I could barely catch my breath through the plastic mask that seemed to look more like a suction cup upon my face.
“Momma,” I tried to whimper from underneath the rubber-smelling mask. “I can’t breathe in this thing.”
Huffing, Momma removed my Halloween mask as I took a gasp of sweet air.
“Stop putting on,” she said, adjusting the straps. “It’s not that bad. You’re just being dramatic. Now let’s get your costume ready for pictures.”
Every year of my young life I dressed up as a witch for Halloween. But this year Momma bought this plastic, body-hugging costume that resembled an art smock. It came with a tight, suffocating plastic mask.
I was supposed to be a “Glo-Worm.”
But I felt like a “Glo-Nerd.”
Wiggling the forsaken mask back on my flushed face, Momma got it to appear normal as my ears turned red from the straps cutting off circulation.
Pushing a battery button inside my “smock,” I began to glow a radiant rainbow of blue, yellow, green and red.
“You’re glowing,” Momma shouted, adjusting the flash on top of her camera. “Now smile.”
“Geez, she can’t smile,” my Paw Paw said, lighting his pipe. “She can’t even breathe.”
“Hush, Daddy,” Momma said. “She’s my little Glo-Worm.”
I posed for my photo shoot. I felt like I was in the Sears store with Momma holding squeaky toys in front of me as I begged for someone to take me out of my misery.
“Can I trick or treating now,” I pleaded. “This is too many pictures.”
But Momma kept snapping away until the finally bulb in her attached flash fizzled out.
“You’re gonna blind the poor girl,” Paw Paw said. “She already can’t breathe. Now she’s gonna be blind.”
Momma shoved a Hershey bar into Paw Paw’s hand and told him to knock it off.
As Momma pulled out the laser light backdrop, I made my exit out the kitchen screen door.
It was Halloween! It was time for candy, spooky stories, mischief, yard-rolling, and good old fashioned trouble for me and my neighborhood friends.
My friends were all waiting for me at the end of the street, ready to knock on the many doors that awaited us. They were excited, showing off their costumes.
Charles was a werewolf. Kay was a princess. Julie was a cheerleader. Alicia was a wizard.
And here I came down the street, looking like I was directing a plane landing.
“What are you supposed to be,” Charles asked, flicking my glow tubes.
“I’m a Glo-Worm,” I said. “You know...a worm that glows.”
“Your costume stinks,” Kay said, fluffing out her pink gown.
“Well, yours is gonna hurt in a minute,” I replied.
Before World Ward III broke out between the princess and a glowing worm, Julie suggested we get started with our candy run.
It was time for our sugar highs. It was time for our annual candy exchanges, It was time to swallow Snicker bars whole and turn our tongues purple with Crybabies.
Mr. Mack was the first house we hit. I am not saying Mr. Mack didn’t like kids, but his porch light was off except for one small light over a table.
“Don’t knock. Just take some.”
The note was all we needed to see as we dove into the bowl of peanut butter cups and lollipops. I managed to find a pair of wax red lips. And Alicia uncovered a top spinner.
“Let’s roll,” Charles shouted, shoving a Sugar Daddy in his mouth.
We hit about three other houses, all loading up with more treats and prizes.
I was insulted though when Mrs. Johnson told me I made a wonderful pea pod.
“I’m a Glo-Worm,” I replied.
“Oh,” she said, handing me another candy bar out of guilt. “Of course, you are.”
We romped around that streets until our parents began hollering for us to come into the house. That was good for Mr. Mack because Charles managed to sneak ten rolls of toilet paper from his house...maybe next time.
As I pulled the suction cup mask off my face, I poured my bag out in front of everyone in the living.
Momma snuck a few Kit Kats out of my pile. She thought she was sneaky, but I noticed. She even took them to the bathroom to eat them quickly.
Paw Paw begged me for a peanut log. He told me being a diabetic had nothing to do with peanut. Peanuts are nuts after all.
Maw Maw refused to eat anything. She went on and on about how mean people stick needles and razor blades in candy now.
As the moon hid behind the clouds, I took my seat in my Paw Paw’s recliner with my candy pile in my lap.
And as all the adults eased off to bed, I sat alone in the dark with my face covered in chocolate and my hands covered in taffy.
With the glow of my worm smock flashing in the darkness, I was in heaven.
I think my face glowing from excitement almost matched my costume.
