Behind The Mask
written by: Tim Law
I trail behind the Robinson girls, going door to door around the neighborhood. We look quite the trio, dolled up with green, warty faces, hair like burnt straw, mouths full of dead and decaying teeth.
“Trick or treat, girls,” says Mr. Sampson. “You three look hideous.”
“Thank you, Mr. Sampson,” says Sally Robison, giving her best curtsy in her long skirt, black as midnight.
“Happy Halloween!” says Becky Robinson.
Becky smiles so brightly that her blue eyes sparkle.
The two girls hold out their goody bags, already more than half full.
“Nothing for you?” asks the old man, looking beyond the Robinson girls.
I give the perfect cackle, and make to step away, back into the darkness beyond the porch’s light.
“Our cousin is not much of a candy lover,” says Sally.
“Ahh, cousin,” says the old man.
I can sense he was trying to place me, where I fit in. Most of the neighborhood has tried to work out where in the family tree I belong.
“But she does love Halloween!” Becky adds, her grin growing even broader.
“Come now, girls,” I say, my voice ancient. “Time to move on to the next house.”
“I run the local amateur theatre group,” says Mr. Sampson as Sally and Becky follow my lead. “You sure know how to embrace a character…”
My smile is hidden by the dark. If only the old man knew the truth.
“I don’t like this next house,” says Becky. “Old Mrs. Molen is so mean and crabby.”
“Shall we have some fun with her tonight?” I cackle.
“Oh, yes, please,” says Sally.
Now the older sister’s eyes are sparkling just like Becky’s were. Just like Becky’s soon will again.
I crunch up the gravel path and poke out my tongue at the sign on the lady’s pearl-white door.
LEAVE THIS SOUL ALONE
HALLOWEEN IS FOR THE AMERICANS
NO TREATS AND DEFINITELY NO TRICKS
THANK YOU
With confidence, I claw at the sign and throw it to the ground. The thin piece of paper flits and floats until it finally rests between my hobnob boots. Thumping firmly upon that door, I wait for it to open. There is movement, I hear it, just as clearly as I can hear the pair of youthful heartbeats behind me.
“Did you not read the sign?” calls the voice of Mrs. Molen, annoyed and flustered.
“What sign?” asks Sally. “Mrs. Molen, we can’t see a sign.”
The door is triple locked. First is a finger lock, then a deadbolt, and finally the chain. Mrs. Molen opens the door and points toward the place where her precious sign once was. It does not take her long to spot it, lying there on her porch, between my big, black boots.
“Pick it up, and put it back,” the lady says, pointing to the paper and then to me.
Bad idea.
I wiggle my index finger, as green and warty as my face.
“Why don’t YOU pick it up?” I cackle.
Then I touch her nose, the lightest little brush.
The magic works immediately.
“Of course…” murmurs Mrs. Molen. “Please excuse me…”
I step back and allow this lady to retrieve her sign.
“Now eat it,” I say, a quiet but firm command.
“Yes, eat the sign,” says Becky.
Sally is not so sure.
“We should go home,” the older sister suggests.
“I want to watch Mrs. Molen eat her precious piece of paper,” says Sally’s younger sibling.
“As do I,” I say. “You go home if you want to, Sally.”
In a huff, she does, vanishing into the darkness.
“I’ll be right behind you,” says Becky, not watching Sally leave.
Becky wants to see this lady humiliated.
I could do that. I could make this a spectacle, embarrass this woman so greatly that she will never want to leave her house again. Becky’s enthusiasm is beginning to irk me, though. I make Mrs. Molen nibble the paper like a mouse.
“Boring,” groans Becky.
I consider turning the girl into an actual mouse, but I have done enough to the Robinson family already this night. Casting such a spell would be a waste of my abilities.
“Come on then,” I say. “Let’s leave Mrs. Molen to her meal.”
“Fine,” huffs Becky. “I guess Halloween is over for another year.”
“I would not be so sure,” I say.
Now it is my turn to grin.
“What are you up to?” Becky asks, unsure and afraid for the first time ever.
“Becky, they won’t come off!” squeals Sally’s voice, only a few yards in front of us.
“What do you mean, Sally?” asks Becky as she starts to pick at the warts on her nose.
I cackle to myself as I watch the pair struggle.
“What can I say, girls?” I ask as an explanation. “You said for Halloween this year, you both wanted to be witches.”
“So?” says Becky.
“Well, now you are,” I tell them. “Witches for eternity.”
- Behind The Mask - October 29, 2025
- The Eleventh Tome – Chapter IX - August 21, 2025
- When Our Numbers Came Up - May 1, 2025
