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Continued from page 51…
Sunday, October 31st, 1984, 4:24 P.M.
The sounds of tiny screams and laughter filled the air as Gina poured another bag of Kit-Kats into the giant, plastic pumpkin that she used to serve the kids in her neighborhood. Trick-or-Treating had been in full swing for a little over an hour now and Gina had been standing out front of her house, sipping out of her handled, thermos-like, coffee mug, occasionally munching on a piece of candy, and generally relishing in the ambience of the magnificent neighborhood she chose to live in after the bountiful paychecks started rolling in. Earlier in the day, she had been to the grocery store stocking up on food, candy, and assorted other items as she waited for Jane to drop by. Luckily, Halloween fell on a Sunday of this year and it was the girl’s day off.
This year, Gina had concocted a classic, court jester costume that she and Jane had whipped-up sometime in the previous week in preparation for the day’s events. Jane was a natural at designing clothes and had also promised to come over to the house to socialize with the parents of the neighborhood, help hand out candy, and, of course, party with Gina. As to be expected, Gina had already brewed-up some Halloween hot cider and nutmeg with the obligatory spirits infused, and was happily feeling the effects at this point in the early evening. Hence, the inhabitants of the coffee mug.
As she looked up from her receptacle of candy, she spied a group of four children prancing up to her front doorway all ready to sing out the famous phrase—
“Trick-or-Treat!” they all yelled in unison.
Gina was overwhelmed. They were so insanely adorable in their assorted costumes, she had no choice but to stand back and catch her breath.
“Hey, guys!!” she greeted. “Happy Halloween!”
As the privileged, little puppies began digging into Gina’s pumpkin, all taking more than their fair share, Gina noticed Rita Ekblad and her husband, Aaron, coming up behind them on the front lawn. They were also accompanied by some other woman that Gina did not recognize. Rita had a glass of wine in her hand and Aaron had a bottle of Corona.
“Hi, Gina,” said Rita. “Happy Halloween… Nice costume.”
“Hey, Rita.. Hi, Aaron,” she returned. “What’s goin’ on? I see you guys are celebrating already.”
“Oh, yeah, we didn’t feel like waitin’ around,” said Rita, referring to the booze they both were carrying. “Of course, HE started about two hours ago,” she added, nodding her head towards her husband. “While I was getting the kid’s costumes ready, he was already cracking open a beer and feeding his face.” Like many wives, Rita couldn’t help but belittle her better-half for her own, perceived and/or authentic insecurities.
Gina laughed, but like many other times, she felt uncomfortable trying to relate to the numerous other married couples that frequented her life. Being single, it perturbed her that she had to come up with the usual, stock response to their nondescript, domestic sayings. To her, it always felt like many of them were doing it on purpose; almost as if they were rubbing it in. Also, being an entertainment superstar, Gina often felt amazed that she had to feel like a little kid in front of these people. Standing there in a Halloween costume didn’t exactly do wonders to dissuade her theory either.
But now, the redemption would come.
Gina would get her chance to put some nosey neighbors in their place; albeit sarcastically.
“Gina.. this is my friend, Sandy,” said Rita, extending her arm out in a standard greeting. “I told her it was okay to come with us to meet a famous person… She’s a big fan of yours.”
Gina stuck her hand out as she and Sandy shook hands.
“Hi, nice to meet you,” said Gina.
“Oh, wow, I can’t believe I’m meeting you,” gushed Sandy. “I watch your show all the time… I’ve got all your albums.”
“That’s nice to hear,” said Gina. “It’s always nice to hear that someone watches our show AND buys all our albums.”
As the group stood there and chuckled at Gina’s comment, one of the kids started dancing around, singing some familiar lyrics and playing his air guitar—
“We got the beat, der-der, der-der-der.. We got the beat, der-der, der-der-der.”
Well, needless to say, this caused the group to laugh even harder. Especially since this precocious, little offspring was the product of Mr. and Mrs. Ekblad themselves.
“Isn’t he precious?” asked Rita. “I’m telling you, Gina, he is a budding young entertainer. He’s got the show-business gene inside of him, I swear… You’re gonna have to get him on The Go-Go’s. He would fit in perfectly.”
As Gina could feel the bile rising up and filling her esophagus, she politely managed to conjure up one of her many, fake smiles and returned the response that so many show-business folks had to do at various points in their lives.
“Ohhh, I’m afraid I don’t have any control over that,” corrected Gina. “As much as I’d like to see this talented little bugger on my television show, I just don’t have any say on who gets on or not.”
“Well, you’re just gonna have to try,” demanded Rita with a laugh. Gina knew she was being facetious.
As the rest of the bunch continued this conversation about the riveting, young lad and his astonishing guitar playing, Gina looked over and saw something that sent chills down her spine in a way she hadn’t felt in a long time.
There, standing on the sidewalk out front of her house, was a man dressed in a Michael Myers costume, staring directly at Gina. Not only did he have the William Shatner mask on, he was also donning the dark, mechanic’s overalls that Michael enjoyed wearing on his murderous outings.
Obviously, Gina could only hope that this was some kind of a lighthearted, Halloween prank, and that the man, whoever he was, was just trying to scare the bejeezus out of everyone in the circle.
But he kept staring and wouldn’t budge.
Gina swallowed nervously and stared back as her heart started pounding. She had blocked-out the voices of her fellow associates as she put herself into a momentary dreamscape. As she was already aware of, having stalkers was all a part of being in show-business, and Gina herself had received many pieces of fan mail that, unfortunately, detailed the various acts of debauchery that these psychos were willing to perpetrate upon her.
At some point, Rita had asked Gina a question that she could not hear. Her descent into the world of the surreal had caused Gina to be in a trance. Eventually, however, Gina snapped back into reality and addressed the crowd.
“Huh?” she stammered.
“Gina, are you alright?” asked Rita, as she could see that Gina was visibly shaken by something.
“No.. uh.. it’s that man right there,” Gina claimed. She didn’t want to point him out at first, out of fear, but did it anyway.
Mr. Myers was still standing there, unmoved by his discovery from the group.
As they all gasped, not knowing how to react, small tidbits of inquiries slowly began to emerge from their mouths.
“Who is that?” asked Sandy.
“I sure hope that’s a costume and not the real thing,” added Aaron.
Gina could not speak. She had an intrinsic, uncanny feeling that this was a bad situation. It consumed and enveloped her in a blanket of terror that rendered her speechless.
She was right.
Dylan Strome had finally made his way from Illinois and was now standing in front of the woman he was obsessed with.
What would he do next?