The week before Halloween, Grandpa bought tons of candy and hid it so we wouldn’t be tempted to eat it before trick-or-treating started. I looked all over the house but never did find it. Grandpa wouldn’t reveal the hiding spot, but did say that he moved the candy several times. I noticed that some of the bags were open when they finally came out of hiding. He’s a sneaky one, that Grandpa. Grandma was her usual cranky self.
She walked into the living room just as I jumped up to hang from the doorframe.
“Cara, get down! How many times do I have to tell you?”
I hopped down and cracked my knuckles.
Grandma winced. “We’re shutting off the porch light at eight o’clock. I’m only giving out candy to the little ones. Those big kids are nothing but trouble coming round here in the middle of the night. Norman, you bought too much candy again.”
Nick was going to a college party with his brother, but Kaitlyn said she wasn’t into dressing up. (I could see why, she did it everyday.) We decided to hang out at Kaitlyn’s house and pass out candy. Her parents had their own party to attend.
“My mom went as Cat Woman in this slinky-dinky outfit. She kept twirling her tail and meowing and rubbing up against my dad who was dressed as a flasher. Trench coat with shorts on underneath, I hope to God. They’re so disgusting.”
It was a perfect sweater-weather night. Cool and clear. The moon shone through the skeleton tree branches, porch lights lit up the street. We passed out miniature chocolates to miniature princesses, ghosts, and a string of cartoon characters. Later in the evening, Nick stopped by on his way to the party.
I wouldn’t have recognized him if he had just walked by. He was dressed all preppy with a pink oxford over a pastel-yellow polo shirt with the collar flipped up, and a sweater tied around his shoulders. Tan chinos with shiny penny loafers. The only clues to his previous identity were his purple black hair and the ever-present hemp necklace.
“What do you think of me now?” he said, turning around to model his outfit.
We cracked up. “What did you do, raid your dad’s closet?” Kaitlyn said.
“Yes! I did. Just call me Chip the Third. Where’s my tennis racket?”
Too funny. He continued, “Come with me. I’ve got extra clothes, you can go as Buffy and Muffy. No wait, you guys should just switch clothes. Cara’s already got the prep thing going on.”
“Hey,” I protested.
“She’s not a prep,” Kaitlyn said. “She’s got more of an REI thing happening. Or Moosejaw.”
“True,” Nick said. “She could be one of their cover models.”
“What’s Moosejaw?”
“A local shop,” Kaitlyn explained. “They always have funny ads with hot, au naturel adventure girls.”
“Oh please.” I rolled my eyes. I could see Becky on a magazine cover. I was just one of the guys.
“You’re no stranger to photo shoots,” Nick said. “You’re in the climbing magazines.”
“I was climbing, not posing.”
“Whatever. Are you two having another sleep-over? Another pillow fight in your-”
“Give it a rest,” Kaitlyn said and whizzed a miniature Hershey’s at his chest. “What do guys do when you sleep over? Sit around in your boxers having burping contests?”
“You ever see someone light a fart on fire?” Nick said.
“You. Are. Disgusting. Go away!” We pelted him with more candy bars, and he jogged away, laughing.
We retreated to the house with a handful of candy each, leaving the rest in the bowl on the porch for the late crowd.
“You sure you don’t want to go to the party?” I asked.
“Not me. You?”
“No. I don’t really get into stuff like that.”
“Me neither. Not anymore anyway. I used to go with Josh sometimes, but…”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She shook her head. “You’re the sophisticated world traveler. You’ve probably been to some awesome parties.”
Ha! Maybe I had experienced different things than Kaitlyn and Nick and others who never really left their hometown. But sophisticated?
“I’ve been all over with my parents, but we usually camped. We weren’t high-styling luxury travelers. I’ve learned a lot about other cultures though.”
“Like what?”
“Like, there are German words that we don’t have at all. A single word that captures an entire idea. Like, waldeinsamkeit.”
“Bless you,” Kaitlyn said.
I laughed. “It means forest solitude. Thoreau used hundreds of words to describe that, and the Germans just sum it up in one perfect word. And did you know that in Chinese there is no such word as ‘coincidence.’ ”
“Really?”
“Yeah. So think about the meaning of that. That nothing ever happens just by chance. There’s a reason or some sort of force or energy behind it.”
“God?”
“Maybe. God, spirits, angels, nature, fate. The Chinese call it yuan. Destiny. But I guess it depends on what you believe.”
“I don’t know what I believe,” Kaitlyn said. “But it’s interesting. Like with us. The way we met. It seemed like a random event, just a coincidence that you sat at our lunch table and we started talking. But maybe there was more to it. We were meant to be friends. Something drew us to each other.”
“Exactly,” I said.
“Do-do-Do-do.” Kaitlyn wiggled her fingers. “Spooky.”