A Motley Crew

This past Saturday night I was shaken from a lazy night of binge-watching old black and white horror movies on TV by a text from my cousin, Steve. The communication surprised me because we don't really stay in touch. His group text, which also included my sister and his brother, commented on how the appearance of the moon and the clouds that evening reminded him of a similar night nearly forty years ago. One by one, as each of us chimed in with affection towards the memory, my appreciation for Steve's interruption propelled me outside to witness this reminiscent lunar occurrence first-hand.

For as long as I can remember, Halloween has always been my favorite time of the year, surpassing birthdays and even Christmas. I can’t think of a year we didn't celebrate, by trick-or-treating, watching scary movies, or visiting haunted houses. The best Halloween however, October of ‘81, I had just turned seven. My parents, my Aunt Liz and my Uncle Joe staged an elaborate display, complete with bloodcurdling performances and eerie effects. The rather motley cast presented this modest show purely for entertainment. Their audience: myself, my sister Amy and my cousin Steven, who were both 5 and my youngest cousin Chris, 3. Their result scared the living daylights out of us.

Visualize if you will, about a half-acre of darkness and shadows. The seemingly uninhabited back lot of my grandparents’ residence incited an uneasy feeling that night, my Grandad's sharp tools suspended from his farm shed ceiling seemed to sway with the restless wind. The very dark hours of Old Hallows Eve set the scene; for what, none of us knew. Granny served as our guide. Despite her usual grandmotherly disposition, it appeared that she was definitely in on the joke before we were. As the evening’s festivities commenced, she led us from the security of her home towards the murky meat house that normally served as their place of business, a small deer processing plant.

Despite its innocent beginning, the night soon took on a more wicked temperament, as the four of us noticed the strange and rather disturbing noise spanning beyond the shadowy structure. Entering the building, a form lurking in a corner behind us sprung to life and surprised us suddenly. A frightful witch advanced on us, obviously intent on scaring us silly. With further study, and from a careful distance I might add, the wretched woman turned out to be my barely recognizable aunt buried beneath a ton of green make-up. Needless to say, she accomplished her goal. Even her baby, Chris wouldn’t let her touch him. As she played up her assigned persona, my aunt steered us towards our next destination while cackling in pure delight and teasing us with childish threats like, “ You look good enough to eat”.

Once we finally found our way outside again, we spied a white figure staggering in our direction. It was a woman wrapped in musty bandages. We had obviously encountered a mummy that ultimately turned out to be my mommy. She grunted and motioned for us to follow her as she slowly escorted us to the abandoned camper parked by the side of the meat house. Nearing the vehicle, we instantly observed that the door was ajar; slamming to and fro by a slight breeze in the air. However, Steve soon made the ghastly discovery that the door was slamming against what appeared to be a leg hanging out from inside the camper. Immediately identifying the body to be my uncle lying in a pool of blood, Amy and I screamed in terror.

And if that wasn’t enough, without so much as a warning, a loud mechanical roar sounded from atop my grandparents’ hen house. We looked up in horror to see a figure dressed in white painting overalls doused in red, carrying a huge screaming chainsaw. As the beast growled, he sprung from the roof onto the ground and launched himself towards us. Without waiting around for introductions, the four of us turned tail and ran for our lives, screaming our lungs out while the madman, my father, chased after.

Once it was all said and done, the make-up, ketchup, and chainsaw discarded, the four of us settled down for the evening. Our parents had returned to us and we were left with the memory of a truly gruesome, yet enjoyable experience.No harm had been done. And in retrospect, the night seemed to offer the adults more pleasure playing dress-up and pretend than we ever had as children.