Storytime Tapestry Newsletter

The newsletter devoted to spreading love and cultural awareness around the world. 

Halloween Contest  

October 30, 2006
 

Today’s announcements

How the contest works is that everyday I will post a running log of all entries published to date.  That means if you did not see your story published yet, it will not show in the list.

The rules for voting will be sent out separately after the contest ends. For seasoned readers, you know how this works already because we use the same system every contest. For new readers don’t worry, you will be given the instructions in full after the contest ends.

I still need more submissions as you know all submissions were lost with the computer crash.  So come on writers especially if you sent your story in once before please send it back to me.  I need them to make this contest a success.  The Halloween contest has always been a Storytime Tapestry favourite. Let’s not make a computer crash the reason it isn’t this year.

Because of the computer crash I am extending the deadline to submit entries, instead of closing the contest on Oct 30^th, I will accept entries until Nov 5, after that I will just run what is in the queue until there are no more stories or poems to publish.

Remember we need writers and voters to make this contest a success.

Donations are still needed to keep Storytime Tapestry afloat.  My computer costs are astronomical and the internet charges are due.  I am not working and any donation would be much appreciated. 

Thank you Clara Westerfer, moderator for Storytime Tapestry who suggested A Storytime Tapestry Angels designation.  How this works is that anyone donating $25.00 or more will become a Storytime Tapestry angel and will be permanently mentioned in the newsletter for their contribution.  Anyone donating a little as $5.00 will be thanked personally on this site at the time of receipt.

Now onto the good stuff!

Today’s Halloween Stories

~**~**~

 Halloween Horrors

By Rosanne Catalano

(a.k.a. R.C.Kayla)

Every year for Halloween I loved dressing up in different costumes and going trick or treating with my sister and brother. One year I dressed as Cinderella, then another year as Snow White, an Angel, Jack and Jill (where my sister was Jack because she was the tomboy, and I was Jill lol!), and other fun outfits that either my mom or grandmother sewed for us or they store-bought.

But I was beyond costumes at thirteen years of age when my friends, Carina, Katelyn and I had decided to go trick or treating by our school. It was a suburban community in Long Island, New York like the neighborhood where I lived with my parents, older brother and younger sister; peaceful and relatively safe thirty-five years ago.

Although none of us had ever done that in a strange neighborhood, we were up for trick or treating near the school we attended. Carina, Katelyn and I went during our hour-lunch break. Some of the homeowners commented about us being kind of old to be trick or treating; especially since we had no costumes on. We did not care. As far as we were concerned, we were still young enough to trick or treat. Plus, we had seen a lot of older teens like us also trick or treating! Everything went well in spite of the homeowners thinking we were too old. Our Halloween bags were filled to the brim. So after our lunch-hour was up, my friends and I went back to school.

When school let out we went to our respective school buses that took us to our own houses and neighborhoods, thinking nothing of an apple being amongst our candy and pennies. At least I didn’t. That could be because I loved apples, and figured one of those homeowners couldn’t afford candy and put an apple in our bags instead.

After hopping off the school bus, I walked into my parent’s home with the bag of Halloween goodies. Happily dumping the candy, money (pennies actually, for UNICEF) and apple on my mother’s kitchen table, my younger sister (who had been on the school bus with me) and I went through the candy. I picked up the apple, and turned it all ways looking for anything suspicious-looking. It looked fine so, for sanitary reasons, I ran it under cold water. Since I didn’t see anything that could harm me, I bit into the apple.

Then I saw a flash of metal, and pulled the apple out of my mouth. Looking at what was a razor blade stuck deep inside the apple, I threw the apple in the garbage pail. My eyes went wide with horror as I looked at my sister. Whose mouth was also wide open…

“OH MY GOD!” my sister said.

“I know … that could have sliced my mouth in half if I had bitten down directly on that blade,” I remember whispering.

“Just because it was by your school doesn’t mean it wasn’t a strange neighborhood, sis. You shouldn’t have trick or treated in a neighborhood you know nothing about!”

“You’re right. I definitely won’t anymore! Oh my God… let’s not tell mom or dad, ok?”

"I sure won't. Don't worry, sis."

I never did tell my parents about finding the razor blade in the apple, and neither did my younger sister; we thought they would ground me. And especially at 13…I felt if those homeowners thought we were too old to be trick or treating, so would my parents think so too.

Once I dropped the apple in the garbage pail, I tried to forget my close call ever happened… something I became adept at over the years whenever bad things occurred in my life. But this year I was talking with a dear friend about why I was a little turned off to Halloween, and she told me I should write about what happened to me. I decided I would so that it may help another child never go through what I did on my last Halloween.

Now I ask myself, “why did I trick or treat in a different area than my own neighborhood; was it to fit in with my two friends? Was I looking for approval, and that is why I thought that I, too, was up for trick or treating in a different neighborhood than my own?”  I am not sure why; I was thirteen then, I’m now forty-eight and it’s hard to remember my motive for doing Halloween in the area by my school (an unknown neighborhood!) since I did know better.

This is a true story of what actually happened to me one Halloween. The last Halloween I ever trick or treated, in my own neighborhood or ever. The year was 1971, thirty-five years ago. Things have gotten scarier for our children since, so please do be very careful this Halloween! Stick with the known. Your children and you will be safer for it!

__

Copyright © October, 2006 Rosanne Catalano

By Rosanne Catalano, (a.k.a. R.C.Kayla) ctrosanne@aol.com

Publisher:  The Cat’s Meow for Writers & Readers Ezine (an online progressive magazine); www.rosannecatalano.net

Author: Touch of Tomorrow – In Loving Memory (book of poetry, 2003) and numerous short stories, poetry and articles published in print & online, with much more to come…http://www.rosannecatalano.net/links.htm

Blog: http://thecatsmeowforwritersreaders.blogspot.com

Senior Writer: Storytime Tapestry newsletter; http://subs.zinester.com/98907

COMING SOON: Columnist for Wt~In Spirit literary magazine; http://www.wynter.ca

~**~**~

I Stood In The Rain

Michael Smith

 
My hand slipped, giving the black cat a lumpy nose. Fur rose on it’s back. It’s fluffed tail stood straight in the air, as it hissed at a ghost rising from the ground. I grabbed an orange crayon and began to trace the outline of a Jack-O-Lantern, careful to stay inside the lines and not make the same mistake I did with the cat. I wanted my Jack-O-Lantern to be perfect.
 
On my right, Rosemary was almost finished. She was fast and really good. She was the best colorer in our four-room school. My crayon twirled in small circles, carefully filling the pumpkin with orange. I reached the teeth – the hardest part.

Everything was fine, until the last tooth. My crayon caught in a crease in the desk under the paper. The crayon followed it and caused me to go outside the lines. To correct my mistake, I made
that tooth bigger than the rest, ruining my pumpkin’s toothy grin. Then again, maybe it made it scarier.
 
The bell rang. “Be careful tonight, children. Have fun trick- or-treating. I want you to write a story about your evening when you come to school tomorrow.”
 
I rushed home and burst through the door, “Mum? Mum, when can I go out?”
 
”Michael, I’ve told you a hundred times this week, you can’t go out until it’s dark. Do your homework first. When you’re done, you can have your supper and then get dressed.”
 
The smell of fried bologna and boiled potatoes drifted to my room. My stomach growled, as I completed my additions.
 
 “Michael, supper’s ready.” Mum called. I closed my scribbler and rushed to the table, ready to eat and get my costume on.
 
My thoughts were on the night ahead, as I spread butter on the steaming potatoes and then smothered the bologna and potatoes with Ketchup©. Normally, this was a meal I savored, but it was Halloween. I woofed my dinner down.

“Mum? Time to get ready?” I stared at her anxiously.

The sun slipped behind the tress across the street. “Ok, I guess it’s time.”
 
Mum helped me dress. Like most years, I was a hobo. We didn’t have fancy “Star Wars’” or “Ninja Turtle” costumes back then. We had plastic masks of scary, old men handed down from my older
brothers. I slipped on a black pair of pants several sizes too large for me, and threaded my arms through the sleeves of a plaid checkered shirt.
 

Mum helped me feed a piece of rope through the belt holes and tied it tight around my waist. My winter boots completed the outfit. We adjusted the mask on my face – eyes aligned with the holes.

“Be careful!” Mum called after me.

I tilted my head, held the railing, and tried to see the steps through the holes in my mask. My pillow sack was slung over my shoulder.  In a few hours it would hang like an anchor, slowing me down.
 
I knocked on the door.” Is Justin ready?” I asked.
 
”He sure is!” his mom said. “He’s been waiting for you.”

Justin Gilkie was my best friend back then. We planned to walk through the whole village of Sambro. He was dressed as a pirate and had a real sword from the nose of a swordfish. The scars on his mask, with red paint for blood, look real in the growing twilight.
 
”How much do you think we’ll get?” Justin asked.

“If we walk all the way to ‘The Basin,’ We’ll have more than we can carry.”

The Basin was on the other side of Sambro.
 
”I hope we get lots of candy and chips. I hate it when we get too many apples.” He said.

 “I heard Martha’s mom is giving candy apples.” I said.

“OK! I like those, but regular apples seem cheap to me.”

We reached the end of the point, and began to walk from house-to-house. Friends joined us. Sweat beaded on our faces under the masks. Between stops, we’d lift the masks to cool off. In a few hours, we walked dirt roads, climbed steep hills, stumbled back down them, and knocked on doors until our
knuckles were sore.
 
I stood behind my friends, as Justin knocked on my door. My mum looked out and began handing out candy.

“Michael! You can’t fool me!” My face turned red under my mask.

“Let’s try my mom.” Justin said. She caught on too.

****************************
”I’m tired.” I said.

“Me too.” Justin replied, his mask resting on the top on his head. The elastic band holding it, tangled in the hair at the back of his head. “I got enough! Most houses are out of stuff anyway. Let’s go home.”
 
My legs hurt. Sweat rolled down my spine, and my feet ached from the heavy boots. I wanted to go home and see what I got. “OK! Let’s go home. Tomorrow, let’s get up early and look for firecrackers the big kids dropped. I wonder whose outhouse gets turned over?”
 
In my bedroom, I spilled the contents of my pillow cloth onto my bed: chocolate, sweet candies, potato chips, and so many wonderful things. I stuffed it back in my bag and hid it from my brothers under my bed.
********************************
I stood by a light pole and watched little kids run from their parent’s cars to the front door of our house. They knocked, gathered the candy my mum handed out, and rushed back to their parent’s cars. Heavy rain beat down on me.
 

I was thirteen – a year of change. I wanted to be little and gather candy. I wanted to be older and join the big kids in their mischief – lighting firecrackers, throwing rolls of toilet paper over tree limbs, or even rolling over an outhouse.

The rain beat down. I walked home. “You miss going out, don’t you?” Mum asked, as I walked in the door, dripping water on the floor.
 

“No, I’m OK.”
 

She looked at me and handed me a bag. “I saved some for you.”

I went to bed, cherishing the bag Mum handed me.
*************************************
It was the first big change of my life. I was too old to trick-or-treat. Toys were left in a box under my bed. Cars, dating, and freedom were in my future. I was at the in-between stage.
 
Years later, I learned that night was the beginning of many changes. I’d grow comfortable, think everything was right in my life, and once again stand in the rain.

I went to work and learned layoffs were coming. I wanted to stay where I was, comfortable in my surroundings. The future was unknown.
I stood in the rain.

A job offer came. It was in another province. I didn’t want to move from what I knew.

I stood in the rain.
 
I met new people, experienced new things, settled down, and in a few years, another job came to an end.
 
I stood in the rain.
 
Dressing up and knocking on doors ended a long time ago. Today, I stand in the rain, knock on new doors, hold out my pillow cloth, and wait to see what treat life will fill it with.

Michael T. Smith
 
To read more of my stories, or to sign up to receive weekly stories, go to: http://subs.zinester.com/86758
 
http://archives.zinester.com/86758/110785.html
http://subs.zinester.com/86758
http://archives.zinester.com/86758
 

Halloween Poems

~**~**~

 Halloween

By Nell Berry  

10/23/06

That dreadful night, the night of Halloween,

when o'er the ghostly glade, so dark no one could be seen,

for miles was heard a ghastly, spine chilling scream.

No blood curdling scream e'er pierced the night,

no heart stopping cry was e'er heard to cause fright

on that unholiest night.

When out of the mist, a heart wrenching triste,

so mournful and sad,

a murmuring wail, a loud lamentation so strong,

yet frail,

came out of the fog.

What horror I felt, my heart like a log,

ne'er stopped it's beating.

Then suddenly this wail, began repeating,

the mournful lamentation, the sound so horrific,

the noise so terrific.

Then as if by decree, the sound so utterly unholy,

I could not believe what my mind did perceive.

The sound so horrific, the noise so terrific--------------

was coming from----------------------

ME.

Nell Berry

lberry001@centurytel.net

If you would like to reread any entry before voting please go to the archives where they are permanently listed according to date of publication and contributing writer’s name:  http://archives.zinester.com/98907/

Published Halloween entries to date:

Name:                            Contest Title                                              Date  

Apted, Violet                  Halloween Green                                       Oct 28,

Apted, Violet                  Whatever Happened to Grandma?           Oct 28

Apted, Violet                  A Thunderstorm To Remember                Oct 28

Booher, Paula               I Wouldn’t Go There if I Were You          Oct 29

Catalano, Rosanne       Halloween Horrors                                    Oct 30

Smith, Michael              I Stood in the Rain                                     Oct 30

Berry, Nell                    Halloween                                                  Oct 30

Readers Feedback

A big congratulations for restoring Storytime Tapestry back online after a short break!!!

Loosing a computer is like missing a child who has gone to a boarding school.  It could be stressful thinking of what to do in bringing back the system to work.

So thanks to Her Legendary, Story Mistress Lady Carol Roach, the one I always refer to as ‘Wonder Lady’ or ‘Lady of Stories’.

More grease to Storytime Tapestry GROUP in Jesus Name – AMEN!

GEORGEWATERS OJEIGBE – Lagos, Nigeria

Wow--what a story Paula--"I wouldn't go there if I were you". I could not stop reading.

S K Jandu

 Hi Carol,

I went into Storytime Tapestry to see how to comment on the submissions and could not find a way to do that so I decided to send this off to you.  Just wanted to you know that I savored each and every word and totally enjoyed reading these Halloween submissions!  Great writing Violet!!!  Thanks for sharing them.      

Lori

Senior Writers

Chief writer: Sharon Bryant

Chief researcher/historian: Hartson Dowd

Agee, Vance; Apted, Violet; Baker, Kathy; Batt, Al; Berry, Nell; Blaine, Pamela; Boda, Ginger; Booher, Paula; Buhagiar, Victor; Cassady, B.J.; Costner, Joan Clifton; Cavalera, Robyn; Crider, Mark; Dees, Mary; Deming, Barb; Doherty, Maria;  Dowd, Hartson; Dowd, Helen; Gilbert, Robert, Jr.; Gold, Ron; Goodier, Steve; Grisham, Mary-Ellen; Braun-Haley, Ellie; Harris, Kathy Anne; Henry, Linda Ann; Hunt, Sharlett; Hymes, Christina; Jacobson, Gary; Kiser, Roger Dean; Kerens, Claudia; Kevin, Tim; Jenkins, Pamela; Liles, Norma; Lily Jodi Flesberg; Lock, Joyce; Marlor, Janice Bumbalough; Mazzella, Joe; Meeks, Carol; Mizrany, Mary Carter; Morris, Deepak; Ojeibge, Georgewaters; Petry, Dianna Doles; Roberts, Susan; Shiveley, Debra; Shaw, Bob; Sims, Richard; Smith; Michael; Streidel, Saskia; Swarner, Ken; Vaknin, Sam; Verhoeff, Jan; Walker, Bill; Walker, Joe; Warner, Gordon, K; Walsh, Sue; Weymouth, Barbara J.; Whirity, Kathy;

Wainland, David; Westerfer, Clara; White Robert;

Storytime Tapestry Staff

Carol Roach - Founder/publisher

Thelma Hartselle - Co-Founder, Moderator

Clara Westerfer – moderator

Bob Johnston - moderator