Stolen Child

Chapter Two

The kids were all dressed and ready to leave. Lucy came into the room and pulled on my arm. "Come on, let's go!" she said. Her face was covered in bright green paint which made her look less like a witch and more like an alien, if it wasn't for that stupid pointed hat on her head.

"I'm not going," I replied with a snap in my voice and hoped that she wouldn't insist anymore. Mom must have heard me because she shouted my name from the hall:

"Isaac! I can't think of any twelve year old who wouldn't want free candy!"

"Yeah! And you're not getting any of mine!" Lucy taunted and held up a hollow pumpkin made of bright orange plastic. I wanted to slap it out of her hand, but I would have been grounded. In hindsight, that wouldn't have been half-bad.

Evan and Mary stormed into the den dressed in hideous pirate costumes: eye patches, skull and crossbone hats, Evan even had a fake hook for a hand. They screeched like a couple of maniacs as they play fought with foam swords that had chunks missing from the dog. He was a big grizzled mutt named Bob who lived almost exclusively in the laundry room. Bob was normally well mannered but prone to anxious chewing.

Mary came after me with her foam sword, whacking me across the chest. Now that was going too far.

"Stop!" I ripped the sword out of her grasp and pitched it on the floor.

"Hey!" she cried, stooping to pick it back up. "Don't be mean! Mum!"

"Children, please! Ye need the patience of a Saint." Aunt Maggie shook her head exasperatedly as she rushed into the den while folding up a quilt. "Now where is Christopher? It's time for ye all to go. Christopher!" she called above the little kid's continuous arguing. Within seconds my oldest cousin appeared in the doorway of the den in a blue sweater vest with his tawny hair all scraggly on his forehead. He looked like a nerd - which he was.

"What, Ma?" He asked and propped up his wire-framed glasses.

"Take 'em all into Tuam. Stay on the footpath when ye get there and be back no later than half nine," Aunt Maggie ordered and waved a hand at us. Christopher beamed enthusiastically at the idea of taking three little kids trick or treating. Probably because he had just gotten his learner's permit and he wouldn't let any of us forget it.

"Stop the shouting!" Christopher ordered. All of the kids filed out of the den after Christopher, except for me. I hoped that Mom didn't notice I stayed behind, hunched over and uncomfortable on the rocking chair, but she came into the den to sit down with Aunt Maggie, with a steaming cup of tea, of course.

"Isaac." Her dark eyes narrowed at me. "Go now or you won't be playing video games 'til after Christmas."

I rolled my eyes and made an exaggerated sigh as I heaved myself off the chair.

"Don't give me attitude either," she added.

"Ye need a costume, Izzy," Aunt Maggie said. "We wouldn't want any ghouls to come after ye tonight," she said as she got up and pulled something out of the toy chest in the corner of the room. I wouldn't call it a mask - more like a burlap sack with two eye holes crudely cut in it. Probably something that one of the twins made.

"No, it's okay, Aunt Maggie, I don't need that."

But she ignored me and put the thing right over my head. Fraying fibers poked me in the face and matted my curly hair to my forehead. It made me so itchy that I started scratching the second she put it on.

"Have fun, now!" she said with a pat on my shoulder. Sure, I'd have fun alright. I'd have fun hankering for the Butterfinger candy bars that I'm not going to be getting tonight because I'm not in America where I should be. Halloween is not as extravagant here. The most I could hope for was an hour walking around in the cold for a few candies that were tough and tasteless.