Unmasked
written by: Jim Bartlett
Rose stands to the side of the open gate, the only break in the long picket fence that follows the sidewalk to where both disappear behind tentacle-like limbs hanging ominously from a giant maple tree. The serpentine branches, silhouetted against the full moon, seem to reach down, ready to grab the next passerby.
The gate itself is properly decked out for this occasion, as menacing skulls, their purple eyes flashing, sit atop the posts to either side, while sharp-toothed bats dangle upside down from the overhead arch. Just to the inside, there’s a small “cemetery” featuring a number of tombstones inscribed with humorous epitaphs such as: R.I.P. Drack U. Lah and Imma Gonner.
As if to further enhance the ghoulish mood, a crisp breeze picks up, rustling its way through what few of the maple’s leaves have made it this far into fall, sending a chill down Rose’s back. With a shiver, she snuggles deeper into her jacket and wraps her knitted scarf a little tighter.
Though, truth be told, it’s really more for show than need, as her warmth for this night comes from watching her 7-year-old granddaughter, Carmen, dance up the walkway to the well-lit and well-decorated porch that juts out from the spooky Victorian house. The narrow, winding path is lined with Jack-O-Lanterns, the candle flames within each, thanks to that same brisk breeze, swaying with Carmen to the rhythmic beat that only she, and they in their festive mood, seem to hear.
Hopping up the steps, Carmen joins a small group of ghosts, vampires, astronauts, and even Tinker Bell, hoping to add a little more sweet chocolaty loot to her already overstuffed “sticky web” bag – as she’s christened it. Rose laughed aloud when Carmen chose the moniker – it made perfect sense. After all, rather than an eloquent princess or winged fairy or singing mermaid – costumes she’d donned in her previous All Hallows’ Eve adventures – tonight she’s dressed as a spider. And not just any old spider, nosirree, Bob! With her long dangling legs bouncing to either side of her black fuzzy leotards, and, of course, a big red hourglass up front – one that Rose helped her make – this year she decided to be… a Black Widow.
Rose breaks into a smile. The last time she had anything to do with stitching up a costume was when her daughter, Teresa, announced she wanted to be Tigger. A girl! Her princess! Wanting to be Tigger! But Teresa loved every minute of it. Rose’s smile widens, a tear even finding its way to the corner of her eye, as she remembers how petite little Teresa, that long orange and black tail dragging behind, would dance down the walkway, probably to the same tune as Carmen – like mother, like daughter? – all the while introducing herself to anyone that happened along. “Hi, I’m Tigger,” she’d say. “T, I, Double guh, Errrr.”
A cackling from the porch reels her back from her joyful reverie, and she looks across the yard. The woman answering the door is fully adorned in a witch’s costume, complete right down to a hideous wart on the end of her nose and a tall, black, pointed hat that is absolutely perfect. Just to the side of the entrance sits a steaming cauldron, from which she pulls the candy. But only after waving her magic wand through the bluish smoke several times, all the while chanting a spell that only she, and the kids, their eyes beaming, seem to understand.
With the witch calling, “Happy Halloween,” and telling the kids to be safe, they all race back to their waiting parents/grandparents, obviously ready to add even more to their candied treasures.
“Get some good stuff?” asks Rose.
“Really good stuff,” says Carmen, her smile a light in the dark. “Crunch Bars and M&Ms!” She grabs Rose’s hand as they turn for the next house, the last on the block, but stops. “I saw April. Can you believe it… she was Tinker Bell! So last year!”
Rose has to put her hand over her mouth to keep from bursting out with laughter. “I saw Tinker Bell up there, but didn’t realize it was April. And didn’t realize Tinker had suffered the same fate as the dinosaurs.”
Carmen shrugs, then spins back, ready to move on. But she only takes a few steps before stopping yet again. “Nana, I wish Mom could have come.”
“She wanted to so very badly, Mijo. But being a nurse, she has to work all kinds of different shifts. She’ll be so excited to see your ‘monstrous’ haul in that webby bag of yours!”
Smiling, Carmen looks down at her special bag. “It HAS caught some good stuff! Too bad Grandpapa couldn’t come, either.”
“Someone had to stay home and hand out the candy to the trick-or-treaters coming to our house. We wouldn’t want them playing ‘tricks’ on us, now would we?”
Carmen giggles, and once again they set off. As they near the driveway to the next house, a little family walks by, and while the two kids – both about Carmen’s size – wear cute costumes, it’s the tall one – Rose guesses he’s probably the dad – who wears a Frankenstein costume that looks almost too real.
“Oh, my goodness, what a great Frankenstein.”
“Thanks,” says the monster.
Rose starts to move on, but Carmen remains frozen in place, her gaze following the little group as they make their way to the witch’s house. She waits until they’ve passed through the arched gate, then gives Rose’s hand a squeeze. “You know, of course, that’s Frankenstein’s monster. Frankenstein was the scientist.”
“Well, thank you for that, Miss Wikipedia.”
They share a laugh, something they’ve done quite a number of times through the evening, then start up yet again. Though they continue walking, albeit much slower than before, Rose can’t help but notice Carmen as she keeps looking back at the monster and his two kids, now winding their way along the pumpkined path. Rose gives a sigh – it’s a long one – she’s pretty sure she knows what’s going on in that little girl’s head and heart.
From the sidewalk, they can see the next house has broom-riding witches flying in circles just to the side of the porch and a giant Jack-O-Lantern at the top of the steps with one of the scariest faces they’ve seen all night.
Still, there’s a hesitancy in Carmen, and she stops at the edge of the home’s driveway, turning toward Rose. She sucks in a breath (a great big breath, as she often says to Rose), and then tugs on her hand to pull her lower such that they can be eye-to-eye.
“Do you think Mommy became a nurse to help other people like the ones that helped her at the hospital when… he, my f… f… fa–ther”—her voice cracks on the final “father”—“when he used to, ah, you know…”
Rose feels herself go flush. Her head spinning, she blinks back threatening tears and clears her throat before making a reply. “Mijo, your mother has always, always wanted to help others. That’s what she was born to do.” She puts her hand on Carmen’s cheek. “That, of course, and bring you into this world. The best Halloween treat ever, and one that we get to enjoy all year round.”
Carmen smiles, but it’s weak, and she puts her hands on her Nana’s shoulders. “Will he ever come back?”
“Not soon, little one. They put him away for a long, long time.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll worry about it. But know this: Grandpapa and I will be there for you and your mom no matter what.” She gracefully and slowly waves her hand toward the sky, as if tossing all the unease her granddaughter feels into that brisk breeze, letting it ride the wind all the way to the distant horizon. “That’s far, far off in the future, my little one. And he’s far, far away. So now, we just savor each and every moment. And more than anything, you, me, Grandpapa, and your mom just need to keep loving each other.”
Carmen, now crying, wraps her arms around Rose and buries her head into her shoulder, nearly dropping her “sticky web” bag as she does so. “Why did he hurt Mommy, Nana?”
The tears are infectious, and Rose has to wipe away her own. “Some people wear masks to pretend to be monsters, Carmen. It’s all make believe, and we get to smile and laugh. Have lots and lots of Halloween fun,” she says, her voice quivering. “But there are others that don’t have to wear a mask. And they don’t have to pretend.”
- Ghost of a Christmas Past - December 17, 2025
- Interview Q&A With Jim Bartlett - December 11, 2025
- Unmasked - October 27, 2025
