'Ween

Candice finally had the place to herself. She'd been craving time alone by the pool since the final bell of the school year. True privacy was a luxury in short supply in a house with three hyperactive little brothers and two tightly-wound parents pulling Candice in a dozen directions on any given day. June was already over, and the July heat was just beginning to settle in. Candice lazily plopped into a chair and popped open a Dr Pepper Cherry from her secret stash. A few days ago the yard was packed and noisy for a Fourth of July party. (Of course their house was the party house; they had the pool.) But now, it was mercifully silent.

The two younger boys had left for summer camp, and the oldest was on a road trip with a friend's family. She was more than happy to let them be someone else's problem for a while. Usually Dad was around to share the burden, as he worked from home, but this week he was out of town for a conference. Candice wondered if a work trip felt more like "work" or like a "trip." She hoped "trip." Dad deserved a break from watching the boys as much as she did.

Mom had been summoned across town by Grandma to deal with some vague emergency. Candice heard the old woman's voice screeching through the phone but couldn't make out a word. The look on Mom's face suggested the situation was less-than-serious. She had wanted Candice to go too, but the teen successfully argued that someone should stay home with the dog, lest the lonely boy express displeasure by ripping up another throw pillow. It absolutely sucked for Mom to have to sacrifice one of her few days off, but Candice didn't feel quite bad enough to give up hers.

She glanced back at Cujo, the French bulldog, clumsily playing with a big bowl of ice water in the shade of the awning. If Candice had to babysit something today, one goofy little dog was acceptable. Satisfied that all was well with the world, Candice rubbed herself down with tanning lotion and stretched out to soak up the sun. Minutes passed without a clock to count them. Candice convinced her muscles to relax, little by little.

Then, Cujo began to bark and Candice snapped back to reality. She craned her neck to look. The little dog was yapping, barking, and bumping his nose against the glass door, leaving wet smudges all over. "Mom's not gonna like that," Candice said to Cujo, as if he would have listened. Someone was approaching the house, and the only thing Cujo cared about was making himself sound big and scary from a safe distance.

As the doorbell rang, Candice slipped on her cover-up and stepped into her Crocs. She made her way through the house, pausing briefly in front of a mirror to make sure she was decent, then answered the door.

Standing on the concrete step was a little ghost holding a pillowcase in both hands. The costume was a classic sheet-ghost, but Candice wasn't sure whether it was homemade or store-bought. If it had been a DIY project, the kid definitely had help. The sheet had a tidy hem sitting an inch above a pair of dirty sneakers, and there were two perfectly oval black mesh eyes. This kid barely looked old enough to use a pair of scissors.

They stared at each other in surreal silence for a moment.

"You're a few months early for Halloween. You know that, right?" Candice wrinkled her nose in a conscious display of incredulity.

The little ghost made no answer. Candice glanced around the empty neighborhood expecting to find the kid's parents, or maybe another kid or two lying in wait to prank her. Nope, nothing.

"Aren't you gonna say 'trick or treat'?"

The kid shrugged, the movement barely discernible beneath the sheet. They held the pillowcase higher, expectantly. Somewhere behind Candice, Cujo whined impatiently.

Candice took a quick look around her and made a long "hmm". She knew there wasn't any candy in arm's reach, but this kid may have been young enough to believe she was earnestly searching. In her best "big sister voice" she said, "Sorry, hun, I don't have any treats. But I really like your costume! Come back on Halloween and I'll save a big candy bar for you, okay?"

Without a word, the ghost turned and left. Candice watched them walk down the block for a while, noticing they didn't stop at any other houses. Eventually, she blinked and the white sheet disappeared.

Cujo ran circles around her feet while she made her way back to the poolside. "Yes, Cujo, you were a big brave boy," she assured the dog while trying to avoid tripping over him. She stepped back out of her Crocs and tossed the cover-up on the ground before settling back into tanning-position. Alone with her thoughts, Candice wondered if she should have done something more. It was a peaceful suburban neighborhood, and the kid didn't seem lost. Ultimately, she told herself it wasn't her problem. The ghost would be fine. They might be disappointed that they couldn't get candy out of anyone in the middle of summer, but if that kid was anything like her brothers, they'd get over it.

Candice closed her eyes and began to doze. She focused on the delicious hot air. She listened to the gentle breeze gliding over the surface of the pool. A cloud drifted overhead, and Candice smiled as she felt the little shadow fall over her. Some minutes later she realized the shadow still hadn't passed. She opened her eyes and found herself staring into two black mesh ovals sewn into a white sheet.

She rolled out of her chair with a shriek and felt around for her cover-up. "Kid, what --" Candice had to stop herself from cussing in front of an elementary-schooler. Cujo began barking and running left and right to find the ideal place to stand his ground. Some guard dog... Candice thought as she scrambled to her feet.

The ghost held out their pillowcase.

"No, kid, no, just... inside." Candice ushered the child into the house and closed the door before Cujo could follow.

A seasoned babysitter, her first order of business was to distract the kid. She sat the ghost down on a couch and turned on the TV. Candice navigated to the Disney Channel by muscle memory, then set the remote on the table in front of the kid. "Stay. Put." The command was met with silence. "Do you understand me? Sit right here. I'll be right back." More silence. She stared at the ghost a moment longer to make sure they knew she was serious.

It only took three long strides to reach the cordless phone in the kitchen, but by the time she got the receiver in hand and turned around, the couch was empty again. "You've got to be kidding me," Candice mumbled. She slammed the phone back into its base and began a sweep of the house. Fortunately, she knew all the hiding places: which doors to look behind, which furniture to look underneath, and which curtains to pull. No ghost anywhere. They seemed to have really vanished.

Out of breath from rushing around, Candice returned to the living room and sunk into the couch. Before she could think of her next move, a loud splash sounded from the back yard. She made a panicked dash back to the pool, only to find that Cujo had decided to go for a swim. "Now is not the time, buddy," she sighed. She fished the dog out of the pool and carried him into the house. Candice could figure out what to do during a quick shower. That way whether she called her mom or the police, they wouldn't find the two of them covered in tanning lotion and chlorine.

Ten minutes later they were clean and Candice had resolved to call Mom first. If the cops needed to be called, they'd probably take the word of an adult more seriously. She knew the story would sound bizarre now matter how she described it. "Hey, Mom! I let a lost kid into the house and immediately lost them again. They're wearing a costume and they haven't said a single word. What's the procedure for this?" She wrapped herself in a long, fluffy robe and piled a towel on top of her head, then opened the bathroom door.

And there was the ghost.

Candice only squeaked this time, rather than shrieking. Cujo leapt back into the bathtub and barked a few times, but the echoes of his own barks in the small bathroom made him almost as nervous as the little intruder.

The ghost held out the pillowcase and stood on their tiptoes.

"I don't have any candy," is all Candice could think to say.

The kid jumped up and down insistently.

Candice ran through the contents of the kitchen in her mind. "Hang on a moment, kid. Let me pass." She thought of the times she went trick-or-treating with her brothers, before she felt too old to dress up, and when she still looked kiddie enough to get candy without a strange look from the adults. Not every house gave out candy. There was one house that gave out apples. The dental hygienist down the road handed out toothbrushes. There was a little old woman in the trailer park who made origami to give out, though the paper didn't hold its shape for long in the candy baskets.

In the kitchen, Candice opened a cupboard and stood on her toes to reach a high shelf. She grabbed a Dr Pepper Cherry from her stash and held it up with a smile. The ghost ran to her and Candice carefully deposited the can into the pillowcase. "Be careful not to shake it too much, okay?"

The little ghost nodded and gave Candice a big hug around her legs.

"So, can I call your parents or something? Or...?" The ghost didn't answer. They calmly saw themself out through the front door and headed back down the block, holding the pillowcase gingerly.

Some time later, Candice's mother returned. She dropped the keys onto the living room table and plopped onto the couch, looking exhausted. "Honey, you would not believe the day I've been having." Before Candice could answer, her mother's cell phone rang. She looked at the screen and swore under her breath before accepting the call. Grandma's voice didn't sound any more calm than it had that morning. Mom looked ready to cry.

Candice picked up the keys from the table and slid into her Crocs.

"I'll go," she said. "It's your turn to watch the dog."