Page 78 of Sort of Seeing Someone

“There’s a Radio Flyer wagon right there,” Ollie points out. “And a Home Depot on Ashland Avenue. As long as you guys are okay with a last-minute costume change, I think I have an idea. What time does trick-or-treating start?”

“In an hour,” I tell him.

“Perfect! I’ll be right back.”

I bring the kids inside and turn onThe Nightmare Before Christmas. The classic film distracts the boys while Charlie ices his ankle and Matteo enjoys the last moments of sulking in his Buzz Light Year costume before we pivot to whatever Ollie has in store for them.

Ollie returns a half hour later and goes straight into the garage where Esteban keeps his tools. I hear the sound of a power saw and some hammering. I can deal with a bruised ankle, but I don’t know the first thing about treating a sliced off finger. Whatever he’s doing in there, he better be careful.

“You guys ready to see your costumes?” Ollie says from the doorway into the attached garage.

The boys turn their heads around so fast, I can practically hear the whiplash. Admittedly, I’m just as excited.

Ollie wheels the wagon in from the back door. It has effectively been transformed into a garbage truck. Sheets of plywood have been painted in the same colors as the local waste management company, down to a mini-sized version of their exact logo, and both pieces have been adhered to the sides of the wagon.

He then hands Matteo a neon worker vest and a matching hard hat, along with a pair of utility gloves.

“Matteo, you’re going to be the garbage man. Your job is to hang off the back of the wagon and when we arrive at a house, you’re going to hop off, run up to the door as fast as you can, and get the candy.”

“What about me?” Charlie asks.

“Glad you asked, buddy,” Ollie says. “You’re going to be…the garbage. And you’ll get to sit right inside the wagon, which is the back of the garbage truck, as we pull you from house to house. No one will even suspect you’ve got a bum ankle. They’ll just assume you’re expertly playing the role of…trash.”

He hands him a clear garbage bag filled with actual junk. In it, I see a crumpled KFC bag, empty Starbucks cups, some tissue paper, crushed soda cans, and more.

“THIS. IS. AWESOME!” Charlie screams.

Charlie is elated. I’m horrified.

“Don’t worry, this was all from my car. It’s clean. Well, as clean as garbage gets, I suppose. You’re bringing hand sanitizer, right?”

I locate the nearest container of Purell—seeing that this is Nora’s house, that’s not far—and hold it up.

“Perfect! Then I think we’re all ready to get into costume and hit the road. What do you think, garbage men? Are you ready to get a little dirty?”

The two of them let out squeals of excitement at an octave that only kids can achieve, and I am officially grateful that Ollie has saved the day. Now if only he could do something about the weather. Here’s to hoping the skies stay dry until we all come back with at least ten pounds of candy.

It’s 8:30pm by the time we’ve sorted through the candy and put the boys to bed. I’ve changed into plaid pajama pants and anoversized t-shirt, while Ollie has lost the novelty cloak for a spare pair of grey joggers he kept in his trunk. The backwards Harry Potter scar has also since been washed away.

“It’s just you and me now. They’re officially asleep,” I tell Ollie as I join him on the couch in the living room. Normally, the boys don’t go down this easy, but all the walking combined with fresh air, combined with the steep fall of an intense sugar high, has rendered them near comatose. I am not complaining.

Ollie puts his arm around me. A giant bowl of popcorn (with a few M&Ms mixed in) is nestled between the two of us as we watch the cult classicScream. A bolt of lightning flashes in the sky. It’s all so very spooky.

“I’m not sure I properly thanked you,” I say.

“For protecting you from murderers making prank phone calls in silly ghost-face masks?”

“No, for saving Halloween. I wasthis closeto calling things off with Charlie’s bum ankle. But that little engineer brain of yours kicked in and got us back on track. A garbage man and a bag of trash? Genius.”

“I have to confess I did do a quick Pinterest search when I got to Home Depot and it was either that or ‘a toilet and fart cloud’.”

“Well, either way, you pulled it off in record time. Can I at least pay you back for supplies?”

“Don’t be ridiculous. Rigging the wagon probably brought me more joy than it did them, let’s be honest.”

“And let’s not forget,” I add. “Far more difficult than rigging the wagon is winning the boys’ hearts—which you did. They can be stubborn little shits, those two.”

“And how about you?”

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