Barefoot Memories of a Hillbilly - Trick or Treat

Not too many trick or treaters come out our way, at least not like they do in town. When I used to go handout candy for Great Aunt Mattie who lived in Annville-town, she always had 250-300 kids come by. Sometimes in such large groups it felt more like a mugging than a candy give away. But at home, 15 to 20 was a really big number to come by. Mom always gets extra candy just in case, she doesn’t  want any kids going away disappointed, especially kids like Pap and me.

Generally on Halloween night, the hours for handout are from 5-8pm. The hours are longer because it takes longer having to travel by car between houses, unlike candy seekers in towns where they can walk door to door. Dark begins to set in just about the time the kids start coming by which coincides with the dishes being done, and Pap settles down to fall asleep while he tries to read the paper. Mom settles with a tv show or a good western, the porch light on, the candy bowl full and waiting.

Ghosts and goblins are scattered about;  waiting between them can become quite lengthy. Pap wakes from his nap hungry, and tells me to run around the house and knock on the front door to  see “if your Mammy will give us a candy bar.”  So, as was our latest tradition, I exit the backdoor and circle the house to knock, calling “trick or treat.” Mom comes to the door with a couple candy bars. I then go back around the house thru the backdoor to split the goods with Pap. He used to not care for candy or dessert too much, but has developed a sweet tooth in his later years. We both eat our miniature candy bars and decide it tastes pretty good. Mom occasionally gets up to greet a few “haints,” talking with the kids and their parents each time. The wind is beginning to get up, sweeping colorful  leaves off the maple trees. The clouds are drifting across the sky, hiding the moons face. A cackle from the old hooty owl on the hill echos down the way.

As the night drags on, the candy bowl empties somewhat, Pap and I have enjoyed a couple more of those little candy bars. The clock is pushing its hand closer to 8 o'clock when the porch light can be turned off. A few last minute stragglers stop in, carrying treat bags stuffed with colorful treats. Finally...the light is turned off. Suddenly the night feels strange, the chill in the air feels as if there is a promise of winter in the air. The moon darting between the clouds is creepy. Sounds seem bigger. Mysterious shadows are building around the corners. Everything barren. All loose objects having been put away so not to tempt any deeds of mischief. Another Halloween now packing it’s bags and moving on.

I wear shoes now, but sometimes I have barefoot memories.