On Bolas Road by Eddie Cawley

It was a cold, crisp night, with shouts of screaming kids grabbing candy from innocent owners, and smells of fruity pieces and chocolate bars wafting through the air. Amidst all of this, my friends and I were pouncing up the driveway of a rather dark, and drab- looking house. Nevertheless, we still were going to hit it, and have a good laugh while doing it. To our delight, there was a basket sitting on the top of the stairs just waiting for greedy, sixth grade hands to yank handfuls and handfuls out. The candy was staring at us, and daring us to take it home. My friends and I did this except we were getting cocky, especially when we made the decision to take the wicker basket along with us. The basket was nice and smooth, a perfect basket for housing candy. As one might know, baskets are a kid's dream on Halloween. No watchful eyes are guarding it, and no cranky adults to yell at you. So, we did what we ordinarily done at every "basket house" that we had come across, and each took a turn at dumping the scattered remains into our bags. The only problem was that the house was surrounded by transparent windows, capable of showing people what mischievous acts we were up to. It was a perfect mix of Kit Kats and Starbursts, so who could blame us. We were not committing a federal crime or anything like it, just merely being kids and yearning more candy for the grueling, cold, sugarless nights that lie dead ahead in November, December, and January. But apparently to a guarding eye inside the house we were criminals. Just as we started to move forward onto the next house, we all heard a voice ordering, "Stop!". A female had appeared at the door with an angry look residing on her face. She had blonde hair like Medusa's snakes, because it was all messy and she was fairly short as well. We did not really want to stop and have a chat with this lovely lady on Halloween, so we turned around and booked it. The driveway was decently long, thus giving the lady enough time to get her ever-so-tough husband out of the house to give the troubled kids a good yelling. The man shouted, "Duckin Bathholes!" We glanced backwards and started to run again. This pleasant man was not the type of person I wanted to speak with either. We were happy that we got away with a boatload of candy, but what happened next mystified us. The man got in his car, and to our amazement started pulling down the driveway! The nerve that guy must have had! We really put on the wheels now, and flew down Bolas Road, not sure if the guy intended on putting up a chase. At the moment, we were faster than Usain Bolt. After about 10 houses, we turned around and noticed there was a car aways behind us. It stopped when we stopped and moved when we moved. Intending on finding out what this was about, we started to slowly move in the general direction of the car under the cover of some bushes of course. While spying on the car from the rough thickets and brambles of the wooded area, a familiar Yukon XL passed the supposed stalker's car. We crawled out of the bushes, and brushed ourselves off, so that my mother would not have any suspicious ideas or questions. None of us wanted to face the wrath of my mom if she found out about the night. My car pulled up on the side of the road and all of us piled into the back, downing the cups of water that my mom had graciously brought for our dry, sugared mouthes. Unlike other Halloweens we were not all tired, but curious on who was in that car. My mom smiled and questioned us about the night. She asked, "How was our time, and did we behave ourselves." I slickly replied, "Yeah, it was okay, but we are all getting too old for this. And yeah we were awesome, and didn't cause any ruckus."