She loved the 31st
of October, always had since she was a child and now she had children of her
own. Her little Sue had decided that she was going to dress as a clown as far
back as July and hadn’t changed her mind.
Her favourite game was
‘ducking for apples’; hands behind your back and trying to catch an apple,
which was happily bobbing on the water, with your teeth.
When she was younger she
loved to go around all the houses and sing her song; It was the same one she
sang every year from when she was five years old until, she was sixteen. Then
she discovered boys and Halloween lost its attraction until she had her own
family.
Now it was just as much fun
having the kids come to her door and she insisting on them providing a trick.
Many of the kids hadn’t prepared anything as they were always given treats, but
she would push them into providing a song, or a joke.
It had been a great night
and she’d accompanied her kids around a few friends, then they’d got back home
to see a few reluctant kids singing. It
was as she was packing up that the door knocked.
“Who can that be at this
time” She whispered to herself as the rest of the family had taken themselves
off to bed.
She opened the front door
with some treats in her hand to get rid of whomever it was, quickly. There,
standing in front of her was a little boy in a false-face and a wooden stick.
“Please, may I come
in?”
She thought about it, then
said, “Oh go on then, but be quiet.”
The little boy walked into
the middle of the room and stood there.
“What would you like to do? You see I always want a show from my little fellows.”
“I want to sing a song, if
that’s okay?”
She told him it would be
okay as long as he was quiet. What harm could it do? A little show to herself
was a treat for her.
He sang the most beautiful
song about a nightingale, it was so heartbreaking that a tear ran down her
face. When she had finished she asked what treats he would like and he asked
her for a hug.
“You can have treats as
well.”
But he only wanted the hug
and then he left.
She forgot all about the
little boy until one day, a few weeks later, she was standing at the bus stop talking to her
friend, Annie.
Her friend pointed out Mrs
Scalder who was walking down the other side of the road. Annie asked if she knew the family but she
said that she didn’t.
“So sad,” said Annie, her little boy got knocked down and
killed on Halloween a few years ago. He was such a lovely little one. Always
sang a song about a nightingale.
“Did he ever sing for you?”
Asked Annie.
bobby stevenson 2013
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