“Surely,” Judith said, her naturally kind heart filling
with sympathy for Bruno, “you don’t really believe
that you’re . . . um . . . washed up in Hollywood?”
Bruno’s eyes darted under the hood of his
burnoose. “See? They’re staying as far away as possible, like I’m poison, contagious. Do you watch pro
football?” He saw Judith give a faint nod. “Then you
know how the other players usually avoid a fallen
teammate. They’re superstitious, too; they think that if
they touch the downed man, they’ll be the next to get
hurt. That’s the way it is in the picture business. An injury, or a failure—or even a rumor of failure—can be
career-ending.”
Judith saw Chips Madigan as the computer geek,
speaking with Angela by the buffet bar. Ellie was
alone, studying the various pieces of china that sat
along the plate rail. Dade was also by himself, at his favorite place by the French doors, staring out into the
stormy October night. Dirk and Ben remained together, speaking and nodding in turn. Winifred apparently had gone into the front parlor with Morris the
matador and Eugenia in her Carmen costume. The pioneer woman stood at the buffet, sampling food from
the chafing dishes. It didn’t seem like much of a party
to Judith, but she reminded herself it wasn’t her fault.
The doorbell distracted her. She waited a moment,
thinking one of the company might be expecting more
hangers-on. But the bell rang a second time, and Judith
hurried to the front door.
“Trick-or-treat!” chimed two youthful voices.
Judith frowned at the spaceman and the alligator.
“Aren’t you out late?” she inquired, reaching for the
silver bowl on the entry-hall table.
The spaceman, who had what looked like a fish
bowl on his head, grinned through the filmy glass.
“We’re not little kids,” he responded. “I’m getting my
driver’s license next week.”
Considering that the spaceman was almost as tall as
Judith—at least in the silver platform boots—she
shrugged, then dumped four small chocolate bars into
each of the pillowcases the youngsters held in front of
them. “Okay, but doesn’t that make you a bit old for
trick-or-treating?”
The alligator shook its scaly green head. “We had to
take our little brothers and sisters out first. Most of the
people ignored us, so now it’s our turn.”
“I see,” Judith said. “But it’s still very late. You two
should head home now.”
The spaceman laughed and the alligator wagged his
tail as they headed down the porch steps. As Judith was
closing the door, they tossed a couple of thank-yous
over their shoulders.
