A TREAT OR A TRICK

     

Looking back, I have decided that my Mother was amazing!  She worked at a glass factory 8 hours a day and still came home to spend time with me before bedtime, read a story, and play Parcheesi (a game I insisted on playing).  But one Halloween, she outdid herself for sure.  I was 9 or 10, and Halloween was still a significant event in my kid year.  I looked forward to it almost as much as Easter, but not nearly as much as Christmas.  So, one night in early October at play time, Mom asked, “How would you like to have a Halloween party?”  “Why sure!” I replied, but I was not really sure what a Halloween party would be like, and I guess I looked puzzled because she added, “Just leave it to me…I will call the moms of your Cub Scout Den, and you invite your cousins, and don’t forget Bruce.”  I was surrounded by “cousins” one or twice removed.  My grandfather had built our small cottage between the homes of his two brothers, and they both had a bunch of kids. One cousin, Bruce, was my nemesis – the famous neighborhood bully. He was noted for his violent reprisals whenever anyone beat him at marbles, basketball foul shots, or even rummy on a rainy day.   I wondered why my Mother had decided that I had to invite Bruce.  Little did I realize she was up to producing a Halloween trick!  So, after throwing a marble game, I asked him the next day, and losing one of my favorite Tommy Trollers to avoid a black eye or worse.  To my surprise, he said he would come!   Yikes, he never went to parties; of course, he was never invited to any, primarily out of fear that he would do something bad to someone before the cake was served.  And so, a couple of nights before Halloween, ten boys all in costume, except Bruce, were assembled in our living room.  My Mother had been working on the event for days.  And it was a big secret as she worked in the laundry room.  It was off limits for me, and this was driving me crazy.  The festivities began with my grandmother turning out all the lights and turning on our record player – eerie organ music filled the darkness.  Mom entered carrying a candle – and she was dressed like a witch!  Tall, peaked hat, black cape (I later learned my grandmother made the costume), and she was riding an old broom.  We all shrieked, except Bruce, who was too cool to be impressed.  We sat mesmerized as this green-faced old witch cackled and conjured up the fun. First, she “read” our palms and told our fortunes – and she was hilarious.  I had no idea where she got the script for this.  (Later, she told me she had chatted with all the moms for some funny stuff to tell)  Next, Nanny served us cider and homemade cinnamon donuts.  We ate and played games for a couple of hours, pin the tail on the ghost, guess the monster charades, and then the big moment arrived.  Mom produced a long tube from a roll of paper towels that she had painted black and orange. – After showing it, she said in her best witch impersonation that it was a “magic spyglass” and if someone peered into it, they would see a real ghost.  But it only works once a night, so who would like to be brave enough to take a look?  Bruce immediately grabbed it and declared, “I’m the oldest, and the rest of you are too afraid.” This was the first sound he had said all night. Most of the time, he had been scowling, letting everyone know that he was much too cool to enjoy the kid games.  Mom explained that he had to look deep into the darkness of the device.  He put it to his eye and growled that he saw nothing.  Mom said maybe he should turn it a bit.  He did.  Not a thing! She suggested he try the other eye – again, NOTHING he yelled.  He took the tube away and snarled, “This lousy thing ain’t working”!  The room went wild with laughter!  The tube left big black circles around each eye.  Mom had added her mascara to the end of the tube.   For us ten-year-olds, this was the greatest practical joke ever, played on the one person that surely deserved it – we hooted for a long time, not caring that we might later feel the wrath of Bruce the next day after school.  For once, Bruce got the black eyes, not one of us.  Bruce had no idea what was going on until Mom gave him a mirror and he took a look.  He was mortified.  She gave him a wet paper towel to wash off his “black eyes”!  He didn’t say another word and just grabbed another donut.  And we all knew he knew he was undone by a mom no less, and not by a big kid’s punch.  The next day, I saw him on the school playground and anticipated a bad end to my mom’s practical joke, but he just looked at me with a smirky smile rather than his usual glare. 

    The best Halloween Ever was over for another year, and from that day forward, Bruce the Bully left all of us alone.