Chapter 153

The kitchen table has been cleared of the take-out boxes and soy sauce packets, napkins, chopsticks, all the paraphernalia of dinner last night. A few crushed beer cans top an overflowing trashcan, set in front of the back door as a blatant reminder for whoever heads that way to take the garbage out with them. On the counter by the sink, still sitting on a bed of newsprint, is Caitlin’s pumpkin, lit only with the light from the window behind it. Shadows inside the hollowed-out gourd seem to move as I walk by, making the chiseled leer appear to widen, the carved eyes follow my steps. It doesn’t know me—the thought comes unbidden to my mind, drawn from some primal well deep inside. Something I read years ago comes back, one of the reasons for dressing up in costumes for Halloween, to confuse the spirits of the dead still wandering the earth. I’m dressed in Dan’s clothes right now, it won’t know who I am, it can’t get me, I’m safe.