Page 18 of No Bones About It

“One what?” I question.

He reaches down and taps the pointed end of a single phalange against my watch, then signals me with one finger in the air again.

“Oh, one minute,” I deduce.

He nods, then pushes my hood back from my face.

“Guess it’s warming up in here now that the heater’s going,” I murmur, pulling my hair free from the sweatshirt.

BJ runs it through his fingers, staring at the strands as they slip through them and then repeating the motion.

My eyes flutter closed, and for the first time in days, I feel myself relaxing. I allow myself to just sit in the moment and enjoy this simple pleasure.

His touch moves to trace over the planes of my face as his other hand wraps around my waist as if tethering me this moment.

The rain beats out a steady tattoo against the canvas of the tent as the space heater hums softly, wrapping us in a cocoon away from the prying eyes of the world and the relentless appetite of social media.

“Can I be honest?” I ask, and open my eyes to look up at him.

He nods encouragingly.

“This right here?” I gesture between us. “This, I love.”

His eyes turn into red hearts again, and I laugh softly.

“I’m happy you love it, too. But all this craziness?” I gesture around the tent. “Not so much.”

He tilts his head at me and puts his hands up in the air, elbows bent as if to ask why.

I look down at the sleeping bag, picking at a small ball of lint on the red and black plaid until a finger gently but firmly lifts my chin to look back at him.

"Well, Lois wanted to take you away." I reach up and run my fingers over the crooked rib, devastated at the mere thought, especially now. Then, I was fighting for a decoration. Now, I’m fighting for so much more.

"She thinks this is all stupid. Decorations. Costumes,” I say, pointing at the photo props. Then I smile up at him and say, “Giant skeletons. People dressing up and pretending."

I shrug.

"Maybe she's right." I give a soft laugh and continue, "But I think people need a little pretending."

His LED eyes stay fixed on me.

"When I was a kid, Halloween was the one night of the year where nobody cared if you were weird. Hell, everybody wanted to be weird. Monsters were cool. Witches were cool. Ghosts were cool. The things people spent the rest of the year hiding suddenly became something worth celebrating."

I look up at him again and explain, "Most holidays are about being grateful for what you already have. Or asking for more stuff. But Halloween is different. Halloween is about imagining what could be."

The words surprise me as they leave my mouth. “It’s hope, and that feels a lot like magic. For one night, people believe in things again. Not just ghosts and monsters. But wishes and possibilities."

My hand settles over his crooked rib once more, and my voice goes soft. "I think that's why I love it so much."

He merely sits still and silent, a large presence that should be imposing but instead is deeply comforting.

“Life is hard. People leave. Things don't work out. Dreams don't happen the way you planned. But every October, I get to believe in magic again, even if just for a little while.”

I smile sadly, thinking about everything that didn’t work out for me.

“And maybe that's why Lois hates it,” I say. And what I don’t say, but my heart ponders is, what didn’t work out for her?

I glance up at him. “Because Halloween asks people to believe. And believing is scary.”