FICTION
Happy Halloween
Diana Fitzgerald Bryden
The street is much quieter than Herman had expected. But then he is thinking of Halloween from three years ago, when he last sat on his porch and handed out candy to toddlers and teenagers. He had only refused one group, where the boys were obviously at least 19. They should be getting their treats in someoneās basement or at a bar, and he told them so.
They told him to fuck off and one of them kicked over the pumpkin. But no real harm done. Thatās the last Halloween he remembers because soon after that he had his stroke, hovered between life and death in a coma for over a year, and then died. So heās not exactly up to speed on world developments.
He thought heād have fun being a ghost on Halloween but he hadnāt figured that no one would be able to see him. Or that there would be so few people celebrating. Where is everybody?
He drifts along his old street and stands there looking at his house. Nothing on the porch. There are lights on upstairs and some half-hearted Halloween decorations on the lawn: a cellophane witch smushed into the tree plus some graveyard items: a severed thumb, a rat, a Styrofoam headstone for I. B. Deadābut no one handing out candy and no trick or treaters.
Itās the same for most of the houses on the street. Ah, wait, he sees some kids. Herman floats over to see if he can recognize them. Itās frustrating, he canāt pick his pace. Ghostly bodies seem to move to their own time, kind of like moonwalkers. If he tries to take a huge step it doesnāt get him any further ahead, so he tries instead to relax and drift, afraid heās going to lose them.
When he gets close, he can see itās Mac the cop and his little girl, Siena, whoās four. No, six maybe. She was four when he died, though he canāt remember exactly because of the coma. Siena is a cutie-pie. Macās parents are Korean and his wife is from Scotland. Siena has Macās beautiful eyes and Rebeccaās blonde hair. Her half-brother Kai is seven years older than her and he spoils her, so she is used to getting what she wants. Herman is used to seeing Mac, Rebecca or Kai racing after Siena, trying to stop her from falling and smashing her head or running into the street. Was used to. He keeps forgetting heās dead.
Siena is dressed as a hotdog and is waddling along with Mac, one hand holding his, a plastic pumpkin bucket in the other. Herman tries to peer inside the bucket and nudges the little girl by accident. She giggles.
āExcuse me,ā he says, expecting Mac to ask him what the hell heās doing but Mac canāt see him. Whatās the good of being a ghost if they donāt know youāre there? He looks around to discern if there are any other ghosts, and if they can see each other, but as far as he can tell heās the only one.
There are construction cones all along the street in weird triangulated formations and white signs with pink and blue lettering stuck to the cones. Stay 2 metres apart. Two blue stick figures on the sign have a fat blue arrow indicating the distance between them. As Herman passes Mac and Siena, he sees that theyāre both wearing masks that cover the lower half of their faces. Sienaās is pink and clashes with her costume. Macās is black with white lettering that says Black Lives Matter. Strange. Why wouldnāt they? And what does it mean? Mac and Siena donāt seem to notice the signs and traffic cones. They arenāt standing two metres apart from each other, but a man coming along the sidewalk facing them steps onto the road, walking away from them and around a cone. Thereās a car behind him but he doesnāt care and the car doesnāt honk or anything.
Herman wants to ask him why heās doing that, what the signs are, and what the fuck is going on. When the car has passed, the man turns and calls out, āHey, Mac. Howās it going?ā Mac waves at him.
āPretty good.ā
āYou know if weāre going to Level 3 this week?ā
āSorry bud, no idea.ā
āThey donāt tell cops in advance?ā
Mac shrugs. āI know as much as you do.ā
āOk, have a good night. Happy Halloween.ā
Mac gives him a thumbs-up. Siena is jumping up and down. āAppa, hurry. I want more candy.ā
Herman wanders along and sees a few more people, some wearing masks like Mac and Siena, some not, but all of them staying well away from each other. When he gets down to Gerrard Street, he is shocked. What has happened? Half the stores he knows have shut. Some are boarded up. Has there been an economic catastrophe? Did 2008 happen again?
He passes a bus shelter and looks at an ad scrolling up the glass: All TTC Passengers Must Wear A Mask. And another: Support Our Health Care Heroes. He passes the Chinese bakery where he used to stop for coconut buns and sees a woman inside cleaning up. She is wearing a mask too. It occurs to him that he could go in, probably. Can a ghost walk through locked doors?
He tries it. It doesnāt work at first so he shuts his eyes and tries to imagine himself on the other side. And heās in. He canāt smell anything though. Is that another ghost thing? There are loops of red tape closing off tables and chairs and a sign that says Take Out Only. The woman sprays a display case and wipes it, oblivious to Herman.
The TV is on and he stands in front of it, hoping itāll give him some insight into whatās happened to the world. An angry looking news anchor is gesticulating while figures scroll up the screen beside him. 250,000 deaths. Suddenly Herman realizes heās not alone. A small Chinese man is standing beside him. āTerrible, isnāt it?ā he says.
Herman looks around to see if heās talking to someone else. The man looks right at him and Herman recognizes him. Heās the owner of the bakery. āMy wife,ā the man says, nodding at the woman cleaning. He nods at Herman. āCoconut bun, right?ā
āYou can see me?ā
āIām like you,ā the man says. āCouple months ago. Now my wife is alone, and times are hard.ā
āBut whatās going on? Iām so confused.ā Herman says.
āWhen did you die?ā the man asks him.
āIām not sure. I think I was in hospital for a while.ā
āOh, so maybe you donāt know about COVID.ā
āWhat?ā
āI donāt remember the scientific name. A new virus. Itās highly contagious.ā
āIs that how you died?ā
āNo, cancer. It was hard. My wife couldnāt come to the hospital. My daughters werenāt allowed to travel. I said goodbye to them on my iPad.ā
Herman is horrified. āWhat?ā
āYeah. No visitors.ā
āIām Jimmy, by the wayā the man says. āYou have a wife and kids?ā
āNo,ā Herman says. āMy husband died five years ago. I live alone. Your wife canāt see you?ā
āNo. But sometimes I think she knows Iām around. She curses me out, like she used to. I come to see how sheās doing at the shop. Wasnāt sure how much longer sheād be able to stay open. But she may be okay. We still get a fair bit of business, most of our customers are like you, just grab and go. And the coffee is good as ever.ā
Herman doesnāt say anything. The coffee is terrible. He tried it twice. Jimmy waits a beat and elbows Herman, laughing so loudly that Herman jumps, though he canāt feel the elbow.
āThe coffee is shit,ā Jimmy says. āAlways was, still is, Iām sure. She...