This sucks, Beatrice thought. Beneath the shadows of the cabinets, Beatrice ducked behind a silver teapot. She slid down to the counter and buried her head in her knees. How the hell am I supposed to get home? She looked up at the unpainted wooden underbelly of the cabinets. Serves me right for throwing a rock at a bluebird.

Light dispelled her cloak of shadows. She looked around to see a pudgy hand lift the teapot away. A baby face with brown eyes and a pudgy nose filled her vision. The eyes blinked. "Hey, little lady!" A boy's voice said. "I'm Greg, and that's my brother Wirt! Whatcha doin' here?" Hands lifted the teapot, balancing it upside down on his head.

"Greg," a sterner voice cracked with adolescence, "who are you talking to?" Another face, leaner with a pointier nose approached. "Ahhh! Cockroach!" Beatrice covered her ears to block out his shriek. She thanked her lucky stars when she dodged the longer hand that came slamming down on the counter.

Greg giggled. "Silly Wirt! That's not a cockroach! It's a little lady!" Without any warning, he scooped her into his hands. "See? Say hi to Wirt, miss!" He turned to Wirt. "Maybe she's magical! D'you think she can turn me into a tiger, Wirt? Rawr." His mouth widened, giving Beatrice a perfect view of his teeth and the gaping abyss beyond.

Wirt took off his red dunce hat and ran a hand through his mussed brown hair. "Oh my gosh, I do not have time for this." He shook his head and rubbed his eyes. "Maybe this is a bad dream. I will wake up, and it'll be morning."

Beatrice ignored Wirt's histrionics. "The name's Beatrice. No, I can't turn you into a tiger. I'm not magical." She tapped her chin. "But. If you help me get home, I'll owe you a favor. Scout's honor. I haven't gone back on my word." She crossed her heart.

"No." Wirt crossed his arms and frowned. "Greg, just put her back where you found her. If you want any candy tonight, we have to leave now."

"Okay!" As Wirt put his hat on, Greg tucked Beatrice into his pants. "You should come trick-o-treating with us, Beatrice! It'll be fun!"

Wirt groaned and threw his hands up into the air. "What part of 'put her back' did you not understand, Greg?" He turned around and stalked away. "Fine. You do what you want. But if you get in trouble - " Wirt jabbed a finger at Greg's chest. "It's not my responsibility, got it?"

Greg saluted. "Sir, yes, sir!" He giggled as he skipped to the porch. As Wirt checked the windows, door, and stovetop, he swung his pillowcase and hummed.

Beatrice scaled Greg's suspenders. "Wow, what a pushover." Perched his shoulder, she looked around. The streets, slick with rain, reflected the lights on the porch. Goblins, sheet ghosts, princesses, and cowboys pranced down the street, giggling as they knocked on doors and shouted "Trick o' treat!"

Beatrice processed this sight as Wirt stepped onto the porch. Greg followed his brother - sorry, half-brother to the neighboring house. Wirt rang the doorbell and stepped back, revealing fake cobwebs and plastic spiders strewn across the door frame. A candle flickers from behind a jack o'lanterns toothy grin.

The door opens, and Beatrice dives beneath Greg's collar. "Trick o' treat, Old Lady Daniels!" she hears Greg chirp.

"Happy Halloween, Gregory." Dipping her hand into a bag of Starburst, she dropped a generous handful into Greg's outstretched pillow sack. "And please don't call me Old Lady."

"Yes, sir, young man! Look, Wirt, I got candy!" Greg held up his pillowbag and shook it. The candy inside rattled against the cotton cloth.

"Greg, it's Halloween." Wirt rolled his eyes. "Thanks, Mrs. Daniels."

"Happy Halloween, Wirt. It's been a while since I've seen you last." She held up another handful of candy. "Would you like some?"

Wirt held up a hand and shook his head. "No, thanks. I'm just accompanying Greg while Mom and his dad are out. Besides, I don't have a bag."

Greg waved his. "You can use mine, Wirt! We can split the candy up when we go home. I promise I'll be fair."

Wirt smiled. "It's okay."

"Are you sure, young man?" Mrs. Daniels raised a brow. "You are dressed up after all."

"Wirt's a pilgrim! I'm an elephant!" Greg held out his pillow sack, and Mrs. Daniels obliged.

Wirt didn't object. "Well, we should get going now. Thanks, Mrs. Daniels."

She nodded. "You have a good night, young man. Stay safe and visit more often." The door closed, and the brothers headed to the next house.