Trick Or Treat

Geneva smiled as she inhaled the heavy scent of lavender and eucalyptus floating through her living room.

As the senior massage therapist at Serendipity Spa, she was used to spending fifty hours a week kneading out the knotted shoulders of stressed out people. Most recently, her schedule had been overflowing with an endless flow of Valentine's Day couples.

February 14th had fallen on a Friday, which triggered a three day weekend rush of love birds desperate for hot-stone treatments and side by side coupled wraps. Geneva had rubbed down exactly forty eight people in seventy two hours. Her thumbs were sore, her muscles were aching, her eyes were heavy, and her back was shot.

But today, it was a Monday afternoon, February 17th. The romance was dead for another year and her week long vacation had officially begun.

She set down her prize on the coffee table and stared with admiration, excited for day one. It was an overflowing wicker basket of luxury goods she'd snagged from work. Inside, there were several high-end facial creams, bath bombs, bubble bath and oils, candles, and a bottle of champagne that cost more than her first car.

Geneva pulled that bottle out and poured herself a flute of sparkling pleasure. She wrapped herself up in her blanket and opened Lynsay Sands' A Quick Bite. She was only three pages into a deeply satisfying scene involving a sexy vampire when the door bell rang.

Geneva sighed and let her head fall backwards. She wasn't expecting visitors or packages or anything but peace and quiet. She set her book down and hauled herself up against her will, dragging her aching body to the front door to open it.

Standing on her porch, shivering a bit in the biting 28 degree chill dancing in the February wind was a small child wearing a shockingly detailed Michael Myers mask. He held out a plastic orange pumpkin.

"Trick or treat," the child squeaked though the mouth slit of the costume.

Geneva stood there with her eyebrow raised staring at this small boy as a gust of winter wind made her tremble.

"Sweetie..." Geneva said, "It's February."

The tiny Michal Myers didn't move. He just pushed his empty orange pumpkin towards her a little more.

"Valentine's Day was three days ago," Geneva told this small child. "Halloween was four months ago... or will happen again in another eight months... whichever way you want to look at it."

The kid looked up at her with unwavering expectation.

"I don't have candy," Geneva said firmly. "I have protein bars and fish.

Michael Myers wasn't budging.

Wanting nothing more than to get back to her peace and vampires, Geneva rushed to the kitchen pantry and grabbed the first thing her hands touched, a can of corn. She hurried back to the porch and dropped the can into the plastic bucket with a loud CLUNK and closed the door.

"Unbelievable." She whispered, sinking back into her couch.

She grabbed her book, took a big sip of her champagne, and picked up right where she'd left off. "Greg was relieved to see Luciana until..."

DING DONG.

Geneva let her book fall to her lap.

She got up and walked back to the door, pulling it open in frustration. On her porch was a toddler dressed as a bumblebee, accompanied by an older child wearing a Grim Reaper robe.

"Trick or treat!" the bee squeaked.

"It is below freezing outside!" Geneva yelled over the wind. "Why are you doing this?"

"Trick or treat," the Grim Reaper repeated flatly, holding out a pillow case.

Geneva gritted her teeth. She marched back to her kitchen and raided her fridge. She stomped back and dropped a package of hot dogs into the extended pillow case and dropped a bagel into the bumblebees bucket.

They both happily accepted the strange treats without a word and walked down the icy driveway towards the neighbors house.

Geneva slammed her door and went back inside. Before she could even make it to her couch the bell rang again.

"I'm going crazy." Geneva said out loud to no one but herself. She ran over to her wall calendar which clearly showed the month February. She picked up her phone, which she'd switched to DO NOT DISTURB, it also confirmed it was February.

DING DONG

She peeked out through the window. It was a swarm. There were small costumed children sprinkled all over the street in front of her. They were slipping on patches of black ice while dragging pillow cases down the snow covered sidewalks. Mrs. Braden across the street seemed to be arguing with a tiny Spiderman while trying to hand him a bag of baby carrots.

By 6 P.M., Geneva had given away two boxes of macaroni and cheese, 19 protein bars, three pods of Hazelnut coffee, a travel can of hair spray, all of her seasonings, and her entire box of microwave popcorn.

As she tossed her final can of Sprite into the plastic pumpkin of a little girl dressed as a fairy, she finally reached her breaking point. She had spent the last five days taking care of demanding strangers, she refused to spend the rest of her first night off running a winter soup kitchen for rogue cosplayers.

"That's it!" Geneva shouted as she slammed her door one final time. "I'm off the clock!"

She unplugged her doorbell chime and shut off the porch light. She pulled her blinds shut, lit her lavender candles, grabbed the entire bottle of champagne, and slid into a hot frothy bath infused with half the contents of her spa basket. She sighed and let the hot water wash over her aching body as she chugged the contents of the champagne bottle. She tossed the bottle onto the rug next to the tub and opened up A Quick Bite.

"Alexa." She said, "Play lofi music at full volume."

The thumping and knocking continued to echo from her front door, but Geneva deliberately ignored it as she soaked away and fell into Lynsay Sands' world. The alcohol from the champagne took hold and her body finally relaxed for the first time. For two magnificent hours, she soaked in the tub and read her book. She turned the jets on, not even concerned about whatever damage the oils may cause to her bath tub.

When she finally emerged from her bathroom, wrapped in her fluffy white robe, the house was quiet. No more knocking or children giggling. Peace at last.

Geneva smiled and tossed the empty champagne bottle into the trash. She walked over to her fridge to look for something to snack on, but it was bare. She'd given everything away. The buzz from the champagne had worn off, so she was contemplating going out to get herself something to eat.

But what if that makes them come back? She thought. She tiptoed to her living room and peeked through the blinds to check on the night. Her jaw dropped.

Her entire front yard was a disaster. The tree in her front yard was completely covered in streamers of thick white toilet paper that fluttered in the icy breeze. There were eggs cracked all over her car and window and written in bright orange spray paint across the fence were the words:

NO TREATS? GET TRICKED!

Geneva leaned her forehead against the window and took a deep breath. Her week off had barely started and she already needed a vacation from her vacation.