Holiday Magick (39 page)

The Cooper's daughter disappeared on the next Hollow Eve. She wanted to be a dancer, but she had stage fright.

Year after year, young children continued to sneak out on Hollow Eve—or
Halloween
as it later transformed into—against their parents' pleas, to search for a cure to their fear.

As the ages progressed, demons began to find our world boring. Too much science. Too much
explanation
.

Since shedding their skin was a side effect of living on Earth, the demons slowly began their migration back to the underworld. And even though they left, the holiday stuck around.

Children began making their own demon masks, hiding them in bushes, under rocks, and in trees. And then they would go out on Hollow Eve and pretend to find them for the first time. They'd put them on and show their friends how brave they were.

The children laughed and giggled and growled. And sometimes they were even genuinely afraid, but at the end of the night all of the children returned home safely.

Parents would even give their children small amounts of candy to reward them for their bravery.

Just like the world, the holiday continued to change, and finally it became what it is today.

But some things haven't changed.

Once a year, the Devil still comes out to one of the thousands of Bogie Marshes of the world, setting up his table and polishing the surface with the utmost care.

He knows things, you see.

He knows that the world will continue to change. He knows that demons will eventually grow bored of the underworld. He knows that a time will come when science will falter, overcome by mankind's insatiable hunger for mystery.

He knows that Hollow Eve will once again become what it was.

So the Devil waits.

From its roots in a Celtic belief that ghouls and spirits could roam the earth in the fall, Halloween has grown into one of the world's most popular holidays. A day for people to spook their friends and neighbors. A day when masks and costumes range from the cute and cheerful to the frightful and demonic. A day for children to dress up and beg for candy from their neighbors.

But why costumes? Why scary and monstrous costumes in particular? Maybe there are those among us who live their lives in costume, waiting for Halloween as their annual opportunity to show their true colors…

You would think that I'd have a hard time sleeping on Halloween morning. You would be wrong. When the sunshine crept through my curtains and forced me to open my eyes, I was entirely not ready to get up. Blearily, I went about my usual morning routine: have breakfast (the usual—glass of blood, sheep's heart, and a bagel), brush fangs, take a shower, and get dressed. As I finished getting dressed, I automatically reached for my wig to cover my horns, but my hand stopped halfway to the wig stand. A smile broke across my face, and my hearts slowed down just a bit—it was Halloween, my day off. Not a day off from work—I wasn't
that
lucky. No, a day off from the usual routine of hiding who I was. A day off from pretending to be human. No wig. No makeup. No painfully tying my tail up inside my clothes. I was relishing that thought when my son came bounding in, dressed and ready for the day.

“Is today finally Halloween? I can really go to school without my makeup on,
and
I can show off my tail, too?” He was so full of energy and excitement that I couldn't even get a word in to answer him. “Can you tell me the story again, Dad, about why I get to be myself for a day?” Looking into his eyes, I decided that I had to make time to tell him about our history, even if it meant him missing his school bus.

Just to tease him, I tickled him with my tail. “Couldn't you tell the story yourself by now? Haven't I told it to you enough times? I'll make you a deal—you sit down and eat some breakfast, and I'll tell you all about it.” He jumped up and ran to the kitchen, leaving me adjusting my necktie in his wake. After we had his breakfast ready, I began.

“It all started a few thousand years ago in Ireland, soon after the very first demons came to Earth. They were living on a small island near Europe, where the red-haired humans were celebrating the summer's end with bonfires and feasts before the darkness of winter. To keep the spirits happy, the Red Hairs would kill some of their animals and throw the carcasses into the bonfires. One year, however, a group of Red Hairs caught some of our ancestors feeding on the slaughtered animals before they could be cast into the fires, so they threw the demons in their fire, too. The winter that followed was the worst they could remember, with blizzards and bone-numbing cold. The Red Hairs assumed the spirits they worshipped were punishing them for burning the demons, so they decided to befriend the demons and appease the spirits. After a few years of negotiation, and some bloodshed on both sides, they all agreed and spent centuries living peacefully side by side.

“However, the arrival of newcomers changed everything. Men came from another land, men who wore dark robes and cross necklaces. They told our Red Hair friends about how wicked we must be, because of how we resembled the Devil and the spirits of the Bible, and how we should be cast out and feared. Centuries of tradition were almost lost overnight as we were forced into hiding. The humans of our island didn't want to anger the spirits, in case the Dark Robes were wrong, so they protected us and taught us how to blend in by wearing disguises and makeup. The Dark Robes were satisfied that we had been driven out, and we continued to hide among the Red Hairs. The Red Hairs decided to dress up as us on October 31 each year, to allow us a break and to honor our friendship. The Dark Robes assumed this had always been the Red Hairs' custom and didn't know we were still among them, so they didn't argue about one day of the year. This tradition continues today as Halloween, where you and I don't have to hide who we truly are.” My son smiled at me through a mouthful of entrails, and I remembered looking at my own father so many years earlier as he had told me the tale of Halloween—the demons' day off.

However, there would have to be time to reminisce later, because I looked at the clock and saw how late it was. “Finish eating, and then brush those fangs quickly so you don't miss your bus. I'll pick you up after the Halloween party at school.” He slurped down the last drops of blood from his bowl, wiped his mouth, and ran to the bathroom. Teaching him to use his manners has been so difficult, but it is such an important part of parenting, just like killing our prey quickly before we eat them. It's just polite to do things the right way, and no son of mine will grow up not using a napkin. It would just be uncivilized, almost as bad as getting on the school bus with entrail-breath. I heard him finish brushing before he scooted out of the bathroom to get a hug and then dashed to the bus stop, where I overheard his friends' shouts about his costume. Ah—to be young again. I still had to go to work.

As I drove to work, I received lots of waves and thumbs-up from other drivers, no doubt because of my “costume.” Hey, I can't help that I'm a handsome devil! Well,
demon
, but you get the idea—devils don't have green skin to go with their horns and tails. Besides, I'm not evil. Pulling into the parking lot, I had to turn my thoughts to the agenda for the day. Prep for court next week, judge the office costume party, go over performance evaluations, meet with prospective client, and check over briefs. Being a demon lawyer has its perks, like always knowing whether the client truly is innocent or guilty. Mind-reading makes that easy, but has to be used carefully so we aren't too successful. Toward that end, early in my career I had limited myself to clients who were innocent, so I didn't feel guilty about using my ability to help them win in court. I take on a few guilty clients every year and lose, just so no one gets suspicious, but I know they deserve what they get, so I don't feel too bad about lying to them.

Once in the office, I took my requisite cup of coffee from my secretary, Kelly, who looked me over and stared at my twitching tail. “How do you get it to do that? It's so realistic!” She gushed over me like she had last year. I just smiled and put a finger to my lips. She noticed the pointed nail and shuddered a bit, but smiled and shook her head at the elaborate “costume” her boss wore every year. “I'll put my costume on during lunch—it's a surprise!” I smiled, already knowing the “surprise” she'd been thinking about for weeks.

That did, though, remind me that I had to put out the last memo about the costume contest, so I set to work writing it up, with the reminder that I was not entering the contest this year, so others would have a chance to win. Last year, no one else had entered because they knew they couldn't compete with me, and that just took the fun out of the day, so I had bowed out early in hopes that they would entertain me with their attempts to look scary. When you look at a monster in your mirror every day of your life, costumes just aren't that intimidating. The only truly scary ones are usually the ones from reality shows.

After I sent the memo, it was time for my least-favorite part of the job—terminating an employee. You might think that a bloodsucking monster like me would enjoy crushing people's spirits by firing them, but you'd be wrong. I have a heart like everyone else (and a spare beating away in there too), and I don't like being called names. The names they thought at me were even worse sometimes, as were the revenge fantasies they dreamed up. Larry's termination meeting went as poorly as they can go. He denied everything in his evaluation, he argued for another chance, and then, when it was clear he wasn't going to get anywhere with me, he turned and spat out, “Oh, this must be
killing
you to fire me on Halloween, while wearing your stupid monster costume.” Being called names is annoying, but Larry crossed a line by calling my normal appearance “stupid.” After I directed security to remove him from the building, I opened my email and sent a message to Garwen, the only one of my demon friends who eats people, and suggested that he might want to meet up with Larry in a dark alley sometime soon. I thought Larry might not taste good, but I figured it was a public service to keep such a worthless employee out of some other boss' hair, and
pro bono
work is, after all, part of being a lawyer.

As I closed my calendar, Kelly came to the door with an anxious look, and I could see the reason why in her thoughts—Judge Rigdon had moved up tomorrow's hearing to today. I let Kelly “break” the bad news to me, and then reassured her that everything would be fine, even as I mentally swore a few times. I was always so careful to schedule my court dates around Halloween, so I would never have to appear in court while “in costume”—that is, after all, what days off are for. Going home and changing was not an option, even if there had been time; I was not going to let Judge Rigdon get in the way of my annual chance to be myself in public. Instead, I gathered my files, checked my tie in the mirror, and got in the car to go to court, to protect my client from the charges she didn't deserve.