HARPER PULLED BEAR AGAINST HER CHEST AND LAY STILL, LETTING HER eyes adjust to the darkness as she recalled the events of the last twenty-four hours: After climbing through the window and falling asleep on the couch (the first time), she’d awoken to the realization that she’d missed watching her friends get on their bus, and then she’d slumped on the couch, overwhelmed with loneliness, and tried to watch TV, only to remember there was no electricity. She’d searched the kitchen again, found nothing, and opened one of the warm Cokes from the fridge. She took a long sip and licked her lips, savoring the sweetness as the bubbles fizzed down her dry throat. Finally, driven by hunger, she’d slipped out the back door, snuck through the yards, and used the key Cora kept under her mat to let herself in. In the fridge, she’d found a sandwich all made, and even though it was tuna—her least favorite—she’d devoured it; then she’d filled a plastic bag with snacks she hoped Cora wouldn’t miss—a roll of Ritz crackers, a bag of potato chips, two apples, and three juice boxes. She’d hurried back to Mr. Peterson’s, praying no one saw her, and locked the door behind her.
Now, she realized she must’ve slept all afternoon because the apartment was dark and she was hungry again. She heard voices outside and knelt on the couch to look. There was a large group of kids walking along the sidewalk dressed in costumes, and she suddenly realized it was Halloween!
She slumped back down on the couch, feeling worse than before—she was missing out on all the fun . . . and all the candy! She wondered what Rudy was wearing, and if she’d recognize her. She peeked out the window again, hoping to see her friend, but there were only younger kids walking by. She was trying to decide what to do, when she heard the gate squeak open. Her heart pounded as she listened to voices getting closer. Suddenly, the doorbell rang and she almost jumped out of her skin. She sank into the couch, her heart pounding harder as she listened to a commotion outside the door. The doorbell rang again, followed by loud banging on the metal storm door. “Trick or treat!” a voice shouted. “Yeah, smell my feet!” shouted another. “How the heck can you not be home on Halloween?”
Harper swallowed, praying they’d leave. Instead, someone kicked the door, and called out, “Anyone got any eggs left?” Several voices shouted they did, and then the ensuing silence was filled with the sounds of laughter and eggs smashing against the window.
“Hey! Cut it out!” a man’s voice shouted.
Harper held her breath and closed her eyes as the kids ran off, and even though she could hear their voices fading, she didn’t dare look. She just rubbed her chest, held on to Bear, and listened to her stomach growl.
She lay back, thinking about what she could eat. She knew she had the crackers and chips she’d borrowed from Cora, but the thought of free candy was making her mouth water. She picked up the flashlight she’d found when she was looking for the TV remote, turned it on, and pointed it at the floor as she walked into Mr. Peterson’s bedroom. She opened his closet door and shone the light on the shelves, looking for something—anything—she could use for a Halloween costume. The weak beam of light landed on an Atlanta Braves baseball hat—maybe she could be a baseball player! She continued to look and found a wooden bat in the front corner of the closet—which, she surmised, could double as protection, too, if she needed it. She put the hat and bat on the bed and opened a bureau drawer. It felt creepy to be looking through the belongings of someone who had died, but she really wanted to go trick-or-treating. She rummaged through the drawers with one hand while holding the flashlight with the other. Finally, she found something—an old Atlanta Braves jersey. She pulled it out, spilling several other shirts onto the floor at the same time, and shook it open. It was big, but it would do. She turned it over, spread it out on the bed, and shone the light across the number, 44, and then looked more closely—someone had written something with a magic marker above the name, but because it was script, she couldn’t make it out. “I bet he was mad about that,” she whispered as she pulled the shirt over her head.
Ten minutes later, with the bat in one hand, a plastic bag in the other, and the baseball hat—adjusted to its smallest size—on her head, Harper peeked out the front window. All was quiet, so she let herself out the back door, walked around the end of the unit to the sidewalk, glanced up and down anxiously, and quickly crossed the parking lot to the units on the other side. Another group of trick-or-treaters was just leaving so Harper hurried to get to the door before the woman closed it.
“Oh,” the woman said in surprise. “I almost didn’t see you,” she added, dropping a handful of candy into Harper’s bag.
“Thank you,” Harper said, peering into the bag.
She hurried off to the next door and knocked, and when the woman opened it, she held out her bag. “Trick or treat,” she said hopefully.
“Look at you!” the woman exclaimed. “Bill! Come on out here! You’ve gotta see this one!”
Harper shifted her feet nervously as an elderly man made his way slowly to the door.
“Wow!” he said, smiling. “If it isn’t Hammerin’ Hank!”
Harper frowned—who the hell was Hammerin’ Hank? Her shirt said Aaron.
“Well, young man, that’s the best costume we’ve seen!” the woman sputtered happily. “You get two Snickers!”
Harper shook her head. “I can’t have Snickers—I’m allergic to nuts. Do you have anything else?”
“Oh, hon, I’m sorry. That’s all I have. . . . I thought everyone loved Snickers.”
Harper nodded solemnly. “Okay. Thanks anyway.” She turned to go and the man called after her. “Great costume, kid!”
Harper hurried to the next apartment, but just as she was about to knock, she heard voices and turned to see another group coming along the sidewalk, and among them were Rudy and Joe! Harper also recognized the girl next to Rudy—it was Lana the hairstylist’s daughter, Kari, who looked so much like Rudy, she could be her twin. Kari Thomas and her mom and brother had moved there from Mississippi. She’d been in the same class as Harper before Latisha had pushed her. She and Kari had even sat next to each other, and when Harper couldn’t find her pencil, Kari had given her one and told her to keep it.
“But then you won’t have one,” Harper said, astounded by her kindness.
“That’s okay. I have a pen,” Kari said, producing a pen from her pocket.
Harper started to wave to them, but then remembered she shouldn’t be seen . . . and they were heading right for her! She ducked behind some bushes and watched them walk to the door. She could make out all the costumes now—the boys were both dressed as pirates, Joe wearing the same costume he’d worn to the Pirate Festival on Tybee Island (Harper had seen the picture on Cora’s phone), and Rudy was a purple Crayola crayon (her favorite color), while Kari was an angel with shimmering white wings.
“So they haven’t found her yet?” Kari asked, sounding worried.
“No,” Rudy answered. “They even had a search party today.”
“They think someone might’a kidnapped her,” Joe added authoritatively, and Harper suddenly realized they were talking about her!
“That’s awful,” Kari said in a voice that sounded genuinely dismayed. In fact, she sounded so sincere, Harper almost stepped out to assure them she was okay.
“My mom’s really upset,” Rudy said, pointing over her shoulder. “She won’t even let us go trick-or-treatin’ in the neighborhood by ourselves.”
Harper looked over and saw Cora pulling her coat around her as she talked to Lana. She looked very tired, and Harper suddenly felt sad—she hadn’t realized people would miss her enough to search for her. She hadn’t meant to hurt anyone or make them worry . . . especially Cora.