Their Little Secret

Each pumpkin that glowed bright orange on the porches streamed up and down the street and made Charlie think of his neighborhood as one big Christmas tree as he sped along on his bike. The clicks of the playing card he had stuck in his spokes came to a halt at the old abandoned mansion that towered in front of him. It's rotten foundation and broken windows looked like an old mean face. The rustling leaves were the soundtrack and somewhere a gate was opening and closing. Mary parked her bike beside him and they gazed silently at the haunted house. They were a very cute ghost couple there in the night. Charlie took Mary's hand and they walked in the front door timidly. It was dark and empty except for old furniture and grandfather clocks covered in silver cobwebs. Mary whispered through her sheet "I think I heard something upstairs." They climbed the creaky steps carefully. Charlie pushed open the door to the master bedroom and tip toed over to the dresser. There was a small picture frame on it that contained an old photograph of Mr.Driftwood. This had once been his home. Charlie and Mary stared at his face through the dust it had collected. He removed his satchel and placed the small frame inside. Charlie thought "Now we have proof." They looked at each other through their eyeholes and knew the other was smiling too. They left the mansion and mounted their bikes. Mary said "Lets go smash some pumpkins!" and they rode off in the brisk Halloween night laughing and shouting. Later on when they were married they would tell their children this story every Halloween as a tradition. They left out the part about smashing pumpkins though. That was their little secret.

By Timothy Poovey