and I watched a special on TV a while ago about movie
costume restoration. It was criminal the way so many
of those gorgeous outfits had been left to deteriorate
and rot. If I hadn’t become a graphic artist, I might
have been a costume or a dress designer.”
“Then maybe you can help your sister here with getting these costumes to wherever she’s taking them,”
Winifred said briskly. “It’s almost twelve-thirty. We
don’t have much time, especially if Angela’s is to be
ready.”
Renie had bristled over the commanding tone in
Winifred’s voice, but Judith intervened, putting a hand
on her cousin’s arm.
“We’re not sisters,” she explained with a smile.
“We’re cousins. But we’ve always been as close as sisters. Closer, perhaps, without the sibling rivalry.”
“Lovely,” Winifred remarked, putting the last costume into a bag. “I’ll see you later.” She marched
toward the stairs and out of sight.
Driving to the top of Heraldsgate Hill, Judith allowed Renie two minutes to vent her ire about
Winifred’s high-handed manner. As they unloaded the
car in Arlecchino’s small parking lot, Judith gave her
cousin another three minutes to complain about the
Jones children. Then Judith insisted that Renie stay in
the car while she dealt with the costume store’s owner.
The cautions about the valuable ensembles and the discussion of how to repair Angela’s Scarlett O’Hara
gown took a full ten minutes. By the time she got back
to her Subaru, Renie was fuming again.
“You should have let me help you in there,” Renie
declared. “I’m not exactly a dunce when it comes to
color and fabric.”
“No, you’re not,” Judith acknowledged, “but it
would have taken twice as long with two of us. Time is
of the essence. Besides, I want to tell you about some
weird things that have been happening. Let’s drive to
Moonbeam’s, where we won’t be overheard by my
very peculiar guests.”
Moonbeam’s, however, was jammed and there were
no empty parking spots. On the Saturday before Halloween, the Heraldsgate Hill merchants had opened
their doors to all the trick-or-treaters in the area.
“I could have told you that,” Renie grumbled.
“While I was wasting away in the car, I counted eight
Harry Potters, four bunny rabbits, six fairy princesses,
three crocodiles, and two skunks. Not to mention assorted ghosts, witches, and skeletons. This part of the
avenue is a zoo—almost literally.”
Judith, who was stalled at the four-way stop between Moonbeam’s and Holliday’s Pharmacy, watched
the passing parade in awe. Not only were the children—from infants to teenagers—in costume, but so
were many of the parents. Adults dressed as prima ballerinas, football players, sheikhs, African warriors, Argentine gauchos, and a very realistic-looking gorilla
were strolling the sidewalks and filling the crosswalks
along with their offspring.
