Halloween Firean original story by Beth Durkee
“What are you doing, honey?” asked Alonso as he entered the kitchen. Just before dawn on Halloween, he wanted a cup of coffee before he headed out to sell the rest of his pumpkin crop. As she did every year, his wife, Maria, would bring out his breakfast while he waited for customers.
This morning, up early to begin the day, he was surprised to see Maria's face pressed up against a window, her hands cupped around her eyes.
“Come over here,” she waved, excitedly grabbing his forearm as he approached.
Dragging him closer, she pointed across the street, “Does that look like fire?”
Now it was Alonso's turn to stare out the window, as Maria awaited his verdict with large eyes. In the blackness before dawn, across the acres between houses and amidst dark silhouettes of trees, Alonso's throat closed as he saw the flicker of a slim, orangish glow. Unable to see clearly from the distance, he stepped close to the window to try to determine whether it was a fire.
Minutes passed as Maria held her breath, watching Alonso squint through their kitchen glass. Finally, he stepped back. Her eyes silently begged a decision, but he only tightened his lips. Heading to the shoe rack, he pulled on his boots, stating, “I'm not sure. I'm going over to check.”
“Why don't you just call?” Maria asked, fumbling in a drawer. A small, leather telephone book emerged in her hand. Opening it, she held it outstretched, simply stating the names of the neighbors, “Jeff and Cindy.”
Alonso smiled as he took the book, silently reflecting as he pressed the numbers on the telephone how lucky he was to have such a wonderful wife. Maria smiled back. Did she know what he was thinking? He wondered.
“Hello?” answered a man's voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Jeff. We were just looking out our window and we... well, are you burning in your yard? There is a bright glow between your trees on the East.”
“Hold on,” the voice directed. The phone clattering to a table, then quick footsteps, could be heard over the receiver.
Moments later, Jeff returned. With an exhaled breath, he picked up the phone, “No fire. It is just the light you had installed last week for your flagpole.... But... why can't you see that from your own window, Jim?”
“Who's Jim? This is Alonso, your neighbor across the street.”
Jeff looked at the phone in his hand. He shook off the chill up his spine with a shiver as he hung up the receiver to peer out his front window. There stood Alonso and Maria's house, what was left of it. Pumpkin vines' twisted growth around its charred and crumbling walls served as an ever-present reminder of the Halloween blaze that had claimed its owners' lives three years ago.
2011 copyright Beth Durkee
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If a cold chill just crept up your spine, then this story has served its purpose. Feel free to share it with anyone you like. (Just please leave my name and title at the top.) An emerging and self-published author, I enjoy stretching my creativity towards readers I hope will soon begin recognizing my name.
Please have a safe and happy Halloween ...and be sure to check your caller ID before picking up the phone. ~ Beth Durkee
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