‘Obscure, but clever,’ the man said.
‘You’ve made her night,’ Vivian told him.
‘Give them some candy,’ Abilene said.
Cora gave a couple of Three Musketeers bars to each of the adults, then dropped a few more into the bags of the kids.
On their way again, Vivian said, ‘Nice people.’
‘Smart, too,’ said Abilene.
Next, they met up with a flock of eight or nine yelling, laughing kids being shepherded by three teenaged girls. While Cora handed out candy, a kid wearing a plastic Rambo chest looked Vivian in the eyes and grumbled, ‘I’m your worst nightmare.’ A vampire pranced around Helen chanting, ‘Fatty ghost, fatty ghost!’ Minnie Mouse, as high as Abilene’s waist, reached up and tugged the front of her sweatshirt and said, ‘I’m Susan and I’m four.’
‘Hi, Susan. I’m Abilene.’
‘That’s a pretty name.’
‘Why, thank you.’
‘I’m four.’
‘Are you getting lots of candy?’
‘Oh yes. Lots and lots.’
The prancing, chanting vampire yelped and went down. He fell flat on the sidewalk and started to cry.
Once they’d left the bunch behind, Abilene asked Helen if she’d tripped him.
‘Who you mean? “Fatty ghost, fatty ghost”? Naw. He was just a klutz, the little asshole.’
‘Have you noticed how some of these kids are such jerks?’ Vivian asked.
‘Did you see that little shit grab for my camera?’ Finley asked.
Abilene hadn’t noticed.
‘Gives abortion a good name.’
‘Most of them are okay,’ Abilene said.
‘Here come some big ones,’ Cora announced.
‘Ohhh, boy,’ Helen muttered.
‘Hey, that guy’s not bad lookin’,’ Finley said. ‘The blond?’
‘Keep your panties on,’ Cora told her.
‘How can she?’ Abilene said. ‘She never wears ’em.’
Finley popped open a couple of snaps at the top of her coveralls. Apparently, she didn’t want this group to make the same mistake as Batman regarding her gender.
‘Give it a break,’ Vivian muttered.
‘Awfully hot in this thing.’
The four boys, who looked old enough to be high school seniors, were just leaving the sidewalk, ready to head for a house, when one of them noticed the approaching girls. He said something to his buddies.
They returned to the sidewalk.
They shambled forward like drunks, weaving and dragging their feet.
‘Night of the Living Dead,’ Helen said.
Abilene realized she was right. They weren’t drunk; they were supposed to be zombies.
The blond-haired guy who’d caught Finley’s fancy wore a business suit. A sleeve of his jacket was missing. His necktie hung loose. The hilt of a knife protruded from the chest of his bloody sport shirt.
A stocky guy shuffling along beside him wore Bermuda shorts and a T-shirt. He must be freezing, Abilene thought. His face was dark with blood. A meat cleaver was buried in the top of his head.
One was dressed in a plaid bathrobe over pale blue pajamas. His fidelity to the outfit, however, had been compromised by his footwear sneakers instead of slippers. Neither he nor the fourth member of the group, dressed in a baseball uniform, had attached phoney weapons to their bodies or smeared themselves with fake blood. Probably didn’t want to ruin their clothes, Abilene thought. But the pajama boy carried a rubber foot, which he pretended to munch as he approached. The baseball player staggered along swinging a bat with one hand. He looked as if he might like to bash in some heads with it.
All four of the zombies had plastic shopping bags for their goodies.
‘Don’t anybody get cute,’ Vivian warned. ‘These guys could be trouble.’
Finley walked right up to them. ‘Greetings. You guys look dead on your feet.’
The one with the cleaver in his head moaned and swayed.
The baseball player raised his Louisville Slugger overhead and said, ‘Trick or treat.’
‘Just so happens,’ Finley said, ‘we come bearing gifts. Cheery the Cheerleader has some Three Musketeers for you fellows.’
‘We just eat flesh,’ explained the pajama boy. He stuck the big toe of the rubber foot into his mouth and gnawed on it. He moaned with pleasure.
‘The really good part,’ Finley said, ‘must be the jam.’
He laughed. So did Finley’s favorite in the tom suit. The one with the cleaver looked at Abilene and stopped swaying.
Vivian groaned.
Cora reached into her sack and took out a handful of candy bars. As she dropped them into the zombies’ bags, the one in the tom jacket asked in a very normal pleasant voice, ‘Are you gals on your way to a party, or something?’
‘We’re just going around spreading Halloween cheer,’ Finley said.
‘You’re from the university.’
‘We’ve been known to frequent its ivy halls.’
‘Same here.’
The news surprised Abilene. Obviously, the boys were older than they looked.
‘First year?’ Cora asked.
‘It shows,’ said the one with the rubber foot.
‘Aren’t you kind of old to be trick-or-treating?’
‘Why should little kids be the only ones having fun?’
‘Our sentiments, too,’ Finley said, and plucked off her gorilla head. Smiling, she rubbed her mussed, shaggy hair. ‘I’m Finley,’ she said.
‘I’m Bill,’ said the one In the suit. ‘These three cretins are Gary, Chuck and my roomy, Harris.’
Gary was the pajama boy with the foot. Chuck was the baseball player. Harris was the guy wearing the plastic meat cleaver. ‘We oughta get going,’ Abilene said.
‘I’ve seen you around,’ Harris said, looking into Abilene’s eyes.
‘That’s Hickok.’
Thanks a heap, she thought.
Harris frowned. ‘I thought it was Abilene.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
BELMORE GIRLS
Abilene felt heat rush to her face.
Christ, how does he know my name?
‘Whoooa,’ said Finley. ‘He knows ya! Do you know him?’
She shook her head.
