On and on they went. The houses flashed by Jonathan but did not stick in his memory. It was an endless parade of "Trick or treat!" and candy falling into their bags. Everything morphed together until it was one long slog, a gooey, dripping line of houses that melded until one was indistinguishable from the others. Every greeting was a dull murmur. Every tug of his sleeve barely registered.
All he could think about was that his friends saw him out there in a costume collecting candy with two teenagers. It was indescribable. They all saw it. There was no denying it. Now everyone else would know about it, too -- how, no matter how hard he tried, he was still a little kid and not an adult. Now--
"Let's go to this house," Ryan said, pointing across the street. The house was plain, unadorned with any Halloween decoration. Jonathan raised his hand, slowly curled it into a fist and knocked on the door, unaware of what he was doing. There was no answer. He knocked again; there was still no answer.
He knocked once more, and a loud, cranky voice answered, "Go away! I don't have any candy here, you damn kids! Get out!" Jonathan stood in front of the door, not moving a muscle. He let his arms hang at this sides. In a faraway place, he could feel someone tugging at his left arm. He turned and saw Ryan, wide-eyed, frantically pulling at him.
"Let's go, please," Ryan said. He tugged Jonathan's arm harder, and Jonathan snapped out of his trance.
"What's going on?" Jonathan asked. He looked around and saw three teens approaching -- one of them was almost as tall as Jonathan, and the other two flanking him were not much shorter.
"Uh oh," Jenny said. "It's Kurt Kelly."
"Who is that?" Jonathan said. "Is he, like, some school bully or something?"
"That's exactly right," Jenny said.
"Oh," Jonathan said. "Fantastic." Jonathan and the others stepped off the porch while Kurt and his cohorts stomped across the lawn toward them. Kurt stopped in front of Jonathan, sized him up and then sneered at Ryan.
"That's a nice suit, Ryan," Kurt said. "Are you going to play polo with your butt buddies after you go trick or treating?" Kurt and his partners laughed loudly and high-fived each other in honor of Kurt's excellent display of humor.
"Come on, Kurt, just lay off!" Jenny said.
"Ooh," Kurt replied. "I'm scared now. You need your sister to fight your battles for you? What a sissy."
Suddenly, Ryan burst forward and took a swing at Kurt, who stepped back, avoided the punch and laughed. He grabbed Ryan by the head and shoved him to the ground, and then he spat at him.
"Finally grew a backbone, huh?" Kurt asked. "That's fine with me. Let's go right now." However, before he could do any more damage to Ryan, Jonathan stepped forward.
"Look, kid, just get out of here," Jonathan said, sighing. "There's no point to this. I'm tired. I just want to get to bed, and I'm sure Jenny and Ryan want to get their candy or something. Go find some other kid to pick on."
Kurt stepped up to Jonathan until they were nose to nose. Jonathan could feel beads of nervous sweat pouring down his face, and Kurt's breath fogged his glasses.
"You telling me what to do, nerd?" Kurt asked. Jonathan looked at Jenny, who was pale, and Ryan, who was dusting dirt from his clothes, and then back at Kurt.
"Yes," Jonathan said, gulping. "I am an adult, and you are a child. I am telling you what to do. Get out of here now."
"Nobody tells me what to do," Kurt said. "That is, unless you wanna fight me for the right."
"I am 21 years old," Jonathan said. "And you're, what, 13? I am not going to fight you."
"That's too bad," Kurt said. Before Jonathan could respond, Kurt kicked him in the shin. Jonathan yelped in pain, grabbed his leg and hopped around a few times before falling over. Kurt then bent over Jonathan and punched him in the face. "How do you like that?" he asked. "Are you still gonna tell me to leave?"
Jonathan raised his hands to protect his face. Before he could reply to Kurt, though, everyone froze. The remnants of a loud bang echoed through the air; everyone's hearts took a few seconds to settle down into normalcy after working triple time momentarily.
"What the hell was that?" Jonathan squeaked.
"It was me, you God damn young'uns," shouted the old, cranky man who lived in the house. His face was almost all beard -- his wild gray hair connected with his facial hair in one huge tangle. He steadied his rifle on his shoulder. The rifle was pointed at a spot between Kurt and Jonathan, and Jenny and Ryan. Jonathan could smell where the bullet had impacted the grass just a couple of feet away from his head. He closed his eyes and mouthed a silent prayer to whomever would listen.
"I'm just gonna tell ya once," the old man shouted, reloading his gun. "Get the hell off my lawn, or else I'm gonna have to call the police and claim self defense. Y'hear?" The rifle moved not a millimeter on his shoulder.
"OK, Kurt," Jonathan whispered. "Just get off me right now, turn around and run away. Please." Kurt stood up slowly, backed up next to his pals and they turned and ran away.
"Now you," the old man said. "Get up." Jonathan stood up slowly and raised his hands.
"Jenny, Ryan, both of you raise your hands, too," Jonathan said. "Back away slowly so that he can see you, until we're around the corner. Don't panic. Everything is going to be just fine."
"Damn right everything is going to be just fine," the old man said. "If you get the hell off my lawn." Jonathan moved off the old man's lawn and onto the sidewalk, and then he continued backward slowly until he was almost around the corner. He kept eye contact with the old man the entire time. Once he was around the corner, he looked to make sure Jenny and Ryan were with him, and then he grabbed their hands and took off down the street until they found a short row of bricks on which to sit and gather their thoughts.
