A Short Story: the Origin of Halloween Town Parades Part One

Hello everyone!  I planned to post this story last week but didn't finish it in time.  On top of that it is longer than I expected, so enjoy part one! Part two coming next week.  

 PART ONE 

“I would like, if I may, to take you on a strange journey.”

-The Criminologist, 

"The Rocky Horror Picture Show"-

Leola got up one Saturday, like most Saturdays, and went to Mrs. Elizabeth Kerbs’ house to help her with gardening and other odds and ends.  Mrs. Kerbs loved her garden, she was the head of the gardening community and she kept a steady eye on each flower and made sure even the smallest weeds were plucked  That was one of Leola’s jobs.  Leola had helped her for many weeks and came to learn that she loved gardening herself, but more so she loved Mrs. Kerbs, and hearing her stories.  Elizabeth Kerbs liked to tell them too, mostly.  

“Mrs. Kerbs,” Leola asked her later that day when she was pulling weeds. “What happened after you moved here from Switzerland?” That was where she had left off after all.  Elizabeth Kerbs was telling the story of her life, back when she was Elizabeth Oehmer to when she moved to America, why she moved, and other parts that she hadn’t gotten to yet.  

Elizabeth looked up, she had been weeding a small section along with Leola but stopped to fan herself with a paper fan.  Her brow furrowed and she looked concerned. Leola didn't have the slightest idea why.

"Leola, it's awfully hot out here. I would like to go inside for a bit." Leola stayed a moment longer, tore a couple more weeds out of the ground, stood up, brushed dirt off her skirt, and followed Mrs. Kerbs. 

“Leola, I don’t know why I have been hesitant to continue the story.  Well,” she clapped her hands and found an apron. “Would you like to help me make a loaf of bread?” Leola smiled and took the apron that Mrs. Kerbs held out.  They began baking and Mrs. Kerbs poked instructions in between bits of the story so seamlessly that it never disturbed the story.  

“Well, let's see.  Remember that my family and I came to America, it was my Mother, Father, younger brother and I.  We moved to Philadelphia, and about two years later my mother had another baby.  You have to understand, we were very poor and it was hard for us to have enough food and keep warm.  When my mother was pregnant she got very sick, no one would tell me why, but when it was time for the baby to come out, my mother was too weak and we didn’t have enough money for a better doctor.  So then, my mother died and so did the baby.” Leola gasped, how could she respond?  She didn’t have to say anything, though, and Mrs. Kerbs started again.  

“Oh,” with a big smile on her face, “Now, it is time for the yeast mixture I made earlier. It is just over in the back counter, would you mind bringing it here Leola?”  Leola didn’t move, she stood, eyes wide staring at the side of Mrs. Kerb’s face.  She brushed a bit of flour off her hands and began to cry.  “Oh, dear Leola, don’t cry.” Mrs. Kerbs pulled Leola towards her and she pressed her face into the older woman's apron. After a moment she lifted the girls wet face in her hands and looked into her eyes.  “I am not crying now, it happened so long ago.  Leola, there is no need to be sad.”  

Leola nodded.  “Okay,” she said, and wiped her tears away with both fists.  “You can go on now,” and she went to the other counter to retrieve the yeast mixture.  Mrs. Kerbs didn’t go on, not yet at least.  She frowned and watched Leola glide across the kitchen.  

“Dear, I don’t think I should go on, I must tell you the tale does not get better, are you sure you want me to?” Leola looked aghast for a moment, aghast at the notion that it could get worse, but then she steadied herself and wiped the expression from her face.  

“Yes,” she set the cup of yeast and hot water down and slightly tugged at Mrs. Kerb’s apron, “You must go on.  I would rather know the truth than be happy about it.  I will never sleep again without knowing what happens.”  Leola’s pleading was so extreme and sincere and desperate that Elizabeth looked worried for a moment, but then she steadied herself just like Leola had a moment before.  

“Alright, well, after my mother died— yes, just like that, pour all the yeast in with the flour— anyway, after my mother died my father was devastated. It was so sudden and unexpected that he didn’t know what to do with himself.  So he left the house.  Yes..." she said as she recollected the memories that decades lay between. "He left with almost all the money we had and got drunk, so bad he didn’t know what he was doing and would never be able to tell anyone if he could.”  She was staring down at her fingers as Leola stirred but looked up now as Leola realized what she said. 

"What do you mean if he could?" 

"Well, he never came back." 

For a moment Leola breathed in shallow gasps but then breathed deeply, and set down the wooden spoon to begin kneading the dough and listened as Mrs. Kerbs started again.

"It was so long ago, but I always wonder where he went and why they never found him or his body.  I know he must've died or done something.  But really there is no way of knowing." 

The bread was kneaded to perfection and Mrs. Kerbs instructed Leola on what to do next. 

"Is there more to the story?" 

"Oh, child yes, I was an orphan. There is nothing left to the story that is nearly as tragic, though.  Just lots of pain, hurt, and confusion for two little children who had no choice and just got pulled into everything without knowing anything."  She said it with an out of place and odd smile on her face. 

"That seems pretty tragic to me Mrs. Kerbs." She just shrugged.

"Yes, I suppose so." 

They finished up baking day, but Mrs. Kerbs didn't tell the rest of the story.  Leola didn't go to Elizabeth Kerbs’ house the next day, but she couldn’t stay away for long, it was autumn, and Hallow’s Eve was in only a week.  Mrs. Kerbs’ and Leola were making pies.  The town of Hiawatha, Kansas, where they lived, hosted a festival each year on Hallows Eve.  They played games and carried on traditions thousands of years old, carried over from other countries. Traditions when the action or activity stays the same but the meaning behind changes. 

"Mrs. Kerbs, what is Hallows Eve for? Anything except fun?"  Leola asked as she peeled apples for a pie. 

"Yes, I believe it is, but Halloween is one of the oldest holidays or celebrations, so over the years the original meaning has changed.  It wasn't even originally called Hallows Eve.  It started with people who lived in a different country, spoke a different language, and believed much differently than us.”

“Hmn,” Leola looked like she was about to ask another question, but she just shrugged her shoulders and continued peeling apple after apple. 

Then, in what felt like no time at all, the harvest festival arrived.  It was a very special holiday for her, but not so much the actual festival, what she really liked was making all the pies with Mrs. Kerbs. They made scores of pies, at least that is what it seemed to Leola; they made pies for a pie eating contest and also to sell. 

Most of the pies were sold now, the contest was over and so was most of the festival, it was getting dark. 

“Leola!” Mrs. Kerbs bellowed from inside the tent filled with the scent of apple pies.  Leola hurried inside after the voice to see what her next task was.  

“I believe it is time for you to go home, your parents are waiting and they told me when to send you home. So-” 

Leola sighed, she knew she should go but she was terribly disappointed.  The more she thought about it, the more she realized that her bones were aching and the more she thought, the more her eyelids seemed to close.  So she didn’t object.   

“So you must go, but you should take a pie or two home to your family, so-” she looked behind her and gathered an apple and blueberry pie, “Here, now mind you be as careful as you can. And hurry home, it is getting darker every second and you don’t want to run into anyone with bad intentions,”

“What-” Leole almost cut her off, “bad what? Who would have bad-” 

“Don’t mind that,” Mrs. Kerbs said.  She laid a firm hand on her shoulder and urged her out of the tent.  

Mrs. Kerbs was right, as Leola’s little watch, hidden and unheard, ticked on, the sky darkened and she could barely see.   

She had passed Mrs. Kerbs’ house now, walked back through the garden, and looked at the rows of flowers of what she could see in the low lighting.  She always examined the rows of nicely planted plants that she helped plant each time she walked past.  

Ahead Leola saw something that she couldn’t quite make out, a couple orange bulbs of light bounced up and down and drew nearer and nearer.  Her heart beat faster, whatever this was she had never seen it before.  It turns out that it was a group, a mob you could call it, of people that healed and torches.  Some wore masks that turned them into strange creatures, and some just pulled black hoods over their heads.  

Leola's heart beat faster and faster, she didn’t know what to do, what could she do.  Soon she had to go, she was shoved off the road by unruly boys who either didn’t see her or who didn’t care.  She was shoved into a neighbor's flower bed, she dropped the pies and twisted her ankle as she fell.  She yelped in pain and fear and a boy with a pitchfork turned her direction in front of the path, the light lit up his face, his scratched rough face, she saw plainly that he had a black eye, a purplish-black bruise spread almost to his cheek.  Somehow, she couldn’t move, she couldn’t move.  The older boy put the torch in her face, she felt the flame touch her nose but it wasn’t there long enough to sting, and then he snarled, in a way that showed the hair in his nostrils, maybe that was all in her imagination though. She backed up even farther into a bed of flowers, but couldn't stand up, it felt like the boy stared at her for minutes but it was just around a couple seconds.  

They moved on and Leola watched in horror as they pushed over the low white fence into Mrs. Kerbs' garden  Some of them even ran in and uprooted flowers, and they were ruining her entire garden. She wanted to yell, wanted to run over and make them stop but she couldn’t do anything, her ankle hurt and she couldn’t even do anything.  She realized her ankle was throbbing, she tried to find the pies she dropped when she fell.  Most of the filling had fallen out but she didn’t care, she just stacked the pans and tried to stand up.  She stood on her left foot, the one that wasn’t injured, and pushed herself back over the fence.  

At least, her home was close and she found her parents sitting at the dining table discussing the events of the day. Her face was swollen and stained tears under the orange lights from their house.  The next few moments were a blur,  she could barely hear her parent's worries and questions once her head started to throb.  At some point, her parents decided to let Leola sleep was the best first step and she wouldn’t object.  So she did.  She fell asleep and slept until her father woke her up late the next day.  

Her father told her that her mother was at Mrs. Kerbs' house.  She told him that once Leola woke up they were to follow them there.  You wouldn't have to tell her twice, she was awfully eager to talk to Mrs. Kerbs about what happened the night before, who those people were and what they were going to do. 

By the time they got to her garden she found that her fence had been fixed, for the most part, and she could see Mrs. Kerbs and her mother inside, through the window.  Her mother was sitting at the round dining table sipping a cup of coffee and Mrs. Kerbs was pacing around the table.  

“Oh my goodness.”  It was Mrs. Kerbs, she hurried towards the slightly limping girl as soon as she walked through the door.  

“Are you all right? I heard what happened but how did you hurt yourself. Oh, it’s all my fault I shouldn’t have sent you home.” 

“No, I am fine, really, and it’s not your fault.”  Leola started to tell her parents and Mrs. Kerbs all that happened, how she got pushed into a neighbors bushes, the mob of people, and how she hurt her ankle.  They talked and talked and Leola explained and re-explained each thing that happened. 

They were all at a loss and had no clue what to do.  So they did the only thing Mrs. Kerbs could think of, they sat in her kitchen all day and ate pie.  They would figure something out.  

  “Leola? Is anyone home? Alice?”  Mrs. Kerbs rarely came to Loela’s home, but here she was, her voice was high and excited and she clutched her hands to her heart on a flour stained apron.  Leola was outside and didn’t hear but her mother was home and once she did come in they must have been talking for awhile.  There were cups of tea and some flour at Mrs. Kerbs' feet that had fallen from her apron.  She must have been in a hurry to leave, she didn’t even take her apron off.  

“Oh, Leola I am so glad to see you, I needed to talk to your mother. But- oh my goodness I have the most wonderful idea.” She giggles as she says it.  Leola's eyes light up, what could it be, she wonders.  “You know, what happened a couple days ago -yes of course you do-  no need to repeat it.  But do you know who those people are Leola?” 

“No,” I almost blurted out, no one had told me and it was driving me crazy.  

“Well, remember when you asked what Hallows Eve was for?” Leola nodded. “A thousand years ago people in another land believed that the curtain between the human world and the spirit world broke on Hallows Eve, so that spirits and ghosts could interact with humans.”

“Spirit world?”  Leola whispered, she had never heard that term before.  Mrs. Kerbs was about to continue but Leola said, “there’s a spirit world,” louder than the first time.  

“Well,” Mrs. Kerbs had been standing so she sat back down, “There is no way to know for sure, but some people believe there is a world where your spirit goes after you die.” 

“Is it true though?  What do you think?” Leola didn’t care what people thought, except Mrs. Kerbs. 

“I don’t know.” Leola frowned but the look in Mrs. Kerbs' eyes confirmed it, she really didn’t know what she thought.  

“Anyway, a thousand years ago on Hallows Eve people would dress up and cover their faces and light fires to confuse the ghosts.”  She shook her head and Leola knew what she thought about what these people- whoever they are- believed.  She thought it was silly.  “That's what those people are copying, they have all this odd energy and don't know what to do so they copy a tradition from a thousand years ago.” Mrs. Kerbs sighed and shook her head, she was the most amazing woman and you didn’t have to look too far to see it.  Instead of being furious at a bunch of old boys who destroyed her garden and wrecked her town, she thought for hours about why and how to solve it.  She was brilliant too and it didn’t take her long.

“So instead of giving them time, next year I will throw a party and the neighborhood children won’t have any energy left.”  She beamed and so did Leola’s mother, but Leola frowned.

“How do you know,” she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms.  Images flashed through her mind again, that mob of black-clothed people, the boy's terrible scruffy face pointed to her with the yellow light under his chin.  She shuddered at the memory.  

“I just don’t think that a party would change anything.”  Mrs. Kerbs’ smile didn’t falter in the slightest, she took a step forward and held Leola’s face in her hand.

“Darling, we have to try something.”  Mrs. Kerbs had already convinced herself it was a good idea and wouldn’t let anyone’s doubts stop her.  They had to try something after all.  

So that's exactly what they would do, they would throw a party.  

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Elizabeth Kerbs was a real person and that part of the story is true!  Don't forget that the story is not over and I will be posting the second and final part next week, hopefully.  

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