Getting out of his truck in the parking lot, Charlie gazed up at the sky. Grey, gloomy, a light snow was knocking the coloured leaves out of the trees.
Charlie sighed. Fall. A warm fall was fine, the kind they called an Indian summer, but the problem with fall was that it meant winter was approaching, and Charlie wasn't much of a fan of winter.
Then again, he wasn't a fan of October either. For pretty much his whole life, people had made fun of his name in October. Nobody cared that Charlie Brown was an old family name, that he was named after a popular uncle. No, right back to early days in school it was, 'Hey Charlie Brown, did you get coal for Halloween?' Or, 'Hey Charlie Brown, we were going to invite you a party, but figured you'd be out in the pumpkin patch.' Or, 'Hey Charlie Brown, are you and Linus spending the night in the patch?' The latter always with a wink wink, nudge nudge familiarity.
Hilarious.
Needless to say, Charlie Brown wasn't a fan of Halloween; hadn't really taken part in festivities since he was a young kid. And this year, despite a new job as an editor with a publishing house and being just four months in, it had started again.
Again, hilarious. A copy of the Charles M. Schultz book appeared on his desk one day, a cupcake with pumpkin frosting and a Jack O' Lantern face on it another. Someone had sent him an anonymous porn link of people fucking in Halloween costumes, someone else dumped a bag of Halloween candy kisses in his desk drawer.
Charlie sighed again as he walked to his office, waved hello to the receptionist, Dianne, who seemed to be stifling a chuckle. He hung his coat on a hook, walked back down the hall to the coffee machine and poured a black one.
Walking back to his office, past Dianne, he noticed she was about to say something. "Can you please just make it Charlie, Dianne? No need to say my entire name."
"Sure, Charlie. I was just going to say a package was delivered for you a while ago." She reached down to the floor beside her, Charlie got a glance of some nice cleavage, then she handed him a shoebox-sized package from a courier company. "Here you go, Charlie."
"Thanks," he took the package, then carried it and his coffee back to his office. He put the package on his desk and looked at it as he sipped. No doubt, he thought, it's another Halloween gag. Well, at least it was Friday.
The day passed quickly. He had a ton of work and at lunchtime, he carried the package to his truck, then drove to McSweeney's for pub grub and a pint. After taking a long lunch, he jumped back in his truck to head for the office again. The package on the seat beside him, though, caught his attention and he decided to open it.
In the parking lot again, he cut through some tape with a penknife, opened the box and fished through a bunch of packing material to find a single envelope inside. He pulled it out and looked at it... no writing, no return address, just To Charlie Brown written neatly on the front.
Charlie slit the envelope open and pulled out the note inside. He unfolded it and found it to be an invitation, very brief. Charlie Brown, it read, you are invited to the Pumpkin Patch Masquerade Ball at Blackstone House, Halloween Night, 8 p.m. It was signed, The Little Redheaded Girl.
What the hell, he thought, it figured, another Halloween prank; but it looked kind of official. And Blackstone House, downtown, was a pretty upscale and high end location. He gazed at the invitation and realized there was a faint aroma of pumpkin on it. What the? he thought. How would someone manage to do that? More importantly, he wondered, who was the Little Redheaded Girl? He didn't know any readheads.
Back at his office, Charlie decided to call the Blackstone and see if the invite was legit. Someone at the desk assured him the masquerade ball was taking place on Halloween, but had no idea who might have sent him the invitation.
In the back of his mind, Charlie wondered if the invite was one of those 'invite a nerd' or 'invite a loser' and win something pranks... where he was being invited just because of his name and where the whole thing could go pear-shaped when he arrived.
At any rate, he finished his Friday work, headed home, cracked a beer and watched a hockey game. Still, though, he couldn't help but wonder about the invitation. Whether it was legit or not.
By morning, having gone over it all in his mind over night, he'd decided. He'd suck it up and go to the Pumpkin Patch Costume Ball. Maybe this Little Redheaded Girl would be there. It could be a drag, stupid, or, he supposed, it could be a decent party and he hadn't been to one for a while. It's on, Redheaded Girl, whoever you might be, it's on.
Being Saturday, and with the ball the next evening, Charlie hit a few stores, trying to decide what he might wear to the ball. Then it struck him, if someone was trying to play him for a sucker, he might as well go all out and go as Charlie Brown from the book/comics/cartoons.
Charlie spent the morning hitting a couple of stores, buying brown shoes, yellow socks, a pair of black shorts and a large yellow collared t-shirt, even a Lone Ranger-style mask to cover his eyes. He couldn't track down a Charlie Brown-like yellow shirt with the black zig zaggy line around it, so he picked up some permanent markers to draw it on himself.
Back at home, he discovered how difficult it was to draw straight lines on a shirt with markers. After a trip back to the store for another shirt, he spent a couple of hours very, very carefully drawing the black zig zags on a new shirt.
Really, the key to the costume was the shirt, so he tried to make it as perfect as he could. He even watched an episode of It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown, to try and mimic Charlie's walk.
Putting on his costume, such as it was, he looked at himself a mirror. Not bad, he thought, not bad. Baggy shirt, shorts to his knees, shoes and socks. But something was missing. Then he realized what it was. In the books, TV shows, etc., Charlie was bald. Hmm... buy a bald wig thing? Shave his own hair off? Well, he thought, all in it was.
In the bathroom, Charlie pulled out a hair trimming kit. He looked at himself in the mirror, then started clipping his hair off. He worked slowly, switching to shorter trim levels, until, like Peanuts' Charlie Brown... he was bald. Wow, he thought, first time since a baby. He ran a hand over his now-smooth head. What the hell, he thought, if this party is a bust and people at work ask why I did it, I'll say it was for a cancer fundraiser.
Looking in the mirror again, he thought his head looked a little too white, but it would do. Now he looked more like Charlie Brown of the cartoon shows.
On the day of Halloween, Charlie watched football on TV, drank some beer, ate a couple of meals and couldn't help but wonder how going to the Masquerade Ball would end up. He knew he'd feel dopey arriving as Charlie Brown, although, he thought, nobody would actually recognize him, with the mask and his newly-shaved head. If the whole thing was stupid, he figured, he could duck out and nobody would be the wiser.
At 7 p.m., Charlie changed into his cartoon-type costume, picked up his invitation and headed out. Stepping into cold Oct. 31 air, he thought, shit, my head is freezing. Who'd want to be bald on purpose? But he jumped in his truck, drove downtown and parked in the underground parkade at Blackstone House. Stepping into an elevator, he read a poster that proclaimed the Masquerade Ball was to be held in the Grand Ballroom on the seventh floor. Charlie pressed 7, slipped on his mask and was swept upward to who knew what?
As he stepped out of the elevator on the seventh floor, Charlie was greeted by a loud band playing and hundreds of people mingling about in all manner of costume. A very busty server in a Playboy bunny costume offered to take his coat and gave him a check number while another server dressed as Elmer Fudd offered him a tray of champagne. Taking a glass, Charlie walked into the Grand Ballroom. Looking around, he could see why it was so named. The ballroom was a huge hall, disco balls were spinning high above, the floor was tiled in black and white and everywhere there were ornate window coverings, furniture, tables laid with canapés and dozens of chafing dishes were strategically placed around the room.
Charlie found a spot with a good view of the band and, seeing that the Masquerade Ball seemed legit, threw back the champagne, took another off a tray being offered by an attractive witch and filled a small plate with some food samplers. Looking around, he saw that costumes ranged from Dick Tracy to a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle (he was glad others had gone with a TV scheme), to a knockout he figured was Scarlett O'Hara, accompanied by an older Colonel Saunders looking guy who was likely supposed to be Rhett Butler.
As he looked around, mostly for a Little Redheaded Girl, he saw costumes representing Star Wars and Star Trek, superheroes like Batman and Wonder Woman, and all manner of witches, robots, Draculas and fantasy characters. As he wandered about, he moved in and out of dances with another Playboy bunny, a girl in a referee outfit who rubbed playfully against him and a Lily Munster with deep, deep cleavage who gave his crotch a squeeze when she wandered off and into the crowd.
With another champagne in hand, Charlie found himself crushed into a doorway next to a stack of speakers, just off-stage from the band. As the band switched to a rock music set, Charlie drank his third, or fourth? champagne and just took it all in. The ballroom was warm and his nostrils caught the scent of many perfumes emanating from warm bodies. Some costumes were minimalistic, others extravagant. Everywhere he looked, people he didn't, couldn't, recognize were drinking, eating, dancing and talking.
He thought he heard glass break from behind the speakers and when he bent to look behind them, he saw an Indiana Jones and a nurse passionately kissing. Looking up at the side of the stage, he saw that the bass player was also watching the pair as he played. Tongues deep in each others' mouths, as Charlie watched, Indiana popped open some buttons on the nurse's uniform and reached inside to cop a feel. That's going well, he thought.
Charlie watched as the nurse reached down to Indiana's crotch and began to rub him through his pants. As he leaned a little further to watch, someone bumped into him and almost sent him into the speakers. Angry, he turned to tell whoever it was off, only to be confronted by the biggest pumpkin, or Jack O' Lantern, he'd ever seen. And the head sticking out of the pumpkin was wearing a wig of a brilliant red like he'd never seen before. The long red hair framed a pretty face that was highlighted by a dark green mask over her eyes. Looking down, Charlie noted bright orange, very high heels, and shapely legs in green nylons.
He stepped back... he had to, as the pumpkin, with stylized fierce Jack O' Lantern face on the front, had to be three feet in diameter and there was barely room enough for the two of them in the doorway. The pumpkin's arms stuck out through the sides and had a flute of champagne in each. She offered Charlie one. He took it and smiled.
"Good grief, Charlie Brown" she shouted, with a laugh, "I'd have thought you, of all, people, would recognize The Great Pumpkin when you saw her." Yelling above the music, he noted a pleasant aroma of booze and pumpkin pie.
He leaned toward the Great Pumpkin... looking closely at her. "I'm sorry," he shouted back. "Do I know you?"
"You've been waiting in a pumpkin patch for years and years, waiting for me, Charlie Brown," she yelled back. She moved closer, leaning toward him, her pumpkin costume pressing against him. "I hardly recognized you... bald..." she laughed. "It looks good on you." She leaned back to finish her champagne and teetered a bit on her heels, then fell into him slightly. She looked up at him, "sorry, I don't wear these often."
Having caught the pumpkin, it filled his arms and she rested against him momentarily, leaving him with the odd sensation of hugging someone huge, but someone he couldn't feel. "Are you drunk?"
