The Brew Trick-or-Treat
“You’re a brat Chancey. Do you know how much you make me suffer?” Chancey rolled her eyes at my pain and replied with a mischievous grin.
“Don’t lie, Shelly, you can’t wait to feast on the treats we’re going to get, and you’re glad that mom decided to make you babysit me ‘cos she’s too busy, otherwise you wouldn’t be able to trick-a-treat ‘cos you’re too old.” She stuck her tongue out at me and skooted to avoid the look on my face. She giggled and proceeded to lead the way.
‘Lord, she’s such a precocious, intrepid little thing. I love her gangly legs and her naughty grin, but I’d die if she knew how much I adore her. My young sister is a bomb of energy, quivering to explode with fun at the least provocation. It’s delightful!’
The first house on the block was a white double storey with twinkling lights in the windows and a giant pumpkin lantern in the garden. Chancey skipped up the path holding onto her witch’s hat for dear life and prodded the bell with her index finger. I was dressed in a white sheet with cut outs around the eyes, nose and mouth; pretty simple, but I’d made an effort with my little sister’s outfit and had made a black, pointy witch’s hat with purple ribbon wound around it. I’d also fashioned a cotton nightgown to fit her and decorated it with the same purple ribbon to match the hat.
A young woman opened the door, with a bag at the ready. Her face lit up at the sight of my sister with her ginger pigtails, freckles and witchy gear.
“Wow, great outfit, you look so cute! Wait,” she said, “I’ve got something special for you. A little bird told me that you might need it.” She disappeared into the warm glow of the hallway and returned with a strange looking foil bag, which she added to our treat’s pack.
Chancey giggled her thanks and grabbed my hand to lead the way to the next house.
“Wouldn’t it be lovely if mom, or dad, for that matter paid as much attention to us as that woman just did?” A wistful tone accompanied my sister’s words and I felt the pang of neglect that radiated from her heart.
“Mom is just busy, Chance. It’s hard for her since dad left, you know that? She has to earn a living to feed us, and she’s sad, do you understand that she’s so sad about dad?”
“Yeah, I do, but she doesn’t even talk to us. She’s always rushing off, and she didn’t even read the letter from the school about the play I’m going to be in. She won’t come, she doesn’t even know I’m going to be in a play.” I didn’t answer her, because it was all too true and I didn’t know what to say to my eight-year-old sister.
It started to drizzle, and then pelt with rain, putting an end to our adventure. We hurried home.
We dried ourselves off in the warmth of our hallway and Chancey grabbed the bag from me still giggling in anticipation of sweet treats.
“Come on Shell, let’s see what we’ve got. I guess, mom’s gone to bed, as usual. She’s too tired when she’s home to even talk to us, and when she’s awake she’s working, so, basically, we never see her.”
I followed my sister into the kitchen and she tore open the bag spilling an array of candy onto the counter.
“What’s in the special bag?” She mused, tearing that one open too.
A glorious fragrance rose for the bag.
“Jeez, it’s coffee. I don’t drink coffee. That woman is mad, since when do you give coffee to a kid?”
“Maybe it was meant for me. You’ve got to admit that it’s got a gorgeous aroma?”
I grabbed our French Press, boiled a kettle and set the coffee up to brew.
The coffee perfumed the room, deliciously.
When I turned around to see what had made Chancey so quiet, my jaw dropped; there in the doorway was our mother.
“Wow!” She said, in a breathless tone, “that smells awesome. What type of coffee is that?”
Chancey grinned at me, “It’s the magic kind, mom. Would you like a cup? And while you’re at it I got a letter from school that I’d like you to read.”
Our mother sat down at the table and Chancey grinned widely at me over her head.
The next day my sister dragged me off to go and thank the woman who’d revilatised our mom, but the house was not there.
“So it was real magic?” My sister turned to question me with excitement raising a flush to her cheeks.
“No.” I said, “we must have taken another road yesterday, we’re just mistaken.”
My thoughts swirled:
‘I guess we’ll just never know…’
Find the challenge here