Jennifer Killby Jennifer Killby
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Deborah Boydston Deborah Boydston
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Trick or Treat

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She had a friend.

Well this is my submission in honor of Holloween, I just know there are going to be lots of horror stories so I thought I would post one on a lighter note. Hope you enjoy.

      I was somewhat surprised that kids would still be out at such a late hour trick-or-treating, nevertheless I grabbed the bowl of candy and headed for the front door. I opened the door expecting to hear a chorus of trick-or-treat only to discover that it was the trick part of the refrain we were being subjected to. Closing the door, I headed back to the kitchen to put the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher.

     “More goblins?” my husband asked entering the kitchen, dressed in his pajamas, and ready for his nightly ritual of hot chocolate before bedtime.

     “No pranksters. Somebody knocked and ran, probably teenagers out having a little fun at the expense of others. If you sit down, I’ll fix us both some hot cocoa.” 1 comment

     I prepared the cocoa and joined my husband at the table when I became aware of a scratching sound at the front of the house.

     “Do you hear that?” I asked looking William squarely in the eyes.

     “Now you’re getting paranoid. It’s probably the wind.” That was his way of saying you are totally nuts.

     “The last time I opened the door the wind wasn’t even blowing. There it is again. Can’t you hear that scratching sound?”

     “Yeah, now I hear it. Those kids are taking this just a little too far.” With that he marched to the front door and opened it. He started to yell something about calling the police when he noticed a big brown box on the front porch and something was inside scratching to get out.

    Joining him on the front porch, flashlight in hand I proceeded, “I didn't notice that when I came to the door earlier." Then asking, "Well are you just going to stand there, or are you going to open it?”
     “Not just like that. You never know what kind of trick someone could be playing on us. There could be anything in that box just to scare us out of our wits. There might be a rat, lizard, or grasshopper. Those kids just want to see us jump out of our skins for laughs.”

     “Now who’s paranoid? Then after a few long minutes of staring at the box I asked, “Well what’re we going to do, stand here all night just looking at the box?”

     “No, I’m going to get the broom and use the handle to push the box away from the house, that way I’ll get an idea of how big the animal is, and just maybe it will make a noise to indicate what kind of animal it is.”

     He got the broom, and pushed the box toward the edge of the porch. “Whatever it is, it’s very light.” Examining the box, he proceeded to lift the lid with the broom handle. All of a sudden the box fell over on its side, the lid fell off and my husband darted in the front door slamming the screen.

     “You forgot somebody,” I said turning to face him through the screen. 1 comment

     I frantically turned back around to see what would come out of the box. After a couple of seconds I cautiously circled to the open side at a safe distance, squatted down and flashed the light into the box.

     “Ahh, how cute.”

     “What is it?”

     “It’s a kitten. The poor thing is obviously scared from the fall he took thanks to you.”
I reached into the box and picked up the poor frightened little kitten. He was the tiniest, fluffiest pure white kitten I had ever seen.

     “Here’s your spooky little creature,” I said handing the cat to William.

     His reply’ “What’re we going to do with it? We can’t keep it.”

     “Why not?” I asked heading back into the kitchen to heat some milk.

     “Because we don’t have cat food.” He replied following.

     “I’ll go to the store and get some in the morning.”

     “We don’t even know who his vet is.”

     “Now your reaching for excuses to get rid the little cutie, and how do you know it’s a he?
Besides I’ll get my own vet.”

     “He probably belongs to somebody.”

     I sat the milk on the table and retorted, “Yeah and they left it on our front porch in a box just so they could give us a reward for returning it.”

     I took the kitten from William, looked at its underside, and sat her on the table in front of the milk. “I think I’ll name her Tricksy, spelled with a ck instead of an x.”

     “How creative, I like it,” William said stroking the kittens head while she lapped up her warm milk. “I’m already getting use to the idea that she is here to stay.”
     Tricksy continually proves to live up to her name. She hides under the bed and playfully attacks our feet as we walk by. She grabs small things such as earrings, ink pens, q-tips, paper clips, chap stick etc, etc... Often she hides them behind the sofa, or under a desk. She hides in the laundry as I sort it, and when I try to chase her out she snatches up a sock and runs. When we’re reading the paper she’ll bat at the back of it to get our attention. Then when she has our attention she doesn’t want it anymore.

     She eats meow mix cat food, and at night she sleeps curled up at the bottom of our bed. In the morning she wakes us by playing with our feet, or licking one of us in the face.

     Well, it’s been a year since we first found Tricksy on our front porch in a box. It’s getting too late for trick-or-treaters and William is at the table drinking hot cocoa. I’m at the stove heating milk for Tricksy when someone knocks on the door......

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