I had just distributed candy to the first trick-or-treater, a shy but sweet angel, and waved to the angel’s mother standing out near the curb, when Janey came downstairs wearing my wedding dress. “Is this okay?” she asked.

I was taken aback. She looked beautiful in the gown, much better than I ever looked in it, not that I ever wore it for real. “It’s beautiful, honey. You’re beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom, you’re the best,” and she stepped past me and out the door.

“Wait,” I called. “Where...?” I shook my head and was about to set off after her when I spotted her cell phone on the hall table. I snatched it up. Two princesses and a diminutive witch were at the front door. I quickly dropped a Snickers in each sack and scanned the street. Janey was almost all the way down the block, striding into a beautiful October evening: mild temperatures, a harvest moon rising, red and brown and golden leaves falling on the hordes of skeletons, gypsies, zombies, and superheroes, more and more of them, advancing upon my door. I set the caldron of candies onto the porch. “Here, help yourselves, have them all, but don’t be greedy,” I said, and clutching Janey’s cell phone, I hurried out after her.

The long white dress should have slowed her down, but it didn’t. She fairly flew. After five blocks I was no closer, and I was too breathless to call out. Maybe I could have, but I admit I was a little curious where she was off to in such a hurry. A Halloween party in the neighborhood, I suspected. Otherwise she would have been picked up by one of her girlfriends or she would have asked to borrow the car. I tried without success to think of the last time she’d asked me to drive her to a friend’s house.

The next thing I knew we were on the train platform—Janey at the far end—and the 6:15 commuter into the city was just pulling in. Janey stepped onto the lead car. I stepped onto the last. Men and women in costumes filled the seats, heading into the city for Halloween revelry. I’d planned to walk through the cars to get to Janey’s, but I didn’t have the energy, and when I spotted an empty seat, I sat. A moment later the conductor appeared. “Tickets, please, tickets,” he called out. I shrugged. “I guess I don’t have one,” I said. “Forgot my purse it seems.” He shook his head, a slight, grave, side-to-side movement. “I’m so sorry,” I told him. “I guess I’ll just be getting off at the next stop, okay?” The conductor nodded, a small bobbing motion, his frown turning into perhaps a paternal smile. I got up and retraced my steps down the aisle. When the train reached the next station, I climbed off, the conductor holding my hand to help me down.

Now I’d have a two mile walk back home. I didn’t know if I was up for it. Aha, I thought. I have Janey’s phone. I can call a cab. But before I could act on that thought, I saw Janey down at the other end of the platform, skipping down the steps and off and then walking briskly down one of the residential streets. Once again I set off after her. It was almost dark now, but the white gown shone in the moonlight, making her easy to trail. I made no effort to close the gap between us. Rather I kept to the shadows, stepping cautiously past clusters of kids in costume. Several blocks later the houses came to an end. A rugged stone wall too high for me to see over ran along the abutting street. Janey had turned to the left, but now she was nowhere to be seen. I hurried to the left, following the wall, and almost at the end of the block, embedded in a recess, was a black iron gate. On the other side of the gate a paved path led up a hillside filled with tall tombstones. Janey was walking up the path’s middle. Someone was walking with her. I tried to place him. From this distance in this light, I couldn’t make out any details, but something about him looked familiar. I’d need to get closer.

I tried the gate. It didn’t open to my pull or push. By now Janey and her companion were almost to the top of the hill. The gate was taller than the wall, with forbidding iron spikes studding the top. It didn’t seem possible Janey could have climbed over, certainly not wearing the wedding dress. I stood there trying to think. The street was quiet. The cemetery was quiet. I gathered my resolve, stuffed Janey’s cell phone in the back pocket of my jeans, and attempted to scale the gate.

It wasn’t easy, but by bracing my back against the wall and climbing the end post of the gate, I made it to the top of the wall. I sat there, resting. Janey and her companion were not in sight. I hung from the gate’s crossbar, lowered myself full out, and let go, trying to land like a cat. I landed more like a pumpkin, falling back onto my butt. It hurt, partly because I don’t have the most padded of butts, but mostly because I crunched Janey’s cell phone. I cursed under my breath for my carelessness. Janey loved her cell phone probably more than she loved me. Maybe it was okay. Maybe I was okay. I didn’t take the time to find out; I set off up the path in the direction Janey had taken.