Lionel’s inability to control the sway of his costume had already earned him a few dirty looks from parents of the small humans in his path. At least the dirty looks were better than the outright laughter when people got the full effect of his costume from hell.

Dylan had a lot to answer for and he added the evening to his extensive list of ways she’d done him wrong over the years. But even though all he wanted to do was waddle back to Dylan’s house and hide, he could do this for his niece. And the upside? No one could tell it was him.

He stood to the farthest edge of the sidewalk, the better to avoid knocking anyone over, and let the kids attack several houses before he cautiously made his way along the sidewalk, admiring the decorations. Some of Dylan’s neighbors had gone all out.

Lionel paused in front of a house with an evil laugh soundtrack played on a loop. The chilling sound competed with the excited bursts of laughter and piercing shrieks that reminded Lionel of his own childhood adventures.

Between the dark night and the headpiece, his vision worked best from a distance, and he watched as Billy jumped off someone’s front porch and raced Anne to the next house. Both of their chosen costumes were popular this year, and he had to pay attention to pick them out of the crowd.

Billy stayed glued to Anne’s side, and if it made her happy to hang out with a budding serial killer, well, who was Lionel to protest? Unfortunate dating choices helped build character.

Lionel contemplated the injustices of a universe that allowed his sister to attend a party wearing little more than a strategically placed plastic snake and her refusal to let him wear his own costume of choice while shepherding her daughter.

From the tidbits Anne let drop, his sister and her husband also needed to exercise a bit more discretion where their conversation was concerned if they felt the need to protect their spawn.

“What’s spawn?” Anne asked.

Lionel jumped, sending the damn tail swaying again. “Sorry honey, I didn’t realize you were there. Is that peanut butter cup for me?” The soothing bliss of chocolate pacified Lionel’s disgruntled soul, and at least the open mouth of the headpiece allowed room to pass the candy in once he wrestled it from the wrapper. But why struggle with the elastic finger openings hidden in the costume paw when he had help? “Peel me a few more of those mini bars, will you?”

The two kids traded him their full pillowcases of candy for new, empty ones and Lionel made them promise to meet him at the end of the block before trudging away. He hid in the shadows cast by a stand of trees to wait.

Safe from the constant fear of crushing someone’s kid beneath his purple feet, he could watch the night’s events in a peaceful, chocolate haze that turned the crowd into a time-lapse film of motion and sound muffled by the costume’s padding.

A low growl caught his attention, and Lionel swung around the best he could to try and look over first his left, and then his right shoulder. A tug on his tail almost jerked him off his feet and he swung one of the pillowcases of candy behind him. He heard a short yip, and then a medium-size dog danced away from his costumed tail. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The dog yipped and barked again, lowering itself onto its front paws, while its back end wiggled back and forth. “Shoo,” Lionel demanded. “Go on. Git.”

Instead of listening, the dog dove for his tail. Lionel leaned as far as his belly would let him. He looked through the open mouth at the excited animal and gave his best growl. The dog gave a yarp rather than a yip and ran off.

Triumphant, Lionel rummaged in the candy-stuffed pillowcases the kids had left with him for safekeeping. He could have sworn that there was another couple of peanut butter cups in Billy’s bag. A shadow crossed in front of him, and thinking the kids had returned, Lionel held out a Baby Ruth bar that he had picked out by mistake with his purple paw. “That was fast, did they run out of candy already?”

“You haven’t seen a kid dressed in a Jason costume, have you?” The voice was quiet, yet resonated with a smooth, smoky quality that sent little shivers along Lionel’s spine and raised the hairs on the back of his neck. Not Billy or Anne, but intriguing all the same, even with panic coloring the edges.