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time they had gotten Elizabeth’s pony-tail tucked inside her Nefertiti headdress it was almost 7:00. They started to rush out, but in the hallway they noticed that Marshall wasn’t with them. They dashed back and found him in the closet with April’s pin-box. He was calm as they grabbed him out of the closet, snatched away the pin-box and scolded him across the living room to the hall door. “I was just smelling the mystery, like April said,” he was explaining patiently, when suddenly he grabbed hold of the door frame and howled, “STOP!” The result was a four-way collision of Egyptians in the doorway. Marshall kept on yelling, “Stop!” and Elizabeth yelled “Ouch!” because somebody stepped on her, and April yelled, “What the —!”
But Melanie knew right away what the matter was. She ran back into the bedroom and got Security from where he’d been left on April’s bed, and at last the Egyptians were on their way.
The Return to Egypt
THE TRICK-OR-TREAT GROUP WAS A MILLING MOB of devils, witches, tramps and monsters. Mr. Barkley, who always acted as if being the father of six-year-old twin boys was almost more than he could stand, looked positively exhausted; and even Mr. Kamata’s sturdy real-estate-salesman’s smile was beginning to wilt. Outside the Casa Rosada a black cat, a mechanical man, a little red-riding-hood, two tramps and four ancient Egyptians joined the already unwieldy group. They had started off up Orchard Avenue in a sprawly column when Marshall suddenly stopped and tugged at Melanie’s arm. “I want a sign,” he said loudly. Several of the surrounding Trick-or-Treaters turned to look at him, and the other three Egyptians stared in astonishment. Marshall had never blabbed about secrets before.
“Shhh!” April hissed. “Not yet! I’ll tell you when.” “Shhh, Marshall. It’s a secret,” Elizabeth whispered covering his mouth with her hand.
“What’s the matter with you?” Melanie asked in astonishment.
Marshall pushed Elizabeth’s hand away. “Not a secret sign,” he said. “A sign to carry.”
All of a sudden Melanie laughed. “Oh,” she said, “I guess he thinks we’re a demonstration-like at the university. He’s never been Trick-or-Treating because he was too young last year. But he knows about demonstrations.”
The Return to Egypt
Everybody laughed, except Marshall. “We’re not a demonstration, Marshall,” Melanie explained, tugging at him to get him moving again. “We’re Trick-or-Treating. Trick-or-Treating is for candy and demonstrations are for things like Peace and Freedom. It’s different.”
Marshall relaxed and allowed himself to be pulled down the street, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m a demonstration,” he said firmly.
When the crowd turned up Elm Street where there were more good houses to visit, the Egyptians began to drop to the rear of the group where it would
miii.-“-*–—”- –-
be easier to get away. That meant they were the last ones up to each home, and sometimes most of the good stuff was already taken; but they hardly noticed. They were too busy looking for an omen.
At the last house before they turned off Elm Street, the Egypt gang started up the front walk and collided with two other Trick-or-Treaters who also seemed to be hanging behind the main group-a monster and a walking pile of boxes. “Hey,” the monster said, “it’s Ross and February. What are you supposed to be?”
The rubber monster mask completely covered the speaker’s head, but the voice was familiar; and besides, the sixth grade boys were the only ones who called April, February. Then the walking boxes said, “Hey man! It’s a whole herd of Egyptians.” He poked Marshall in the stomach and said, “Hi there, King Tut.”
“Okay, Mr. Wise-Guy Alvillar,” Melanie said. “I know who you are.” She turned to April with an exasperated shrug. “It’s Kamata and Alvillar.”
Ken Kamata and Toby Alvillar were just about the
But Melanie knew right away what the matter was. She ran back into the bedroom and got Security from where he’d been left on April’s bed, and at last the Egyptians were on their way.
The Return to Egypt
THE TRICK-OR-TREAT GROUP WAS A MILLING MOB of devils, witches, tramps and monsters. Mr. Barkley, who always acted as if being the father of six-year-old twin boys was almost more than he could stand, looked positively exhausted; and even Mr. Kamata’s sturdy real-estate-salesman’s smile was beginning to wilt. Outside the Casa Rosada a black cat, a mechanical man, a little red-riding-hood, two tramps and four ancient Egyptians joined the already unwieldy group. They had started off up Orchard Avenue in a sprawly column when Marshall suddenly stopped and tugged at Melanie’s arm. “I want a sign,” he said loudly. Several of the surrounding Trick-or-Treaters turned to look at him, and the other three Egyptians stared in astonishment. Marshall had never blabbed about secrets before.
“Shhh!” April hissed. “Not yet! I’ll tell you when.” “Shhh, Marshall. It’s a secret,” Elizabeth whispered covering his mouth with her hand.
“What’s the matter with you?” Melanie asked in astonishment.
Marshall pushed Elizabeth’s hand away. “Not a secret sign,” he said. “A sign to carry.”
All of a sudden Melanie laughed. “Oh,” she said, “I guess he thinks we’re a demonstration-like at the university. He’s never been Trick-or-Treating because he was too young last year. But he knows about demonstrations.”
The Return to Egypt
Everybody laughed, except Marshall. “We’re not a demonstration, Marshall,” Melanie explained, tugging at him to get him moving again. “We’re Trick-or-Treating. Trick-or-Treating is for candy and demonstrations are for things like Peace and Freedom. It’s different.”
Marshall relaxed and allowed himself to be pulled down the street, but he didn’t look convinced. “I’m a demonstration,” he said firmly.
When the crowd turned up Elm Street where there were more good houses to visit, the Egyptians began to drop to the rear of the group where it would
miii.-“-*–—”- –-
be easier to get away. That meant they were the last ones up to each home, and sometimes most of the good stuff was already taken; but they hardly noticed. They were too busy looking for an omen.
At the last house before they turned off Elm Street, the Egypt gang started up the front walk and collided with two other Trick-or-Treaters who also seemed to be hanging behind the main group-a monster and a walking pile of boxes. “Hey,” the monster said, “it’s Ross and February. What are you supposed to be?”
The rubber monster mask completely covered the speaker’s head, but the voice was familiar; and besides, the sixth grade boys were the only ones who called April, February. Then the walking boxes said, “Hey man! It’s a whole herd of Egyptians.” He poked Marshall in the stomach and said, “Hi there, King Tut.”
“Okay, Mr. Wise-Guy Alvillar,” Melanie said. “I know who you are.” She turned to April with an exasperated shrug. “It’s Kamata and Alvillar.”
Ken Kamata and Toby Alvillar were just about the
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