Page 28 of The King of Halloween
“Look at them go,” the mayor shouted to the gathering crowd. “I see ten on the Smiths’ table and, wow, a whole twenty-five apples in front of Mr. Chowdery.”
“Twenty-six and seven!”
Adam’s head swiveled at the proclamation. Raj slammed both apples down with a fat grin on his face.How? He’d been behind and he’d…Adam did a quick rundown of the apples. They were losing? No.
“Ma!” he shouted. “Second gear.”
“Oh, dear.”
Glaring across the way, Adam started double-dipping the apples so fast that caramel flew across the table. The nearly-boiling sugar dripped down his bare arms, but he didn’t even flinch. His focus was on the man beside him, their eyes constantly meeting even as they tried to look away.
“I fear we’re running out of room,” his mother called. She held a pile of cellophane circles with nowhere to put them. Nearly the whole table was claimed by finished apples. Smiling to himself at easily topping his previous record, Adam looked to his right and saw the same problem with his competitor.
“I’ll move the pot,” he said. Using the apples, he shoved the caramel two inches toward the edge of the table. “There, that should…”
The shadows moved, and caramel galumphed inside of the other crock pot sliding along the way. Where there’d once been a good two feet between them, now there was one. Raj cast a challenging glare Adam’s way. Then he dipped his pinkie across his eyebrows, highlighting that damn thick forearm. The stick snapped in Adam’s hand, and he looked away.
“Fifteen minutes,” the mayor shouted.
“I need more apples!” Adam called to the mayor.
“Me too,” his competitor added.
“Wow. The vigor these two are showing for charity is impressive. Bring in another bushel!” The mayor waved over their volunteers, who slapped the boxes down at Adam’s and Raj’s feet. Rather than take the time to lay the apples out, Adam stabbed his little sticks into the first bit of white flesh he could find. Juice dripped down his fingers and forearms. As it hit the caramel, a hiss boiled, but he couldn’t bother with that.
“Adam…” his mother cried out.
“Moving again.” He gave her another three inches. And once again, Raj did the same.
They’d come so close together, Adam could feel the breeze of his arm flapping away in a panic. Two at a time wasn’t good enough. Adam upped it by doing four at once. “You’re forgetting the sprinkles,” he taunted his competitor. “That’ll cost you.”
“Damn it.” Raj cursed. He had to put down his apples to help the bamboozled Marta struggling to keep up. Poor thing was redder than the red delicious on Adam’s stick. Scooping his hands through the purple and green jimmies, Raj gave him all the time Adam needed to pass him.
“You’ve got this, right? Keep going. You’re doing great,” Raj cheered to the mayor’s wife before returning right next to Adam.
“Son…”
“Keep at it, Mom. Just a few more!” he cheered her on, too focused on his job to look over.
“At least I can dunk them in caramel.” Raj sniffed as he slammed six into the pot at once. “Yours are barely coated.”
“How dare you question my ability to…” Adam’s manic energy paused, and he stared at the apples in his fingers. The caramel only reached a quarter of the way up. Damn it. How many did he screw up?
That can be fixed later. Double dipping, he made sure to drown the fruit before passing them off. A little scoff crawled down his spine like a fingernail scratch. He shuddered and reached for his apples at the same time Raj shoved his stick into the box.
“What are you doing?” Adam shouted.
“Those are mine,” Raj insisted, stealing one of the apples.
“No, they’re mine.” Adam shoved him aside with his hip and loaded a dozen into his arms. Bypassing the sticks, he dumped them into his crock pot and stirred them around. Stabbing into the top, he exhumed one for the sprinkles. Then that bastard reached over and shoved one of his sticks into Adam’s apple.
“What the hell?” Adam cried out. “You’re cheating!” He lunged, grabbing Raj’s bare forearm.
“No. You stole mine. I’m taking it back!” He wrenched his arm forward, causing the apple to sway on the stick. Adam reached out to catch it. A breeze kicked up, and the fruit fell. It bounced on the table, then rolled through the grass.
“My mistake. I guess it was yours,” Raj declared, and he bent over to his side.
Fuming, Adam glared at the sharp sticks laid out on the table. The mayor paced around, counting out the last few minutes. No one cared that he cheated. No one cared that everyone was conniving together to take awayhiscrown.
