Eye Candy

Reggie sighs and finally pulls his face away from the window.

“Fine. We’ll go home for now, but this isn’t over,” Reggie complains as we sneak back through the obstacle course of the front yard, dodging pumpkins and other decorations as we go. “These people have declared war. If a war is what they want, a war is what they’ll get. Everyone on this street loves me and my Halloween decorations. I’m not going to let some serial killers ruin my life’s work.”

“You mean everyone but Susan, who called Bev today and told her that her son had a clown nightmare last night,” I remind him.

Noel called me at work right after Bev called her to tell her about Susan, because Noel likes to bring me down to her level of misery whenever she has to deal with either one of her parents.

“I can’t help it if her son is a sissy. He’ll have a lot more to cry about when he finds out he’s living down the street from people who will kidnap him and cut off his fingers.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter as we cross the street and make our way up to the porch. “Never, ever say that out loud again. I don’t have enough money saved for your bail or to hire a reputable defense attorney.”

As soon as we walk in the front door, Noel comes into the front hallway from the living room, stopping in her tracks when she sees her father and me.

“Do I even want to ask?”

I shake my head. “Definitely not.”

“You married a dipshit, Noel. He wouldn’t even let me carry a rifle,” Reggie complains.

“Noel, we need more Snickers for the—”

Bev joins us in the hall and stops next to my wife, her words cutting off as soon as she looks up.

“It’s not what it looks like,” I tell her.

I have no idea why I said that. It’s exactly what it looks like. It looks like we just put on tactical gear and face paint and went creeping through the neighbor’s yard.

“Oh, Sam, you don’t have to be embarrassed. It’s about time Reggie told you how he likes to dress up as G.I. Joe when we role play.” She smiles at me before turning toward her husband. “Honey, did you tell him about how you make me pretend to be your commanding officer and I get to yell at you and give you orders?”

Reggie groans, Noel grimaces, and I try my hardest not to run screaming back out the front door.

“He likes it when I make him bark,” Bev whispers conspiratorially, giving me a wink.

“Jesus, Beverly! Is nothing sacred in this house?” Reggie complains.

Just then, the front door opens behind us, and we all turn to see Aunt Bobbie stumble in with an ungodly amount of makeup smudged all over her face and wiped off in random places on the sparkly black dress she’s wearing. It’s only eight o’clock and she already looks like she’s been on an all-night bender.

“Bobbie, what in the world happened to you?” Bev asks, rushing to her side to help her stand.

“It was a rough night at Drag Queen Bingo. I don’t remember much about what happened after the fifteenth round,” she tells us.

“The fifteenth round of bingo or of drinks?” Noel questions.

“Bacon!” Aunt Bobbie answers.

“Reggie, go make Bobbie some coffee. Sweetie, are you going to feel up to helping with the treat bags tonight?” Bev asks her softly.

“PHTEVEN!” Aunt Bobbie shouts as Bev wraps her arm around her waist and helps her walk down the hall and into the living room, moving around the shit-tons of Kit Kats, Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups, Twix bars, Heath bars, bubble gum, and Blow Pops. She deposits Aunt Bobbie onto the couch.

“What’s a phteven? Aunt Bobbie, are you having a brain aneurism? Do you need medical attention?” Bev asks, bending down to stare into Aunt Bobbie’s glassy, unfocused eyes.

“It’s Steven with a PH! BACON!” Aunt Bobbie shouts.

“Sweet Jesus, she looks like a clown that just woke up after a gang bang,” Scheva states, looking up from her spot on the floor, where she’s already started assembling bags.

“In local news tonight, there have been several recent sightings of an individual dressed up as a clown, wandering neighborhoods and frightening people. The police have yet to ascertain if this person is just having some good old Halloween fun or is a genuine threat to the community. Please stay vigilant, and if you see anyone dressed up as a clown, call the local police. Back to you, Richard.”

We’re all staring at the television in the corner of the room with our mouths wide open when Reggie walks in with a steaming mug of coffee in his hand.

“See, Dad? I told you clowns were evil!” Noel reminds him.

“Are you talking about that stupid news report they’ve been running all night? Poppycock. Bunch of horseshit, if you ask me. People getting scared over clowns . . . Clowns bring joy and laughter into people’s lives. What is this world coming to when people are afraid of something like that? It’s going to hell in a handbasket, that’s what’s happening,” Reggie complains.

He hands Aunt Bobbie the coffee, pushing it up to her mouth and forcing her to drink it as the rest of us stare out the front window, wondering how the hell we’ll be able to tell a real killer clown from the clowns all over the damn front yard.





Chapter 7: Smell These Pills


Noel

I’m setting a small, carved pumpkin in the middle of a table when a Braxton Hicks contraction hits me. I grab my stomach and focus on my breathing.

“You okay?”

I nod at Scheva as she walks over, taking a few deep breaths until the tightness in my belly finally goes away.

“I’m fine. Just getting these stupid things more and more lately,” I tell her, glancing around the yard and changing the subject. “This place looks amazing. We did a pretty awesome job.”

Scheva smiles in agreement as we take in the transformation of my parents’ backyard. Since Scheva’s parents suck and couldn’t be bothered to come home from their vacation in Barbados for the wedding, naturally my parents immediately agreed to have the wedding here. Scheva and Alex rented the same giant white tent that Sam and I used for our wedding. Underneath it is a bunch of round tables with dark brown tablecloths. In the center of each tablecloth is a cluster of fake leaves in every fall color, and nestled on those are jack-o’-lanterns containing candles we’ll light right before the guests arrive, in two days. We decided to set everything up today, instead of tomorrow, so we won’t be exhausted rushing around the day before the wedding, scrambling to get everything ready.

My dad, Alex, and Sam strung orange lights all around the ceiling of the tent, and bows made from orange and brown plaid fabric are tied around the backs of all the chairs. My mom and Aunt Bobbie are currently sticking black wrought-iron stakes into the ground all around the outer edge of the tent. The stakes are topped with small orange-glass pumpkins, which will also hold lit candles.