Knitting Under the Influence

looked… defined. Her large blue eyes had become exotic and mysterious with the kohl around them.

She flexed her arm muscles in front of the mirror. “I am Xena,” she said out loud. Didn't Xena have a sound she made? Like a “ki-ki-ki-ki-ki” kind of thing? Sari said, “Ki-ki-ki-ki” and stopped, because she felt like an idiot.

“I’m not Xena,” she told the mirror. “Not even close.”

“Whoa, baby,” Christopher said when she came walking into the clinic's reception area. He was wearing a UCLA football uniform. “Wish you'd wear that around here more often.” He nudged Shayda, who was sitting next to him, sorting candy bars into big bowls, wearing a black pirate's hat. “Hey, Shade- look at Sari.”

“No, don't look at Sari,” Sari said. She hugged her arms over her chest. “Sari's hideously embarrassed. My friends made me wear this.”

Shayda glanced indifferently at Sari, then turned to Christopher. “’Whoa, baby?” she repeated. “That sounded really sexual harassment-y.”

“Sari knew I was joking.”

“I’m just saying you should be more careful. People get sued over stuff like that.”

Christopher rolled his eyes at Sari and tore open a package of M &M’s, which he poured straight into his mouth.

As they all prepared the rooms for the imminent onslaught of kids and families, Sari continued to tell anyone who commented on her costume that she had been forced to wear it and that she found it embarrassing.

When she said that to Ellen, Ellen waved her hand dismissively and said, “You look great. I don't see what the problem is.”

“Don't you think it's inappropriate?” Sari said. “Come on, Ellen, you're the boss here. Don't you think you should send me home to change? Because I could be there and back in ten minutes. Please tell me to go home and change.”

“Actually, I think you should dress like this more often.”

“Why?” Sari said. “You planning to turn this place into a clinic-slash-whorehouse?”

“Hmm,” Ellen said. “That's not a bad idea. We could use the extra money.” She grinned. “Come on, Sari, lighten up. The outfit's really not that bad, you know. I mean, look at Liza-” She pointed. Liza was walking down the hallway in a body-hugging black unitard. She wore a headband with black velvet ears sticking up. “Her outfit's a lot racier than yours, and you don't hear her worrying about it.”

“She's a black cat,” Sari said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I can't believe she went with the obvious choice.”

“The point is, relax. And worry about the kids, not about how you look.” Ellen walked away.

Sari made a face at her retreating back. Of course Ellen would see nothing wrong with Sari's costume-Ellen herself was dressed as a belly dancer with a fringy top that revealed a large expanse of soft white belly and an even larger expanse of mountainous decolletage.

As the kids started arriving, the clinicians all took up their prearranged positions. Every office and playroom in the clinic was set up like its own little “house”-the kids would knock on the room door, the therapist would open it, and whoever was with the kid would prompt him to say, “Trick-or-Treat,” and then the therapist would compliment the kid and give him candy.

Ellen stayed in the main reception area, where she could greet all the families and invite them to come back and socialize when they were done trick-or-treating.

Sari stationed herself in one of the larger playrooms with a big bowl of Snickers bars. The party officially started at six, and, by six-fifteen, she was jumping up every few seconds to open the door and hand out the candy.

Sari was always surprised to see how many families used their clinic. A lot of “graduates” showed up that night, as well as dozens of kids who were currently patients. And many of them came with siblings, friends, and cousins. All of the kids wore costumes, but none of the parents did, except for one mother who had on a long black dress-which, Sari thought, was either meant to be a witch costume or was just a really goth choice.

There were, as always, more moms than dads present, and every one of the moms who came to Sari's door told her how fabulous she looked in her warrior costume. One mother actually screamed in delight when she saw her. “Oh, my God! I didn't even recognize you, Sari! Smile!” And, before Sari knew what was happening, the mom had snapped her photo.

Sari knew any embarrassing shots would be circulating at the clinic for years, and she silently cursed Kathleen and Lucy for all the future ridicule she would have to endure. She had hoped to be remembered as the clinic's most brilliant therapist-not as its resident goofball. Or sexpot. Hard to decide which was worse. Or more likely.

The few dads who came didn't compliment her as much. But they looked. Man, did they look. Lucy and Kathleen would be pleased, Sari thought, as one dad's mouth fell open in surprise when he saw her. He shut it again quickly, but she was careful not to bend over too much when she dropped a Snickers into his kid's plastic pumpkin-the dad was on the older side, and she didn't want to give him a heart attack.

For over an hour, the corridor was alive with kids running and laughing and screaming with excitement and sugar highs, but as time passed, the flood of kids slowed to a trickle. Around seven-thirty, Sari wondered if she should head toward the main room-she could hear voices and music and general party sounds coming from there whenever she stuck her head out the hallway.

She hadn't had a kid knock on the door for over five minutes, and she was getting bored. The whole thing ended at eight anyway.

She thought she should really go join the others.

Instead, she sat back down at the big table in the middle of the room and wondered what she was waiting for.

She knew perfectly well what she was waiting for.

And, at seven-thirty-seven, he came.

When she heard the knock, she just assumed it was another kid trick-or-treating, and opened the door with a big smile on her face to find Jason Smith standing there.

“Hi,” he said. And then took in her costume. “Hi,” he said again, but his eyes widened and he took a step back. “What are you?”

“Some kind of warrior princess-at least according to the woman at the costume store.”

“It's great. One of the all-time great Halloween costumes, I’d say.”

They had turned off half of the hallway lights so it would feel a little more like nighttime in the clinic, and Sari hoped that the dim lighting meant Jason couldn't see her blush. “My friends made me wear it.”

“I like your friends. You make a good warrior goddess, Sari.”

“Warrior princess” she said. “Haven't you forgotten something?”

“Sorry. I’m not the costume type.”

“No, not that. I meant your kid. Where's Zack?”

“Isn't he here?”

“I haven't seen him.”

“Oh, shit,” he said, and looked up and down the empty hallway like he expected Zack suddenly to appear. “Denise was bringing him. They were supposed to have been here a while ago.”

“Maybe they're in the main office,” Sari said. “Not everyone makes it down this way. The real party's back there.”

“I checked,” Jason said. “They're not there.”

“You think you should try calling them?”

“Yeah.” He pulled out a cell phone and pressed a couple of buttons, then made a face. “Battery's dead.” He shook his head in self-disgust. “I forgot to recharge it. That would explain why they haven't called. Do you have a phone I can use?”

“In here.”

He followed her inside the room. “Door open or closed?”

“Closed, I guess. In case some other kids want to come trick-or-treating. We like them to have to knock. So it