All Hallow's Tale

Halloween is such a cool time. The leaves are changing, the weather is fantastic (depending on how chilly your neck of the woods is) and the air is ripe with the smell of decomposing leaves.

Pumpkins are carved and pie is made, people get together for Halloween parties and kids can't wait to see what kind of loot they may or may not get.

And of course, as a teenager, you look forward to Halloween because it's the one time of year where you can defame and destroy property all in the 'Spirit of the Season'.

As a teenager, Halloween made everyone nervous for a few reasons--firstly, you had to buy your supplies early. Toilet paper and eggs aren't sold on Halloween for a good reason. Living as a teenager with an allowance meant that buying something a week early would mean a week without video games or magazines or whatever it was I blew my cash on.

Secondly, you wanted to make sure your cool quotient was high enough that when the other assholes of the night came knocking, they didn't mess with your house. I have been rolled once, and it wasn't a fun experience. I have, however, rolled many times, and loved it.

...except that one time.

This particular Halloween was cold. And I don't mean "chilly", I mean freezing temperatures. From those up north, this is what you would probably call "September." But for us Tennesseeans, we don't take kindly to freezing temperatures without proper warning. The grocery stores were packed, people forgot how to drive, the whole bit.

And me? I was stuck in the back of my sister's boyfriend's pickup truck. Freezing my ever-loving ass off.

"How soon?" I would yell into the little sliding window behind the seat.

"Soon," they would tell me, complain about me opening the window, and then slam it shut. I shivered silently.

There was another friend of ours there, but I would be lying if I said I knew who it was. But it doesn't matter. As we roamed the streets of Morristown, TN, we aimed to misbehave.

The first few stops were mundane--some asshole Rhonda's boyfriend David knew, followed by a few runs through the big piles of leaves on the side of the road. However, we had to use caution--around this time, people were so pissed that drivers were plowing through their piles of leaves that they began to hide cinder blocks in the piles. Assholes.

So with that fun scared off, we decided to hit one last house: A girl from high school who was at odds with my sister.

Now, let me get this out of the way: My sister is one bad mofo. And by that I mean basically the opposite of myself. I have the blessing of being both large and docile, meaning I'm imposing only for the sake of imposement (or something). But my sister? That girl can strike fear into the hearts of others.

True story: One day a Senior gave me a hard time at the arcade. The next day at school he came up to me, a Freshman, and apologized. Baffled, I accepted it, and only later found out that Rhonda had 'talked to him' about it.

So you realize that when Rhonda doesn't like somebody, they must be pretty bad. So we had stocked up--we had eggs, we had rolls upon rolls of cheap toilet paper.

We did not, however, have time or stealth on our side. It was around midnight, on a backroad in the middle of nowhere, trying to egg and roll what amounted to a farmhouse.

We creep out of the truck after passing the house. A little less than a quarter mile stroll, we begin. The rolls are thrown and we try not to giggle too loudly. The eggs we were saving for the coup de grace, the finishing touches on this retaliating act.

Just as I tossed yet another $.49 sandpaper Dollar Store special into the air, the front door opened.

"Evan let's go let's go!" I heard from behind me.

It was then I saw the man lumbering out of the house held in his other hand a shotgun. Holy shit!

I ran like I've never ran before, hearing the man behind me yelling about the stupid kids in his yard.

Being as I was the biggest of the lot, I was the slowest. The rest were in the truck already. I still had a hundred feet to go.

Running, running...

"Oh my God, he's got a gun!" This reiteration got me scared all over again. My jeans were falling off my ass and my asthma was in full tilt as I leapt onto the bed of the truck, held onto something, and watched as gravels and dust flew behind the pickup as we sped away.

I could see the old man in the front yard, his boomstick in his hand, twisting and turning, surveying the damage. I don't think he was going to kill anybody, let alone stupid teenagers, but I'll be damned if I was going to test that theory.

Later that night we finally made it home, me suffering through near hypothermia and my sister ecstatic about how we got whats-her-name's house.

"Well, yeah, that and the gun," I said.

"You were scared?"

"Nah," I lied. "I'd do it again."

That was a lie too. But I can't deny the fun that was had, as dangerous as it may have been.

Happy Halloween, everybody.

Well I've seen them buried in a sheltered place in this town
They tell you that this rain can sting, and look down