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A Treat for a Lifetime

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“DO, TI, LA, SO, FA, ME, RE, DO!”
That was exactly what I heard approaching the house of the World’s Most Hectic Person.
“Jumping, jumping munchkin jelly doughnuts!”
My head fell into my hands. Oh, boy, I thought, I am sure in for a rough night.
“I’m sure in for a rough night,” said my dad.
You see, father and daughter, our minds think alike. I approached the steps cautiously and tiptoed up the steps. But, of course the Worlds Most Hectic Person can also hear very well, and she flung open the door.
“She’s here, she’s here! Call the police! Call the fire department! Call my dog! Call the bakery! Call my school! Call Johnson’s Arts and Crafts! Call Newman’s Bagels! I WANT DOUGHNUTS!”
It was very clear that Lorraine Hudson had eaten a lot of sugar, and I was positive that candy would not help in the slightest. Mrs. Hudson came down the wooden, polished stairs.
“For heaven’s sake, Lorraine,” she said, “there’s no need to scare Ella.”
“I don’t scare. I only surprise and seriously frighten.”
Same old Lorrie, I thought, always rephrasing what she does 24/7.
“Here’s your trick or treat bag,” said Mrs. Hudson, handing a bag to Lorraine.
“Gracias! De Nada! Pingüino! Mushrooms are good. No, wait, they’re nasty. Speaking español is fun. But I was also speaking English. I like multi-tasking. POTATOES!!!!”
Lorraine sprinted out the door and flapped her hands. “It’s a small world after all, I eat pie all day long, I’m going trick-or-treating until I fall, it’s never, never, ever going to end! BA!”
We started down the street Euphrates. “Trick-or-treat!” Lorraine and I chorused at the first house.
I didn’t have any Halloween jokes that made sense, so I used one of mine that made no sense. “A hippo, rhino, three cats, seven dogs, two elephants, and five cheetahs are gathered under an umbrella. How many get wet?”
“How many?” the man at the door asked.
“None. It wasn’t raining.” I said.
The man nodded in confusion. But then he recognized me.
“Oh, you,” he said, “I should have expected that.”
Lorraine and I had trick or treated at his house many times before, since I was in first grade, and this was my fourth year visiting his house.
“What does a cat call Halloween?” Lorraine asked.
“What?” asked the man.
“The Purrrfect night.”
The man laughed and handed us each two pieces of candy: a Hershey’s bar and an Almond Joy.
“Let me see,” he said, “last year you two were both…hmm… you both were the same thing. You had leotards on. Hmm... were you two ice skaters?”
Lorraine and I both giggled. “We were gymnasts,” I said, “I was Shawn Johnson, and Lorraine was Nastia Luiken.”
“But you were still close,” said Lorraine.
We moved on to another house that recognized us, too.
“Oh, look, they’re Hermione and her cat,” cooed one of the adults.
“I remember when they were a cat and something else, but I can’t quite remember who you were,” another woman said, gesturing to Lorraine.
“I don’t know who I was either,” Lorraine shrugged. We gave our jokes and we were rewarded with candy.

For the next hour and a half, we trick or treated until I was tripping over my robe and Lorraine was lolling her head on my shoulder.
We trooped back to Lorraine’s house. “Farewell,” called to each other as our parents dragged us away. On the ride home, I thought about all my Halloweens with Lorraine. We’d spent our favorite holiday together for four years now. We had been remembered by her neighbors, and most important of all, we had thought of our ideas together.
I couldn’t wait for the next Halloween.



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