"Cool," Louis said. "You know, Chapters, sometimes I think my mother likes you better than she does me."

"Really?" I said, and slid my heavy history book into my lap.

---

 

2. Halloween Wrapped Up In A Secret
 

"Macy would know that he's our son, right?" Dad asked.

"Of course," Mom said. "She's one of my best friends. I couldn't just pop up with a daughter out of nowhere."

I puzzled over this a bit, then asked, "So I'm going trick-or-treating with a ten-year-old girl?"

Mom's smile spread over her face, and Dad guffawed.

"Face it, Victor," he chuckled. "It would make your disguise perfect! One of your friends could look you right in the face and never know it was you."

I felt pretty uncomfortable. What Dad said was true, but... "It's just that the idea of spending the evening with a little girl doesn't exactly thrill me."

"You don't have to be friends with her, and I don't think you'll have much chance for conversation, even if you wanted to," Mom replied. "All you're going to do is walk from house to house and say trick or treat."

"Mmm," I muttered. "I guess that'll be okay."

My father laughed again. "What a hoot!" he cried. "I'm sorry kiddo, but it's such a riot!" I didn't respond, so he went on. "Oh, I wanted to ask! You didn't say: What name are you going to use?"

Again I didn't answer. He laughed to himself and suggested, "How about Gertrude?"

Mom stiffened. "That's my mother's name."

"Oh, sorry. Sorry, I forgot! Ah, well, there's Ermintrude. Do you like that name?"

"That's not even a real name!" I retorted.

"Sure it is," he said. "Just ask any girl named Ermintrude. Or Hortense. Hortense is a nice name, isn't it?" He stroked his chin, then went through a list of the most improbable, ridiculous names I'd ever heard. "Wilhelmina? Theodosia?" Naturally he didn't expect me to use any of them... it was just a long, elaborate tease. It put me in mind of Rumpelstiltskin.

I saw that Mom had tuned him out, but after a while it got so irritating that she finally cut in.

"How about Victoria?" Dad asked, drawing the name out. "It's the most obvious choice, I'm surprised I didn't think of it first!"

Mom let out an irritated huff. She clearly had had quite enough of Dad's name game.

"How about Juliette?" she said with some finality, and I — just to end the foolishness — agreed. I'd always liked that name anyway. I could be "Juliette" for a couple of hours.

Dad got the message and didn't go on.

---

Mom called her friend after dinner and stayed on the phone for an hour.

She came into the living room when she was done. I was reading my history homework; Dad was deep into Zane Grey.

"It's settled," she announced. "On Monday evening, Macy will pick up Victor at our hotel and drop him off there afterward. No one will see you with us," she assured me.

"Good," Dad commented. "Is there more?"

"Yes. I'm going to make an outfit for her daughter, too. She hasn't had time to look for anything, and I'm really on a tear. It'll be fun."

"Just don't tear the costumes," Dad punned.

"Ha, ha," Mom said.

"Um," I began, "and the girl?"

"What about her?"

"Will she know who I am? Or will she she think, ah–"

"Macy thought it would be best if she thought you were a girl too. Otherwise she could get all confused or even give you away. It could be weird for her if she knew, don't you think?"

"Yeah, I guess," I shrugged.

"Yes, it would," Mom concluded for me. "So you've got to be on your best behavior, and let her think you're just like her. Okay?"

"How do I do that?" I asked.

"Just do what she does," Mom said simply. "Follow her lead. Hmm..." she tapped her chin. "Probably Macy will have some ideas, but I wouldn't worry about it. You'll both be so busy with what you're doing, I don't think she'll even have a clear picture of what you looked like after."

"Great!" I said, and returned to my history book.

---

At school, everyone continued to talk about Halloween, but always with scorn.

I kept my mouth shut, or nodded as if I agreed.

---

"So what are these other events?" I asked my mother.

"Huh?"

"The Halloween things on Saturday and Sunday?"

"Oh, are you worried that someone might see you?"

I grinned ruefully. "That too, but mostly I wanted to know what they were."

"I can show you the websites later," she said, "and then you'll know as much as I do. On Saturday, there's a costume party–"

"Will you be there?"

"No, actually, I can't be. It's for children only, from ages 12 and under at um, at a modern art museum..."

I looked at her doubtfully. This business of pretending to be ten was starting to look pretty bad.

"No, no, it's really cool," she assured me. "Wait till you see the website. *I* would like to go myself, but it's only for kids."

I sighed. It sounded asinine, but I didn't say anything.

"Oh, I know that face," she said. "Come with me now. I don't want you moping over this."

She brought me to the computer and she was right: it did look cool. The museum was very modern. It looked like it was made for fun. There was a description of the activities, and the more I read, the more I wanted to do it.

"And Sunday?" I asked.

"Sunday, in one of the Boston neighborhoods... let's see, the South End, they're going to have Halloween parties in two of the parks, with lots of food and candy. It'll be like trick-or-treating before the fact."

That sounded like it could be okay.

"If that doesn't work, there's a mall near one of the parks, and the stores in the mall are having trick-or-treating as well. If you really have the energy, we could do all three, but if any one or two are bad, at least one of them must be good."

That sounded fine as well.

The web also had pictures of last year's Halloween on Beacon Hill, and that definitely looked worth doing.

I began to think that I wouldn't mind being ten years old. At least for those three days.

---

That night at dinner, Mom said to me, "Tomorrow after school, Macy is bringing Miranda here to talk about costumes. Do you think you could make yourself scarce until they're gone?"

"Yeah, I guess," I said. "I could probably go to Louis' house."

She nodded. "Can you stay there until I call and say that the coast is clear?"

"They aren't staying for supper, are they?"

"No, they won't. Miranda has some other thing to go to, so they can't stay long. I just don't want you two running into each other. Okay?"

I called Louis, who said, "Sure, Chapters. Any time. My mother would love to see you."

I laughed, and countered, "What about you, Louis? Will you love to see me, too?"

"In your dreams," he replied.

---

Louis was joking about his mother being glad to see me — he knew I had a huge crush on her. Plus, she always was particularly nice to me.

Lou and I were busy with a video game when his mother called me to the phone.

"It's your mother," she told me. "She wants to talk to her 'progeny'." She rolled her eyes.

"Hi, Mom," I said.

"Hi, Juliette," she said. "How are you doing?"

"Oh, is Mrs. Jameson there?"

"Right and right," she said. "I'm glad to hear it. Listen, honey: it turns out that you and Miranda are the same size exactly. Isn't that amazing?"

"I'm overjoyed," I replied.

"Yes, I thought so," she said. "Would you mind if she used one of your costumes for Halloween? Could you get by with only two?"

I hesitated. It was a strange moment. I wanted to say, Sure, let her take whichever one she wants, but I couldn't make myself say it.

"Juliette?"

"Ah, sorry, Mom. I was thinking."

"And?"

"Do I really have to give one up?" I asked, feeling abjectly foolish. "Couldn't I wear one on Saturday, and she could wear that one Monday?"

At that, Lou's mother's eyebrows shot up toward the ceiling. I stammered a bit into the phone, and tried to recover.

"I mean, they're only bowling shoes, right?" I said. Her eyebrows came back down.

"Oh, does Louise have something to say about it?" Mom said.

Louise? I silently echoed. Oh, she means Lou! "Close," I replied.

"Lou's mother?"

"Oh, yes," I said.

"I'll see what Miranda thinks. So, which one could you lend her for Monday?"

"Could you name them?" I asked.

"Tinkerbell, Rainbow Brite, Princess."

"The last one."

"Princess. Okay. Alright. Talk to you when you get home tonight. Oh, and Juliette?"

"Yes, Mom?"

"I'm glad you like them all so much." I could hear the smile in her voice.

I gave something between a cough and a laugh and hung up.

Lou's mother was frowning. "Did I hear your mother say Tinkerbell?" she asked.

"Uh, yeah," I said, thinking fast. "It's our nickname for a friend of the family."

"Ah," she nodded. "Well, speaking of Tinkerbell reminds me: there was something I wanted to ask you."

I blushed at that, and she looked at me with curiosity. "What is it?" I stammered.

"Well," she said, drawing out the words and watching me, "It's about Halloween."

"What about it?" I could hear the game still going in the living room, and from the noises Lou was making, he was deep into it.

"Lou tells me that none of the kids at school want to do anything for Halloween. Is that true?"

"Yes," I said. "They all say it's for babies."

"So I've heard. What I want to know is: what do *you* say?"

"Huh?"

"Do *you* think Halloween is for babies? Are you too old for trick-or-treat or Halloween parties?"

"Ah, ah–"

"Don't worry. You can tell me. I won't tell Lou."

Blushing furiously, I said, "We are too big for trick-or-treating."

She shrugged and smiled, and I felt her resist the urge to make a crack about my height.

I went on. "But Halloween parties? I think they're a lot of fun."

"Costumes? Pumpkins? Candy?" she asked.

"All of the above," I said, smiling.

"I thought so," she said, returning my smile. "That's all I wanted to know."

Then something happened that happens every time I'm at Lou's house. She said, "Come here and let me give you a hug."

I took a deep breath as she folded her arms around me. Because of my height, my face went right into her soft, wonderful breasts. I put my arms around her, too, and she put one hand on my head and pressed it in there.

Lou's mother was pretty and young, and I always thought she was beautiful. And here I was, with my face as deep in her bosom as it could possibly go. I let my breath out into the soft pillowy mounds, and felt I was in heaven.

I never knew what to make of this. She did it every time, and always when Lou couldn't see. It always got me tremendously aroused, and she always let me go with a smile and didn't seem to notice.

I ran into the bathroom until my agitation passed, then went back to join Lou.

---

When I got home, Mom told me, "You don't need to give up any of your costumes. I'm making a new one for Miranda. I've never made costumes for girls before, and it's a lot of fun. She's going to be Supergirl."

"Great."

Mom crunched into a celery stick. "Miranda's pretty nice. I liked her. She's a smart girl and very pretty."

"You're not trying to fix me up with her, are you? For one thing, she's way too young–"

"She's only four years younger than you–"

"And for another, she's going to think I'm a girl."

"Yeah, there is that," Mom admitted. "Oh, well."

"And don't say you'll figure some way around it, Mom."

"I wasn't going to."

"Good."

But she kept crunching on the celery, looking thoughtful.

---

The next day in school, Louis asked me, "Hey, you want to come over tonight? My mom's making lasagna and she said to invite you."

"Nice," I said. "I have to ask." He handed me his cell phone and I got the okay from Mom.

"Cool," Louis said. "You know, Chapters, sometimes I think my mother likes you better than she does me."

"Really?" I said, and slid my heavy history book into my lap.

---

I was in a constant state of excitement. Not because of Lou's mother. And not because I'd be wearing girl's clothes. It was something else entirely.

It was Halloween that excited me, and this year was no ordinary Halloween. This year, since no one else was celebrating, it was my Halloween. And my Halloween was wrapped up in a secret.

It wasn't just *my* secret, either. Mom and Dad were in on it. And Mrs. Jameson, even if I didn't know her.

The prospect of sneaking off for a weekend — a weekend of being someone else — and getting out of school to do it — it was very nearly more than I could bear.

Add to that, the fact that I was doing something no one else in my class was doing. They would miss it all.

This year, I had Halloween all to myself.

I was aching to tell someone. I came very close to telling Lou, but I knew it would be social suicide. Could you imagine if the guys — no, forget about the guys! — if the girls knew that I was taking off to dress up like a ten-year-old girl and go trick-or-treating with a real ten-year-old girl?

I imagined myself, dolled up like Rainbow Brite or Tinkerbell, running into Carson or Tynan — or worse, Carson or Tynan with a camera. Or even worse than that, Kristie and Diana!

I'd never live it down. There'd be no hole deep enough. And with the internet, no place far enough away.

So, as difficult as it was not to tell, in the same way it wasn't difficult at all. (If that makes any sense.)

---

"Chapters, you've been acting pretty weird lately. Are you on something?" Lou joked.

"No," I said. "I'm fine." There was still one more weekend before Halloween. I wasn't sure I could last that long.

Lou looked uncomfortable. I could see something was eating him, but had no idea what.

"Look, I have a problem," he confided. "Here's the thing..." Then he hesitated. "You have to swear to not tell anyone. I don't know what to do. It's my mother..."

"What about her?" My heart sped up a few beats.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "She wants me to have a Halloween party. She's got it all organized." He opened his bag and showed me a pack of white envelopes. "She even made invitations. I'm supposed to give them out today."

My heart fell to my feet. A Halloween party? I tried to gulp, but my throat was suddenly dry. "When?" I managed to croak.

"The Saturday before," he muttered. He moved his hands in a gesture of hopelessness. "She says everybody will come, but I think everyone will laugh."

My mind raced. Did I want the party to come off, or not? If he was going to have a party, I wanted to be there. But how could I?

I opened my mouth, but in the same moment, his cell phone rang.

"Hello? Oh, hi, Mrs. Samson. No, Chapters is right here. Right. No, it's not a problem. Okay, thanks. Here he is," and he handed the phone to me.

"Victor?"

"Hi, Mom. What's up?"

"Nothing to worry about, but could you come straight home from school today? Don't stop at Lou's house or anywhere else. I need to talk to you about something. Something about Halloween. We need to figure something out, and the sooner the better."

"Okay," I said doubtfully. Truth to tell, I was a little scared.

"Don't worry," she said. "It's nothing bad."

"Okay," I repeated. "Anything else?"

"Nope. Oh noo, I take that back — there is something else I want to tell you."

"What?" I asked nervously. Mom was acting so mysterious, it really freaked me out. "What do you have to tell me, Mom?" I demanded.

"I love you," she said.

"Ah, um, okay," I said, caught off guard.

"Aren't you going to tell me that you love me too?"

"Yes, Mom. When I get home tonight."

She laughed and rang off.

"What was that about?" Lou asked.

I shrugged. "She wants to talk to me about something. I have to go right home after school."

He frowned. "Hope it's nothing bad."

"She says it's not, but that just—"

"— when they say it's not, it makes you feel like it is. I know." He chewed his lip. "So what am I going to do, man?"

"About what?"

"About the PARTY!" he hissed.

"You should have it," I said.

"Really? You think so."

"Yes," I replied. "You can tell everybody it's just a party. You can say that your mother wanted it to be a Halloween party and you couldn't stop her."

He nodded. "That could work. Yeah, that could work." He looked in his bag at the envelopes. "Okay, I can do it. I can go with that."

He shouldered the bag and said, "Of course, you know you're invited."

I didn't answer. He froze, then opened his hands as if to say what?. "Chapters, tell me that you're coming."

"I—" I faltered, not knowing what to say.

"Oh, that's perfect!" he said, heavy with sarcasm. "What was all that buildup, then, telling me I ought to have the party? My mother said that you wanted to go a party."

My face was white. My mind went blank. I had to say something, but what could I say? At last it came to me: "I have to ask my mother."

"Your mother? What are you, in kindergarten? You have to ask your mother if you can come to my party?"

"No, we're going away that weekend."

"Where?"

"Boston."

"Why?"

Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead. My father's joking excuse was the only thing that came to mind. "My Uncle Mickey..."

"What — is he going to die that weekend, and you have to go to the funeral?"

I'd been worked up for weeks about my Halloween secret, and all that pressure had me ready to blow. My frustration was so intense that it nearly brought tears to my eyes. I felt a desperate need to find a good story, to tell a good lie, but nothing came. I should have been ready, in case someone asked. I should have had something ready to say.

And I wanted to go to Lou's party! But how could I? Could I? Was there a way?

Lou was staring at me, but his indignation faded as he watched the succession of tormented expressiones pass over my face. His mood quickly changed. With a look of alarm, he said, "Oh, crap! I'm sorry, man, I'm sorry. I was only joking. Really, I'm sorry! I didn't know. Is your uncle okay?"

"I don't know," I gasped.

"Is he in the hospital?"

I shook my head.

Lou drew a deep breath. "I'm sorry, man. I was only joking. You know that, right?" I nodded and ran my hand over my face. "Listen, you go do what you gotta do, alright?" His face fell. "Oh, crap! That's probably why your mother called! Something about your uncle. Oh, man."

He hoisted his bag over his shoulder and gave me a soft punch on the arm. "I hope he's alright, man. Take care, buddy. Anything you need, okay?" and he walked off to hand out his invitations. "No hard feelings, right?"

I smiled, and he smiled back. We were good.

I felt a little bad about the whole thing, but later on, as I replayed the conversation in my memory, I realized that technically I hadn't lied. Lou had done all the talking, filling my silence with his own suppositions.

---

When I got home, I asked my mother who Uncle Mickey was.

"Was? You mean is. He's your father's oldest brother. Don't you remember him, at your Aunt Rose's wedding? That was the last time you would have seen him. No? Oh, that's right: you were too little.

"Well, your Uncle Mickey is the black sheep of the family, to hear your father tell it. All of his brothers... they want nothing to do with Mickey, which is a great shame.

"He's a handsome man. Very good looking, like Sean Connery in his prime." Mom actually blushed. I frowned, which made Mom laugh.

"Oh, you silly. He'd never even look at me. He always had eyes for–" here she glanced at me "–well, never mind."

"Anyway, I know I don't have the story straight, but it had something to do with losing your grandfather's money. According to your father's version, Mickey lost the money in some sort of fight."

"A fight? Really? Was it a lot of money?"

"I don't know. According to your father and his brothers, it was. According to his sisters, the story isn't true and can't be true. After that, your uncle disappeared for a long time, and none of us knew where he was. We all got married, children were born... and where was Mickey? He came back after a long time... your Aunt Mary says he lives somewhere in Boston, but no one sees him."

She sighed and looked at me. "Why the sudden interest?"

I blushed at first, then remembered to say, "Dad mentioned him the other night."

"Oh yes," she said. "Well, don't mention Mickey to your father, or we won't hear the end of it for days. Understand?"

I nodded, and took a bite of the sandwich Mom made for my snack. "So what did you want to talk to me about?" I asked.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" she scolded. "Oh, it's not a big deal. We just have to figure something out. Miranda is going to call you and invite you to go to the movies with her."

I nearly choked on the sandwich, and gaped a whaa? at my mother.

"Close your mouth while you're eating!" she cried. "You don't think I want you to go, do you? We have to think of a reason why you can't. A plausible reason. I'm not saying we should lie..."

"Is she calling tonight?" I asked. It seemed like the world was closing in on me, and I felt an enormous sense of dread. First the problem of Lou's party, and now this!

"No, apparently she has a lot of after school activities, and she's going to call tomorrow after school. We have time to think. Your father can probably come up with a passable excuse — he seems to be good at that."

I nodded, a little relieved.

"We'll talk about it at dinner. See if you can come up with something in the meantime. We can say we're going somewhere as a family — that's probably the easiest thing, but she'll want to know where, so ..."

"I get it," I said, chewing slowly.

"And, uh, you might want to watch this before you talk to her," Mom said, handing me a DVD. "Macy dropped it off today."

© 2007, 2008 by Kaleigh Way