It's Not So Bag

Twelve-year-olds Arthur and Lisa, having split up to cover more of the town, reconvened at the tree house to compare their trick-or-treat bounties. They’d both dressed as zombies, but even through all the gory face paint, their disappointment was clear.

“Another lame Halloween,” Arthur said. “It’s like, what’s wrong with giving out candy? Everyone around here tries to get too creative. I got the worst stuff.”

“You got the worst? Wait until you see what I’ve got,” Lisa said.

They sat down and began removing items from their respective glowing Pop Lights bags.

“Look at this,” Arthur said. “Someone gave me one Triscuit!”

“If you want something to dip it in, I’ve got a bunch of ketchup packets here from an old lady,” Lisa said. “Hey, what’s that sloshing noise?”

“Loose soup,” Arthur said. “The guy just ladled it into my bag.”

Lisa leaned over and looked. “Are those malt balls floating in it?”

“Nope. Meatballs. It’s Italian wedding.”

“At least you can eat that,” Lisa said. “I don’t know what to do with these ticket stubs from a 1992 Celine Dion concert.”

Arthur put on a pair of eyeglasses. “Let me see them.”

Lisa handed the stubs over. “I didn’t know you wore glasses.”

“I don’t,” Arthur said. “Someone on Fourth was handing these out.”

“New?”

“Gently used,” Arthur said.

“Maybe I could use them to read this.” Lisa pulled out a stack of papers from her glowing Halloween bag. “Guy on twelfth was giving out copies of his unfinished novel. And I need to have critiques back to him in two weeks.”

“How is it?”

“It’s okay. There are some point of telling issues. Like, if you’re going to use a retrospective POV, the narrator can’t be surprised by the events as they unfold. Also, some of the fantastical elements frustrate me. I keep thinking: what are the rules of this world?”

“Huh,” Arthur said. “I wouldn’t be much help. I’m a journalist, not a novelist. Or at least I am now that a woman on Church Street gave me this.” He handed a diploma over to Lisa.

“Wow, a journalism degree! From George Washington University! They could be really useful,” Lisa said, “for mopping up the soup!”

“Hey, good idea,” Arthur said.

“I have no idea what to do with this.” Lisa held a sheet of paper.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“An NDA,” Lisa said.

“For what?”

“I can’t tell you.”

The two of them fell silent for a moment.

“You want one of these I Trick-or-Treated 2018 stickers?” Arthur offered.

Lisa took one. “Thanks. You want any of these Spirit Airline points I got over on Main?”

“Sure. How about some opportunities to build real wealth and passive income through direct marketing? Someone on Grand was handing those out.”

“Couldn’t hurt,” Lisa said.

“That’s it for me,” Arthur said. “And to think: I thought my parents were the lame ones for handing out some fidget spinners they bought online. What a bust!”

“Actually, maybe it wasn’t a total bust. A family on Breezy Lane did give me this.” Lisa took it out and set it down between them.

“What is it?” Arthur asked.

“I think it’s another, smaller, Halloween.” Lisa pointed at something swirling. “See, look.”

They each leaned in and watched as twelve-year-olds Arthur and Lisa, having split up to cover more of the town, reconvened at the tree house to compare their trick-or-treat bounties. They’d both dressed as zombies, but even through all the gory face paint, their disappointment was clear.

“Another lame Halloween,” Arthur said. “It’s like, what’s wrong with giving out candy? Everyone around here tries to get too creative. I got the worst stuff.”

“You got the worst? Wait until you see what I’ve got,” Lisa said.

They sat down and began removing items from their respective glowing Pop Lights bags…