Tricks and Treats
Photo provided by The Associated Press.
Ever since coming to college about once a year or so I have something exceptionally strange happen to me.
Sunday it was two pranksters in scream masks chasing terrified students outside of Benson.
Our Halloween traditions have a long and complicated history. During the Celtic celebrations of Samhain, people would dress in costumes made of animal skins to drive away phantom visitors, and later during the medieval age young people would go “guising” and perform some sort of “trick” such as singing or reciting a poem, in exchange for a “treat”. During the Great Depression Halloween mischief often turned more serious into vandalism, physical assaults or excessive pranks.
That night we had our treats, but we also got to see a very unusual trick. It scared the living daylights out of us.
My friend ran in, looking over her shoulder and told us what happened - she just saw these two people in black cloaks and “scream” masks running at people with what was (maybe) a fake knife outside of the cafeteria - and that we should get going ASAP.
It’s Halloween. I get it. I love Halloween: the decorations, the fun costumes, the candy! But my heartbeat went up to a million miles an hour when I saw something looking like a knife.
So there we were at the mission, handing out books and ushering folks. We brought some sweet Halloween treats for hospitality later, and ran from Benson there. We thought we dodged the scream masked people, and it was already dark out. Out of the night, emerged two figures. I tapped my friend’s shoulder. “No way, bro!” my jaw dropped.
They were coming.
Time slowed down and I started laughing, I felt like running. Instead my feet brought me to the steps of the door, against my better judgment, and I had two books in my hand. “Good evening!” I smiled broadly, trying to look as official as possible, “We’re just about to start mass and all are welcome! But we do require that you remove these.” I pointed at the stretched out, screaming, skeletal things plastered on their faces. They politely took the books, looked thoughtfully around at some of the paintings, and then put their hands together and bowed before heading out.
I think I may have scared them.
My heart was beating through my throat, and I dropped to the floor for a moment flying high on the adrenaline, before bouncing back up.
“We did it! We were hospitable!” I shouted manically high fiving one of my friends as Campus Safety started checking the area, “You just got to kill ‘em with kindness!”
And somehow it’s only the second weirdest thing I’ve seen here at this school.