Free Toil & Trouble: A Know Not Why Halloween (Mis)adventure by Hannah Johnson

Fabray, ominous
as ever, dressed in perfectly normal clothes save for the pair of
devil horns on her head.
     
    Appropriate.
     
    Cora hustles on up to the front door and swings it
open. The little bell on the door jingles out their doom.
     
    Outside, the sky is dark and cloudy. There’s the
feeling of coming rain in the air.
     
    Cora lifts up her werewolf mask; now it’s more of a
werewolf hat. An unsettling look. In
creepy-ringmaster-at-the-circus tones, she announces, “Welcome, one
and all, to Artie Kraft’s Arts ‘N Crafts’ ... Scarestravaganza! If
you’re looking to have a delightful celebration of all things
Halloweeny, cross the room and climb the stairs! If you’re ready to
get so scared you pee a little,” she sneers, “stay downstairs.”
     
    There’s a collective antsy murmur from the parents at
that. The children all laugh, but it’s a hushed laughter. A nervous
laughter.
     
    “A maze awaits you,” Cora proclaims, sinister. “And
at the end of it, infinite riches. But have you got the strength to
make it that far? There’s only one way to find out. Come with me
through this door, and into a land of your wildest nightmares.”
     
    Now there isn’t even nervous laughter. Just a bunch
of kids, staring blankly at them.
     
    Not great.
     
    “One more thing,” Arthur says, stepping up next to
Cora on a whim. “Everyone, make sure to wish Tyler Fabray a happy
tenth birthday. The downstairs ... situation ... has been
specifically designed according to Tyler’s specifications, with the
blessing of his mother Annie Fabray. Don’t just thank us for what
you are about to experience. Thank the Fabrays.”
     
    There’s a drawn out silence. Then the parents all
start clapping riotously.
     
    Clearly they know who the arts ‘n crafts deity is in
this town.
     
    Annie Fabray puts on a regal smile and waves,
queenly.
     
    “Also, um,” Arthur adds, partly because it’s
important and partly because some dark piece of his heart wants to
overthrow her. “For anyone who might have an aversion to flashing
lights, I highly recommend you go upstairs. Or ... home.”
     
    Everyone stares at him.
     
    Well, that kind of diffused the enthusiastic
atmosphere.
     
    “Aw yeah!” Cora says, his rowdy saving grace. “It’s
gonna get flashy up in here!!!”
     
    Tyler, apparently moved by this, shouts, “ARRRRRR!”,
lifts his plastic sword, and runs to the front door.
     
    “Bold move calling out the Fabrays,” Cora mutters out
of the corner of her mouth as Tyler and his followers rush past her
into the store.
     
    “I had to,” Arthur mutters back. “I couldn’t let us
go down in infamy.”
     
    He watches in relief as a number of children hustle
upstairs with their parents. At least they’ll meet a better fate
than those who choose to stay down here in the muck and the
mire.
     
    Go, he thinks. Be free!
     
    Then he realizes that he has in fact become a sad and
ridiculous person.
     
    Once the upstairs crowd has reached their
destination, Kristy turns off the main lights and flicks on the
strobe light.
     
    Immediately, the room is overtaken by a strange and
wild energy.
     
    There are some shrieks of laughter from the kids, and
Arthur is just beginning to think that this might go all right,
when—
     
    “Aaaugh!” Tyler shouts. “I stepped on a chopped-off
wiener!”
     
    Howie picks this very unfortunate moment to burst out
from the beading aisle and wave the chainsaw, cackling
menacingly.
     
    “LOOK OUT,” Tyler screams. “HE’S GOING TO CHAINSAW
YOUR WIENER OFF.”
     
    “I am not, dude!” Howie says, offended.
     
    “Does he mean ‘hotdog,’ or ...?” Arthur asks,
panicked.
     
    “He’s a ten year old boy,” Cora replies. “He does not mean hotdog.”
     
    “EW!” screeches a girl dressed like a pegasus.
     
    “They’re just intestines!” Arthur protests
desperately.
     
    “They don’t look like intestines!” Tyler
shouts. “They look! Like! WIENERS.”
     
    His