The Grim Reaper glided along Elmwood Street, following a couple engaged in a quiet conversation.
“I’m excited about the costume contest and the dance-off. Do you think we have a chance of winning?”
“Honey, you look great tonight. I think we have a shot at both.”
“Remember to take it easy during the dancing. Your heart medication can only do so much!”
“Oh, yeah, I don’t want to bring on a heart attack tonight!”
The dark figure took note and followed discretely as the masked Romeo and Juliet approached the community hall. Shunning the glow of the main entrance and the gathering guests, the Reaper lingered in the shadows.
A dry-ice fog muffled the steps of the cleverly-costumed brigade: Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson, George and Martha Washington, Thelma and Louise, Big Bird, Julia Child, Captain Hook, Dr. Who, the Pussycats (minus Josie!). Excited chatter filled the foyer hung with spider webbing and graced by the statues of the Mummy and Oz’s Scarecrow.
“I can’t believe this set-up! Mickey and his crew went all-out!”
“Oooh! It looks like there’s a haunted house in the hallway!”
“I’m guessing they didn’t ask for Polymorph permission.”
“No worries! I’m sure everyone will remember to stay safe tonight.”
Electric candles lit the main room, sending shadows up to the vaulted ceiling. All the familiar diversions of a neighborhood Halloween Carnival were in full swing. The team had, indeed, gone all-out. The normally regimented tables and chairs had been replaced by booths and activities to entertain and amuse.
The Grim Reaper slipped in unnoticed and took in the happenings. A gypsy was turning Tarot cards for Little Bo Peep. “Hmm…the cards say you have lost something of value, and Death may pay a visit. Oh, dear!” A Headless Horseman carefully cleaned the knives at the pumpkin carving station. “Wow! These are really sharp!” Marie Antoinette preened in the mirror at the head of the costume parade. “Does this wig make me look fat? Rats! I keep catching the lace on the hem with these shoes!” Maleficent was green with envy, polishing an apple. Three Little Pigs heaped their sagging plates with delights from the buffet. The Big Bad Wolf drooled at Florence Nightingale, who blushed. Cher rolled her eyes as Sonny cast daggers in her direction. Donald Trump bought all the raffle tickets from Gerry Mander and Hilary Clinton. Rip Van Winkle dozed by the fireplace. All the vices were in play and the din was deafening. Outside, the moon rose.
On the small dance floor, characters competed in the Monster Mash and Electric Slide until John Travolta cleared the floor for the Hustle. Lady Godiva sold kisses for $5.00 to a knight and a cowboy at her booth. Juliet made sure Romeo didn’t get a chance. Jack the Ripper slayed at the Pumpkin Carving table creating a perfect Joker. William Tell popped all the red balloons with his trusty darts. Huskies and Cougars snarled and splashed their way to a drenched finish at the apple bobbing.
Julia Child won the cakewalk. The Lion Tamer walked off with the White Elephant prize. More than $800 was raised for charity and everyone but Rip Van Winkle helped clean up.
As Captain Marvel, Gerry Garcia and Cleopatra shuffled home, the Grim Reaper sidled into the Elm Preserve. Under the shadow of the nearly leafless trees, an accounting was made: “Heart attack, poisoning, stabbing and loneliness were all put on hold tonight. Yes, all seven deadly sins were here this evening, but sometimes even Death takes a night off.
Left To Write 