Chapter 8

Dinner was great and the food was delicious. When everyone was finished eating Sara and I got the dishes done quickly, thanks to the help from Amy and Mary. After everything was put away, the four of us hurried upstairs to get our costumes on and got ready to go trick-or-treating. The three girls went to Sara’s room to dress and I headed to mine to get into my storm trooper outfit. I had just pulled a long-sleeved black shirt over my head, and as I was preparing to equip the molded white chest, arm, and shoulder pieces, I heard a gasp followed by giggling from Sara’s room. They were talking about something, but I couldn’t make out anything they were saying.

I had just finished making sure the whole costume was strapped on securely when Mary came racing into my room in a Dorothy costume from the Wizard of Oz. The blue and white checkered dress looked amazing on her, even if she was wearing a white undershirt so she was fairly covered. Her makeup had been done so that she looked like she had just left the stage of a play. In a word, she was gorgeous. She even had a stuffed puppy that looked a lot like Toto. Her dark hair didn’t quite fit the look, but she had curled her hair and she looked stunning.

“Holy cow, Sam! Did you see your sister’s costume?” Mary asked me in an excited but also worried sounding tone. “She looks amazing but there is no way your mom and dad are letting her leave the house in that. Nope, no way Jose. I really like your future army uniform thingy.”

“It’s a stormtrooper uniform!” I replied.

“I’ve never seen Star Trek; how should I know?”

“Star Wars, not Star Trek!”

“Whatever, they’re the same thing. You still look cute.”

“They’re not ... wait ... uhh ... thanks.” I really wanted to correct her. Star Wars and Star Trek were not the same thing at all, but she wouldn’t understand.

I couldn’t help but smile at the look on Mary’s face. She was both panicked and equally excited as her eyes scanned my room and then flicked back to the doorway, as if she expected my parents or someone of authority to show up any moment. Instead of my parents, it was Amy who walked in looking like she was the Wicked Witch of the West, fake nose, green face paint, and broom in hand.

“Wow, even my sorority girlfriends back home wouldn’t have the balls to wear that outside,” Amy said as she walked into my room.

“It can’t be that bad—” I started to say when I was cut off by Sara walking, or better put, sashaying into my room.

“It can’t be what, Sam?” Sara asked, striking a pose with hand on hip cocked to the side dramatically.

“Holy shit!” was all I could muster seeing Sara standing in front of me all dressed up.

“Is that good or bad?” Sara asked, suddenly a bit self-conscious as she shifted a bit and clasped her hands in front of her.

“Umm—”

“Sam!” Amy growled and I suddenly had something blocking my ability to swallow.

“You uh,” I was tongue tied and my mind was racing with things to say but nothing would come out. “You umm ... err ... you look incredible Sara. Amazing. Seriously.”

“Really?” Sara asked, looking down at her costume and then spinning around in place to show me everything. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, not trusting my voice.

The Princess Leia costume looked like it was originally created for Sara and only her to wear. Her breasts superbly filled the metal looking top with mesh looking wirelike fabric. The fake gold chains that connected the front and the back of the bottoms hung perfectly off her hips. Her flat stomach was on full display for everyone to see and admire. In the front was a gold pendant that had a thin, maybe a foot wide, piece of maroon cloth that lung down to her knees, doing very little to be anywhere near what someone would consider modest.

It was obvious looking at her that she had nothing underneath the cloth. I was pretty sure when she tried on the costume before, however briefly, she was wearing panties. Now though, she wasn’t. Mary, Amy, and Mom were right. There was no way she was going to leave the house looking like that. I suddenly had the urge to keep her locked in the house myself, regardless of what Dad said when she finally showed him downstairs.

“Let’s go show Dad,” Sara announced and walked out my bedroom door, but stopped at the top of the stairs. She was waiting for the three of us before she headed down. “Come on Sam, I need you to help me.”

The look she was giving me, her little innocent smile, and the way she cocked her head and wrung her hands in front of her ... I would do almost anything for her when she did that. She looked cute, sexy, but more importantly, she knew it.

“I don’t think me being there is going to help you,” I said, shaking my head. “It’s one thing for us to be at camp, or here at home, but you know Dad doesn’t want us to be naked outside. Mom had to beg him to build that little privacy area you and she use to tan when the weather warms up.”

“I know, I know. Does that mean you aren’t going to help me?”

“I didn’t say that, but I don’t think this is a good idea. Mom was right.”

“Don’t say that!”

“Did you look at yourself in the mirror?” I said as if it should have been obvious that her costume wasn’t appropriate for trick-or-treating.

“Of course I did, but—”

“Fine, let’s go.” I cut her off walking past her down the steps. “Don’t tell me I didn’t tell you so.”

Dad must have heard me coming down the stairs because he was watching and waiting for us to appear. When I did, a silly, cheesy grin spread across his face seeing me in a full-on storm trooper outfit.

“Put on the helmet!” he told me excitedly. He is a Star Wars fan himself, a Han Solo guy through and through.

I smiled as I put on the helmet, and he gave me a big two thumbs up. Just then Sara stepped off the stairs and into view of Mom and Dad. Mom and I were right, and it was evident immediately when Dad saw what she was wearing, or not wearing to be more specific. Sara stood in front of Dad. She beamed her daddy’s little girl smile and twirled for him and that’s what made up his mind.

“Go upstairs and put something appropriate on,” Dad said, his tone flat as he pointed in the direction of her room.

“But Dad—”

“No buts,” Mom laughed at the unintended pun. “Get up there and change into something else.”

“I don’t have anything else...” Sara pouted.

“You can wear mine.” Amy stepped forward and put her hand on Sara’s shoulder, which seemed to surprise her.

“But then you can’t come with us.”

“It’s okay, I’m too old for trick-or-treating.” Amy smiled warmly at Sara, and then turned and winked at Mary who suddenly looked panicked. “I will stay here with your mom and dad and wait for the three of you to get home. Come on, let’s go upstairs and then you can have my outfit.”

“Thank you, Amy,” Mom told her from her spot on the couch behind Dad. “That’s very sweet of you and I would love to get a chance to get to know you better.”

“Ugh, this is so unfair!” Sara whined and stomped her foot like a five-year-old.

Her face was red with what I assumed was anger, but it just as well could have been embarrassment. The thud of her feet as she pounded on each step up the stairs made me grin. It was all I could do to not to bust out laughing. Amy followed Sara, with Mary right on her heels, both trying to remain stoic. That left me with Mom and Dad to wait for Sara to get changed with Amy and Mary’s help apparently.

Mom and Dad must not have had my restraint when it came to reacting to Sara’s outburst, because they both started to chuckle. I turned my head, glancing in their direction and all three of us were grinning at the outburst Sara had just displayed in front of everyone.

“I tried to tell her, but she wouldn’t listen,” Mom explained.

“And you still let her buy that?” Dad asked, his face showing the shock he felt. “I can’t believe it even got this far.”

“She was adamant that you would say yes, so I let her try.”

“She really did, Dad,” I chimed in. “I told her you would say no, Mom did too.”

“This isn’t camp, she can’t go parading around the neighborhood in that!” Dad said, shifting his focus back and forth between me and Mom.

Dad just shook his head as he sat down in his usual seat on the couch. Mom quickly slid in to lean against his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. I waited a few seconds, thinking the girls wouldn’t take that long to get ready, but I was wrong. I ended up on the loveseat waiting, not so patiently, for the girls to come back downstairs. When they finally did come back, I was engrossed in one of my favorite movies, The Goonies. It was the wishing well scene, and Andy was just accused of being a Goonie.