For Halloween, 2008. Duo POV.
This is definitely my favorite time of year. I mean, come on! Every store is flooded with silly decorations celebrating the holiday, and I'll be the first to admit that my bank account takes a bit of a hit whenever this time of year rolls around. Tons of candy, fake spider webs, finding that perfect pumpkin to carve an angry face into... who wouldn't find this fun? Well, surely someone who just doesn't enjoy getting a bit of a scare for funsies, that's who. A down to earth type of fellow, I'd imagine... someone who no matter how hard you try, he'll always be two steps away from doing anything that'll make him look slightly foolish just to save face.
Someone who has a lifetime motto of, "Well, I don't see the point in getting scared for fun. I certainly don't get any enjoyment out of almost dying from a heart attack".
Why am I so cruel? I ask myself that all the time and never quite fully understand why it's my goal to make him enjoy Halloween as much as I do. I mean, I know how much simple things terrify him and yet I do it anyway. I had a conversation with him about this maybe four years ago. We were both sitting on the coach and he was dinking around on the new game console he bought to pass the time, and suddenly he hit the pause button and turned towards me with a very serious look in his eyes.
"I don't get it," he said and turned back towards his game console, leaving me dumbfounded with a poptart sticking out of my mouth. At the time, I had no fucking clue what he was talking about because he didn't quite elaborate on his cryptic sentence. Later, I discovered what he meant to discuss with me was that he didn't understand this holiday and why people celebrated it. Ghosts and goblins and rabid bears on our lawn... err... well, maybe not the bear but everything else. I continuously explain to him that it's not just the idea of getting scared that makes the holiday what it is, but the whole idea bringing people together to just let loose and be kids again. Let your inner hooligan out, as I tend to describe it to weary friends.
Last week, I took him to a humongous party store to buy some candy and decorations, and he stood in front of a shelf for so long I had to walk over to see what caught his attention.
"So, this is what Halloween is all about?"
He was smiling just a little bit, small enough where I knew he was trying to hide it but big enough for me to take notice. On the shelf in front of him was a plastic head on a board with a cheerful button in front of it telling us to push it. I pushed it without another thought and chuckled when the eyes popped open and a disgusting moan came from the mouth.
"Pretty much."
He stood motionless for a second, his small smile transforming into an even smaller frown as he watched the head vibrate on the little board. Before I had time to contemplate what was going on in that brain of his, he turned and started walking down the aisle of props and gags towards where I was standing in front of a glorious selection of candy. Ah ha! He tried to hide it, but I definitely saw his eyes light up as he took in the sight of all the candy in front of us. Mr. I have to look good for the public was a definite sweet tooth, and I knew he would crumble once he saw how much they sold at this time of year.
"Holy moly!" just a whisper, but I heard it... oh, yes I did.
Marshmallow pumpkins, gummies in the shape of ghosts, snickers, M&Ms... everything you could possibly want, and in fun Halloween colors! I throw everything I see him looking at into our little basket, and he gives me a strange look that I disregard while I pick up more and more candy. I explain to him that the candy isn't just for us, but for our friends and whoever happens to come to our house on that night! That explanation seems to make him feel better and he starts to liven up the conversation like he usually does, and we move throughout the store talking like we always do.
The conversation gets a little quieter when I start picking out decorations for the house itself, and he eyes them with a great level of distaste.
"You see.. kids are more likely to come to houses that have lights on and a little bit of decoration. Something as simple as a skeleton for the door means that we have candy and they won't waste their time by coming... get it?"
He smiles and nods his head, then excuses himself to go browse around the rest of the store while I decided on more stuff for the house.
After that trip, he seemed to brighten up about the holiday a little. He even bought a big candy bowl while I was finishing some stuff up at work days later and had the huge pile of candy sitting by the door when I walked into the house. One thing I will say about him is that even if he openly does not enjoy something, he will try his best to make sure the people who do like it feel accepted during that time. He sat outside on the porch and drank some iced tea while he watched me string up various tacky decorations around his house, occasionally commented or letting his laughter urge me on. Once I finished putting the fake tombstones all around his yard, covering the front steps with cobwebs and hanging little ghosts from the trees, I settled on the porch with him and we gazed around at my handywork. I can see why he isn't used to this holiday... participation bled out pretty heavily as the years went on, and he constantly mentions to me that his family never did this sort of thing when he was a kid and it's all so new to him.
He helps me carve the pumpkin, and I give him most of the creative freedom to make his first pumpkin however he feels it should be. Once that's all done, he walks it out onto the front porch and sets it on the steps with the candle inside of it blaring bright and casting weird shadows onto the walkway.
Many uneventful days pass with all of us going to work and some of us going to our college classes. School work has a way of bombarding you when there's about to be a holiday break, and I spend many depressing hours figuring out math problems and writing an essay about god knows what. Juggling school and work has always been difficult for me, but I truck along like I always do and just do what needs to be done. Plus, I have a big bowl of candy I dip into for motivation to keep going so I can have some fun once I'm done.
In the middle of a really long ass math problem, I have to pause to take a quick look around the room to see if the movement I saw out of the corner of my eye was real or just mind games. Hallucination tends to occur a lot when I'm doing math, I've noticed. Turning back to the task at hand, I get back to work and finish another seven math problems before I feel something land on the top of my head. Tilting my head forward, I see something black fall from my head in front of my eyes and I'm out of my seat in a second.
Chaos ensues. My chair topples over behind me and before I can get away, I kick the table and I watch in horror as the whole thing wobbles and finally collapses forward into the wall, dumping my textbooks and homework and my bottle of Sprite over onto the floor. The black thing... which I now notice has legs, falls with all my stuff and in a panic, I start shaking my head to make sure I got everything out of my hair.
Okay, I get it. I'm a baby. But who the hell wants something crawling all over their head and laying creepy eggs in their hair? Not me. No sir.
I hear a snort from behind me and immediately freeze, my hands tangled in my bangs. Red creeps up into my cheeks and I slowly turn and see him peeking at me and clearly trying to hide his grin. Before I realize what happened, he's on the floor laughing his ass off and I'm investigating the plastic spider that terrified me...
How embarrassing. I think of possible ways of immediate revenge, but the look on his face and his wild laughter is just too much to resist. Half-heartedly glaring at him, I throw the plastic spider back at him and he catches it without breaking his insane cackling at my expense. He looks up at me, shooting me his innocent look with that feral grin still on his face. I can tell he's about to say something, so I decide to wait for him to finish his crazy fit of glee and get off the floor. That stupid grin on his face dies down into a sweet, friendly smile. He adjusts his clothes, and says one word to me...
"Boo!"
And he's gone, running from the room in a blur of clothes and blonde hair. I can't resist giving in to the chase, screaming at him the whole time.
"Quatre! Get back here!"
Guess he realizes what this holiday is all about now...