As the pupils of Westmacott Community College streamed out of school towards the buses, two large boys with grubby uniforms were arranging to meet. “ Can’t wait for tonight, got a great mask, it’ll give yer the creeps. Craig laughed as he dug his friend Baz in the ribs.
“ Don’t need masks to have fun, do we? said Baz with a groan, rubbing his side, “ only little kids wear costumes.
Craig refused to be put off, “ I’m not talking about costumes, just masks. Look, I’ll get yer one, you don’t have to wear it.”
They parted at the bus stop and agreed to meet at the usual place at 7’ o’clock.
The village bus shelter was unusually quiet when Baz arrived to meet Craig. It was Halloween and the various members of the “youth club”, were out doing the rounds, going from house to house for trick or treat. Some had gone to parties, but all were determined to make the most of the one night of the year when it was expected that they would be “right little devils.” It was a cold night, Baz shivered and stamped his feet to get warm. Perhaps Craig had changed his mind, he might have gone to the party at that girl’s house; the one he fancied; the one with the purple highlights and the tattoo of a snake. Maybe he’d got an invite after all . They’d talked about gate crashing it, but her brother played rugby for the school team, he was built like a…….
AHHHHHHHHhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!! Thump!! He was knocked off his feet and this horrible thing was stuck right in his face.
When he finally got his breath back, Baz had to agree that Craig’s mask was impressive, but the thing that really won him over, was that Craig was holding a different, but equally grotesque mask.
“ I knew yer’d like ‘em.” said Craig with enthusiasm, “ Hey, there’s some kids up the road, let’s try ‘em out”
Sure enough, just outside the village post office, a group of childen, stood examining the rewards of their trick or treating. They were obviously very pleased with themselves and didn’t even notice Craig and Baz as they walked past, masks carefully out of sight. Having seized up the opposition, Craig and Baz effected their transformation and turned round in ghoulish mode, advancing on the group of increasingly terrified young children. Craig pushed one of the mini-vampires out of the way, as Baz grabbed the bucket of sweets.
“ Didn’t yer mum tell yer, sweets are bad for vampire teeth. We’ll help you out, ha,ha ha! The vampires tried to put up a fight to retrieve their night’s earnings, but the two monsters in masks were too strong and too quick for them. Howling like werewolves, they lolloped away with their ill-gotten gains.
“ We need something to wash these down”, grinned Craig, eying the petrol station shop. “ Cover me while I find us a drink.” he called over his shoulder. A lorry driver was just entering the shop to pay for his diesel, so Craig was able to slink in behind him and disappear to the back of the shop.
Baz also went into the shop and picked up some chocolate bars, which he seemed to be examining with unusual care.
“ Can I have these. Oh no, I don’t like them, these are better.” He reached out and knocked half of the display of sweets onto the floor. “ Sorry, I didn’t mean to make a mess.”
The girl behind the counter sighed, but had no choice but to leave her desk and to restore some sort of order to the shop. “ I bet he’s trying to steal them”, she thought, no longer able to see the camera showing the back of the shop, where the real theft was taking place at that very moment.
Baz continued his play acting, “ I don’t think I’ll bother now . I don’t like any of them,” He told the frustrated shop assistant when she returned to the till prepared to take his thirty pence.
Outside the shop, Craig was already walking slowly away, clutching four cans of lager under his jacket.
“Where we going to drink them”, laughed Baz, pleased that it had been so easy to outwit the shop girl and frighten off the mini-vampires.
“ What about the old church? Suggested Craig. It’d be good tonight Oohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!! He danced round Baz wearing his mask and waving his arms about like a ghost.
“ Spooky!”, said Baz agreeing, but turning a nervous white behind his mask.
With false bravado, the boys made their way to the old church near the village green. They let themselves into the graveyard through the lytch gate and approached the heavy church door with the faint hope that it might be open. Unsurprisingly, the door was firmly locked and neither boy had acquired lock picking skills so far in their careers of crime.
“ Never teach yer nothing useful at school”, moaned Craig, annoyed that he could not force the heavy door open.
“ Yeh, me uncle Dave could shift that”, Agreed Baz, looking around for anything that would help to solve the problem.
“ Well Uncle Dave isn’t here, is he?” , grumbled Craig who was starting to get tired and irritated with their situation.
“ Let’s 'av a look around. Maybe there’s another window”, suggested Baz, gald to think of something else to do. Sure enough, at the back of the twelfth century building they found a small window.
“ We’ll get in through here”, Craig punched a hole in the glass and slipping his hand through, found a latch which opened easily. “ Come on Baz”, he shouted as he threw the cans of lager on to the floor of the darkened room on the inside. Craig was obviously confident that he would be able to get
through the small window, although nay reasonably observant person could have told him that it would not be easy!! Nevertheless, he poked his head through and then his chest, making progress, even managing to force his stomach over the window sill. All was going well until his ample bottom stuck fast and refused to follow the rest of his body.
“ I’m stuck”, he shouted out to Baz, “ Give me a push”.
Baz pushed for all he was worth but it seemed that Craig would spend the night half in and half out or the church window.
“ Push harder mate,” Craig cried out, trying not to sound desperate, which he certainly was!
“ I’m trying”, Baz was starting to panic. What a Halloween this and turned out to be. “ Hold on”. Craig couldn’t do anything else, he wasn’t going anywhere. Baz climbed up onto a family vault. “ Here lyeth Obediah Grimshaw, 78 years”, he couldn’t help reading as he hauled himself up onto the top of the surface which was slippery with moss. From his position on top of the tomb, Baz summoned all his strength and pushed Craig hard, very hard. With an ear piercing shout, Craig was finally forced through the window and landed on top of the cans of lager. Exhausted, Baz looked at the open window. He was a little thinner than Craig, so he was unlikely to have the same trouble climbing in to the church, but there was only one thing he really wanted to do; go home! He pushed the bucket of sweets through to Craig who had got up ready to help his friend.
“ I’m going home, I don’t want to stay here, it’s creepy”. With that parting comment, Baz almost ran out of the churchyard without taking any notice of the horrified shouts which came from the dark room at the back of the church.
“ I can’t get out!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t leave me here!!!!!!!!!!! Come back!!!!!!!!!!!” No matter how many times Craig screamed out, his shouting fell on deaf ears, or rather no ears, Baz was long gone, he had re-discovered his ability to sprint and was determined to be home as fast as his legs would carry him.
Left alone in the church, Craig was trapped. He felt angry and vented his anger at Baz, who couldn’t hear him. Eventually, he tired of this and decided to open the lager, hoping that it would make him feel better. He had four cans all to himself now, much better, not having to share them, or the sweets. No it wasn’t, he felt miserable and started to cry. Hot tears ran down his face sticky with chocolate and jelly beans. The room started to become blurred and he felt sick and dizzy. The lager had taken affect and he tried to read the time on his watch, but stared at it trying to make it out. He staggered to the door of the room, a drunken plan in his mind. Perhaps he could find a key for the church door. Not such a bad plan ( for a person with a clear head ) . Craig lurched around the empty church feeling ill. He didn’t think to turn on lights, or even to look for any. He sat down in a pew, his head in his hands and fell asleep.
When he woke up, he could hear something; a voice. When he remembered where he was, he felt a sense of relief. At least he would be able to get out of the place, now that there was someone else around. Strangely, it was still dark. He peered through the gloom of the church, just as the clock was striking. The voice had stopped and he counted the twelve stokes of the church clock. Silence… the voice again.
“ Nathan Jones
Jonah Wells
Luke Evans
Craig Simmons”
His blood froze and he held his breath. As the light of the moon streamed through the stained glass window he could see the owner of the voice who had so clearly pronounced his name. The voice had fallen silent, but outside, a group of shadowy faces looked in through the window. One of them turned away from the church and said, “ Aye, that’s it, only four souls to meet their maker this year. Four deaths and none of us.”
When the church was opened and the boy’s body found, the inquest decided that it was the effect of the alcohol on a cold night and a weak heart that had led to the death of Craig Simmons. That was of course one explanation.
Gaynor Cobb