Halloween Haunts 2013: Traditions by Marge Simon
Originally published in Raven Elektrik’s Jack O’ Spec, 2011.
It was time for another Family Gathering. I can always tell because Auntie Blue gets fidgety and insists we wash all the curtains twice. Cousin Anne makes a night sky for the occasion, with clouds and a full moon. You’d think this would bother the neighbors because the sky stays that way for a week or two. It’s not an easy matter to change days back to day, and nights to night in the proper order. But the folks on our street don’t seem to mind.
In a day or two, the Family arrived. Those that couldn’t fly have other ways. On tall trot horses or in ripe red roadsters they came. A few on borrowed feet, but that’s to be expected.
Everyone has a special talent. Cousin Eli juggles all sorts of things, living or dead. Grand Sister Mattie communes with Socrates. Great Uncle Ivan is usually late. He teleports in at the last minute, all sweaty and bustly-brushy. He’s got whiskers up to his ears and a sassafras moustache. It reminds me of the twisty root.
I got tired of being polite and besides, nobody paid any attention to me. It wasn’t fair that I was ignored. I mean, I can do special stuff too. My mom was helping Greatgran in the kitchen. I snuck off to join them.
“Can I visit the neighbors after dinner? I could do my vanishing trick and maybe they’d give me some candy or something.”
Mommy sighed. “Toppy, what if they don’t give you anything for your trick? Would you be all right with that?”
I thought it over. “Well, how about if I say I’ll do a scary trick if they don’t give me a treat?”
“That sounds terrible!” Mommy said.
Greatgran put a batch of rolls in the oven. “Sounds like a fine idea to me. Toppy deserves to have some fun.”
Mommy raised an eyebrow. She didn’t say anything, but she gave me some onions to peel. Of course, that didn’t stop me from talking. I happen to like peeling onions.
“This isn’t just a Family Gathering, is it, Mommy? I know what happens this time of year in October. We’re having a welcome party for the dead, right?”
Mommy rolled her eyes skyward. Greatgran wiped her apron and nodded to the door. For a second, I thought she was telling me to leave, but suddenly the door opened. It was
Great Uncle Ivan. He had a thick book in his hands. “These are the stories we live by, little Toppy. Would you mind if I read you a bedtime story?
“But it’s not my bedtime.” I pulled out a chair for him anyway, to be polite.
“Doesn’t matter, child. Allow me.” He adjusted his spectacles, opened the book. This is taken from the time that your Aunt Lucille and Greatgran had unexpected visitors.” He cleared his throat.
Chapter Seventeen
‘They’re headed over this way, I just know it!’ Lucille moved her chair back from the window.
“Really, so soon?” said Greatgran. “Poor old things. They just got here this morning. Are you sure?”
Lucille nodded. “All the same, they’re down at the far gate.”
“Well, we’d best tidy up a bit. Can’t have company with the room like this.” Greatgran busied herself plumping sofa pillows and adjusting picture frames.
“I certainly hope they won’t stay long,” said Lucille, not offering to help.
“They never do when they’re just passing on,” said Greatgran.
“Are we ready? They’re coming up the steps right now.”
“Yes, I’d say so. They’ll be confused, so we’ll just point them in the right direction. By and by, they’ll go away.” Greatgran sat down, folding her hands on her lap.
They had come a long way since dawn and the light was fading when they reached the house. The old man helped his wife up the front steps. They stopped to catch their breath before ringing the bell. “This has to be it, Martha,” whispered the old man. “Heaven’s Door.”
That was too much for me. I jumped up, slapping the table. “But that isn’t so! That’s just an old family story. Besides, there’s no such thing as Heaven’s Door around here –is there?”
“Or that other place?” Uncle Ivan smiled.” Well, we actually do provide the way to both doors. That’s not the point, Toppy. Those two dear old souls in the story had wandered off the beaten path, so to speak. It was up to Greatgran to steer them in the right direction. But now, let me read you what happened next –”
Then there came a loud banging at the door. We could hear it all the way to the kitchen.
“It’s them! They’ve come back here again!” I grabbed Uncle Ivan’s lapels.
“Toppy!” Mommy shot her hand across the kitchen and grabbed my ponytail. “That behavior is unacceptable!” Not that I didn’t know Mommy could extend her arms as long as she wanted, but I wasn’t expecting a reprimand. Not for being honest, anyway.
So I told Uncle Ivan I was sorry, but he was already gone. When I caught up with him, he was talking to some strangers on our front porch. Our relatives gathered behind him.
“What are you talking about?”
I couldn’t hear what they said, but Uncle Ivan started to laugh and stopped. I pushed my way through to see what they looked like.
Three small creatures stood there smiling a smile that chilled my bones. There was a strange smell about them. Sort of like spoiled meat. I could tell that they were pretty powerful, because Uncle Ivan’s face was red and he was having a hard time breathing.
Auntie Blue fainted, and she’s the strongest of the Sister Aunts.
“Come, Toppy.” It was Mommy. I’ve never seen that look on her face before. I felt her long arm pulling me back until I was pressed to her apron.
There was a long, terrible silence. Uncle Ivan seemed paralyzed for a moment. Then, slowly, he turned around.
Greatgran stood in the kitchen door. The light behind her was so bright, it hurt my eyes. I ducked my head into the folds of Mommy’s skirts.
“You are not welcome here.”
“But we are. This is the time we are to come. We are bidden by He Whose Name May Not Be Spoken to request your presence–”
“That’s a new one on me,” said Greatgran. “He’ll do anything to get a date with me, that old rapscallion. You can tell him no. Now, shoo!” She shook her apron at them.
Everyone held their breath for a moment. You could hear Auntie Orange’s hairpins drop. One of the little smelly creatures started to cry, and the others followed. “We can’t go back to the Dark Lord with your message! Won’t you reconsider?”
Greatgran shook her head. “Absolutely not!” Then her eyes got twinkly. “Why not join our party? Have some dinner and after, we’ll try our little Toppy’s trick or treat idea on the neighbors?”
They looked at each other, then back to us and nodded.
So I guess that Trick or Treat thing started with the Family. And me, I was the first to kid to do it. But I’ve yet to find Heaven’s Door, or that Other Place’s door. I think Uncle Ivan was pulling my leg.
MARGE SIMON’S works appear in publications such as Strange Horizons, Niteblade, DailySF Magazine, Pedestal Magazine, Dreams & Nightmares. She edits a column for the HWA Newsletter and serves as Chair of the Board of Trustees. She has won the Strange Horizons Readers Choice Award, the Bram Stoker Award™(2008, 2012), the Rhysling Award and the Dwarf Stars Award. Collections: Like Birds in the Rain, Unearthly Delights, The Mad Hattery, Vampires, Zombies & Wanton Souls, and Dangerous Dreams. Member HWA, SFWA, SFPA. www.margesimon.com
Dangerous Dreams by Marge Simon and Sandy DeLuca
Dark family secrets… Demon lovers…. Treacherous beauties… These are just some of the Dangerous Dreams you will find in the latest offering from Marge Simon and Sandy DeLuca. With illustrations by Marge Simon, each poem in this collection is penned by both Simon and DeLuca, making Dangerous Dreams a truly collaborative effort.
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Very nice! This has great intertextuality with Bradbury’s “Homecoming” and other Uncle Einar stories.
Bravo! (But Wednesday asked, why didn’t the family cat protect the family?)
Thanks for sharing, Marge.
Great story! Thanks for sharing.