The last part of the Haunted Trail involved chainsaws, aircraft hanger-like passages, and strobe lights. The zombies in this section not only had chainsaws, they also carried crow bars, lead pipes, and ice picks. My escort and I made it through unscathed, and as we waited at the end of the trail for our companions, I sat on a wooden fence, between the lower slats. I felt this strange “bzz” several times on my ass–and then it clicked. There was an electric fence right behind the wooden one, to keep the animals inside the field. I’d stuck myself into the electric fence. It was an appropriate end to the Trail at Markoff’s Haunted Forest. Wendy and John came out, joined Chris and me and Stevie and we walked back toward the stage.
En route, Chris stopped for water, and Stevie and John went off in separate directions. Wendy and I began to chat–and our conversation took deep turns, some turns that are not mine to share, others, such as my distaste for creamy things, or my childhood years raised in a cult, I’m able to share. See, I had shared my fear of the forest, and received Wendy’s gift of her husband (as a hand-holder), and these risks created a space where she and I could risk a bit more and share a bit more of our selves. It was magical and bespoke the full moon and her mysteries.
A pagan friend of mine was sharing with me about the meaning of Samhain and phrased it thus: it’s a time to say good bye to the old and wish those who have died in that year blessings on their journey and start the new year on a fresh note.
Much that transpired that night, (albeit, not Samhain) felt-Samhain inspired. I spoke of deaths and losses from my last years and I took action on a fresh note: I risked and I shared and I received. For all of these I am grateful and I am especially grateful for my friends that were working the event, Christa and John (who gave me a reason to come out), and for Wendy (for her kindness, her confidences, and her husband–to name a few things). If I’d never gone, I wouldn’t have stepped beyond the old and into the new. I wouldn’t have made my move toward beginning the new year on a fresh note.