Halloween

Halloween

The boy crossed the street. It was dusk.

He walked up to me. He was wearing a short-sleeved dress shirt. Glasses. Slacks. Tie. He was carrying a clipboard. He was probably 13 or 14-years-old.

Given his dress, I thought maybe he was from a family of religious freaks. Or maybe he just dressed funny.

He asked, “Can I speak with you about your car’s extended warranty?”

The boy was alone.

I asked, “So that’s your costume?”

“Yes,” he said.

“Clever,” I said.

I dropped a handful of candy into his bag.

He thanked me and walked away.

An hour later, it was dark.

Plenty of other kids had come and gone.

Then, he walked past again.

Still alone.

He didn’t say anything.

I felt sorta bad that he was alone.

But I didn’t know the full story.

Maybe he wasn’t alone.

Maybe he’d lost his way from the pack.

Still, I felt bad.

I wondered if a kid like him was gonna have an especially hard way. A clever kid, all alone.

Then I told myself, “It’s Halloween. It’s a great night for a kid, even if he’s alone. It’s still a great night.”

Hopefully he never forgets what he was this Halloween.