That One Guy at the Halloween Festival

Cheap masks and Halloween themed clothing were the only ‘costumes’ at the Sprucer Halloween Festival. People in barely decorated Trunk-or-Treat trunks shoved canned food and/or random secondhand objects into kids’ hands. The ‘craft stations’ were several ancient fold-out tables someone had covered in literal trash.

Only one man was all smiles and high energy as he strolled about the scene with his sons. His sunshiny attitude brightened up such activities as accepting cans of beets from Mrs. Whitley and cutting Jack-O-Lantern faces into duct-taped soda bottles. In such hard times, it felt so good to see and hear such a man. I started stalking him around the festival just to absorb some of his energy.

But when I heard and saw him telling his sons a tale of hitching a ride on his school’s parade float, I realized it. His eyes never focused on his sons, other people, or any of the surrounding objects. He’d often interrupt the story, look into empty space, and greet Sprucers who had long since passed or ‘escaped’. And, most bizarrely, he’d often go act out a story scene in a place far away from his sons.

Feeling freaked out, I left the man alone. I never saw him again. Now he remains a memory that resurfaces every Halloween.