"Are you staying for the apocalypse?" The Hunchback of Notre Dame, or rather Dan Lumis of Mockingbird Lane asks as we pass him on the sidewalk trying to make our way back to our car and escape the hell that is trick-or-treating. I'm muddy, soaking wet and my leg is still smoking from the fire. Staying for apocalypse? I think I already lived through it.
"What are you talking about?" I ask, not sure why I did, because I don't want to fucking know. The last time I asked Lumis anything I had a seventeen minute conversation about his hemorrhoids and how his wife left him. I'm not sure if there was a direct correlation or not. I would've left him, too, but it was Easter mass and I was already stuck to my pew with two kids dressed as bunnies.
"The zombies!" he shouts in a sing-song spooky voice, waving his arms around for dramatic effect. "They're coming this way. We all have to run for our lives!" He really takes this Halloween thing seriously. I still don't know what the fuck he's talking about.
"Daddy, let's stay for zombies!" Teddy says. "I want to see them eat all the brains."
"How do you know about that?"
"Uncle Elliot told me."
"So that's where his went." I laugh. I make a mental note to never leave Elliot unsupervised with Teddy again. Speaking of Elliot, I wonder what this surprise costume is he's wearing tonight. If he tries to steal my candy this time, I'll be ready. I've waited over twenty years for payback and tonight vengeance is mine.
"Sorry, we'll have to miss the brain eating," I say. "We have a party to get to. But, I'm sure there will be some zombies there." They won't even have to dress up. "Come along, kids."
"I'm gonna sit on the curb and wait for them," Dan says, actually sitting his ass on the curb. Appropriate, since his wife kicked him to there. I guess his hemorrhoids are under control now. "I'll keep a spot warm for you if you change your mind!" He waves.
"Have fun, Dan!" I wave back. Less bye-bye, more fuck-off.
I usher the children away and we continue our trek. I never knew how difficult it was to escape a suburban neighborhood. The light rain that started to fall is gaining weight by the second and so is the fur on this costume.
"Daddy, your son is getting all wet and grouchy," Phoebe says as I work to open her umbrella with my paws.
I look to Teddy who's twirling his own umbrella, playing hopscotch in the puddles.
"Teddy's fine," I say. "He's skipping."
"No, I'm not. I'm taking out snails!"
I shake my head. "Don't get snail guts on your shoes! Your mother will kill me!"
"Not Teddy, Daddy!" Phoebe says, blowing her bangs in sheer exasperation at my ignorance. "Your other son, Chester!" The little fur ball twitches his nose, presumably in hunt for a snack of my flesh. Why are some rodents considered pets who wear slippers and you spend holidays with and others you call the Orkin Man for?
"Chester's my son?" I ask. She nods. "I thought he was my brother." She nods. "Who's also a movie star?" She nods. "And who's his mommy?"
"Mommy."
"Last week she was his sister." She nods once more. I'm not sure how this family tree works. Does that make Chester his own father, his own son or me a real rat? Hollywood types are so fucked up.
"Help me with my handle, Taylor," I say, holding the disobedient rod in place.
"What's the matter, sir?"
"I just can't get the thing to pop off."
"Did you squeeze it gently in the middle?"
"I can't squeeze anything! My paws don't bend. I need you to squeeze it for me."
Taylor reaches over like an expert, gives it a firm-yet-gentle press and tug, and the thing explodes directly into his left eye.
"Sorry about that," I say. "I didn't realize that it would shoot that far."
"It happens, sir." He rubs his face.
"Brelly!" Phoebe yells as I hold the umbrella over her.
"Now my furry son is covered."
"He's getting hitted by the sideways rain now." Sideways rain? Daddy's getting hit head on.
"He's in a bathrobe. He's prepared for a shower."
Why are there so many people out in the streets all of a sudden? They're all congregating on the sidewalks, waiting for something to happen. We need to get out of here before anyone else recognizes us and tries to trap me into a conversation.
"Where did you park the car, Taylor?"
"Just around the bend, sir."
"You've been saying that for twenty-five minutes."
"It's a long bend."
We finally turn the corner and Taylor stops abruptly.
"Oh no," he says.
"Oh no, what?" I can't see what he's looking at, but it doesn't sound good.
"Oh no, that," he points.
Suddenly I see the 'oh no' he's 'oh-noing' about- flashing lights, a big truck and the wheels of my SUV being raised off the ground.
"A space ship is stealing our car!" Teddy says, excitedly.
"That's not a spaceship, that's a tow truck! Taylor, why did you park there?"
"You told me to. You had it marked on your map."
"That's not a reason." I look down to my children. "Kids, grab my paws!" They do and we take off.
"Hey!" I shout at the burly tow truck operator on approach. He's wearing a black hoodie with glow-in-the-dark skeleton bones on it, I assume for festive purposes, although from the looks of him it could be a regular thing. He's like the Grim Auto Reaper. "What are you doing with my Audi?"
"Loading up, Big Foot." He gives the signal to some other guy in the truck and the ass of my Audi is lifted so high in the air, she looks like a stripper on a hot Saturday night.
"What do you mean loading up? That's my car! Why are you towing it away?"
"The zombies are coming," he says, matter of factly. Why the fuck is everyone talking about the zombies?
"I'm scared, Daddy!" Phoebe says, grabbing onto my leg with all her limbs like she's a monkey on a tree trunk. Chester pokes his head out from the sack on her arm.
"Don't worry, baby," I pat her hair. "There are no such thing as zombies!"
"Dad, look," Teddy says, pointing down the road. "They're really here!"
"Who?" I turn to look.
"Zombies!"
Oh. My. God. It's a scene right out of Return of the Walking Dead or The Living Dead Die to Live Again or Housewives of Beverly Hills or whatever the fuck it's called. Hundreds of dead eyed flesh seeking zombies filling the road and coming our way. Men, women, children... Even a bulldog with a blood dripping skull around a name tag on his collar that reads: Burt. It's like they were just dropped by the bus load straight from hell or the Hot Topic store at the mall.
"Ahhhhhh!" Phoebe screams, holding tighter to my leg. "They're gonna eat my brains and Chester's for dessert!" Chester goes back into the bag.
"You don't have to worry," Teddy says to his sister. "You don't got any."
In an impressive ninja style move she keeps hold of my leg while she kicks Teddy hard on his.
"Ow!"
"Kids!"
I turn away from the apocolypse and back to Auto Reaper.
"What's going on here?" I ask, pulling Teddy away from the action he's trying to become a part of as the streets become more dead than alive.
"The Zombie Apocalypse," he says. "It's a parade that goes from eight to twelve." He hands me a flier from his pocket.
"It's the End of the World as We Know It," I read the glossy sheet. "Parade, Raffle Prizes and Costume Contests. Don't be Caught Dead Handed... And after the world has ended, clean up your trash." I give it back to him. "What does all this mean?"
"It means this street is closed, so you can't park here."
"There were no signs," I say. "You can't take my car without posting a sign."
He points to the sign.
"That's not a big enough one!"
Just then my phone buzzes in the back pocket of my hot pants. I try to reach for it, but my costume is making it impossible.
"Taylor! Reach into my pants!"
"What, sir?"
"My phone is going off. I can't get it with my paws."
He pats around. "Where is it?"
"The inside pocket."
"You mean actually inside the pants?"
"Yes!" He looks conflicted. "Don't worry there's fur and boning covering all my parts."
He reaches in and fumbles around a bit.
"Just grab it out of the pocket."
"I'm trying, but there's so much matted hair down here covering the opening." He feels around a little more. "Wait! I think I have it."
"That's not it!"
"Oh you're right," he says, alarmed. "I'm sorry, sir."
"Listen, I'd love to witness this little back seat romance," Auto Reaper says. "But, I have other parties to end early."
"I've got it!" Taylor pulls it out and hands it to me. It's Ana. I have to answer. Something could be wrong.
"Hold on a second," I tell the tow guy, motioning for him to halt operations until further notice. He ignores me and continues to motion for the other fucker inside the truck to continue with the theft of my vehicle.
"Press it!" I say to Taylor.
"Press what?"
"The answer button! My wookie fingers don't work with the sensors on the screen!"
He does.
"Ana!" I say, trying to balance the phone on my paw. "Are you okay?"
"Yes, actually I'm feeling better." She giggles all cute and girlish and if I wasn't frozen from the neck down, my cock would twitch. "I have a surprise for you when you get home." Okay, my cock is fighting against the freeze and much like the zombies, it's rising again.
"And I have a few for you." I'm starting to fantasize about Ana in that baby doll lingerie without the panties when I see my Audi being roughhoused. "They're marking my back end!" I whisper shout to Taylor as I watch the metal arms scratch my fender. "Do something!"
"Right away, sir."
Taylor rushes toward the tow truck like he's storming Normandy. I move the kids away from the vehicle in case it gets ugly.
"What's wrong with your back end?" Ana's voice echoes from the receiver. I lift it back to my ear. Fuck, I can't hide anything from her.
"Nothing! I said back in. We're just hurrying to the party so we can get back in time tonight for you to show me your surprise." Good save, Grey.
I look back. Taylor is talking with the guy now, but it doesn't look like peaceful negotiations are working. It's getting a little heated.
"You haven't gone to the party, yet?" Ana asks.
"No..."
"Why not?"
"Why not?" Why not? Why the fuck not? I was on fire for awhile? The kids were missing? The zombies are having our car towed? "We've been having too much fun."
Taylor says something to Auto Reaper and motions with his hands. I've never seen Taylor so animated, except when they get his order wrong at the Chick-fil-A. Auto Reaper yells something, climbs back up into the truck and slams his door. Oh no, they're going to leave!
"Fuck."
"Did you just say fuck in front of the kids?"
"They can't hear me."
"I heard you, Daddy," Teddy says.
"Me, too," Phoebe adds, shaking her finger up at me, still clinging to my leg. "Naughty, naughty!"
"It slipped. I'll take a time out when I get home." Please, God, let me get home and have a time out!
"What's going on there?"
"I don't know."
"Brains!" An un-dead woman says, passing by me.
There are more and more of them coming.
"What's that moaning?" Ana asks.
"What moaning?" Fuck, the zombies are making some sort of communal grunting noise. I never knew the living dead were so vocal and in unison. Is that natural or do they practice?
"I definitely heard moaning," Ana says. I can almost see her arms crossing and foot tapping on the other end.
"It's just the zombies."
"The what?"
"The zombies. It's Halloween. I'll explain later."
They're starting up the engine to the truck! Taylor's trying to open the fucker's door. Auto Reaper's yelling at him from the open window.
"Let me say hello to the kids," Ana says.
"Say hello, kids," I hold out the phone.
"Hello, kids," they say in unison, laughing. Regular comedians.
"Ana, we're in a hurry."
"Don't forget my cupcakes," she says.
Oh fuck. The cupcakes. They're in the car.
"Cupcakes. Good. Love you. Bye." I hang up.
"Taylor!" I say as he approaches in defeat. "What happened?"
"They're driving away with the car."
"I can see that! Why didn't you stop them?"
"I tried everything. He wouldn't budge."
"Did you try bribery?"
He nods.
"What's brib-be-burry, Daddy?" Phoebe asks.
"Giving them a present, so they'll give you one on return."
"Like Christmas?" Teddy asks.
"Something like that."
I turn to Taylor.
"Watch the kids," I say, trying to peel Phoebe from my leg.
"No, Daddy!" She tries to cling. "The zombies is all around."
"Just for a minute, I have something important to do. Cling to Taylor's leg. The zombies are scared of him. He was trained against zombie attacks in the military." She hops from my shin to his.
"Hey!" I yell up to Auto Reaper, waving my arms and running after the truck as it pulls away from the curb.
"Sir, what are you doing?" Taylor calls after me.
"Getting my cupcakes!"
########
"Well, at least he gave you your cupcakes," Taylor says as we walk, carrying plastic Tupperware containers that hold 120 of them. And they're not little fluffy ones, either. Ana made them with thick ass chocolate and fillings. The skull and bat decorations alone must contain lead.
"Only because I jumped on the back of the truck." I had to jump off of it when he stopped for zombie crossing. Thankfully the entire lower half of my body is numb and I couldn't feel when my ass cracked the cement on the way down.
Phoebe is now firmly wrapped around my shin again as we walk. More and more zombies are coming through. I'm so fucking sick of zombies.
"Go back to your lives," I say to the pilgrimage of the graveyard risen as they pass.
"We can't!" one of them shouts. Fair point well made.
We walk and walk, until we finally round a corner to a street that actually allows cars and regular living creatures.
"Are we going to walk forever?" Teddy asks.
"Yes," I say.
The rain's coming down now hard. Phoebe keeps swinging her umbrella and hitting my shin. Every third step, I trip.
Suddenly out if the corner of my eye I see something crawling up my chest.
"Ahh!" I scream.
"What is it, sir?"
"There's a wild animal on me! Get it off!"
Taylor casually picks it off and holds it up for me to see.
"It's Chester, sir." Why doesn't the fucker try and bite him? What are they, besties?
"Sorry, Daddy. I letted him go," Phoebe says. "I only got so many hands." She slams her umbrella into my shin.
"I think we're past the zombies. Why don't you get off my leg and hold him?"
She looks around to check, then jumps off and grabs her rat.
"Sir, a car is coming to pick us up," Taylor says, checking his phone.
"Fantastic! When?"
"An hour."
"An hour? We can't wait that long! We'll miss the entire party!" And I'll probably have drowned by then.
"They're all backed up with Halloween. It's the fastest I can do. Unless I call Gail."
"No! I don't want Ana worrying!"
"I can't wait to tell Mommy all our adventures!" Teddy's says.
"You're not telling Mommy any of this."
"What if she asks?"
"Just stuff your mouth full of candy and give her a thumbs up."
Fuck. How are we going to get to that party on time? This night is a disaster. I don't think it's possible for it to get worse.
A car drives past us, stops abruptly ten feet before the stop sign, then backs up and stops directly in front of us. I shield the children as the tinted window of the electric blue Volkswagen Golf rolls down.
"Christian? Is that you?"
The voice is vaguely familiar, though I can't make out the face in the dark. It's a man and he's got a small head. I step closer and peek inside...
Oh. My. God. I spoke too soon. The fucking photographer.
"Jose?"
"It is you!"
"How did you ever recognize me?"
"I thought I saw the kids and Taylor. What are you doing out here? It's pouring rain." Really? I hadn't noticed.
"Trick-or-treating."
"Where's Ana?" he asks, far too concerned.
"She wasn't feeling well, so she stayed home."
"What's wrong with her?" He's nearly panicked. That's my job, fucker.
"Just a little sick to her stomach. She'll be fine."
"I'll have to call her."
"She can't talk."
"Is it her throat?"
"Yes."
"I thought it was her stomach."
"It's her throat by way of her stomach." He twists his brow in confusion, which is his perpetual state, only heightened. "Gastrointestinal, you know."
"Yeah, gas can hurt." Medical analysis by Mr. Rodriguez.
"What are you doing out here?" I ask. Probably driving up here to park outside our house and see if he can catch Ana undressing in the window or bending over in the garden. P is for photographer and pervert.
"I'm here for the Zombie Apocalypse." Figures. "I'm taking pictures."
"For work?"
"No, just for me. I love zombie stuff." What a weird fuck.
"Well, we won't hold you up if you want to find your friends."
"Uncle Jose!" Teddy yells, running up to the car. Phoebe is close behind.
"He's not really your Uncle, kids."
They ignore me and the 'Uncles' keep flying. Everyone's so fucking delighted to see Jose. Even Taylor waves at him like a schoolgirl.
"Having fun tonight?" he asks them.
"Yes!" I say. We're going to continue the festivities now. Let's go, kids."
"Daddy was on fire!" Teddy says. "And he almost hit the dentist!"
"Kids exaggerate so much," I say.
"And we got our car towed and now we're walking to school in the rain," Phoebe says.
"You're going to school now?" Jose asks.
"It's for a party," I say, trying to pull the children away, but they're like magnets to his window. "We're just waiting for our ride. It'll be along-"
"In an hour!" Taylor says. "We're desperately trying to find another way." He's practically begging.
"I could give you a ride right now," Jose says.
The kids cheer.
"We wouldn't dream of troubling you." I give Taylor a look to halt his theatrics.
"No trouble. I can come back."
"Please, let Uncle Jose take us, Daddy," Phoebe says.
"Yeah, please!" Teddy chimes in.
"Yes, please, sir," Taylor says. Since when did he become such a sap?
Fuck. It's the only way we're going to make it to the school party on time and I don't want the children standing in the rain and getting sick. Jose's going to be the hero of the night... He'll never let me live this down. I was definitely wrong. The night just got worse.
#######
"Still a Volkswagen man, I see," I say, my legs crushed into the glove compartment of this cheap piece of shit. I have to stick my head part way out the window because it won't fit all the way inside. I can't believe I'm riding shot gun to the photographer. I'd rather use another kind of shot gun right now on myself.
"Yeah, I've been selling my photos of the desert a lot, I figured I'd buy myself something real nice. So, my grandmother sold it to me." What is that little old lady, a dealer?
"The desert. Fascinating." I move the manual lever on the side of my chair to push my seat back.
"Ow!" Taylor yells. He's such a fucking titty baby tonight.
"I need some more leg room."
"But, you're backed up nearly all the way to my seat."
"You were in the military, you're used to tight spaces. Scrunch up."
"You saved our whole lives, Uncle Jose," Phoebe says.
"Our lives were not in danger," I say.
"Uncle Jose, your brother Chester wants to say thank you, too." She holds him up and waves his little hand.
"That is not his brother, that's my brother!" The car suddenly gets quiet. I realize I may have said that a little too angry and loud.
No Daddy, today he's your son."
"I was thinking I could come by while I'm here and take some new pictures of Ana and the kids."
"What about me?"
"I was thinking more Madonna and child style. Maybe in the meadow while we all have a picnic lunch when you're at work.
"I don't think so."
"Is she too sick?"
"No. She's feeling better already. I talked to her earlier and she says I have a big surprise waiting for me when I get home." I'm raising my brow, but unfortunately he can't see my face. It's difficult to send drifts out when you're wearing a Chewbacca mask.
"Is she giving you some of her candy, Daddy?" Phoebe asks.
"Yes," I say, pointedly to Jose. "Daddy's favorite kind."
The photographer frowns and turns his attention to the road. He doesn't talk to me the rest of the way. Mission accomplished.
########
"Bye Uncle Jose!" the kids wave, standing outside the car in front of the nursery school.
"Have fun, guys!" he says, then looks to me. "I'll give Ana a call tomorrow. Maybe I'll drop by. It's okay if you're at work." Fucker never quits!
"Oh, don't worry. I'll be home forever." I yell back. "Enjoy the Apocalypse!" I wave as he pulls away.
#######
I hate kids. I don't mean my kids. I love mine; they're everything to me along with Ana. No, I hate other people's kids, probably because they're just little versions of the other people. I correct myself; I hate people in general. I can practically count on my hands the ones that I actually like and most of them share my last name. I especially hate the people at this horny hippie mom ridden preschool. I survived the zombies, but I'm not so sure I can survive this Halloween party.
"Would you like me to hold your cupcakes, sir?" Taylor asks as we enter the lift. Not the elevator, the lift. The kind where you have to manually shut the door, throw a lever and hope you don't get caught between floors. I'm not sure why they haven't put a real elevator in this place. I spend $40,000 a year for the kids to color outside the lines and make macaroni jewelry. You'd think a portion of the proceeds could go to a decent elevator. But hey, what do I know.
"No, Taylor I can manage them myself," I say, balancing the boxes on my open paws. "You're in charge of this contraption and I'm in charge of the cupcakes."
Taylor cages us in, hitting the lever and we ascend slowly. So slowly. At the rate this thing moves we might get to the party by next Halloween, but probably not early.
"Why is my wig all wet and dirty?" Phoebe asks, attempting to put the thing back on her head.
"Because Taylor had to spray Daddy down when he was rolling around in the mud on fire."
"You're funny, Daddy!" she giggles. I wish I was kidding.
We finally reach Kreative Kidz. That's what the pre-school floor is called and that's what's scrawled on the side of the wall in some sort of paint that looks like a kid went to town with crayons. I briefly wonder how this is good for the children's reading skills to see both words spelled wrong immediately upon entry, but again I'm just the guy spending $40,000.
"Stop!" I yell out to Taylor. "We're passing it!"
He presses the lever and looks down.
"It just appears that way. We're not even with the floor, sir. We need to go a little farther up." He presses it again. We go marginally higher and then stop. "We went too far." He lowers the lever and we go down again. He repeats this process another six or 7,000 times. It's like water torture. And I've been tortured enough tonight already.
"Taylor, please!"
"It's particular, sir."
"Here, hold my cupcakes!" I say, putting the boxes in his arms. "Let me do that."
"I thought you were in charge of the cupcakes and I was in charge of the elevator."
"I'm playing a little game."
"What's it called?"
"Musical jobs!"
I take hold of the lever.
"Sir, you have to be gentle with it or-"
I throw the lever and the thing immediately drops a few feet in free-fall.
"Ahhh!" Phoebe screams bloody murder. She's so dramatic.
I throw it back and we immediately come to a grinding halt.
"Or that will happen, sir," Taylor says.
"Well, at least I got us moving somewhere!"
Although somewhere isn't really anywhere at all. I look out of the cage we're in. We're caught halfway between floors. I hit the lever again, but it won't budge.
"I think it's stuck!"
"There's a gorilla in the levitator!" says some kid dressed as a box with colored squares on it, pointing at me in cage of the lift as he runs over. "Are you from the zoo or the wilds?"
"That's not a gorilla!" Phoebe yells out, scrunching her nose against the bars and clenching a fist. "That's my Daddy!"
"Are you a Rubik's Cube?" I ask him.
"No, I'm the 80s," he says, pointing to his sneakers that have cardboard moons glued to them.
"What is that?"
"Moon walk shoes."
"Like Michael Jackson?"
"Who's that?"
"The King of Pop."
"Like soda?"
"No, like the white powder you put in cookies." He scrunches his nose. "Just moon walk down the hall and tell someone bigger than you we're in trouble."
"I know how to do it better!"
"Oh yeah, how?"
He presses a button and an alarm starts to sound.
"Fire drill!" he shouts.
And of course the sprinklers go off.
"Daddy, it's raining inside now!" Teddy says.
"It's like the dark clouds are following us everywhere!" Phoebe says.
"They are, Phoebe. They are."
"Everyone, back away!" That voice! It sounds like a pterodactyl in heat. Oh look, it is one! It's that awful woman whose name I always forget coming this way. The teacher who wears that perfume that smells like cockroach spray, but doesn't manage to keep her away. Tessa? Tammy? Too much Titty and Tummy?
"Hi, Miss Tilly," Phoebe and Teddy say in unison. Miss Tilly! That's her name.
"Mr. Grey," she says, approaching the cage. She's dressed as cat woman, but she's more hiss than meow. The leotard leaving nothing to the imagination that it should. "Are you trying to cause trouble tonight?" She wiggles her tail, almost taking little Mr. 80s out with the wide load swipe.
"Yes, I purposely locked us in here so you'd have to come rescue us," I say, sarcastically.
"Oh, Mr. Grey," she laughs, waving her hand in flirt. "Let me help you, pudding." Pudding? The thought of being her desert makes me ill.
She pops her tits out and presses a button on the outside panel. The alarm and sprinklers cease and the lift rises and levels out.
"Why couldn't you do that?" I ask Taylor.
He opens his mouth to say something, but wisely chooses not to. Instead, he opens the cage door.
"I like your kitty," she says as I exit.
"Excuse me?"
She points to the shrieking arched back black cat on my candy sack.
"Oh," What the fuck do I say to that? "He frightens easily."
"What do you think of mine?" She wiggles her whiskers and bats lashes that look like two spiders battled it out and died.
"I frighten easily, too."
"Ooh, you have the cupcakes!" an older lady who's either supposed to be Little Red Riding Hood's grandma or just herself says as she comes over.
"My wife made them," I say pointedly to Tilly. "Hers is the only cake I eat."
Tilly gets my drift and thankfully walks away.
"Where is Ana?" Riding Hood Granny asks.
"Mommy threw up fish guts all over the poop tank!" Teddy says.
"Teddy! It's not a poop tank! It's a toilet."
"Daddy said poop tank!" Phoebe squeals.
"Kids why don't you check out the cookie table!" Riding Hood Granny says to Phoebe and Teddy and they delightedly scamper off to stuff their faces with more sugar. At this rate they'll be asleep when they're in high school. "And why don't you two set up your display on the table at the back. Station 17."
"What do you mean set up our display? Don't we just put the boxes down and let the kids free-for-all?"
She laughs the kind of laugh that instills fear in an unprepared father's heart.
"For the contest."
"What contest?"
"The kids are judging their favorites. Basically how good the display looks and how good the cake tastes. Don't worry, Ana knew all about it. So, if these are her cupcakes, you'll be fine."
"That sounds simple enough."
She's right. Ana's done all the work. Her cupcakes are beautiful and the best I've ever tasted. Winning this thing should be a piece of cake... Literally.
#######
"Oh my god, Taylor," I say, opening the first box as we set up at the table.
"What is it, sir?" He looks and then gasps, holding a hand to his mouth. "Oh no."
"Oh fuck. Ana's going to kill me!"
The cupcakes are destroyed. I don't mean a bat nose has cracked off or a few are slightly smeared. I mean Cupcake Armageddon! The icing has completely slid off half of them and there's double on the other, but mostly it's just stuck to the lid. Spiders and pumpkins and skulls are broken and strewn about.
"Why is it wet at the bottom?" Taylor asks, pointing at the little river carrying sprinkles and bat wings away.
"I think that's rainwater."
"Maybe we should check the others. There are 120 of them."
"You're right, Taylor! They can't possibly all be destroyed."
We rush to open the other ones. They possibly all can be.
"How did this happen?" I ask.
"I think when you jumped off the truck."
"No, I don't mean how did this literally happen. I mean how did all this shit tonight happen?"
"Well, we got off on the wrong foot with the luminaria guy and then the kids went missing. It's a domino effect."
"It's a rhetorical question! I didn't mean for you to really answer it."
I look down at the carnage. The pumpkin frosting is on a lemon cupcake. A jack-o-lantern has no eyes. A witch's broomstick is floating away on the little river of death. It's so wrong there needs to be a new word for wrong and it sure as hell isn't right.
"We can't enter these in the contest, Taylor."
"We're already entered, sir. Slot 17!"
"Well, at least it's not slot 1."
"What does that mean?"
"We can hide in the back."
I pick up one that's split into two halves and grab a spoon from the buffet table behind us.
"Wait, maybe we can press them together with some icing. Like glue." I scrape icing off the lid, put it on one half and push the two together. "All the colors mixed look kind of swirly."
"Sir, you're getting fur all over the icing."
"Well you do it, then."
"They're too wet," he says, trying my technique. "They all fall apart."
Twin boys dressed as a piece of fried chicken and a waffle walk up and try to poke their heads in my boxes.
"Who are you?" I ask.
"I'm a piece of chicken and my brother is a waffle," Chicken says.
"I can see that. What are you doing over here looking at my cakes?"
"We're judges."
Oh shit.
"Do you count as one vote or two?"
"Hey! We may be twins but we is separate people," Chicken says all pissy.
"I guess it's two then."
"Eww, what's that?" Waffle asks, leaning his head over the box.
"It looks like a fart if it was cupcakes," Chicken adds.
They start laughing. An idea comes to me.
"You wouldn't laugh if you knew what this really was."
"We wouldn't?" Waffle asks.
"Because if you did the zombies might get you, too!"
"Zommies?" Chicken asks.
I nod.
"And you know what this is?" I ask.
They shake their heads in fear.
"It's a cupcake version of the Zombie Apocalypse!"
"What does that mean?" Waffle asks, wide eyed.
"It means this was a normal, pretty cupcake-land where little children like you frolicked and ate sugar and then the zombies attacked and this is all that's left of civilization."
"Cool!" they say with saucer eyes in unison.
"Legend has it, if you eat from it you get zombie powers."
"Really?" Chicken asks.
I nod and they race to dig in.
"Good save, Mr. Grey."
"Let's just walk away, Taylor. Let's walk away."
#######
The party is in full swing. It's a sea of chatter. Kids dressed as everything from dinosaurs to superheroes to wicked witches like their mothers, all screaming at the top of their lungs, strung out on sugar and late bedtimes. Most of the mothers are dressed in inappropriate costumes that don't cover the places I don't want to see. I miss Ana.
"Your costume is cute," a woman in a French maid getup that looks more maid than French says, approaching me as I dip my ladle into the punch bowl. Taylor steps away for two seconds and these women smell fresh blood. I told him not to piss, but he insisted.
"Cute?" I'm soaking wet, dripping with mud and smell like a forest after a fire. "I'm the Beast!"
"Well, I could tell that across the room. You alone?"
"No," I say, filling my glass. "My punch is keeping me company."
She shakes her head and walks away. Why is this preschool suddenly a single's bar?
"Grey!" Walter Allen says, making his short, fat way over to me dressed like a monk. He sure as hell isn't that. More like screw every secretary you've ever had and only marry the ones you knock up. The latest mistake in Phoebe's pre-school class- Alan Allen. He thinks it's funny the kid has the same first and last name, but spelled differently. That boy is going to need serious therapy.
"Where's Ana?" he asks, far too interested in my wife's whereabouts.
"She's home sick."
"While the mice are away, the cat will play," he nudges me in the arm and shimmies a little.
I take a swig of punch, wishing I had brought a flask.
"It's when the cat's away, the mice will play," I say.
"Huh?" He's an idiot. He got lucky when he knocked up an heir to an aluminum siding fortune.
"Why would the cat play when the mice are away?" I ask.
"Because he's free to play with other new hot young mice."
I shake my head.
His kid, Alan Allen comes running our way dressed like the karate kid, swinging some large plastic machete and hitting me straight in the leg. If I wasn't a numb wookie it would hurt.
"Hey!" Walter yells, grabbing the weapon from the brat. "You keep that up, I'm gonna give you a spanking when we get home."
"You spank your children?" I ask, thoroughly appalled.
"You don't?"
"Of course not! I only do that with my wife."
Just then, Teddy runs up, out of breath.
"Dad! Dad!"
"What is it?"
"Phoebe's in a fight!"
"What do you mean?"
"She and Ava are ripping each other's dresses off."
"Ava? Your cousin Ava?"
He nods. I follow him outside to the sandboxes.
"You can't wear my dress!" Phoebe yells, pulling on Ava's skirt.
"I'm princess Elsa, not you!" Ava yells back, ripping a piece of netting off Phoebe's waist.
They're the best of friends until they're the worst of enemies.
"You don't even have real blonde hair. You gots a dirty wig!" Ava says, pulling Phoebe's wig off.
But, my little girl doesn't back down. She pulls Ava by her real hair and yanks it.
"Girls!" I yell, running to them.
"Fight, fight," some kids chant.
"Your dress is so cheap!" Phoebe says, ripping off a sleeve partway. "It tears without even scissors."
"Yours is the cheapest!" Ava says, ripping a piece of Phoebe's shirt. "And you have an ugly rat!"
"Back off from Chester!" Phoebe says, holding him close.
"Girls!" I yell again."Stop!"
The other children scatter. I'm not sure if it's because they fear getting in trouble or that a creature that looks like he fled the black lagoon is coming their way.
"Daddy, she's wearing my costume!" Phoebe says, whimpering.
"No, Uncle Christian, she's wearing mine!"
Both girls are crying now.
"Girls, you shouldn't fight over costumes. There can be two Elsas."
"There can?" Phoebe asks.
"Of course. You're both unique in your own ways."
"No we're not!" Ava says. "I'm a better one."
Phoebe swings. I catch her fist just in time.
"Phoebe do you love your cousin?"
She thinks about it.
"Mostly."
"Ava, do you love Phoebe?"
"When she isn't kooky."
Phoebe lunges. I hold her back.
"Girls, what's more important than silly Halloween costumes is that we're family and we love each other." Why do I sound like a sit-com Dad all of a sudden on a very special episode? "Now, hug and make up."
"But, Daddy-"
"Hug and make up."
They reluctantly do. I can see Phoebe's hand reaching to pull off the netting on Ava's back and I lift it away before she can.
"That right bro," I hear Elliot's voice from behind me. "Two of the same costume is cool."
I stand up and turn around. It's like what I'm seeing is in slow motion- brushed fur, blue tails, real black pants.
"The Beast..."
"Surprise, bro!"
He's the fucking Beast! And not a British Chewbacca one in hot pants like me, he's the real thing!
"Where did you get that costume?"
"That guy you told me about. Gunther?"
"Gunther Imperial?"
"Yeah, that's the guy."
"You took the last Beast!" Suddenly those memories of him stealing my candy come flooding back and all I can think of is revenge.
"Why you-" I lunge for him.
"Hey! Back off!"
We fall to the ground, wrestling. I tear the sleeve of his jacket. He rips out some of my fur. I can hear the kids clapping and giggling. They think this is fun, but this is war!
"You think you can steal my costume and get away with it?"
I yank his beard.
"I didn't steal anything!"
He punches my arm.
"Just like you never stole my candy!"
"What candy?"
"The great hold up of 1996!"
"You mean like this candy?" He reaches for my sack that's fallen to the ground.
"You wouldn't dare!" I wrestle him for it.
"Boys!" I hear a voice straight from Satan's lair. Kavanagh. "Stop it, both of you! Or I'll use the hose."
"You don't scare me, I've already been sprayed down tonight."
"Sir, what's going on?" Taylor yells, arriving at the scene.
"Redemption!"
"Boys stop! The children are watching!" Kate yells.
We both stop immediately. No matter how mad we are, we don't want the children to see this.
I look up and I'm about to apologize when I see it. Kate is Belle!
"You're wearing Ana's costume?" I point. "What, did you find out what we were going as and just press the copy button on the machine?"
Elliot and I are both trying to get to our feet, but it's impossible in these costumes to stand up by yourself.
"Where is Ana?" Kate asks.
"Mommy's sick," Teddy says.
"From that rotten sushi you made her eat," I add. I look to Taylor. "Help us up!"
After some effort, he pulls Elliot and I to our feet.
"What do you mean rotten sushi?"
"Your lunch today. That tuna roll made her sick."
"I shared the tuna roll and I'm not sick."
"She has a more delicate stomach than you." Satan is immune to poison.
"Daddy?" Phoebe says, tugging on my arm. I look down. "Do you love Uncle Elliot?"
"What?"
"I said, do you love Uncle Elliot?"
I think about it.
"Mostly."
"And Daddy," Ava says, tugging on Elliot. "Do you love Uncle Christian?"
He thinks about it.
"When he's not being kooky."
"Well, dresses aren't important, it's mostest important that we love each other as a family and share our costumes," Phoebe says, trying to repeat my words from earlier, but adding her own flair. "Hug you two brothers!"
Phoebe and Ava push us two Beasts together. We look at each other and reluctantly do so.
I notice that Elliot has candy in his pocket. I reach my hand in about to steal it when I feel Phoebe grab my paw and pull it away.
"Hey!" Riding Hood Granny yells out to us. "The winner of the contest is being announced." Oh God.
"Did you enter?" I ask Elliot.
"Nah, me and Kate don't cook." Figures.
We walk inside and three little girls dressed as cupcakes are standing behind a podium too tall for them about to announce the winner. I'm suddenly grateful they aren't announcing losers.
"The winner is..." The smallest one opens what's supposed to be an envelope, but is just a folded over napkin. "Some Bee's Apple Lips."
Everyone looks around. Who the hell is that? A caramel apple display?
Miss Tilly is asking Chicken and Waffle what they wrote down. They walk over to the table and pick up my box.
"Zombie Apocalypse," I scream. "That's us!" I say to Taylor. "We won!" I throw my paws in the air in victory.
And right there at that podium in front of my children, my family, Taylor and all the people I hate, I'm presented with a medal proclaiming me the winner of Halloween.
#######
"They're finally asleep," I say, stumbling into the master suite, heading straight for the bed and falling back onto it in an unceremonious thud. With all that sugar and excitement, it took three whole readings of Goodnight Moon before the kids said Good Night Dad.
"Where's your mask?" Ana asks, stroking my naked head. Not the one I had imagined she'd be stroking when I got home, but somehow in this moment this feels better.
"I gave it to Teddy to add to his trash collection." Facing the ceiling, I close my eyes. All I see are zombies and spiders and rain soaked wookie men running through a land of battered cupcakes. "Oh Ana, how many more years of trick-or-treating do I have left?"
"At least twelve."
"Twelve?" Is she crazy? I turn my head to look at her and it's an effort, believe me. "Phoebe and Teddy won't go door-to-door when they're sixteen and eighteen." I'll be hiding out at parties by then trying to thwart drinking and kissing... Oh god, maybe there is a fate worse than trick-or-treating.
"Don't you want to get out of your costume?" she asks.
"Yes."
"Why don't you?"
"I can't move."
She laughs.
"This isn't funny. I feel like I've been in battle." I'm not sure if I won or lost, but I definitely fought the war. "All I can say is, thank God we only have two kids."
She stops stroking my hair. Did I say something wrong? Is she going to be sick again?
"How are you feeling?" I ask.
"Much better, actually," she says, her voice soft.
"Good. Hopefully you've seen the last of it."
"Probably not," she sniffles. She's crying!
"Ana, what's wrong?" I put my paw to her chin and turn her face to me. "What is it, baby?"
"I have a surprise for you," she hiccups a sob.
"And it's upsetting?"
"Not for me. But I don't think you'll be into it."
I wipe her tears with the side of my paw.
"Don't cry. I'm just a little tired, but my troops can rally."
"Rally for what?"
"For sex."
"That's not your surprise."
Damn it.
She pulls out a box from the drawer of her nightstand and hands it to me.
"When you told me you had a surprise for me, I never thought it would be wrapped up in a box. Well, not this kind anyway."
"Just open it!"
I untie the bow, lift the lid off the package and remove the tissue paper. What I'm left with is a long white stick with a digital screen.
"Is it a thermometer?"
"Read the screen!" she points to the tiny digital monitor.
Two blue lines. My world stands still.
"Ana, is this what I think it is?"
She nods, hesitantly.
"You're pregnant?"
"Yes."
I look back at the screen and the two blue lines.
"With two boys?!"
"What?"
"The lines."
She shakes her head. I guess the blue lines don't represent that.
"How did this happen?"
"You know how!"
"No, I mean you're on birth control."
"Antibiotics."
"What?"
"For my ear infection six weeks ago. They can interact." Ana and I are the only two people more likely to get pregnant on birth control than off.
"Oh Ana," I sweep her into an embrace.
"You're not mad?" she asks, pulling back, breathless.
"Mad? I'm ecstatic!"
I can't stop planting kisses on her face.
"But, you said you only wanted two."
"That's before I knew we were having three." I kiss her again. "So it's not your sushi, it's your baby?"
"Our baby." she says and I kiss her again. "Your mother came over and when I told her the symptoms she had me take a test."
"My mother knows?"
She nods.
"Oh Mrs. Grey," I move my mouth to hers and deepen our kiss, not able to keep my paws off her. The only thing I want to do right now is make love to my wife- the love of my life, the mother of my children...
"Mommy, Daddy?" Teddy says, the door creaking open as he walks inside.
I jump off of his mother.
"What is it?" I ask, glad my erection is hidden in this thing.
"I can't sleep. Can I crawl in with you?"
"Are you sure you wouldn't be more comfortable in your own bed?" I ask, hoping.
He shakes his head.
"Of course you can fall asleep with us," Ana says.
He run over, jumps on the bed and snuggles between us.
The door creaks again.
"Chester and I can't sleep," Phoebe says, walking into the room.
Damn the candy!
"Let me guess, you want to sleep with us?" I ask.
She nods and with a running leap makes her way onto the bed.
I look to Ana, our two kids and Chester separating us, but somehow I've never felt closer to her.
"Rain check, Mrs. Grey?"
"Definitely, Mr. Grey," she smiles.
And that Halloween night we fall asleep, just the six of us.
"Owwwww!" I scream in the dark.
"What is it, Christian?" Ana says, waking suddenly.
"Chester bit my neck!"