Asleep at the Squeal

A SZEN SHORT:

For the previous five or so Halloweens, he would buy four or five large bags of candy to give out to the trick or treaters, and each year he was left with most all of his stash of sweets and unable to give it away. In fact, not one child ever appeared – no door bells ringing, children laughing, or tricks were to be found. It was as if his house was a dead zone when it came to Halloween.

This bothered the old man because he knew there were children in the neighborhood. He heard them all the time, laughing and crying and he would watch them ride their bikes and wagons up and down the street during the day, and sometimes night, almost every single day of the year. And it wasn’t as if the children were not out and about on this sweet-filled holiday, they were; he saw them roving like gypsies from one house to the next and the “trick or treat” anthem that he could hear from the neighbors’ stoops lingered in the air with a sweetness that only children’s voices can create.

He had created a sort of observation post and while sitting in his comfy chair it made him sad to wait and watch out the window to see the children pass him by. “Stop here” he would quietly mutter to himself as he witnessed bands of kids in grotesque and wonderfully cute costumes parade in front of his house, but never would stop for their treats. They would move past, eventually out of ear shot and he would sit back down in a slouch in front of the window wondering why they would not come. What had he done to deserve to be shunned by the young ones as well as their parents? As he pondered this question, he dozed off into a silent sleep and began to dream.

As he sat still and motionless with chin firmly on chest, a slight snoring-like murmur slipping from his lips, he was visible to all of the goblins and fairy princesses and other scary creatures that roamed the streets in front of his house. His stoic and frozen-like image caught the eyes of the young ones who thought that he may be dead. As the children had been doing for the last five years, they started to congregate in front of his window, and each would take a turn peering into the low light of his home and wonder if he were still alive. The braver children would come right up to the glass and stare, then tap the window and retreat; afraid yet wanting to be scared. After some time, his motionless body attracted every trick or treater in the neighborhood. Some of the parents stood back and watched as the children took turns to challenge the lifeless form behind the glass with a yelp or tap on the window. Some thought they saw him move and others thought he was just a stuffed mannequin or something.

After some time, the crowd in front of the old man’s house grew larger and those that observed debated on whether he was real or alive or dead or just asleep. The gathering, now in the hundreds, decided that they would try to awaken him with one choreographed loud “trick or treat” chant. At the count of three they let lose with the loudest “trick or treat” you can imagine – nothing. He didn’t move, so the crowd decided that he wasn’t real. And as they collectively peered into the window one last time, he awoke with a jolt. The entire crowd jumped in surprise and in a panic turned away and scattered into the darkness.

As the old man got his focus, rubbed his eyes and put on his glasses, he stood up and squinted out into the street. There was nothing but darkness and silence; another uneventful Halloween. He turned out the light and closed the blinds, still wondering where the children had gone.
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Today’s Szenippet: You never know who’s watching you and how what they see, changes their life.