“Halloween afternoon; a small town; most of the store windows decorated with gravestones, witches, devils, and ghosts. Childish drawing. A little girl dressed as a rabbit being led across the street by her mother. A little boy in his mother’s skirts and shoes, his face smeared with her lipstick, leaning against a lamppost. The excitement of a holiday.”
Halloween was the third of the Big Three holidays when I was a kid, judged by the intensity
of our anticipation and greed. In order: Christmas, Birthday, Halloween, with
St. Valentine’s Day a distant fourth (for the candy, not love). One year my
parents went to a costume party. My mother rented a rabbit costume. My father
wore his old Ike jacket, holstered .45 and fake beard, and went as Fidel
Castro.
“After dark,
children approaching lighted doors. A trick or treat. At ten or eleven a cold
rain established itself firmly.”
We were home
long before that. An old lady down the block dropped pennies in our sacks. A
man two blocks away gave out small promotional loaves of Wonder Bread. No one
worried about needles in candy bars or Seconal capsules handed out like
jellybeans. One year, some older kid dropped a firecracker into a friend’s trick-or-treat
bag, blowing out the bottom and spewing candy on the sidewalk.
“[The rain]
fell on the quick and the dead and the unborn. What a profound pleasure I took
in hearing it fall. How clearly I saw the complexity of the ground where it
fell; dry leaves, curved leaves, hair moss and partridgeberry.”
The quoted
passages are from a 1952 entry in The
Journals of John Cheever (1991). In his story “Artemis, the Honest
Well-Digger” (published in the January 1972 issue of Playboy), the title character writes in a letter to a woman in the
Soviet Union:
“Tonight is
Halloween. I don’t suppose you have that is Russia. It is the night when the
dead are supposed to arise, although they don’t, of course, but children wander
around the streets disguised as ghosts and skeletons and devils and you give
them candy and pennies. Please come to my country and marry me.”
My maternal grandmother was a penny-giver. She saved them up in a big jar all year. Each kid got 2 cents for Halloween. At least in my part of the world, if you tried to give pennies these days you'd probably get your house egged.
ReplyDelete