Page 6 of The King of Halloween
“And who exactly is piloting this new float?”
“Someone new. Way I hear it, he bought the old Hart Hotel and is going to turn it into a haunted house.”
Adam laughed hard at the idea. “A haunted house? Anoka hasn’t had a haunted house in… Oh god, how old am I? Thirty-something years?” Every few seasons, there was a rumbling that so-and-so was going to buy up an abandoned warehouse and put a haunt in there. The town rallied, excited to add yet another Halloween activity to the mix. Then the permits fell through, the money ended, the building collapsed, and they were once again hauntless on Halloween.
“Sounds like he’s really gung-ho about it,” Marianne said.
“Mrs. Getty,” her minion shouted from the crowd. A massive orange sphere weaved above heads until the poor, panting girl damn near collapsed at Marianne’s feet. “I’ve got it.”
“Good. Now give it to him.”
Adam climbed down to meet her. As he did, he caught Marianne’s eye. “So was Curly, and we all know how that haunted hayride through ankle-high corn went.”
“You don’t think it’ll happen?” she asked.
“Of course not.” Adam started to laugh when twenty pounds of orange cardboard and paint plopped over his head. He tried to peer through the nostrils but could only get one eye out. “I’d stake my crown on it.”
“Get to your seat, Pumpkin King,” Marianne said. She swung down her headset and ordered the next float off.
“Whoa!” Adam fell back onto the plywood throne. He clung to the fake pumpkin three times the size of his head lest first it, then he, tumbled to the pavement.
It might be cheesy, and a little cheap in the sunlight, but he was their king, and Halloween was the best time of year.
With one hand on his jack o’lantern cheek, Adam gave a queenly wave to the crowd and cried out, “Happy Halloween!” His voice echoed so loudly inside the pumpkin, his ears started ringing in under a block.
?
“Candy! Candy for all!” Adam gave his best demonic laugh, ensuring he’d be deaf for the rest of the day, but the kids ate it up. Probably. It was hard for him to see with only one eye managing through the triangular slit for a nose.
From what little he could tell, it sounded like the parade was off to another smashing success. Everyone was ecstatic to meet their beloved Halloween king. He was Santa Claus’ svelte and spooky cousin. Only, instead of filling their stocking with toys, he was ensnaring them in a trap of terror and trauma.
Also candy.
It was not Halloween without candy.
With a triumphant flare, Adam swung the entire scoop’s worth out. Fruity tootsie rolls rained down on their heads like pennies from heaven. The children all giggled and raced around the pile on the sidewalk, but one was bold. In the familiar purple and gold windbreaker, he approached the float itself. Greedy fingers at the ready, he reached for the closest bag to steal a stash for himself.
Adam watched it all while acting like he wasn’t. With a wicked grin, he thumbed a button under his throne’s arm. A skeleton’s hand whipped out of the float, and a witch’s cackle burst from the speakers. The would-be candy thief leaped back before the undead could claim his head. As he landed on his feet, a tiny hand clutched to his racing heart, his eyes went wide. But when the float carried on past, he gave out a laugh and raced back to his fellow school children.
That was the joy of Halloween. Fear—yes—but contained, knowable, survivable fear. The scares were to get the blood pumping and tickle right up against the node that causes unending laughter, not induce years of trauma. This was the only time of year when they put their monsters on a pedestal instead of a stake.
The float began to turn, following the curve around their main street statue. As they passed, Adam raised two fingers toward the gilded scarecrow hanging from his perch. “Hello, Stitches,” he greeted it. For a beat, Adam watched, making certain that the downward hat didn’t shift in the wind, or the burlap sack didn’t wink around the sunken eye socket. The statue remained as it always was.
“Whoa!” The ground pitched under him. His pumpkin head flew back, and he slammed a palm to it as the float came to a screeching stop. Marianne walked in front, clipboard out to hold them in place. Then she nodded to the float ahead.
Adam hadn’t thought much of it when it had pulled in. The playhouse out of Chucky’s nightmares on the flatbed was quaint but nothing exactly eye-catching. From his position at the back, he hadn’t been able to make out who was in front of him, not until it turned before the final leg of the parade.
In the crowd on their private platform, sat the mayor and a few council members. They were the deciding vote in the Halloween King race. Sure, they’d pretend that the people had just as much of a say, but Adam knew the truth. The crown went to whoever brought in the most tourist gold that year. If the next thirty-one days went as well as the first, Adam’s record-setting five-year streak was a guarantee.
Thunder rolled from speakers below the flatbed ahead of him.Is there gonna be a show? Interesting. Excited, Adam sat down on his throne and watched. A flicker of lightning zapped across the small house’s black turrets. Then a great roar rose in the air as all of the little gargoyles opened their mouths.
That can’t be an animatronic. They aren’t much bigger than my palm.
A moon hung above the house, and clouds crawled across the yellow sphere, followed by a swarm of bats, and—finally—a witch on her broom gave a good cackle. A loud doorbell went off, nearly peaking the speakers. Intrigued, Adam leaned to the side. He was able to spot the front door of the little house. It was a bit warped, but it looked like it swung open to utter darkness.
The street went quiet, watching a definitely projected trick-or-treater standing in front of the steps—pumpkin bucket waving in anticipation. Adam couldn’t quite make it out from his angle. People were holding their breath, so there must be something good.
Curiosity getting ahold of him, he leaned even farther. A creak rose from the rickety old throne, and two legs lifted off of the platform. It was fine. He had balance and poise.
