The Halloween Tree by Ray Bradbury

Once again Bradbury writes a story that is poetry disguised as prose. He beautifully evokes the sights and sounds and smells of childhood. In this case, it is the childhood of an autumn night, Halloween to be exact.

"The wind outside nested in each tree, prowled the sidewalks in invisible treads like unseen cats.

Tom Skelton shivered. Anyone could see that the wind was a special wind this night, and the darkness took on a special feel because it was All Hallows' Eve. Everything seemed cut from soft black velvet or gold or orange velvet. Smoke panted up out of a thousand chimneys like the plumes of funeral parades. From kitchen windows drifted two pumpkin smells: gourds being cut, pies being baked.

The cries behind the locked house doors grew more exasperated as shadows of boys flew by windows. Half-dressed boys, greasepaint on their cheeks; here a hunchback, there a medium-size giant. Attics were still being rummaged, old locks broken, old steamer chests disemboweled for costumes."

This is a tale that one might have heard told around a crackling campfire on an October night. The kind that makes you jump at the sound of a twig snapping and makes you look repeatedly over your shoulder into the darkness that writhes with shadows cast by the firelight.

Eight boys in costume, turned loose on their small town on Halloween night. A haunted house. A giant tree full of Jack-o lanterns that light up and grin out at the night. A mysterious man named Carapace Clavicle Moundshroud to tell them the "wild long history of Halloween."

"... the front door gave a shake, a twist of its knob, a grimace of its Marley knocker, and flung itself wide.

The wind made by the suddenly opening door almost knocked the boys off the porch. They seized one another's elbows, yelling.

Then the darkness within the house inhaled. A wind sucked through the gaping door. It pulled at the boys, dragging them across the porch. They had to lean back so as not to be snatched into the deep dark hall. They struggled, shouted, clutched the porch rails. But then the wind ceased.

Darkness moved within darkness.

Inside the house, a long way off, someone was walking toward the door. Whoever it was must have been dressed all in black for they could see nothing but a pale white face drifting on the air.

An evil smile came and hung in the doorway before them.

Behind the smile, the tall man hid in shadow. They could see his eyes now, small pinpoints of green fire, in little charred pits of sockets, looking out at them."

The illustrations by Joseph Mugnaini that appear throughout The Halloween Tree are shiveringly appropriate for the story told by Bradbury. The artist captures that slightly skewed angle that changes the normal into the creepy and the daytime into night. These are images that you might see in your dreams, or, if you look closely ... on All Hallows' Eve.

Carl V. at Stainless Steel Droppings is hosting the R.I.P. reading challenge again this year. The Halloween Tree would be an excellent read for those readers wishing to imbibe peril! Below are some links for R.I.P.

About the R.I.P. reading challenge
The R.I.P. VI Review Site