The Essays
"The True Story of My First Date - On My Worst Halloween Ever"
Halloween, as Charlie Brown and the other kids know, is not just for children. Halloween is for all the strange creatures who lurk in scary places until the night they are set free. These creatures include teenagers and adults. My worst Halloween was a night when I thought maybe I, a shy guy, was changing from one into the other.
Tess was like Peppermint Patty at 16, assertive, worldly and maybe a little pushy. She called me and asked if I had plans for Halloween. I said no. Suddenly I was going on my first real date. Tess was borrowing her father's car and we would see a movie. She had it all planned.
Halloween came and, yes, it was a dark and stormy night. Tess pulled up and we drove to the Ritz Theater, which was showing horror films. We held hands and ate popcorn. Tess talked all through the show. She said the movies weren't scary enough and she wanted to get really scared. After all, it was Halloween.
When we left the theater, rain was still blowing into the chill night. Tess wanted to go some place and talk. She knew just the place. I realized maybe she wanted to make out, which I had never done before. I said okay but my heart was beating fast. Would I know how to kiss or would I look like the nerdy kid I felt I was?
Tess drove a while and turned into an old abandoned cemetery that was the stuff of local kids' legends. I had never been there at night. I had never been there in the rain. I had never been there with a girl.
The cemetery looked eerier than anything on the movie screen. Tall weeds, dead with the season, shook in the wind. Tess parked on the muddy lane. She said she had never kissed a guy before and thought it was about time she did. I said, "Okay," and she scooted closer. I turned, closed my eyes, leaned toward her and puckered my lips.
"What was that?" she asked abruptly. Opening my eyes I saw a light shining into the car. In the glare I could see another car parked down the lane. It was a police car, and the lights were flashlights.
"Run!" Tess shouted, jumping out. I jumped out and ran after her. I caught up with her squatting behind a tilting tombstone. She grabbed my hand and we started running again. We slipped on the wet ground and tripped over the stones and low spots. Finally she shoved me down into a sunken grave, leaped on top of me, and yelled, "They'll never take me alive!"
Face down on a grave, Tess pressing me into the mud, I wondered if I was ready to be this grown up. Finally the flashlights stopped searching and we heard the police car drive away. Pulling ourselves up, we headed back to the car. The police had left a wet ticket under the windshield wiper.
We drove home silently. When Tess pulled up to my house she giggled and said, "Thank you for a wonderful evening. It was great." She leaned over and kissed me on the cheek. I got out and walked to the door, my shoes squishing.
Mom and Dad looked up at me and asked if we had had car trouble. Wiping the mud from my face, I asked if there was any candy left. Growing up? Maybe later. Good grief.
Keith Murray