The woman who answered had silver hair pinned behind her head and tiny pumpkins printed on her apron.
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For a moment, she just looked at him.
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Then she put a hand over her mouth.
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“Oh,” she said. “Look who's come.”
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Arvin held out his bucket.
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“Trick or treat.”
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She bent to look inside.
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“Well, that won't do.”
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She dropped in a handful of wrapped sweets. Then she went back for another.
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“Wait here. I've got biscuits.”
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Arvin waited on the doorstep while she called through the house.
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“Arthur! We've got a little one!”
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A man with a walking stick appeared behind her. He had a small white moustache and a paper witch's hat that kept sliding over one eyebrow.
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“First this year?” he asked.
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“First in a long while.”
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Arthur smiled at Arvin.
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“You'll have to help us eat everything, then.”
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At the next house, an old man gave him an iced biscuit shaped like a bat. Across the street, a woman in a purple cardigan offered him a sausage wrapped in pastry.
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“A mummy,” she explained.
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“I know,” Arvin said, delighted.
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She seemed delighted too.
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Soon people were coming out onto their doorsteps to see him. They asked him to turn around so they could admire his costume. Someone brought a stool to a table in the square because the chairs were too low for him.
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There were slices of pumpkin pie, little cakes with orange icing and shiny red toffee apples. Arvin chose an apple, then worried about how to eat it without getting his costume sticky.
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The woman with the pumpkin apron tucked a napkin into his collar.
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“There. Now you can make a mess.”
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He laughed.
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He bit through the apple's toffee shell. It cracked so loudly that the woman laughed too.
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Warm pastry and cinnamon filled the air. He hoped there would be room for pie afterwards.
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Her name was Mrs Bell. She told him twice, but he called her the pumpkin lady, and she didn't seem to mind.
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“Where are the other children?” he asked her.
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He had been looking for someone to play with.
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Mrs Bell straightened the napkin.
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“Their families moved away.”
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“All of them?”
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“One after another.”
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Arvin looked around. There were plenty of people, but everyone had grey or white hair. A few used walking sticks. One woman had brought a cushion out to sit on.
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“Don't they visit?”
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Arthur adjusted his paper hat.
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“We still put everything out.”
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Mrs Bell cut Arvin a piece of cake.
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“Someone might come.”
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Arvin ate slowly after that. It seemed rude to leave when they had made so much.
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He told them about his baby sister, who couldn't eat sweets yet, and about Mum sewing his costume while he stood on a chair. Mrs Bell listened to every word.
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When he dripped cream onto his sleeve, she wiped it away with the corner of her apron.
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By then, the sky was dark. Arvin remembered the road, the lane, and Mum waiting outside the neighbour's house.
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“I should go back,” he said.
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“Of course,” Mrs Bell replied. “Arthur will walk you to the gate.”
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But Arthur was fetching something from his house. While they waited, Mrs Bell brought a blanket and let Arvin sit on her sofa.
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He meant to stay awake.
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The last thing he remembered was her lifting the bucket off his knees.
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“We can fill that properly tomorrow,” she said.15Please respect copyright.PENANA7S9TeQ0KH0
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