Page 52 of Dropping the Ball

There’s a gasp beside me, and I look over to see Katie staring down at them with wide eyes, as delighted as if a pack of puppies just frolicked up to the door.

“You’re adorable,” she says.

She gets a chorus of thank yous from three of the girls, but the pirate scowls. “I am scary.”

Kaitlyn jumps behind me. “There’s a pirate, Batman,” she says in a loud whisper as she cowers.

Three small voices giggle, but the pirate only gives a pleased nod.

“Aye, therrrre is,” I say as Batman. “I’ll give them their loot and she’ll go away.”

I drop a candy bar into each of their bags while Katie periodically peeks around me and ducks back every time she sees the pirate.

“Thank you,” three little voices say when I’ve dropped in the final candy bar. The pirate leans forward, looks me dead in the eye and says, “POOP DECK.” She makes every consonant count. The princess gasps, the ladybugs giggle again, and an exasperated adult in the entourage behind them calls, “Gentry Lynn! Apologize.”

Gentry Lynn’s eyes form slits. “Dead men tell no tales.”

It takes everything I’ve got to keep my stern Batman face, especially when I can feel quivering against my back that tells me Katie isn’t even trying.

The pirate leads her boarding party back to their parents while a mom calls an apology to me, and I give a single grim nod to let them know I will not be visiting vengeance on them for Gentry Lynn’s threats to Batman.

When they reach the sidewalk, I finally let my laugh out, and Katie emerges, grinning and unrepentant.

“I understand now why I couldn’t opt out. You were right. Imagine if I’d left the porch light off but they’d seen another light on in my house?” She shivers. “Thank you, Batman.”

“You’re welcome,” I rasp, but it makes me cough, and she grins at me again. “You’re a natural, by the way. You’re going to ace Halloween.”

She plucks a candy bar from the box I’m holding and flips it in her hand a couple of times. “I’m going towinHalloween.”

“Not with that stupid costume, you won’t.”

She frowns and glances down. “Oh, yeah. What was your big plan? Because I might be giving just-came-in-from-my-fancy-stable vibes, but I am definitely not giving cowgirl.”

I pick up the rest of the candy and lead her to the driveway, where I set up two camp chairs with a cooler between them. I divide the candy boxes into even stacks in front of the chairs and pick up the trucker hat resting on the cooler. I show her the front with the Herbert Metalworks logo on it. “Hat from the job site,” Iexplain before I settle it on her head. Hmmm. “Nope. That’s not it.” I turn it around. “That’s not cowboy either. That’s not even country boy. That’s just hot girl at the sports bar.”

Her lips part but she just stares at me. I pretend not to notice and step back to study her, thinking.

“What?” She reaches up to touch the cap. “What do I need to fix?”

“Shhh. I’m getting inspiration.”

She snorts, forgetting to be self-conscious. “I cannot take you seriously while you’re in costume.”

“Incharacter,” I tell her. I loop my thumbs through my Batman utility belt, cop style, while I consider the possibilities. Her eyes drop to my belt and there’s that hard swallow again before she pulls her gaze up, right as I figure out a solution. I break character to grin. “Got it.”

Cradling her face, I smear the pencil I drew on. Her eyes go wide. “Trust me,” I tell her, smudging until I’m satisfied. “You need a couple more accessories.”

I go back to my truck and grab a wrench from my toolbox and the chamois I use to dry my windows at the car wash. I hand her the wrench. “Front shirt pocket.” And the chamois. “Back jeans pocket.”

She tucks them each where I tell her. “What am I now?”

I pull her over to look in the truck’s side mirror. “Batman’s mechanic.”

She stoops and laughs at her reflection. “Grease monkey. I get it. All right, Croft. Points for improvising.”

“Am I winning Halloween so far?”

“You got cussed out in three-year-old pirate, so let’s call it a tie.”

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