That’s little Timmy, Death said. I think you can figure out pretty quickly what’s been keeping him here.

  *Yes. I can help him.*

  Ever was trailing a bit behind the group, tracking the ghost of the boy. His dinosaur tail wagged as he walked, inches off the ground. He followed Zoe and Taylor, who were chatting a few feet ahead. The latter looked back over her shoulder at him. “Hurry up dude, you’re falling behind.”

  Ever jogged up to them, handing Taylor his fake scythe. “Hey I’m sorry to do this, but I’ve got to go. Could you bring this back to the ice cream store?”

  “Is everything alright?” Zoe said. As hard as it was to see her facial expressions, he could hear the concern in her voice.

  “I’m OK, I just…” he started looking around, like he’d lost track of somebody. “I’ve got to go home for a second.” Without another word, he turned on his heel and ran back to Mimi’s house, black hood flapping behind him.

  —--

  ^Hello Ever!^ Mimi woofed, wagging her tail.

  “Hi Mimi,” Ever said. In one movement, he pulled the cloth over his head and went into reaper mode. “I’ve got to do a reaping, I’ll be back soon.”

  ^Oh OK.^ A slightly sad whine. Her tail stopped wagging.

  Ever whooshed back out of the house, retracing his steps. It didn’t take him long to find Taylor and Zoe. They had broken away from the group of kids from earlier. While they walked together, they had stopped talking. He floated ahead and turned on the spot. Where had Timmy gone? He flew around, visiting house by house. Car headlights pierced the darkness as tired parents drove kids high on sugar home. He even asked some of the actual ghosts floating around if they had seen a child ghost, trick or treating.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Do you mean him?” A kindly soul rasped, floating at a slight slant. He pointed a diaphanous finger towards a pale, milky form near a tree, head down.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Ever floated towards Timmy, slowing down as he got a bit closer.

  “Timmy,” Ever said gently.

  The boy jolted up, surprised. He dragged the dinosaur hood covering his eyes off. “Hey mister, how did you know my name?”

  “My teacher has a big book. He told me your name.”

  “Oh.” He looked down at his empty bucket.

  Ever crouched, laying the scythe down to float an inch off the grass. “The adults can’t see you, you know.”

  “So I’m never going to get treats?”

  “They can’t see you – but I can.”

  The scythe silently roared, burning with possibility:

  SENSES

  Hearing

  Smell

  Touch

  Sight

  Taste

  Surely it was just the last option? He selected ‘Taste’; the scythe didn’t respond.

  “Timmy,” Ever said. The boy looked at him with big, trusting eyes. “Besides the taste, what do you like most about the treats you get from Halloween?”

  “I like opening them!” He chirped. “It’s like a surprise every time you open one.”

  Interesting. Ever looked back at the remaining options. He picked ‘Touch’, paused and then picked ‘Sight’ as well.

  Like picking a lock, the scythe responded to the specific combination. It warped into a woven basket of treats like the one the old couple had. Timmy’s eyes shone, a smile growing across his face. He reached for it, only for Ever to playfully pull back.

  "Say the words."

  Timmy grinned from ear to ear. “Trick or Treat!”