I can remember so clearly being at my friend’s house on the end of that dead end road. Sitting in his room or his sister’s room with our piles of recently-collected candy in front of us. We’d spent the night moving from house to house, ringing doorbells and saying “trick or treat.” Neighborhoods we’d walked countless times before were transformed; the lighting on every front porch more sinister, the wind blowing through the trees whispering and howling, and the shadows reaching and clawing. Of course there was that one house we were all afraid of. You know the one. Dressed in costumes, the world disappearing until all that was left was that one house. The one where the bushes were too big and the walk way to the front door was overgrown. The house you weren’t even sure if anyone lived in. Somehow, this house seemed only to exist on Halloween night. You’d stand out front just staring at it. Are you going to ring the bell or should we just keep going. Keep going? Okay.
Now we’re back in the safety of our friend’s home with our piles of candy. Trading anything coconut for anything sour. Swapping change for chocolate and apples for gum. Our treasure a reward for making it through the night and avoiding the horrors that hid in the shadows. The neighborhood adults moved from the kitchen to the living room and back again. Most were in costume. The adults were always a mystery and tonight even more so. Once familiar faces were covered in paint or mask. They moved differently and talked louder than usual. It was time to walk home.
That half mile stretch of road never seemed as long as it did on Halloween night when I was on my way home, after the trick or treating and after the treasure swap. I never would have made it home alive, I’m convinced, if my dog were not there with me. The shadows would have grabbed me or that house would have come to life, lumbering off of its foundation towards me and swallowing me whole. Every cracking stick was like a thunder bolt, every gust of wind was carrying an evil, and every ruffle of the leaves was a monster shuffling just a little closer. I never would have made it home without my dog. We walked together, and he was brave for both of us.
We’d spot the light to our home from some distance. This always seemed the most dangerous stretch. We’d made it this far, surely the monsters were growing tired of toying with us and would pounce now. Pounce before we could make it to the front door. Our walk would turn into a run, both of us moving at full speed now. Hearing footsteps behind us, gaining ground. Until we hit those wooden front steps, smack smack smack, up we ran. Pulling the screen door open and then the main wooden door, slipping through and slamming it behind us. Lock.
The house was empty, my sister at her friends and my parents with the other adults. I’d drag a blanket down the hallway into the TV room, put on the TV and a horror movie would be on; probably A Nightmare on Elm Street. I’d pull the blanket up high and make sure my dog was at my side. He didn’t care much for movies, which I never did understand. But that was fine, as long as he sat with me. A fluffy 20 pound guard dog, my savior for a night. Most other nights we’re keeping our furry friends safe. Keeping them out of danger, from eating things they shouldn’t or walking down streets we know will be too loud or scary for them. But, not on Halloween. On Halloween the world transforms into a place where they keep us safe from imagined evil and horror. Let’s take a second to thank our canine friends tonight.
