Chapter Three
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After[/i] pulling to a stop behind the bank, Agnes adjusted the rearview mirror to focus on the faces of her two young children. Nathan was sitting slumped on the seat, his eyes averted from everything but his hands in the wake of his anxiety. Natalie, who appeared curious, at least, crouched beside the window, peering cautiously over the rim. There were costumed children running back and forth, their parents and guardians in tow. The youngsters laughed merrily as they waved their festive pails and bags in the air.
A little girl dressed in a witch costume very much like Natalie’s suddenly sped by her side of the window. Natalie had just enough time to distinguish between the girl outside and the one in the rearview mirror. Natalie couldn’t help comparing the girl’s radiant complexion to her own pallid one. The dark circles under her eyes were nowhere to be seen on the flawless face of the other little girl. She seemed perfectly at ease in her surroundings, while Natalie sat, too petrified by the thought of rejection to even open the car door.
Natalie suddenly felt so awkward in the costume she’d been so proud to wear just twenty minutes earlier. She scowled at her reflection.
Mommy didn’t even have to buy me a costume…I could’ve just been a ghost. Now I just look like I’m wearing two
costumes.“Mommy, can we go home?” Natalie asked. “I changed my mind. I don’t feel like trick-or-treating no more.”
“Yeah, me neither,” said Nathan, his eyes still glued to his hands.
Agnes twisted in her seat to meet the eyes of both her children—she had been prepared for this. While Natalie was able to amuse herself with an assortment of imaginary playmates, Nathan formed attachments to inanimate objects. Neither had friends their own ages to speak of. The only people they ever communicated with were their parents and the doctors, and occasionally the less threatening inmates. But mostly Natalie and Nathan kept either to themselves or close to their mother. It was no life for anyone—particularly ones so young—and so it came as no surprise that they suffered consequences in the form of poor social skills.
“But I thought you
wanted to go trick-or-treating,” Agnes said.
“We do,” Nathan insisted. “But…”
“But it’s
scary out there,” Natalie elucidated. “What if the other kids make fun of us? What if…what if nobody likes us?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. What reason could
anyone have to make fun of you, or not like you?”
The siblings looked at one another, as if searching for some shared abhorrence that echoed silently in their eyes. When they saw nothing, they extended their hands toward each other. They never took their gaze from the other as they laced their respective fingers together.
Agnes didn’t need to ask to know it was her children’s way of providing the other with courage for what lay ahead. She was relieved to see that Nathan’s hostility toward his sister had evaporated since leaving the asylum. He was taking his role as Big Brother seriously now, and Natalie certainly wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
“Mommy, we changed our minds,” Natalie said.
“Yeah,” Nathan agreed. “Now we
want to go where those other kids are going.”
“Uh-huh. If they’re getting candy, then we should get candy, too, right?”
Delighted that her children had decided to set aside their anxiety for an evening of fun, Agnes smiled as she swung open the driver’s side door. She circled the vehicle and let Nathan and Natalie out, clutching each by the hand.
Nathan glanced around the parking lot, whose trees and vehicles made it hard to believe there was any candy nearby. He wondered where the kids whizzing by were getting it from. “Where are all the houses, Mommy?”
“Why, they’re just up ahead,” Agnes said. “You just don’t see them yet because of all the bushes and trees.”
“How come we have to walk?” Natalie asked. “Won’t it be faster just to drive?”
“Well, the houses here are all spaced very closely together. So the time we spend getting in and out of the car we could have gone to two or three houses.”
“I don’t mind walking, but I think I’d rather skip there.” Holding tightly to her mother’s hand, Natalie began to skip along, swinging her pail back and forth in unison. The wind was much warmer downtown than it had been back at Addams Asylum, yet still strong enough to catch the layers of her dress. Intently she listened to the familiar rustling sound that followed:
Swish. Swish. Swish. Nathan, so as not to have his own ability overlooked, was quick to mimic his sister. His pumpkin costume, which was made of polyester stuffed with cotton, made no sound. However, no one could look at him and not smile at the way the costume bounced around him with each skip. “Mommy, Mommy, look! I can skip, too!”
Agnes tore her eyes away from Natalie to watch Nathan, who often required more attention than his sister. If he didn’t receive what he felt was an adequate amount, then he was likely to react with temper tantrums. Tantrums that could last up to an hour unless someone either stopped him or he tired himself out. There had been plenty of occasions where his screams had even been mistaken for those belonging to one of the interns.
Agnes gave Nathan one of her warmest smiles. “Yes, Nathan, I can see that.”
“Am I a good skipper, Mommy?”
“Yes, Nathan, you are truly magnificent!”
He beamed, as if his mother’s praise was the greatest reward of all—which, according to him, it was. “I love you, Mommy!”
“I love you, too, sweetheart.”
Nathan stopped skipping to release his grip from Agnes’ hand and throw his arms around her. As he did, he and Natalie saw that they had come to the first of several streets. As their mother had promised, each side was lined with multiple houses. All had been decorated in celebration of the holiday, from jack-o-lanterns on the steps to paper decorations hanging in the windows. Just as they had observed back at the car, trick-or-treaters of various ages and genders were running in all directions. While the Finch siblings were eager to join in the fun, their upbringing continued to hold them back. Each took a step closer to their mother, their tiny hands adhering to the material of her cloak.
“Would you like me to go with you?” Agnes offered, and the children nodded.
“Can we go to
that house first?” Nathan pointed to a small cottage on whose porch sat an enormous jack-o-lantern, its candle-lit glow beckoning him forth.
With the hands of her son and daughter clasped in her own, Agnes escorted them to the house Nathan had requested. “Nathan, since you chose this house, I think it’s only fitting that you be the one to ring the doorbell.”
“Doorbell?”
“Yes. See, it’s just like the communicator at home. Except instead of speaking into it, you just press it.”
“What happens after that?” Natalie asked her mother.
“Well, then someone comes to the door.”
“Oh.” Agnes’ explanation intrigued Natalie, who grinned. “Can I press the button?”
“I already told Nathan
he could. But I promise you can press the one at the next house.”
Addams Asylum didn’t have a doorbell. Not unless you included the communicator at the gate, which connected to the offices of Doctors Audrey and Arthur. Both Natalie and Nathan had been granted the opportunity to speak into the communicator on several (and separate) occasions. Most would find it odd that children as old as five and six weren’t familiar with the word ‘doorbell’. But they would find it deeply disturbing that children so young were well acquainted with the term ‘electric chair’.
Because the doorbell was several inches out of either child’s reach, Agnes picked up Nathan so he could press it. Only a few moments went by before the door swung open to reveal a woman dressed in a black leotard and stockings. Attached to the back of her leotard was a long, black tail. On her head she sported a black headband with pointy black ears. Her nose had a dab of what looked like pink lipstick, and on her cheeks painted in what must have been eyeliner were black whiskers.
“A kitty cat!” Natalie had a fondness for cats, and it was this fondness that eased her anxiety enough to mingle with someone she’d never met before.
The woman smiled as she offered a large bowl filled with candy to the little girl. “My, but aren’t you perceptive,” the woman giggled. “Is it my imagination, or are you a witch?”
“Yeah, I’m a witch. I’m a
good witch,” Natalie added as she recalled
The Wizard of Oz, which she’d recently watched on cable with her mother. She took a handful of candy and dropped it into her pail.
“Well, you’re certainly the most adorable witch
I’ve ever seen. What’s your name, honey?”
“Natalie.” She raised her hand and pointed to Nathan, who stood cowering beside Agnes. “And that’s my brother, Nathan. He’s the one who rang your doorbell. My mommy said I could ring the bell at the house we go to after this one.”
“Did she, now?” The cat lady smiled at the children and at Agnes. “Well, I’ll bet your brother would like some candy, too, wouldn’t he?”
“Yup.”
“Here you are, Nathan.” The cat lady extended the bowl of candy to him. “Take as much as you’d like.”
“Just make sure you leave some for the other trick-or-treaters,” Agnes advised.
“That’s certainly a terrific costume you’ve got on,” observed the cat lady, when Nathan’s hand failed to extend forward. “I’ve seen a lot of pumpkins this evening, but none as cute as you.”
Smiling shyly, Nathan stuck his hand inside the bowl. He came back with two miniature Nestles Crunch bars and a Kinder Surprise, which he dropped into his pail.
“Now, what do you say, Nathan, Natalie?” Agnes asked.
“Thank you,” they chorused, though Natalie’s voice rose clearly above her brother’s mumble.
“You’re very welcome, dearies,” said the cat lady. “Good-bye now, and happy Halloween.”
The cat lady closed the door, and Agnes conducted the children on to the house next-door. A group of children—most of whom were older than Natalie and Nathan—had already gathered on the front porch. The door opened to reveal a little girl around twelve years old. She was dressed as a fairy princess while she offered a bowl of candy to the trick-or-treaters. Nathan and Natalie occupied their places near the side of the house, clinging to their mother. Once the hoard of other children had tumbled down the steps and hurried on to another house, Agnes guided her own forward.
The doorbell on this house was low enough so that Natalie didn’t require her mother’s assistance as Nathan had. As she rang the doorbell, an ominous cackle that was apparently part of a Halloween prank sounded. It made the children and even Agnes laugh. Finding this fun, Natalie went to press the bell again, only to have Agnes discourage her. “You’ve only to ring it once, Nattie.”
“But…but what if nobody heard me?”
“I’m sure they did. You just have to give them time to answer the door.”
“If they don’t answer it soon, then can I ring the bell again?”
“Well, if no one does, then we’d probably have more luck at another house.”
“Aw, Mommy, I like
this house!”
Aside from the doorbell, Agnes didn’t see what was particularly special about this house. It was nowhere near as extravagantly decorated as most of the others on its street, save for the jack-o-lantern grinning in the window. Nathan struggled to loosen his grip from his mother’s hand, in order to have a closer look at the pumpkin.
“Besides,” Natalie went on, “I don’t wanna go nowhere until I see the fairy princess. I didn’t see her so good the first time.”
Suddenly the door swung open and the girl in the fairy princess costume reappeared. She had on a pink tutu over a matching pink leotard with pink stockings and pink ballet slippers. Her hair was pinned back in a style similar to that of Dr. Audrey’s, but with a silver tiara that held it all in place. Tucked beneath the girl’s arm was a huge bowl overflowing with a variety of candy.
“Trick-or-treat!” greeted Natalie and Nathan, his voice again so meek that it was barely audible.
“Oh,” the fairy princess said. “I’m sorry. I thought those were the last kids I’d see for a while, so I went into the kitchen to refill the bowl. I hope you weren’t waiting long.”
“I like your doorbell,” Natalie said, as she took a cherry-flavored lollipop and a large Tootsie Roll from the bowl being offered to her. “It’s really neat.”
“Thanks, it was my dad’s idea. He insists it was no trouble, even though it took him all afternoon to install it. He’s sure gonna have a hard time tomorrow, though, when he has to take out that bell and put the regular one back in.” Her eyes then drifted to Nathan. “What about you? Would
you like some candy, too?”
“Nathan,” said Agnes, pushing her son gently forward, “go ahead.”
“H-how many can I take?” he asked, looking at his mother and then at the fairy princess for confirmation.
“However many you want.” The girl smiled, pushing the bowl closer. “Dad bought too much candy this year as usual, so we’re pretty overstocked.”
Nathan took a moment or two to decide, before finally settling on a marshmallow pumpkin and a small bag of candy corn. Candy corn had always been his favorite, as it was the first Halloween candy he’d ever eaten. He and his mother even provided bags to both Doctors Audrey and Arthur, along with the interns, every Halloween. Nathan wondered if Agnes ever let Natalie help her, or if it was a secret shared just between him and his mother.
The siblings thanked the fairy princess and then turned with their mother to leave. “If you’re still in the neighborhood in an hour or so,” the fairy princess called after them, “come on back. There’s sure to be plenty of candy left over.”
“Where are we going next, Mommy?” Natalie asked.
“I thought we could keep to this side of the street for now,” Agnes said, “and then head down the other when we’re through.”
Natalie looked at Nathan. “What kind of candy did you get?”
Nathan peered into his bucket. “I got two Nestles crunch bars, a Kinder Surprise, a bag of candy corn, and a marshmallow pumpkin.”
“I’ll trade you two Hershey bars and a Snickers for your marshmallow pumpkin.”
“No!” Nathan held fast to his pail, as if he thought his sister might steal what he considered the most desirable candy in the entire world. “It’s mine!”
“Aw, come on! I just said I’d give you
two Hershey’s and a
Snickers.”“You could have gotten a marshmallow pumpkin, too, Natalie,” Agnes said. “But you chose the lollipop.”
“Well, that girl
did say we could go back. I’ll just run back now and tell her I want a marshmallow pumpkin.”
“I’m sure there are other houses in this neighborhood that are giving out marshmallow pumpkins. We’ll check those first, and if none have any, then we’ll stop by the other house on our way home.”
“But we just
came from that house,” Natalie whined, “and it isn’t far. If you don’t wanna take me, then I’ll just go myself.”
“Natalie, no. It’s dark, and you know I don’t like you wandering off by yourself.”
“Please? I promise to come right back.”
“Absolutely not. What if you get lost?”
“I
won’t. Please, Mommy? I just gotta have a—”
“I said
no, Natalie. Now stop acting the martyr and come along.”
Even as she obeyed, Natalie pouted. She walked silently beside her mother, trying to conjure ways in which to get her hands on her brother’s prized marshmallow pumpkin.