Once Upon a Halloween by Richard Laymon Page A

don't you?"
        He nodded. "You need to put on something anyway."
        "If you say so." Eleanor turned around and walked toward the closet. Its door was wide open, its light on. As she neared it, she raised an arm as if to reach in for a hanging garment. But she suddenly stopped. She lowered her arm and stood there, not moving.
        "What's the matter?"
        Shaking her head, she backed away from the closet. She turned around. She was breathing hard and her eyes looked scared. "I'm not... You want me to put on something, you get it."
         Some kind of trick?
        "Just reach in and grab..."
        "Huh-uh, not me. I'm not going anywhere near that closet."
        A chill hustled up Hunter's back. "What's wrong with it?" His voice came out barely louder than a whisper.
        "I don't know. I just got a bad... like maybe he's in there."
        "Who?"
        She touched a finger to the red mark on her throat. "Him."
        Hunter stared at the closet. It was brightly lighted and looked line. On a hanger in plain sight was the robe that Shannon had been wearing.
         I could just reach in and grab it out.
        But what if something grabs me?
        Eleanor suddenly rushed over to Shannon's bed. Bending at the waist, she grabbed the cover and flung it aside. "What're you doing?"
        She tugged the bed's white topsheet away from the mattress. "I'll wear this," she said, and wrapped it around her body.
        Hunter shook his head. "I don't know. Makes you look like a nude woman wearing a sheet. I'll get you some..."
        "How about this?" She unwrapped the sheet, swept it up over her head and let it drift down. "It's Halloween. I'm a fucking ghost."
        The sheet draped her body, front and back, almost down to her knees.
        "Pretty good," Hunter admitted. Not only was Eleanor no longer naked, but the sheet concealed her identity and resembled a traditional Halloween costume. "It just needs eyeholes..."
        "And a belt to keep it on," Eleanor said. "Give me a pen or something and I'll mark the eyes."
        Not turning his back on her, Hunter went to Shannon's desk. He propped his sword against it, then opened one of the top drawer, pens, markers, scissors, a stapler, paper clips, computer ink. He took out the scissors and a blue Sharpie marker. Uncapping the marker, he approached Eleanor.
        "Put your fingertips where your eyes are. And don't try anything."
        "I won't try anything. You saved my life, Hunter."
        "Like that'll hold you back."
        "It does." She touched both her forefingers against the front of the sheet. Hunter could see slight indentations where her eyes were; lower, the jut of her nose; lower still, the way the sheet draped the smooth tops of her breasts and how her nipples pushed it out. "I'm not gonna do anything against you," she said. "Not anymore."
        "I hope not," Hunter said and reached out with the Sharpie. He traced around her left fingertip, drawing a half-circle on the sheet in front of her eye.
        "Besides," she said, "you're taking me outa this place and back where I wanta go."
        He traced around her right fingertip. Backing away, he said, "Okay, take off the sheet and I'll cut the holes."
        She pulled it off. "I'll do it." Nodding at the scissors, she held out her hand.
        "I'm supposed to give you scissors?"
        "You've got my Bowie knife, pal. You've got my saber, if you wanta go grab it. What'd I gonna do to you with a little pair of scissors?"
        "Okay." He backed his way to the desk, tossed the Sharpie onto it, then gave the scissors an underhand toss to Eleanor. Just as she caught them, he picked up the sword.
        Standing where he was, he watched her snip eyeholes in the sheet. After the eyeholes were done, she cut out a hole the size of a silver dollar.
        "Here." She tossed the scissors to him. He caught them.
        While he turned