The Secrets of Hawthorne House

Chapter 7: Trick or Treat

By the final week of October, the tall oaks lining Hawthorne Drive had reached the peak of their colors, and the first yellow leaves slowly tumbled down to lie on lawns and sidewalks. All along Hawthorne Drive, the modest one- and two-story houses had been turned into happy Halloween haunts. Throughout the neighborhood, bright orange lights framed windows and doors, and small fluttering ghosts hung from the branches of many of the smaller trees in peoples' yards. Black plastic spiders sat on the cottony cobwebs that shrouded every bush, while jolly Jack-O-Lanterns stood silent guard at every porch. Front yards had become graveyards, and the occasional inept witch hung where she'd crashed headlong into a tree or the side of a house.

Yet the morning of Halloween had arrived with no change to Hawthorne House, making it appear decidedly underdressed with no sign of Halloween decorations.

"So Gerallt, doesn't your family celebrate Halloween?" Matt asked, as the Hawthorne children joined him and Tina at the bus stop. "You haven't put up any decorations, and I haven't heard you mention it all month."

"Of course we observe Halloween, only we call it Samhain," Gerallt said, exchanging wary glances with his sister. Unlike Wiccans, who pronounce the holiday as Sow-in, Gerallt pronounced the Gaelic word meaning the end of summer as Sahm-wan. "It's just that for us, the holiday doesn't start until dusk and we always wait until then tah decorate."

"Tonight is very special tah us," Gwyneth added solemnly.

"It's our new year," Gerallt continued. "We have a feast tah welcome the spirits of those who will be born in the comin' year and tah celebrate the lives of those who have passed in the previous year. Tonight, we'll celebrate the life of our fathah and welcome his spirit when he visits us from the Spirit World..."

Before Matt could decide how to respond to Gerallt's unexpected expectation that his father's ghost was going to visit him, Gareth said, "Samhain 's my favorite holiday. I love trick-or-treatin' and all the candy. Can I go with you and Gerallt tonight? Please? I promise not tah be a bothah or anythin'. Please, Matt?"

"Okay, Gareth," Matt said, his mind still spinning with what his friend had said. "So, Gerallt, what are you going to go as this year?"

"Thank you, Matt!" Gareth said, thrilled at the thought of joining the two older boys on their rounds through the neighborhood. "Gerallt and I will be wearin' wizard cloaks and hats. How about you?"

"I'm going as a vampire. I have a cool red and black cape and fake fangs from last year, and Dad bought me a vampire makeup kit with fake blood."

"What about you, Gwyneth?" Tina asked. "One of my friends is having a big party, and she said each of us could bring a friend. You want to go with me while the boys are out trick-or-treating?"

"Thank you, Tina," Gwyneth answered. "It is very kind of you tah invite me, but I really must help Mothah with the decoratin', hand out the treats, and help prepare for our Samhain celebration. Hopefully next time."

Just then, the school bus turned the corner, pulled up before them, and ended their conversation, once more leaving Matt with more questions than answers. The day passed quickly with class parties and endless discussions of costumes and the best routes for collecting the most candy. Then, it was back into the buses for the trip home, a quick dinner, and getting dressed for trick-or-treating.

The sun had just set as Matt, now transformed into a young vampire, walked out his front door to join Gerallt and Gareth for their planned evening of house-to-house candy extortion. Rising in the east like a pale pumpkin in the sky, a full moon peeked out from behind wispy translucent clouds. The temperature was dropping rapidly, and Matt drew his cheap black and scarlet cape around him with a flourish before striding out into the gathering darkness.

A thin mist was rising from the dew-drenched grass, forming a low layer of fog that darkened the shadows beneath the row of oaks lining Hawthorne Drive. Matt looked next door at the old Victorian mansion and was amazed by its transformation. Each tall window of the Hawthorne House framed a single colorful candle, burning with flickering flames of yellow, orange, or red. A few candles even burned with the same sickly shade of green that illuminated the bottom of the twin streams of smoke rising from the mansion's massive stone chimneys. The green glowing smoke bubbling out of the chimney pots rose only a few feet before cascading down the gabled roof to become a low-lying fog. Matt was surprised to see a black shape suddenly swoop through the smoke, only to be followed by another and yet another. Large bats fluttered around the twin chimneys and the three towers, feasting on clouds of ghostly moths seemingly drawn to the pale green smoke. Matt had seen the occasional brown bat before, but never so many and never as big as these.

As Matt gazed up in wonder at the fluttering forms, he noticed something strange out of the corner of his eye. There were no candles in the small attic windows, yet he thought he had spied a pale figure looking at him from one of the darkened windows. He looked back at the window, but the ghostly shape had vanished as quickly as it had appeared. It sent a shiver up his spine.

Walking slowly over to the Hawthorne's gate, Matt admired the fantastic cobwebs that covered their fence, bushes, and even the lower branches of the trees. They appeared to be real spider webs, not the thick, cottony, store-bought stuff he'd seen at the neighbor's houses. Each one was outlined in diminutive droplets of dew and hosted what looked like a large black spider sitting smugly at its center. Matt was impressed; the webs looked expensive, and it must have taken a lot of effort to drape them so realistically.

The gate creaked mournfully as Matt opened it. Thirteen of the most intricately-carved jack-o-lanterns he'd ever seen lined the front walk. Each had a different expression, some friendly and some almost terrifying, and every one worthy of wonder and envy. They were so incredible that Matt thought Gwyneth, her mother, and great-aunt must surely have worked all day on them.

The fog grew thicker. Matt looked into the darkness on either side of the walkway where the mist lay like a ghostly shroud upon the ground. It almost hid the fairy rings of large, white toadstools that had sprouted among the teepees of dried corn stalks and giant pumpkins at least a yard across. To his right, what looked like a real skeleton hung suspended by a hangman's noose from a lower branch of the huge oak in the corner of their front yard. To his left, another pair of realistic skeletons sat hand in hand in the small gazebo next to the fence between their houses. Clearly, Matt thought, the Hawthornes went all out on Halloween.

The covered porch was lined with more of the marvelous jack-o-lanterns. Cobwebs hung from the newly painted gingerbread trim and between the ornately-turned spindles of the recently-repaired railing. Leaning over to take a closer look at one of the webs, Matt jerked back in shocked surprise. Both the big black spider and its web were real! Turning in amazement, he went to the windows for a better look at the colored candles; they were real with flickering flames burning yellow, orange, red, or green.

Matt shook his head in admiration before looking back at the cheap decorations of his own home. He knew his father would never have allowed actual candles in windows with curtains, and he would never have approved of spending extra for special trick candles with colored flames. Wishing his father could afford better decorations, he reached up, lifted the heavy gargoyle-shaped doorknocker, and dropped it loudly on the old oak door.

There was a long, loud creak as Gwyneth slowly opened the door wide, giving Matt his first good look into the Hawthorne House as she stepped out on the porch. Yet in spite of his curiosity about the house, Matt found his eyes drawn to Gwyneth. She wore a tall black witch's hat, an elegant, black, Victorian gown with long, flowing sleeves that stopped just high enough to reveal her old-fashioned, black, buckled shoes and a glimpse of her orange and black striped stockings.

"Welcome, young vampire," Gwyneth said, holding out a small cauldron filled with homemade candy. "I'm afraid we ah fresh out of blood, but hopefully these candies will satisfy youah cravin's." She smiled warmly at Matt, who suddenly realized Gerallt's older sister wasn't merely pretty. She was beautiful.

"Er, thank you," Matt stuttered. "Are, uh..., Gerallt and Gareth ready? We're going trick-or-treating together."

"Just a second, young vampire; I shall see," she said, stepping back inside the house and closing the door. The muffled sound of her calling her brothers was immediately followed by the sound of their feet running and jumping down the staircase.

"Hi, Matt!" Gareth said, throwing open the door to join Matt on the porch.

"Happy Samhain!" Gerallt added as he quickly walked out and carefully closed the door behind them before Matt could get more than a glimpse of candles and stairs inside the darkened foyer. The boys were dressed identically as wizards from some fantasy movie or TV show. Each wore a tall conical hat and a heavy, dark-blue velvet cloak that reached to the ground. Each also held a long, wooden wizard's staff topped with a large crystal in one hand and a thin, black, metal cauldron for their candy in the other. However, what surprised and impressed Matt most was that they both had a live animal perched on their shoulder.

"Matt, say hello tah Nightwing," Gerallt said. The large crow sitting on Gerallt's shoulder c****d its head sideways to get a better look at Matt. Its black feathers sparkled a deep iridescent purple as the moon briefly shown from behind the rushing clouds. It greeted Matt with a friendly "Caw caw!"

"And this is Shadow," Gareth said, pointing to the large black squirrel sitting contentedly on his shoulder. "He's coming trick-or-treatin' with us!" Shadow stared solemnly at Matt and then lay down, wrapping his bushy tail around Gareth's neck. Although apparently satisfied that the young vampire's diet did not include squirrels, Shadow's shiny black eyes nevertheless remained warily on Matt.

"Wow!" was all that Matt managed to say. Dogs and cats, he could understand. Maybe even a pet guinea pig or gerbil, but crows and squirrels? "I've never known anyone who owned a crow or squirrel before. I didn't even know you could buy them." Matt had often watched the gray squirrels that lived in the old oaks lining Hawthorne Drive, but they were small compared to Shadow. "Do they bite?" Matt asked. "And how do you know they won't fly or run away?"

"Don't worry, Matt," Gerallt answered. "We've had them foah years, and they'ah very tame. Nightwing likes tah ride around on my shoulder, and if she flies off, it's just because she loves tah fly. She'll either come back tah me, or I'll find her sittin' on my windowsill when I return."

"And Shadow will just fall asleep on my shoulder if he gets bored," Gareth added, leaning forward so that Matt could get a better look at his pet.

"He's kind of big for a squirrel, isn't he?" Matt asked, slowly extending the back of his hand rather than his fingers in case the squirrel chose to bite a stranger. Having decided that Matt was a decent sort of vampire, the squirrel trustingly presented his neck for petting.

"Come on, Matt," Gerallt suggested. "I can't wait tah find out how Hawthorne compares with Deeah Isle when it comes tah candy." Stepping off the porch into the thick swirling fog, he solemnly held up his staff and intoned "Magna Dea, fac, quaesumus, ut lux sit!" The fist-sized amethyst crystal at its end gave off a soft purple glow to light the path before him.

Gareth likewise raised his staff and repeated the words "Magna Dea, fac, quaesumus, ut lux sit!" The somewhat smaller quartz crystal began to glow with a pale white light.

Matt assumed Gerallt and Gareth had flicked hidden switches to turn on the lights in their staffs. Matt hurried to join the two brothers who were striding purposefully into the night.

An hour passed. Gerallt, Gareth, and Matt were rapidly being weighed down with candy, small coins, and the occasional popcorn ball. Many people were intrigued by the boys' unusual pets. Meanwhile, there was also a small but steady stream of children visiting the Hawthorne House, although many of them demanded that their parents, or an older sibling, accompany them up to the town's infamous "haunted house." Yet Gwyneth answered each "trick-or-treat" with a smile, a handful of homemade chocolates and other candies, and a kind comment regarding the wearer's mask or costume. Overall, it was turning out to be a wonderful Halloween, with many parents admiring the amazing decorations and the obvious improvements that had been made to the Hawthorne House.

Then trouble approached.

Standing on the porch, Gwyneth could hear them coming long before she could see them through the fog. Colin O'Connell, Clayton Cartwright, and Dylan Jones were sauntering down Hawthorne Drive, arguing noisily over who had collected the most candy and loudly wondering whether it was time for some Halloween tricks instead of treats.

"There's the Hawthorne House," Clayton said, looking up at the mansion rising above the thickening fog. "And isn't that Matt Mitchell's house next door?" he continued, pointing at the modest two-story house to its left.

"Yeah," Colin replied. "I think we've finally found the place for our toilet paper and rotten eggs. Time for a little payback, eh Clayton?"

"Yeah, payback," Colin's toady, Dylan, agreed.

Clayton glanced down at the dirty cast covering his right hand and index finger and nodded cruelly. Although the black eyes he got from his broken nose had mostly faded, the hatred that still smoldered there made him look like a monstrous, rabid raccoon.

In short order, the three boys removed rolls of toilet paper from their trick bags and covered the lower branches of the oak trees in front of Matt's house with wide white ribbons.

"Okay," Colin said, as he admired their handiwork. "Now let's use the eggs next door." Then the three young vandals packed up their arsenal and strode up to the front gate of the Hawthorne House.

"Wow, look at those decorations," Clayton said, pointing at the candles and the pale green smoke rising from the twin chimneys. "And it looks like they're giving out candy this year. Let's go and get some before we egg the place."

"Sure, Clayton," Colin said, looking appreciatively at the candles with the colored flames. "Besides, I want a closer look at those lights."

"Wow, these spider webs are really realistic," Clayton observed as he walked up the path. "And these pumpkins are crazy. It'll almost be a shame to smash them."

"Damn, those spiders are huge," Dylan noted nervously, trying to stay close behind the two older boys without letting them know how scared he was getting. "And those skeletons look real!"

"Aw, back off, Dylan," Colin said, pushing the smaller boy back. "I'm not your mama. Besides, those are just expensive decorations. Nobody has real spiders and real skeletons."

They slowly climbed up the steps of the porch, and Colin was about to knock on the door when Dylan got a good look at the spider webs on the porch railings. "s**t, they're real spiders!"

Before the older boys could react, Dylan was off the porch and running as fast as he could back down the path to the street and safety. Colin and Clayton turned just in time to see Dylan duck behind a tree on the far side of the fence. The two boys looked at Dylan cowering in fear, looked back at each other, and laughed. "Hey, Dylan, stop being a baby and get back here!" Colin yelled.

Both remaining boys had their backs to the door and didn't notice when it quietly opened behind them. Gwyneth stood there with a witch's wand instead of the candy cauldron in her hand.

"The doah's ovah heah, boys," Gwyneth said, smiling grimly at the bullies' backs. "What ah you dressed as? Juvenile delinquents?"

"We're too old for kiddy costumes...," Colin snapped, turning around to see Gwyneth standing there in her witch's hat and old-fashioned black dress. "I see you aren't wearing a costume, either. What did you do? Borrow that dress from your grandma?"

"You know, if you ah goin' to insult someone," Gwyneth answered coldly, "then you should at least get your insults right. The dress is mine, not my great ahnt's." Looking over at Clayton standing there with his candy bag out, she asked, "Well, aren't you goin' tah say it?"

"Uh ... say what?" Clayton asked, surprised by the unexpected question.

"Trick-or-treat," Gwyneth said, shaking her head with scorn. "It's Halloween, isn't it? And you're heah for candy, aren't you?"

"Uh ... Trick-or-treat?" Clayton answered.

"Okay, I choose trick," Gwyneth replied, raising her wand and aiming it at the two boys in front of her. "Magna Dea, fac, quaesumus, ut vespertiliones veniant!"

Clayton took a startled step backward and turned to join Dylan out in the street. "Hold it, Clayton!" Colin commanded, grabbing the bigger boy by the arm. "You don't scare us," he said to Gwyneth. "The stories about Old Lady Hawthorne being a witch are just something to scare little kids. She's no witch, and neither are you. You can't hex us."

"Are you so sure, Colin O'Connell?" Gwyneth asked.

Colin was about to ask her how she knew his name when a dozen large bats suddenly swooped onto the porch and began flapping rapidly around Colin and Clayton's heads. Clayton let out a yelp, yanked his arm loose from Colin's grasp, and made a run for the street. Colin held his ground for an instant until a bat landed on his shoulders. Then he too broke and ran.

The boys had barely made it halfway to the gate when Gwyneth again waved her wand and whispered "Magna Dea, fac, quaesumus, viam lubricam! Magna Dea, fac, quaesumus, ut sacci eorum scindant!"

Both boys' feet slipped out from under them, and they landed with a crash on their bags containing the rotten eggs. Simultaneously, their candy bags flew up in the air, ripped, and dumped their contents in front of several small children who had just entered the gate. The little ghosts, goblins, and princesses made a mad scramble for the candy scattered at their feet, while Colin and Clayton limped angrily out into the street, leaving the sulfurous stench of rotten eggs trailing behind them.

The jack-o-lanterns along the Hawthorne's sidewalk smirked as the three vandals vanished back into the darkness from which they'd come. The mess from the broken eggs and toilet paper on the tree in front of the Mitchell's house had vanished as if they had never existed.

It wasn't long afterward that Matt, Gerallt, and Gareth finally turned toward home. As they moved farther out into the neighborhood, the fog that had faded away returned and grew thicker with each homeward step they took. The full moon now loomed large and orange over the steeply-gabled roof of Hawthorne House. Matt's bag and the brothers' cauldrons were overflowing with candy, and their legs and feet were tired as they trudged up Hawthorne Drive to stop in front of their homes.

"We did really good, didn't we?" Matt asked, hefting his heavy bag. "I think a lot of people gave us extra candy because of Nightwing and Shadow."

"Ayuh," Gerallt answer, gazing appreciatively at the candy nearly overflowing his black cauldron. "Hawthorne's not Deeah Isle, but it's not half bad eithah. This'll keep us in candy for weeks."

Gareth's face practically glowed as he sat down on the curb to sample some of his treats.

"Do you want to come in?" Matt invited. "We can have some hot chocolate, sort our candy, and trade for our favorites."

Gerallt looked up at the moon, gauging the time. "I'm afraid that'll have tah wait 'til tomorrow. It's almost time for ah Samhain celebration." He looked down at his brother, who was finishing off a large candy bar. "And, Gareth, you'd bettah wipe that chocolate off your face befoah Mothah sees you. You know you'ah not allowed tah spoil youah appetite before the feast."

"Aw, Gerallt, it's only one piece," Gareth complained, wiping his mouth with the sleeve of his cloak.

"You know Mothah's already upset, trying tah make everythin' tonight perfect for Fathah," Gerallt said, going through the gate to their house. "Come on, Gareth, let's go. See ya, Matt. It was great!"

"Bye, Matt," Gareth repeated, waving as he followed his brother up the front walk. "Thanks foah lettin' me come along with you!"

"Okay... Uh, see you both tomorrow," was all Matt could think to say as he watched them walk past the jack-o-lanterns and up the stairs to their porch.

Gwyneth opened the door and bent down to place a plate of apples and Halloween cookies at her feet for any hungry spirits that might come by. She waved briefly to Matt and then led her brothers inside for the Hawthorne family feast and Samhain celebration. Matt paused a few minutes to admire the Hawthorne's amazing Halloween decorations once more before turning back to his own home with its cheap, store-bought decorations.

Matt's house was dark and quiet when he walked in the front door. Tina was spending the night at her friend's Halloween party, and his father was sitting in front of his computer at the dining room table, working on a program he'd brought home from work. Matt went up to his room and dumped his candy onto the bed. He started to sort it into piles, but he couldn't keep his mind on his candy.

All that Matt could think about was how strange the Hawthornes were and what it must be like to be Gerallt, living in the Hawthorne House and having a crow for a pet. And how it would be to celebrate Halloween as some kind of weird, religious holiday with a special feast for the dead. He wondered what it must be like to believe that your father's spirit would somehow rise from the ocean's depths to visit you one night a year. Most of all, Matt wished his mother could visit him that night, just like Gerallt thought his father was going to visit him. Matt didn't believe in ghosts, but maybe he could at least dream they existed. So he put away his candy, got ready for bed, and wished with all his might he would see his mother in his dreams.

As Matt slept, he dreamed he was walking along the Oregon coast when his mother called him home for dinner. However, this time, no nightmare prevented him from reaching the safety of his seaside cottage and the security of his mother's embrace.

Thus, Matt didn't see the candlelight coming from beneath the shades of the Hawthorne's dining room windows as they held their Halloween feast. And he didn't see the soft flickering of green light in the third-floor windows of the round tower where they secretly observed their sacred Samhain Sabbat.