Free Mischief Night by Paul Melniczek

The Raid
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    "Hey Rusty, how much corn do you have left?" Tommy Miller questioned his freckled friend, a big grin crossing Rusty Patton's face.
    "A whole shopping bag full -- that should be enough."
    Tommy nodded. "I still got pretty much; went down to the field again Monday. Couple of cobs, too."
    The seventh graders walked down the sidewalk as a brisk October wind rustled the fallen leaves which were scattered around the grass lawns of their neighborhood.
    Several piles sat patiently in the gutter, waiting for the leaf collection trucks to make their rounds. The boys gazed at the houses, continuing their short hike home from the school bus.
    "Tommy, look at the Crawford's place."
    Rusty pointed a thin finger to his right, and the pair looked at a huge jack- o'-lantern carved in the likeness of a cat, sitting on the front step of a two-story house.
    "We'll smash it tonight," Tommy answered.
    "Better run fast, then. If Mr. Crawford sees us, we're in big trouble. He knows my dad, they go down to the bar sometimes." Rusty was nervous at the thought, but that was part of the fun.
    Halloween raiding was an adventure, the trick being not to get caught.
    Both of the boys' parents allowed them to go out, but with two conditions -- they could only take corn, and had to be in by nine. The boys could deal with the rules, although they would bend them at times. They approached an intersection. On the far side was a large maple tree; strips of toilet paper were strewn about its lower branches, as if decorated by an insane artist.
    "Rob Sterner did that. Don't know where he sneaks all the toilet paper from." Rusty laughed at the scene, which posed a major headache to the property owner.
    "He takes it from the school bathroom," Tommy said.
    "Really? He's crazy," answered Rusty. "If he gets caught, he'll be in detention for a week."
    "Yeah, he's nuts all right. Hey, did I tell you, Jimmy Krick is coming over later. He's raiding with us tonight."
    Rusty stopped, looking over at his friend as they reached the other side of the street. "Jimmy? Talk about crazy...I don't know if we should go with him."
    Rusty adjusted his backpack, looking worried, the brown hair fluttering in the breeze.
    "It's okay. He's not that bad," said Tommy.
    Rusty wasn't convinced. "I heard he broke three windows last year, and soaped up a police car."
    "Well, don't worry. If he tries anything like that, we'll just tell him no."
    They approached Tommy's house, and he turned around, shoving Rusty lightly. "Seven, all right? Meet us out front here, and make sure you bring enough corn."
    "See ya'," replied Rusty. He crossed the street, angling towards his own house, which sat across from Tommy's. He frowned though, at the thought of Jimmy coming along.
    He really hoped the boy wouldn't cause any trouble.
    ~ * ~
    "Ready?"
    Tommy and Rusty nodded, as Jimmy counted on his fingers. The boy was a pale figure on the wooden porch, taller than his two companions. He reached 'three' and in unison the trio jumped up and down, stomping relentlessly on the floorboards. Laughing hysterically, they bounded away off the landing and ran, cutting through the neighboring yard. Lights came on at the house they'd left behind, and a dog barked from within. Wordlessly they continued their flight for another block, until they were convinced that no one had followed.
    "Good one," said Tommy. "We probably gave them a heart attack."
    "That'll teach them to leave their lights off, won't it?" Jimmy's smug grin gave the boy a malicious appearance in the darkness.
    "We still have some time left, let's go." Jimmy crouched behind a hedgerow, and the others followed him. They scrambled across to a stone alleyway, leading up a small hill, which was wooded at the top. Jimmy hurried ahead and the alley ended, stopping at a poorly-lit street. Few houses were there, mostly older stone dwellings. Across the road sat a solitary home, fronted by a bank of ivy, crumbling steps leading up to the entrance. Moss