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Show Darkness isn't scary just what's in it grassroots Copyright il986 Becky Grass Johnson Jack-o'-lanterns glow, witches wail and something wispy white streaks across the night sky. Without a warning a cold breeze on the back of your neck makes every hair stand on end. It is Halloween. Halloween brings cute, little "trick-or-treaters," parties, and a lot of candy. I have precious memories of running door to door with a sack of loot and chanting "Trick or treat, smell my feet. Give me something good to eat." I remember the crunching of the autumn leaves beneath my shoes and the smell of caramel apples. I remember school carnivals with cake walks, fish ponds and costume parades. Those things are the best part of the holiday. Halloween also means lurking, creepy goblins and things that go bump in the night. That is the part of Halloween I hate. I blame it on my parents. They used to make me take out the garbage gar-bage after supper. Most of the year, this was no problem. Taking out the trash was just another chore. our garbage incinerator. I had never nev-er seen him. Neither had anyone else. It was just one of those things . that a child instinctively knows. The incinerator was located in the middle of the farm yard. I had to pack the garbage off the porch, down the steps, pass through the gate in the front yard and venture into the night. The lone yard light that shone from the barn made my shadow look long and distorted. Some of the kids I knew frittered their allowance on gum and comic books. I spent most of my money bribing my little sister into going with me to empty the garbage. The first few times, she accompanied accompa-nied me to the incinerator for a nickel. Then she began charging a dime for her company. I knew she had really caught on when she requested re-quested a quarter. I told her if she wanted a quarter, she'd have to earn it. For a quarter she'd have to take the garbage out all by herself. She agreed. I figured it was well worth the quarter just to be able to sit back and watch someone else be "monster "mons-ter bait" for a change. She pocketed the quarter, hoisted the garbage bag and confidently con-fidently strode out the door into the dark. I watched from the window. I wasn't going to miss it. I wondered how I would explain her disappearance disappear-ance to my folks after the vampire had carried her away. Her arrogant stride slowed as she got further and further from the house. Soon she was hesitantly placing one tiptoe in front of the other. Inch by inch, she approached the incinerator. Suddenly she dropped the garbage, gar-bage, whirled around and raced for the house at break neck speed. She flew in the back door and between gasps tossed my quarter at me. "I heard a noise," she gulped with wide eyes. "It's probably just the wind," she reassured us both. "Sure," I said. We both knew it was the vampire in the garbage incinerator. in-cinerator. That was the night I spent my life savings. It took a whole four dollars and fifty cents to persuade my little sister that it was worth her while to help me pick up the garbage and deposit it in the incinerator. We didn't meet Dracula that night. The noise she had heard was probably the rustling of his wings as he flew away into the shadows. Now that we are grown, levelheaded level-headed adults, my sis and I look back at our childish fears and have a good laugh. I enjoy the fun parts of Halloween; Hal-loween; listening to the giggling, excited kids and sipping apple cider by the fireside. But when you start talking about goblins, haunted houses and vampires, you can count me out. I'm too mature to believe' be-lieve' in all that baloney! The real reason I'm wearing garlic gar-lic around my neck when I take out the garbage these nights, is because be-cause I heard that inhaling garlic fumes is good for head colds. Amazingly enough, not only has my head cold disappeared, but so have the vampires and most of my fruebds, by BECKI GRASS JOHNSON But then October rolled around. People hung pictures of ghosts, bats and spiders in their windows. As Halloween neared and the night air was crisp and the moon was full, taking out the garbage was not just another chore. I was never scared of the dark. I was afraid of what might be in the dark. The most frightening secret I carried throughout my childhood was knowing that a vampire hid in |
