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CHAPTER TWELVE
HAROLD HATED GOBLINS, Sara knew. He always had.
Whether two feet tall or four, the sight of them drove him absolutely crazy, and witches, warlocks, and creatures from outer space didn’t do much for him, either.
“Sorry, bud,” she said as she stepped out of her apartment on Sunday evening. “This time you’ve got to stay home—at least until all the monsters have gone to bed.”
She took a deep breath, grinned, then went down the steps two at a time.
Back in Dallas, she lived in a gated apartment complex that sometimes seemed more like a rabbit warren than a real home—the parking lot was usually full, spaces were hard to find.
People came and went so quickly that her neighbors were perpetual strangers. Halloween never brought trick-or-treaters to her door.
Here they weren’t likely to show up at her door, either, because the apartment over the garage wasn’t even visible from the street. But droves of kids would be going from door to door, and Zoe had asked her to escort Josh. It would be fun to see the night unfold.
At the Shuellers’ front door, she knocked and then stepped aside as a group of preschoolers scampered up the porch steps.
“Wow! Let’s see—a fairy, a bride, Cinderella...” She frowned. “And what are you?”
“A bat.” The child lifted arms draped in black to show off her wings. “A vampire bat.”
Sara grinned over her head at Zoe, who’d come to the door with a bowl of treats and Timmy on one hip. “These guys are great!” she said. “How many kids do you usually get?”
“Forty, maybe fifty. It depends on the weather.” Zoe turned over her shoulder. “Josh, Sara’s here. Are you ready?”
Another set of trick-or-treaters had arrived and left before Josh appeared at the door, looking a little sheepish. “What do you think?”
He wore a black cape and vampire teeth, and the white makeup on his face was liberally doused with fake blood. The large rubber gloves on his hands were tipped with curved talons.
“I think you look really horrible. Great job with the blood—did you put it on yourself?”
“Yeah.” He met her gaze, then looked away. “I could go by myself, you know.”
His mother shooed him out the door. “I’m sorry, Josh, but no. Your dad has to work late, and I have to stay here and watch the door.”
“Guys my age don’t have a grown-up with them. They go with their friends.”
“It might be different next year—and I’m worried about that ankle of yours.”
“But it’s fine!”
“What happens if you stumble in the dark and twist it again?” Zoe’s face brightened as another contingent of costumed kids started up the walk. “You two go on, now. Have fun.”
Josh trudged down the porch steps past the oncoming group, then waited for Sara on the sidewalk. From his furtive glances up and down the street, Sara knew he was embarrassed.
