Happy Samhain! (pt 2)

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. Continue reading

Happy Samhain! (pt 1)

… They were actors, not kids running around without their parents. I realized this when I saw other youth, similarly dressed, running the concession stand.

My brother and I texted back and forth a bit: he assured me that he would have come with me, if he were closer. I continued to people watch from my perch on the bench: I saw a friend, dancing close to the stage, and I watched her freedom and ease with envy (yup, I was still stuck in self-pity mode). Finally, I got up, during a break between songs, and I offered my friend’s husband one of my donuts. He and I traded–an apple cider donut for a glow stick bracelet–and I walked back to my bench, with just one donut remaining, a donut that I was going to toss into the trash. Continue reading