Halloween colors, orange and black, gave way to shimmering slate on Thursday night as twilight fell over the rolling Virginia countryside. Those trees without leaves appeared outlined in charcoal, and the conifers swayed blue and silver. The pin oaks, dried leaves still attached, rustled in the light breeze. When the wind lifted their leaves upward, the pale underside contrasted with the tree’s dark bark. Then as the wind died down, they turned right side up.
As the sun set, the actors for the Halloween Hayride met at Random Row’s middle schoolhouse, along with the starter, Lolly Currie; Neil, who would keep reports on traffic midway through the hayride; and two boys charged with keeping the goblins lit. The number of people totaled thirteen, the ideal number for a Halloween drama. While they reviewed their parts, a molten sky faded to blue velvet.
“Darkening of the moon,” said Wesley. “What luck. We can scare the pants off everyone.” He laughed as he glanced out the long windows.
“You do that anyway, Wes,” Neil remarked.
Tazio focused on the task at hand, once more reviewing the night’s plans. At her side was Lolly, with a duplicate schedule on her clipboard. “Okay,” said Tazio. “First hay wagon leaves from the barn at seven P.M. After that, the wagons leave at ten-minute intervals and we have …”
“Ten wagons plus foot followers,” Paul reminded her, and Tazio was grateful for the strong man’s presence at her side.
“Why are people going on foot?” Wesley wondered.
“Some people like to walk and some groups won’t all fit in the wagons. We’ll put the children in first and have the adults walk alongside the wagons,” Tazio replied.
“How many people can we expect tonight?” Cooper had just finished putting on her Jeepers Creepers costume.
“Three hundred and twenty-one,” Tazio said. “That’s how many bought tickets. That doesn’t mean all will come out. The library also received contributions from over one hundred people who won’t be here. After expenses, we net over twenty thousand dollars. Pretty good. Paul, we can’t thank you enough for getting the horse-drawn wagons and drivers to contribute their services, and Reverend Jones, you organized the truck-drawn wagons. We have four of those. They’ll be good backups if a problem arises with the horses.”
“I trust the horses more than engines,” Reverend Jones replied.
“Okay. First scare, after Lolly gives the initial go-ahead. The wagon rolls by the schoolhouse, Dr. Frankenstein has the monster on the table.” She glanced over at Buddy Janss, a credible if rotund Frankenstein’s Monster. “Buddy breaks the bands, rises up, chokes Dr. F after a suitable struggle, then flees the building, running into the cornfield, threatening folks on the wagon. Then he runs back into the corn and sneaks into the schoolhouse, gets on the table, and does it all over again.”
Lolly read from her schedule, “After that, ‘glowing goblins and ghosts flutter through the cornfield as the wagon progresses.’ How you guys made those things work, I’ll never know.”
“Pretty much the same way you make a jack-o’-lantern.” Paul smiled at the two high school boys who had created the goblins and ghosts. “They’re lit by LEDs, and they go up and down, back and forth on wires, using the tiny battery packs in their backs.”
Brows wrinkling for a moment, Tazio asked Neil, “No one using candles tonight, or torches?”
“No, too dangerous,” said Neil. “We have a fake torch at the end, when the monk”—he nodded to Reverend Jones—“calls the spirits to order and points the wagons toward the old Mount Carmel Church, where it all ends festively.”
“And safely,” the reverend reminded them.
“All right,” said Tazio. “After the goblins and ghosts, Frankenstein’s Monster should be back in the schoolhouse, ready for the next wagon. Okay. Now, the first wagon goes between the two big trees on either side of the dirt lane.”
“That’s my cue.” Cooper smiled in her Jeeper Creepers costume. “And given that I need to get hooked up to a darned cable, I’m leaving now.” What she didn’t say was that Dabny, who would fasten her to the guy wire between the trees, would be observing from an old farmside road along the edge of the cornfield, ready in case trouble occurred.
From her perch in either of the trees she would swing between, Cooper would have as good a view as possible, given it was five days after the dark of the moon. Both on-duty officers would have cellphones, but should a cellphone not properly work, Cooper and Dabny also carried a piercing whistle.
“Once people recover from the Jeepers Creepers scare,” said Tazio, “they round the bend and the Headless Horseman gallops toward them before going into the open-air shed, disappearing from the hay wagon’s sight. Is there any way to throw a pumpkin for a head from there?” Tazio asked her boyfriend.
“It would scare the driving horses,” said Paul. Despite his assigned role, his head was always screwed on straight. “Basically, I’ll be running toward them, then veering off. We did set out a jack-o’-lantern on a fence post about a quarter of a mile down the road from me and Dinny.” He named his horse, a lovely old hunting fellow who had done it all, seen it all.
“Neil, you’re all in black near the shed,” said Tazio. “If the wagons need to move along, you call Lolly. Hopefully, no one will see you as our secret traffic manager.”
“Right.” Neil nodded to Tazio.
“The wagons pass the hayfield, large rolls stacked together. There will be a green-eyed goblin on top—again courtesy of our high-tech guys. Then, the evil Jason and his chainsaw, meaning you, Blair”—she tipped her paper toward Little Mim’s husband—“will jump out from behind the tall obelisk in the graveyard.”
“And I’ll turn on the ghost noises and wails from the graveyard before I jump out,” Blair added with enthusiasm.
“We’ve got lights on one bony arm coming up from a fake grave—we didn’t want to desecrate a real one,” said Tazio. “We were going to have a witch in the graveyard, but after Hester’s death that seemed insensitive.”
“Good thinking,” Neil complimented her. “Jason beheads the vampire, Count Dracula, who is the undead, so of course he just puts his head back on.”
“You’ve always had a good head on your shoulders.” Reverend Jones laughed at Barry Betz, the batting coach whom Cooper had started dating. Barry would portray Dracula this evening.
As Cooper had talked him into it, everyone assumed the relationship between them was heating up. They were right.
“Any questions?” asked Tazio.
“We aren’t allowed to drink inside the meeting room at Mount Carmel, right?” Wesley asked.
“Now, Wesley, when has anyone been allowed to drink inside a church building?” Reverend Jones winked at him.
“Right.” Wesley smiled.
“The second hay wagon, the one pulled by the team of Belgians, has a full bar under the driver’s seat, since we knew how parched some of you can get from your labors.” Tazio smiled broadly.
“Belgians …?” Neil looked for direction.
“The cream-colored draft horses,” Paul informed him.
“Ah.” Neil nodded. “I’m glad to know the Belgian is a horse of a different color.”
“We’ve got this covered,” said Tazio. “It’s going to be the most exciting Halloween Hayride this county has ever seen.” She laughed. “And I’m the Fallen Angel who appears as the hay wagon reaches Mount Carmel, holding up a crucifix to our vampire, head back on, who shrinks and screams in horror, vanquished at last. Hey, we’ve thought of everything.”
“What about the kids who wet their pants?” Wesley joked.
“That’s up to Mom and Dad. By now they should know to bring Handi Wipes and towels.”