Chapter 28: Scary Monsters (And Super Geeks)

October 31, 1980

I love Halloween. I always have. I loved trick-or-treating and it crushed me when we lost several years of it. It started with the ‘Candy Man’ incident, where a father murdered his own son, and tried to poison several other kids, attempting to collect life insurance and cover up the crime. Even though he was caught soon after, it terrified parents. Then the razor-blade apple scare hit. This all tarnished Halloween for years.

Eventually it perked back up, and I was happy. Later in life, I made a point of decorating for Halloween and held many Halloween parties.

Going to a Halloween dance? A Halloween game? This was awesome!

We all wore our costumes to the game. There wouldn’t be time to change afterwards, particularly not for the more elaborate costumes. The weather had finally figured out that it was late October and was quite cool. Cold, even. Leia, Lois, Frankenstein’s Bride, and the Lioness were all wearing coats. The guys toughed it out.

This was a non-district game against a good team. We started off lethargic. Maybe the cold? Maybe clinching district? Didn’t matter. We couldn’t tackle on the kickoff and they got past midfield. We couldn’t tackle on the drive and they made the end zone in 5 plays, one of which was a dropped pass.

We couldn’t run, we couldn’t catch. We could kick, at least. Our punter was MVP of the first half. We went into halftime down 21-0 and it could have been worse.

At halftime I got to talking with Dan and lost track of time until the second half starting gun pulled me back to the game. “Damn! I needed the restroom! Tell them to not screw up again until I get back!”

He laughed. I gave Candice a warm kiss and smiled to her. “Doing OK?”

She nodded. “I’ll make it without your warmth until you get back.”

Angie giggled. “Come snuggle with me. And Dan.”

“Hussy!”

“Yeah, so? Get over here, anyway.” She did.

“Hot chocolate anyone?”

“Me!” “Me!” “Me, too!” “Us!”

I walked down, rubbing my hands, and headed into the unheated restroom. I wasn’t looking forward to a freezing toilet seat. But when you gotta go, you gotta go.

I settled onto the seat with a groan and tried to listen to the game through the window. I hoped the cheering was from the correct side of the stadium. It didn’t seem likely.

Then, I was trying to block out the game noise. I’d heard people come in and head to the urinals. Apparently empty restroom — who looks under the stall doors? They sounded a little inebriated, too. I supposed that might loosen the tongue.

“So, left side punch thing, right?”

“Cauldron, yeah. Avoid that one. Center and right are fine. Left is our little surprise for the freshmen. And the sophomores, most of ‘em anyway. Fuck ‘em unless you’re fucking ‘em.”

“How much?”

“A bunch of bottles of Everclear. They’ll never know what hit them.”

“And the empties are where they’ll get noticed?”

“Yeah, under one of the freshman tables.”

“Any trouble?”

“Nah, there’s almost no one at the gym now. Everyone’s at the game. All they had to do was say that they had some last-minute decorating ideas. Teachers will go for anything that’s free student labor.”

What the fuck? These guys deserved trouble. Lots of it. But all I needed was some teacher deciding I needed praise and their idiot friends would beat me to a pulp, better shape or not. I needed a plan.

I heard them leave and took a chance, rushing to the door somewhat disheveled. I got there in time to spot the two. I didn’t know their names, but I could describe them well enough. Then I dashed back in, flushed, and fixed my pants.

I went over to the concession stand, hopping up and down to stay warm, and ordered sixteen hot chocolates. The woman looked at me like I had two heads, but fetched drink carriers and lids. I got them balanced and stacked just right and walked back very carefully, making sure no one ran into me.

The crowd was loud, but I couldn’t see anything between balancing the hot chocolates and trying not to trip. When I was halfway back up, Mark spotted me. “Hey! Steve needs help!” Mark, Morty and Emily got up and each grabbed a drink carrier. We got back up and distributed beverages to our freezing friends.

Once we had them distributed, I turned around and gawked at the scoreboard. Um ... what the hell? The game was 21-14, and we had the ball on their 20 yard line. I sat down and scooted in close with Candice.

“What the hell?”

Dan laughed. “Well, while you were taking one for the team, bringing us warmth, they had to punt. We ran that back. Then they fumbled the ensuing kickoff, and we recovered on the 30 yard line. Their thirty, I mean. The next play was a pass and boom, touchdown. We kicked off, they lost five yards and went three and out, we fair-caught the punt, but then we broke a couple nice runs and here we are.”

Another perfect pass right down the middle tied the game a minute later. I’m sure both teams were thinking this was a bad dream.

“Guys, I need to borrow Mel for a minute. We’ll be right back!”

“Ooh, mysterious,” Candice giggled. “Just the way I like them!”

Mel and I walked up higher to get behind the crowd. I went over what I’d overheard.

“I can guess who’s responsible. They’re going to claim freshmen smuggled in the booze and probably try to point to me if they can. They’ve got it in for me, and Mark and Morty by extension, and Emily because she’s with them. They’re pissed because I actually got freshmen to go to the Homecoming dance. Some seniors think it should be upperclassmen-only for everything except maybe Sadie Hawkins. I guess recent freshmen reps have just gone with it and not tried to advertise or get word of mouth.”

“OK. Well. Fuck. I can’t involve you then...”

“Yes, you can!”

“No, I can’t. The last thing we need is you off the committee or, worse, in trouble. Or Mark and Morty getting smacked. Mrs. Higgins would love to use that to prove that they were immoral mischief-makers all along.”

“They are immoral mischief-makers.”

“Yeah, but she doesn’t know that. She just thinks she knows it.”

Mel snickered. “OK, fine. But what can you do? They’ll say you heard the plan from me and are trying to frame them.”

I nodded. “I got a good look at the two who were talking and can describe them. And no, I’m not telling. I think I have a plan. It’s going to be tricky. There’s one way I think I can make this work, and that’s getting a teacher to believe me, and to either stop it or put the fear of god into those two before they realize how anyone found out.”

She bit her lip, thinking. Then perked up. “You’re going to Mr. Myerson, aren’t you?”

I nodded. “He’s the only guy that I’m pretty sure will listen to me, not figure it’s some scheme to get you off the hook, and might recognize them from their description. And he won’t rat me out. And no one can really pressure him to rat me out.”

“So, what do I do?”

“Nothing. I think he’s here, somewhere. They said all the teachers are chaperoning here, not there, because no one’s there. If I can’t find him, I’ll see if I can somehow get there before everyone else. Otherwise, anyone hits the punch, and this escalates fast.”

She nodded.

“Oh, one other thing. If it doesn’t get handled before you see me again, just ... distance yourself. Get everyone seated in the sophomore section or something. If someone makes you move, make sure it’s obvious that they picked where you moved to.”

“Good idea!” She hugged me. “Thanks for taking this one for me, Steve. I’d have turned them in myself. I still think I should. You’re right, though. They’ve probably put this plot together hoping to tie it to me.”

We went back down. I hugged Candice. “I’ve gotta run, honey. I’m not ditching you, it’s just - I have to do this now.”

Mel chimed in, “He does.”

“And, I love you too much to take any chance you’ll get burned. Just let me go be big strong protector brute and I’ll explain later. And dance with you all night.”

She grinned. “My hero!” She kissed me, and I was off.

Looking for one teacher in a crowded stadium, at night, when it’s freezing, sucks. And, as the old saying says, ‘it’s always in the last place you look.’

I looked up and down and all around, checking section by section. Then I went down and looked around the concession stand. No Mr. Myerson. Maybe he was at the school?

Then I caught a break. Mr. Hoff happened by. He didn’t know me from Adam, but I knew him. He was both good-natured and absent-minded. He might remember that some kid asked him something, but what, and whether it was a boy or a girl? He’d forget before I was out of sight.

“Mr. Hoff?”

“Yes, um ... do I know you?”

“No, Sir, sorry, but I recognized you. I’m trying to find Mr. Myerson. Do you know where he might be?”

Asking the absent-minded professor where someone might be is ... questionable. But it’s all I had. Mr. Hoff came through with flying colors. “Oh, yes, Tom. Great guy. He’s over near the south gate. Now that they’re not checking tickets, people try to sneak booze in.”

I smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Hoff!”

Sure enough, there Mr. Myerson was, smiling at me as I hurried over. The stadium had erupted in cheers. I was dying to know what was happening.

“Mr. Marshall! What brings you this way? Not interested in the game?”

“Oh, no, Sir, I’m dying to know what’s happening. But I was looking for you, Sir.”

He shook his head. “No need to be so formal. Call me Tom. Now, what can I do for you?”

There was no way in the world I was calling him Tom, now. As a senior? Maybe.

“Well, it’s complicated. OK, no it’s not. It’s simple, but, the people involved complicate it.”

He nodded. “That’s the way the world usually is.”

“I’ve burned my bridges with Mrs. Higgins, and by extension some other teachers. I went to the bathroom just after halftime ended.” That seemed to amuse him — heck, it would amuse me under other circumstances. “While I was there, freezing, two guys came in. I got a look at them, after. I believe they were seniors. Anyway, they said that someone spiked the left-side punch cauldron — which mostly freshmen and sophomores will use — with quite a bit of Everclear. They’re passing word to avoid it amongst the seniors. They’ve stashed the bottles somewhere — I’d guess under a freshmen table — and my hunch is that they’re planning on blaming the freshmen, maybe a specific freshman, for it.”

He frowned. “Miss Riley, no doubt.” I nodded. “You keep interesting company. That is a good thing.” I smiled.

“What did your two conspirators look like?” I described them. Halloween both helped and hindered. One was a large, beefy guy who was going as a lumberjack, I’m pretty sure. Flannel shirt and pants. Short brown hair. The other was smaller, but also sizeable, with a crewcut, dressed as a carnival strongman. Neither costume impressed me, but they played to their strengths, at least.

Mr. Myerson nodded. “I have a couple ideas. Thanks for bringing this to me. You’re certain they didn’t see you?”

“Positive,” I said, nodding.

“You’re worried that, if you just reported it, they’d think you were in on it and got cold feet, or that you knew you were caught and were trying to slip out of it.”

“Exactly. That, and if my name came up, they’d want revenge.”

“Your name won’t come up. If your story falls apart, that’s different. But I’m pretty sure that won’t happen.”

“Thanks!”

“Let’s see what happens tonight. It may be amusing. And unpleasant for the culprits.”

I waved, smiled, and headed back up. When I got back up to the seats, there were five minutes left in the game and the score was tied 35-35. The other team had the ball and were moving. I gave Candice a hug, then went over to Mel.

“Damn, you’re missing a great game, Steve. It’s been wild.”

“I found ... you know who. He says he’s working on things. Either he believed me or I’m dead meat, but I’m pretty sure it’s the former.”

She laughed. “Yeah. I’ll lock horns with Higgins. Him? Hell, no.”

“Fortunately, you probably don’t have to.”

“Yeah, ‘cuz I’m not a prudish asshole.”

I grinned. “If you were, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, because we wouldn’t be friends.”

“I knew I liked the way you think!”

I moved over and snuggled in with Candice. “You missed all the stuff!”

I nodded. “My stuff is wild too. I think — I hope — it’s handled. I don’t know how yet. I’m keeping quiet.”