[This is my first post on fanfiction, I hope you like it. Even though the theme isa little belated.]
(Disclaimer: I unfortunately do not own these main characters.)
Halloween in Sleepy Hollow
It was the evening of October thirty-first, according to the device given him by Lieutenant Mills. All Hallows' Eve, traditionally the next two days were All Saints and All Souls Days. Ichabod decided he would take an evening stroll; perhaps find some place of worship, and pray for the purgatory trapped soul of his wife among others of his long since deceased friends.
On his way out of the inn he met no one. Coming out into the street he walked a couple of blocks, seeing only a few gas-powered-carriages. A residential street faced him after a turn.
Children of every age filled the street as well as the next street over. They were dressed in strange garb and seemed to be visiting each household with bags that became gradually larger. Becoming curious Ichabod joined the bustling crowd. Watching this phenomenon, he observed the procedure to be; to approach a house, dressed in those inane costumes, to utter some statement which inclines the inhabitant to place colorful handfuls into out-held bags.
Throughout these observations he had continued walking down the street. Near by a mother reminded her boy to say thank you, Ichabod was stunned that this age's children needed reminding of common manners. A group of children marched past him in eager anticipation of what awaited them at the next door. Following them he supposed his clothing was out of place enough to fit among this throng. Upon the stoop sat a large orange object with blowing cut outs.
One of the children knocked upon the door, it opened to reveal a gruff-looking woman with a face which did not succumb to smiles gracefully. None the less it did break into said expression when the children shouted in unison, "Trick or Treat!" She dropped handfuls of brightly colored objects into each of the several bags. The throng dispersed from the stoop, leaving Ichabod to take his turn. The woman's smile had disappeared.
"Umm...Trick...or..Treat?"
"A little old to be trick-or-treating, aren't we?" With that she shut the door in his face.
"Madam! I am unaware of any age limit enforced upon this activity!" Pounding on the door before him he continued to shout. "I request that you open this door and provide me with an explanation of your behavior!" Behind him a siren sounded in a short burst. The door of a gas-carriage marked "police" opened and Lieutenant Mills could be seen through it.
"Crane! Get over here." Reluctantly removing himself from the stoop he approached the vehicle. "Get in." He climbed awkwardly into the wretched contraption. She began slowly driving down the street. "What were you doing?"
"I was merely taking an evening stroll, when I came across this ridiculous custom of your time. What, may I ask, is the purpose of this celebration which overcame the solemn holy day of my time?"
"It's Halloween, kids get dressed up as characters or creatures and go 'round collecting candy."
"I see," he said not seeing in the slightest, "and is this a specialty, this candy, only received on this day?"
"No, it's just a ton of sugar and flavoring, most kids have it everyday."
"Then what I'd the purpose? And what is that atrocious garment you are wearing?"
"It's a flapper dress," he raised an eyebrow, "a dancer, from the 1920's... never mind. I was at the department Halloween party."
"So, what are these orange glowing objects sitting upon the stoops?"
"They're Jack o' Lanterns, carved hollowed out pumpkins with candles inside. Suppose to ward off evil spirits." She said the last sentence with more than a ting of sarcasm.
"We had something similar, a lit candle on the window sill, however we cooked and ate the pumpkin. And they did protect against dark spirits." He stated in defense of his wife. "Why are humorous faces carved into them?"
"If you're so interested, we'll make some. I just need to stop at the store and buy a pair."
In the recently abandoned cabin the two pumpkins sat on the table over a layer of newspaper.
"What are these?" Asked Ichabod still in a state of culture shock.
"They're pumpkins."
"That is not what pumpkins look like."
"Well, it's what pumpkins look like now." Taking an inventory of the tools she checks aloud. "Sharpies, spoons, paper towels, bowl, and... a knife we need another knife. Maybe there's one..."
"I have one." Ichabod said removing the weapon from his belt.
"You carry a knife with you?"
"It was a common utility. Let us begin!" Following Lieutenant Mills' instruction he successfully opened and hollowed the pumpkin, until it came to drawing the face. He held one of the odorous pens, trying in vain to draw a mouth. "I fail to find the enjoyment in this infernal craft!"
"The mouth's the most fun,... here, let me do it." Taking the pen from him, she proceeded to draw a loose-toothed grin. Much more adept with the knife than the pen, he managed to carve out the face before the lieutenant. They placed the pumpkins outside on the porch. Lieutenant Mills carried two candles and a box of matches.
"So this is what people of your time use candles for?"
"Since the lightbulb they've become a bit rare." Within the cabin once more, Ichabod removed the fibrous material which surrounded the seeds. Once removed the pie was placed on a tray and put into the oven. "You figured out the oven?"
"Yes, I had only to collect the wood." Feeling proud of this achievement, he opened the door to reveal a small fire burning at the bottom of the oven. The lieutenant could not help but laugh. "Is it not the same principle as the Franklin stove?"
"Not at all, it's an... a vintage gas oven. I'll show you later." He removed the tray from the fiery oven and dumped the roasted seeds into a bowl on the table. Joining the seated lieutenant, he began snacking on the large seeds. "So, what was Halloween like in your time?"
"Well, actually it was a night of mischief for the young. I remember the time the son of a candle maker and I replaced all the candles in several houses with ones that couldn't be blown out. Then there was the time in 1761. I knew this fellow, the son of a printer; we printed pamphlets with the news that the French had taken Boston, it took weeks for his father to find and correct it."
"Crane the hell-raiser." She interjected, crunching a handful of the seeds.
"While I was teaching at Oxford, I managed to convince the entire faculty, including the headmaster, that the school was on fire. It took quite a lot of tobacco and some wood in key positions, but in the end the entire school was out in the courtyard."
"And you seriously did this stuff?"
"Indeed." He replied, shocked to have his integrity questioned.
A few tale filled hours later Lieutenant Mills announced that it was getting late and that it was time she left. Ichabod escorted her out to the porch. There the pumpkins, they had made earlier, sat in an eerie state. The candle in Lieutenant Mills' had been extinguished while his own was engulfed in flame, which poured through all openings.