A Tangled Web We Weave
Casey carefully shut his bedroom door and turned on the music channel on his computer, amping the sound up just high enough so his parents wouldn't tell him to turn it down. He had this all planned, he'd been planning it for weeks, ever since they'd told him that a 10-year old was too young to go trick or treating on his own.
Throwing a glance at the closed door, he crouched down and pulled his costume out from under the bed. His wonderful Spiderman costume, a head-to-toe concoction of tight red fabric, a flowing blue cape, and etched black webs which his Grandma had made for him. Mom had told him he could wear the costume to the family Halloween party on Saturday but Casey knew that there was only one day to wear a Halloween costume - he wasn't that dumb. 31 October, All Hallows Eve. Tonight.
He struggled into the costume, wishing that Grandma was here to help. She'd warned him that it was very tight. Spiderman could not afford to have loose bits of cloth hanging about that could catch on things and slow him down as he saved the world. By the time he'd snapped and pinged the well-fitted headpiece over his head he was hot and bothered and wondering if he should have stopped to take a pee first. He peered at himself in the mirror through the cut slits of the eye holes and grinned, his breath puffing hotly against the fabric which now covered his mouth. He looked exactly like Spiderman! Surely no one could tell the difference?
Casey carefully, quietly climbed up onto his bed and unlatched his bedroom window. He leveraged himself up onto the window sill and stopped, listening for any sign of his parents at the door, but all he could hear was the hum and the throb and the beat of the hip hop music from his computer speakers. He slipped over the sill and landed, red-webbed feet first, in the snaggle of weeds outside his window. Spiderman had made his escape!
Casey pulled his trick or treat bag from the hollow of the oak tree where he'd left it earlier and marched proudly out on the street and into the steadily growing throngs of young trick or treaters. All of them accompanied by an adult, he noticed with disdain. Spiderman needed no accompaniment. Spiderman worked alone.
He pushed his way through a giggling huddle of Disney princesses and strode purposely onwards. He knew where he was going. Old man Johnson's house on Park Street. Old man Johnson always hung around the cluster of trees at the edge of the park, calling out to the children who passed by on their way to school and offering sweets and enticements. Though Casey had never taken a sweet offered from the man's shaking hand, surely old man Johnson's house was chockful of candies and other delights? And what better night than Halloween to visit and plunder the treasures he seemed so anxious to share?
Casey reached old man Johnson's house, two blocks over from his own, and the first tiny prickles of trepidation plucked at the back of his neck as he gazed at the peeling paint of the house. He looked up and down the street, unsure of why none of the parents had brought their costumed charges here. Surely everyone knew of old man Johnson's willingness to hand out candy? He glanced back at the front door, red and faded, and his eyes lingered on the tarnished brass knocker. In just a few Spider-steps he could be on that porch and banging on that knocker, bag open and ready for all of his treats.
A daddy-and-daughter Minion pair walked past as he stood, undecided, on the sidewalk. "Don't go in there," the little girl warned Casey through the bright yellow cloth of her outfit. "Old man Johnson is scary."
Casey thrust his shoulders back. He was Spiderman! Spiderman wasn't scared of anyone or anything. As the Minions disappeared up the street he tightened his grip on his bag and marched up the path and leapt onto the porch. He stood for a moment on the weathered boards and looked back at the street. The sidewalk was only a few short steps from where he stood but from here it seemed a long, long way away.
Casey whirled around as the door behind him opened just a crack. He leaned forward and peered into the dim light. He was sweating heavily now and a few drops of perspiration clung to his eyelashes. He squinted through the dampness and the inadequate eye slots of his costume, not sure if he could see anyone standing there or not.
"Is that you Spiderman? I was hoping you would call by. I have a whole web of treats for you. Step inside for just a minute and you can have them all." The door widened a little more, but still Casey could not see old man Johnson.
He looked back at the street, his body half turned to go. In a few leaps and bounds he could be on the sidewalk and running back, as fast as his Spider-legs could carry him, to his own house. He'd scramble through the window and Mom and Dad would never know he'd left.
"So many chocolate bars," the voice coaxed from the murky blackness just a few inches away from him. "I thought that chocolate was Spiderman's favorite treat? I chose it specially. It would be such a shame for all this lovely candy to go to waste."
Casey made up his mind. He stepped forward eagerly and slipped into the darkness.