Chapter Text
Like a bag of Halloween candy tossed through the transom, this idea came to me a few days before the great festival of pumpkins and too much sugar. And so, I wrote it for you all, with hopes that it’s a treat you enjoy.
This little tale isn’t related to any other stories I’ve written. As always, the Stephanie Plum characters aren’t mine, all trademarks belong to their respective owners, and I make no profit. This story, though, is all mine. Because this was written super-fast before the holiday, it’s not beta’ed so please excuse any errors.
Chapter 1: Halloween in the ’Burg
Stephanie had always felt that living in Chambersburg was like being inside a year-long Advent calendar where you could peel back the door covering any date to find a festival or holiday with its own treats and pleasures. There were school holidays, saints’ days and feasts, the annual Apple Fest, and historic reenactment days. There were the special days like Veteran’s Day, Memorial Day, and Columbus Day that pulled in the network of veterans and social clubs. There were birthdays; so many birthdays. And, of course there were the usual holidays for which you would buy greeting cards, like Easter, Mother’s and Father’s Days, and Valentine’s Day.
But, best of all in Stephanie’s opinion, that busy calendar was anchored by the four big holidays that bring out the children in everyone: Christmas, New Year, Fourth of July, and Halloween. Specific days for gift-giving, the Macy’s parade, fireworks, and costumes... what could be better?
As far as Halloween was concerned, her Grandma Mazur had always set the standard in a way that practically spelled Halloween in letters made from candy corn and wax vampire teeth. This year was no exception.
Stephanie and her mother had set the LED-lit jack-o-lanterns outside, one per step up to the porch. At the top, the actual carved pumpkins had pride of place, but they didn’t get candles inside anymore; at least not since the great Smoking Pumpkin Fire Fiasco when Stephanie and her sister Valerie had been in middle school.
The left side of the porch had become a webby trap last weekend after Val’s daughters, Angie and Mary Alice, had used the spider-web shooter from the Halloween pop-up store. Her father had been grumpy at that new addition, sensing that it might be as problematic to clean up as last year’s strewn hay and accidental Rice-Krispy treat mash-up. Stephanie figured he just didn’t like change, but surely appreciated how spook-tacular it was at night when the webbing was illuminated by the porch light.
Beyond that, it was the perfect complement to the battery-operated spider with shiny red eyes that bounced up and down along its own plastic web on the other side of the porch. That had been a Halloween fixture since her childhood. Basically, it was a family heirloom.
The cassette tape of ghostly, haunted house sounds was cued, with the added bonus that years of playing the tape had imparted an extra warble that made it sound even more spooky. Last but not least, all the tables and sideboards from kitchen to front door were covered with bowls of candy and wrapped cookies for all the good little costumed trick-or-treaters. And there were enough for the adults with them, if they were bold enough to ask. Which, since this was the ’Burg, they almost always were.
And, speaking of costumes, they weren’t truly mandatory in the Plum family, as her father had never worn one. Nor did they have to be elaborate, as her mother’s Little Red Riding Hood cape for the past ten years had sufficed. But, if you were in a mood to let your inner imagination free, Halloween was the perfect time.
Grandma Mazur, whose inner imagination ran free more often than most, had brought back her classic Ghostbusters costume. It consisted of white painter’s coveralls with a Ghostbuster’s sticker on it, with an old vacuum’s crevice tool and hose that was wired to her belt and led back to one of Val’s high school backpacks. She and her grandma had stuffed the pack with a pillow and given it a gear-laden look by supergluing a bunch of stuff to it, including a couple of painted soda bottles, an old oven thermometer, and a computer fan. To Helen Plum’s relief, she seemed to have abandoned the idea that a Super Soaker would perfectly complete her outfit, although Stephanie had spotted her mom checking for contraband items on the porch a few times already. Just in case.
Since Grandma Mazur had set the standard by wearing a retro outfit, Stephanie had decided to dust off her Wonder Woman outfit. It was the one she’d actually purchased a few years ago when she’d been flush with extra cash and riveted by the outfit in the store window. It had a red bustier with gold piping, star-spangled blue tap pants, arm bands, a gold band that could be worn on the forehead although she used it to hold her hair back, and a set of snap-on gold bracelets of power. Seriously, if you’re going to dress as Wonder Woman, you have to go all the way with the concept.
At least, that was what she’d told herself while she’d been standing in line to buy the costume. And what she’d repeated to herself when she’d bought the gold-tinted, knee-high costume boots to go with it. They gave her blisters every time she wore them, but it was totally worth it.
Her costume choice meant that, for the first time in a few years, she didn’t coordinate with her grandma. She’d figured that the kids stopping by for candy wouldn’t mind. After all, kids almost never coordinated group outfits for Halloween, except for the Zewalter family who’d all dressed as Power Rangers for a few years, even the parents.
They were all set and ready to go. They’d even fielded their first toddler trick-or-treaters brought by their parents in the late afternoon. Which meant that, in Plum family fashion, their plans had been upended shortly before the true trick-or-treat starting pistol was fired.
“My snooky-ookums-snuggle-bear has tummy cramps and can’t take care of Lisa by himself,” Val announced from the front door. People who didn’t know her would assume she was referring to baby Lisa in her arms. Of course, she was actually referring to her husband, Albert. “And our babysitter is unavailable,” she continued, unphased by either her family’s blinking stares or by Albert panting quietly at her side.
“Albert needs a babysitter?” Mr. Plum’s disembodied voice queried from the dining room.
“No, Daddy.” Val rolled her eyes. “But Lisa does. She’s a baby. So, I’m thinking that they can stay here while I take the girls out to trick-or-treat around the neighborhood." While she spoke, she’d moved into the living room with the rest of her family. Albert immediately found a chair and sat down. Angie and Mary Alice, in contrast, darted toward the kitchen where they knew that their grandmother would have the most recently baked and warm cookies.
Meanwhile their grandmother, Helen Plum in her Little Red Riding Hood cape, had taken Lisa from Val’s hands. “Of course, honey. You go and have fun.”
As she spoke, Val’s girls returned, hopping and skipping, from the kitchen. The cookie raid had apparently been successful. If there had been any doubt, Mary Alice still had a chocolate smudge in the corner of her mouth. Those girls were Plums, through and through.
“Aunt Steph, you should come with us!” Angie said, eyes wide.
“Yeah, come with, come with!” Mary Alice added to the chorus. “You’re already dressed up and everything.” She squirmed while Val leaned down with a moist wipe to clean her daughter’s lips.
“Unlike your mother, for example,” Val teased her daughter after glancing at her mom-jeans and sweater. With a quick, solicitous peek at her husband, she added, “A few things came up while I was getting ready tonight, so my costume will have to wait until next year. Anyhow, what really matters is that you and your sister are all dressed and ready to go trick-or-treating.” She bopped her daughter lightly on the nose.
At that moment, the doorbell rang. Grandma Mazur snagged a candy bowl and headed to the door, practically hop-skipping herself. Stephanie stepped over to help, but the old woman waved her back. “Go with the girls. The rest of us can hold down the candy fort until you get back.”
As the door swung open, she added over her shoulder, “Besides, you know you want to find out what the Bernsteins and the Zlotskys give out this year. It’s competitive intelligence, you know. Also, you have to tell me whether the inflatable ghost in the Nikitins’ yard ‘got it back up’.” She waggled her brows while using her free hand to indicate how she might encourage the ghost’s phallic shape-up.
“Mother!” Helen Plum hissed.
“Don’t worry Mom,” Stephanie brushed up against her. “Sometimes an inflatable ghost is just an inflatable ghost.”
“Only in this family is that a reassuring comment,” Val straightened before turning to check on Albert.
After a few murmurs back and forth, Albert spoke loud enough that everyone heard him say, “No, no. I’m fine. I’m great. You go without me. I’m fine.”
Seeing Stephanie’s and her mother’s eyes on her, she shrugged. “My honey-bunny has been binge watching the Friends ‘best of Ross’ marathon on cable. Last night was the one where Ross tells everyone he’s ‘fine’ every two or three minutes.”
“Hmm, okay,” Mrs. Plum replied while shifting her bundled granddaughter in her arms. Gazing at the infant, she said, “I guess your daddy’s fine, then.”
--ooOOoo--
Not long after that, Stephanie found herself walking around the ’Burg, trick-or-treating with Val and her girls. To her surprise, it was more fun than she’d imagined. In part, it was like a replay of a childhood memory. There were still so many neighbors who’d known them as children and who obviously enjoyed seeing the next generation in Val’s daughters.
Also, possibly the evening’s fun was enhanced by the Milky Way bars given out at the Bernstein house and the M&M bags by the Zlotskys, which of course Stephanie had sampled as part of the intelligence gathering that Grandma Mazur had mentioned before they’d left. Besides, everyone was a child on Halloween and got to dip into the candy.
Angie and Mary Alice already had hefty stashes of candy in their trick-or-treat bags, so their sugar quotient for the evening would easily be met. Of course, this being the ’Burg, there were a few oddball neighbors who gave out less awesome treats, and they’d already encountered a couple of them.
For example, they’d just left Mr. Beal, who gave each child a dime as he expounded from his front step that he was teaching boys and girls the value of money versus short-term pleasures like candy. When Angie had squinched up her nose in indignant confusion, Val had hustled her daughters back to the sidewalk while explaining that he’d always done that. It was like a running joke among kids in the neighborhood.
Seeing that Angie still didn’t look convinced, Stephanie pointed out that when she and Angie’s mom were children, each trick-or-treater only got a nickel. Seeing a cagy look come over Angie’s face, she’d added that Mr. Beal somehow knew when kids came by a second time even if they’d changed their costumes between visits. He gave those kids balls of lint from his dryer instead of a coin, telling them that greed always backfired.
Which Stephanie knew “just because.”
“He saved dryer lint all year for Halloween?” Angie looked at her mom and aunt like they’d suddenly turned into Muppets or Fraggle Rock characters right there on the sidewalk.
“Probably.” Stephanie shrugged. “Trust me, it’s not the goofiest thing around here.”
While Angie sputtered, Mary Alice happily galloped and whinnied ahead to the next house. Her Goodwill shoe cleats made metallic clopping sounds on the sidewalk and her trick-or-treat bag flapped beside her. Wearing all brown with a repurposed cat-ear headband, she’d salvaged the tan-colored ruff from an old winter coat to create a mane, affixing it to the headband at the top and pinning to her sweater at various points down her back. And, Valerie had already confessed that she’d surrendered one of her old blonde-ish hair extensions to make her daughter’s horse tail.
Despite all that, though, the cleat-hooves were truly the inspired touch that took Mary Alice from “girl who might be a cat” to “girl who was a horse.” Well, that plus the whinnying. She’d been an instant hit at each house they’d visited, earning praise and extra candy.
“It’s not fair.” Angie muttered from between Val and Stephanie. “She didn’t even have to work at it. Everyone already knows she’s a horse.”
Stephanie peeked at her niece. She wasn’t sure if it would help or be even worse to point out that Val’s brood had only lived in the Plum family home in the ’Burg for a few months after relocating from California. As a result, most of the busybodies here in the ‘Burg probably hadn’t yet known that Mary Alice was a horse. At least, not until tonight.
From Angie’s other side, Val soothed her eldest daughter. “Sweetie, your sister’s costume is perfect for her. Just like your Elsa costume is perfect for you. Just like Elsa in Frozen, you’re serious and kind and loyal. You have a younger sister who’s a bit more outgoing but you protect her. And you’re smart as they come.”
“What she said,” Stephanie concurred. “And besides, you’re totally rocking the Elsa look. We even managed to get your braid to sit on one side, just like in the movie.” Given how short Angie’s blonde braid was, that had taken a bit of work. Angie had deemed it well worth the effort, since it made her look more like the character. In Stephanie’s opinion, the effort had been even more worthwhile as her niece’s initiation into the miracle of hairspray. It was the Jersey girl’s remedy for almost every problem that arose outside of the kitchen.
Despite her mom’s and aunt’s encouragement, Angie wasn’t convinced. Snorting, she said, “The old ladies all think I’m Tinkerbell or Snow White. Except for Mrs. O’Malley, who thought I’d spilled grape juice on the hem of my confirmation dress. She made her husband go inside to get Shout wipes to put in my bag.” Angie kicked a rock off the sidewalk. “But they all know M.A. is a horse,” she repeated, using the family abbreviation for her sister’s name.
Her mother, always the practically-perfect voice of reason, said, “Honey, they know you’re a princess but they just don’t know which one. I bet if Mary Alice was trying to be a specific horse, like one of those Derby winners, they’d never guess which horse she was.”
“Hmm, maybe,” her blonde, princess daughter muttered, not yet willing to concede her point.
“Think of it this way: at least Mrs. O’Malley didn’t throw cough drops at you from the transom like Mrs. Snyder,” Stephanie snorted.
“Right?” Val agreed. “She was an old biddy when we were kids. I can’t believe she’s still alive, let alone still pelting the neighborhood children and their parents with cold medicine.”
Stephanie snorted. “No kidding. Do you remember the Halloween when she beaned Mom with a travel-sized bottle of mouthwash?”
“Are you serious?” Angie darted her eyes between her mother and aunt. Seeing the girl’s expression wavering somewhere between curiosity and disgust, Stephanie finally couldn’t control her laughter anymore.
“Totally serious,” Val said, trying and then failing to keep a straight face.
“That was the year after she gave out the little promotional band-aid packs she got cheap because they had typos in Dr. Hart’s name,” Stephanie started giggling again.
Then, at the same time, they both shouted, “The Dr. Ariel Fart Clinic!” Then, glancing at each other, they both dissolved into howling laughter.
Between them, Angie rolled her eyes. “Adults are so weird.” She picked up her pace to follow her sister to the next neighbor’s door. “I’m still a kid, so at least I still have an excuse.”
“Your mom and I are just little kids who grew up,” Stephanie called after her niece while rubbing away the moisture left by her laugh tears. Waterproof mascara was a modern miracle.
Val shook her head. “That is a sobering thought.” Then she snorted. “Speaking of sobering thoughts, it’s a shame that Mr. Romano isn’t with us, anymore. If he really liked your costume, he’d give you one of those one-shot bottles of booze.”
“I know. The Blatts, who live in that house now, were the ones who gave out those chocolate-dipped strawberries decorated like little jack-o-lanterns. They were amazing, but nothing could compete with a mini bottle of schnapps or two.”
“When I think about it, I’m amazed that we survived our childhoods,” Val muttered as they caught up with her girls.
“I see you’re Wonder Woman again,” Mrs. Wisniewski said from the porch, holding out a Snickers bar toward Stephanie. The old woman looked the same as she had when they were children, except now her bouffant hairdo was blue-gray instead of brown. Then she peered at Val. “And what are you dressed as, dear?”
Valerie looked down at her sneakers, jeans and sweater. Then she peeked sideways at her sister through strands of her shoulder-length, blonde hair. “I’m dressed as a bounty hunter,” she said with an imp’s wide grin. As Stephanie rolled her eyes, Mrs. Wisniewski leaned forward to give Val her own candy bar. Being a mom, Valerie gestured at Angie to hold out her bag again. “Elsa here is working for me tonight, so you can give her my candy.”
“Oh, I didn’t know you had a daughter named Elsa. Such a lovely Cinderella costume, dear.” Mrs. Wisniewski smiled with delight. Turning to Mary Alice, she said, “And you, young lady, must be her trusty horse.”
Stephanie could practically see the steam coming out of Angie’s ears as Val stiffly hustled her blonde daughter back to the sidewalk with a quick “thanks” over her shoulder.
“Thanks, Mrs. Wiśniewski. See you around,” Stephanie smiled her Miss America smile at the beaming older lady. Turning to the sidewalk, she slid her candy bar into Mary Alice’s bag, with a wink.
“Don’t you want that candy bar, Aunt Steph?” her niece murmured as she clip-clopped alongside Stephanie.
“I’ll be fine. There’ll be enough left-over candy and cookies at your grandma’s house that we could have nothing but dessert for dinner for a week.”
“Grandma Plum would never allow that,” Mary Alice stated. At the same time, her eyes were wide as though she were secretly asking whether it could possibly be true. And if so, could she please come to dinner every night for the next week.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Mom is deeply into the meat-and-potatoes, square meal dinner concept. But we gals can dream, huh?” Stephanie softly elbowed her horsey companion, eliciting a giggle.
By that point, they’d caught up with Val and Angie. There was one more house on the block, so Mary Alice snared her sister’s arm and pulled her in that direction. Off they went, one girl skipping and the other stomping, leaving the adult Plum daughters to trail after.
“I think it’s time to head back home after this,” Val half-whispered. “We’re just this close to Angie blowing like Mount Saint Helens over people not guessing her costume right.” She held her thumb and forefingers about a quarter inch apart.
As though the ’Burg itself was dramatizing Angie’s imminent explosion, a siren sounded a few blocks away. To Stephanie’s practiced ear, it was an ambulance, not a cop car or fire truck, so there was no need to mobilize.
She nodded in agreement with her sister. “Going home is fine with me. I now remember that these particular boots were not made for walking.” Stephanie pointed to her knee-high, gold Wonder Woman boots. “Go figure.”
Valerie snickered and then stopped, looking ahead. “Holy wow,” she said, obviously stunned.
Stephanie followed her gaze. They had now gotten close enough to the end of the block that they could see the other side of the cross street through the thick shrubs lining the sidewalk. More specifically, they could see the house across the street, which was a small one story, brick building tucked back on the lot. But one hardly noticed the house at all since the yard was full of Halloween decorations and inflatables. They had found the Nikitins’ yard.
“Wow,” Val repeated, “Grandma was right. The Nikitins’ inflatable ghost really does kinda look like a man’s thingie. And, oh my goodness, why do they have those two little round ghosts at its base? That has to have been on purpose.”
“Um.” Stephanie replied, waiting for her brain to catch up with the startlingly pale, eight foot tall and turgid ornament that was proudly attended by what her grandma would call its doo-dahs. “I guess sometimes an inflatable ghost actually isn’t just an inflatable ghost, after all.”
“Okay, we’re definitely going home after this. I’ve reached my Halloween limit, too.”
“Fair enough,” Stephanie said as they stepped up the porch stairs behind Val’s daughters. “Oh, this is where the Simko family lives now,” she murmured after seeing their name above the doorbell. She filed that away for next week, when Teddy Simko’s court appearance was scheduled according to Vinnie’s new “Bonds Coming Due” calendar on the wall by his office. If Teddy decided to skip his court hearing and slip his bail, this would be her first stop.
Meanwhile, the door opened and a mousy, middle-aged woman began to step out. Her eyes darted from the girls on her stoop to the adults behind them. “Oh fuhh… fudge brownies! It’s that bounty hunter.” Stephanie and Val looked at each other, then both nodded and said, “Yup,” in tandem.
After a stunned moment, Mrs. Simko darted backward and slammed the door. Through the mail slot in the door, they could hear her saying, “My nephew isn’t here. He’s never here. I barely even know him.” Her door-muffled voice kept rising as she spoke. “Besides, I just got out of the shower.”
Stephanie attempted to smooth things over. “We’re just here to trick-or-treat, Mrs. Simko.”
The door opened briefly as handfuls of Hershey’s miniature candy bars were pelted through the narrow opening in a haphazard arc. Then, the door slammed shut. From behind the mail slot they heard, “Trick or treat. Now go away.”
“Uhh, yeah. Okay.” Angie picked a mini-Hershey’s Special Dark bar from the sash of her dress. Then, blinking, she turned to look at her aunt at the same time as her sister and mother.
Stephanie shrugged. “Her nephew isn’t really a skip, yet. She’s just practicing ahead of time. People do that.”
“Well, either way, this is our last house tonight, girls.” Val briskly corralled her daughters away from the weaponized mini-Hershey’s and led them down the stairs back to the sidewalk. “Let’s get back and see all that you girls got.”
They had circled the neighborhood and it turned out that they weren’t far from the Plum’s house. In fact, after only a block, it was in sight. And, uh oh, that’s where the ambulance was parked. As one, the trick-or-treating party raced down the sidewalk until they spotted Stephanie’s parents and Grandma Mazur clustered on the porch. Two white-smocked ambulance EMTs were securing Albert to a stretcher.
“Honey bunny,” Val shouted as she ran forward, shouldering aside a small knot of rubbernecking trick-or-treaters out of her way. “What happened? You were fine when we left,” she wailed, having reached the stretcher. She grabbed for Albert’s near hand.
“I think maybe I wasn’t really fine, after all,” he replied with a bit of a warble in his voice.
Stephanie put an arm around each of her nieces’ shoulders as they hastened to the scene. She breathed a sigh of relief, having gotten close enough to recognize the EMTs as Carl Browning and Mal Stoltz. They were a good crew.
On the porch, Mrs. Plum was wringing her hands. “We were just about to call you. Albert was helping your grandma get another bowl of candy and then just fell to his knees. It might be appendicitis.”
“Or kidney stones,” Grandma Mazur added from where she was highlighted in front of Angie and Mary Alice’s tangly spider webbing. “They’re taking him to the St. Francis emergency room to get checked.” She pointed at the ambulance, where they were now lifting Albert’s stretcher into the vehicle.
“You’re the wife?” Carl the EMTs asked Valerie. At her nod, he offered his hand. “You can come with us. Anyone else who needs to come along has to drive themselves and join you there.”
Val turned to the rest of her family. “Okay, um….” She blinked. “Where’s Lisa?”
“She’s asleep in the portable crib up in your old room,” Mrs. Plum answered. “Snug as a bug.”
“You’ll stay here with her?”
Seeing Carl starting to get impatient, Stephanie stepped forward. “Don’t worry about anything. We’ll sort it out and then I’ll meet you there. You just go with Albert for now.”
“Okay,” her sister nodded, unusually meek. She let Carl the EMT help her climb into the ambulance. “Snooky-ookums” she called out before the white-garbed man closed the door on her. Carl nodded briskly to the family, reminded them that they were going to St. Francis, and then hopped into the front seat. With that, the ambulance pulled away from the curb and sped down the street toward the hospital.
To be continued...