Hey everybody! Look for a new story every week on Monday. Here's the first installment.Phantom Food Bear
Dear Reader,
From boyhood, Halloween has always been my favorite. Ever since I can remember, my favorite way to spend Halloween was in a strange neighborhood, typically a well-to-do strange neighborhood. We all know that bigger houses usually means bigger mother loads of candy. Also, rich people so often place a large bowl of candy on the front step with a sign reading, “Please only take one.” We all know that sign really means “please only take one . . . at a time.”
As you may already know, my research on this subject has been well documented in my international bestseller: It’s in the Bag: the Top 100 Neighborhoods to Trick or Treat in America (what the New York Times called “a SWEET tour de force—both yummy and accessible”). It’s in the Bag (now available in 36 languages) was so successful that my publishers asked me to write a follow-up (incidentally, a movie is already in production). I must admit that I was at first leery to accept this request. It wasn’t an issue of money or even doubt that I could capture lightening in a bottle a second time. I just feared that I had hit such a grand slam with the first book that a second walk around the bases would be nothing short of superfluous. You’ve likely heard the saying, “Go big or go home.” Honestly, I just didn’t know how much bigger I could go. Add to that the fact that I didn’t want my success, my golden touch if you will, to make people (other writers) feel badly. But then I heard of a little known village south of the Rainy River, north of the Rio Grande, east of the Pacific, west of the Atlantic, a land of hills and rivers, meadows and woods, called Briarwood, a place with houses as big as mountain ranges. Despite whatever noble reservations I may have had, I knew the story of Briarwood had to be told—no matter the potential cost to my reputation.
I’m sure you’ll be quite shocked to learn (as I was) that for the past thirty-odd years the people of Briarwood have not celebrated Halloween. Children did not don costumes of frivolity at the end of each fall in Briarwood. Children did not nurse hidden stashes of candy all the way to the New Year in Briarwood. In fact, the end of October was the most frightful time of the year in Briarwood. Nobody welcomed it. Can you imagine? Most stupefying of all, these people had never ever ever ever ever (not even once) had a treat. Yes, it’s true. Nevertheless, they left out mammoth stashes of candy every October 31st.
Briarwood’s people are marvelous, but in terms of mental acuity, they are tottering towers. No other explanation is needed to explain their fear of the meddling, now diabetic, monster called the Phantom Food Bear. What follows is a privileged account from one of Briarwood’s young men, August Pugh, on why Briarwood had no Halloween, but more than that, this story proves the buoyancy of the human spirit despite the floods of lunacy raining from an idiotized public. You will discover August to be a pristine simpleton with a propensity for cute (although vexing) rhymes. His is a swooning tale, published here for the first time ever, by me (two-time finalist for the National Book Award). I’m sure you’ll agree that this follow-up is more than an inexorable successor of It’s in the Bag (available from Oscar A. Webelo Publishers in hardback, paperback, or audio CD). I will now conclude my lovely little foreword with a message from the ever-expanding August Pugh himself:
Turn the page; cast spells of wonder over your brain.
Turn the page; your life will never be near the same.
Warmest regards,
Oscar A. Webelo
Friday, October 13th, 2007
Wooolff… Woooollfff…Woooollff…Woooooorrrrwwww…
I told my dad, “This year I’m going outside during the week of Halloween.”
He didn’t say a word but the face he made was the ugliest I’d ever seen.
He began to whisper
He began to chant
He began to shake
He began to rant
“You go on
You open our door
Phantom will hear!
And that will be the end of you!
See how you like it
When she chases you down the avenue
Bites you,
Chews you,
Makes a fast-food dinner out of you.”
So I prodded off to school
For the last day before Halloween Break.
To listen to the warnings
That all the imploring teachers would make
It’s the same message every year:
“Please remember to live in fear”
I long for the days when tales of treats weren’t so gory
A time in history called the Age of Sugary Glory
At the county library, clouds of thirty-year-old dust gathered on my hands
I read newspaper accounts of when Halloween was happy and tasted grand:
There were cakes and tarts and truffles divine
Caramels and cocoa and peppermint pie
Warm cider of pineapple and lime
Gummy bears as red as a fine vintage wine
Brownies and mints and crème brulee
Licorice sticks and gum and donuts glazed
Spicy crackers plastered with dips,
Cookies like saucers with chocolate chunks, not chips
Pancakes stacked as deep as you were years old
Sherbets and ice creams in colors so bold
Bananas in cream pies as big as a horse
All their oranges were chocolate of course
As great as it tasted, as good as it was
It wasn’t long, before they stopped because . . .
The Phantom Food Bear
That grizzled mound of flesh and hair
Came upon the scene to steal the cookies and cakes
She stole the candied hams and extra thick milk shakes
Yes, she has a nose for the sugary cache
And if you pause before surrendering your stash
She won’t bat an eye before biting you in half.
Or so I’ve heard . . . my entire life
At school
With smiles of joy and glee
We gathered for assemb-a-ly
We shined as bright as the lights in a planetarium
But Principal O’Doul’s presence made us a sanitarium
He sullenly said “Phantom Food Bear.”
We hung our smiles upside down,
Didn’t whisper another sound
As in years before
He showed us grisly pictures of the Phantom Food Bear
Via the light bulb in his ancient slide projector
“You must know the threat terrorizing Briarwood
So your young minds may find a way to protect her.
This week of Halloween
The night will throw darkness upon the street
The houses will sit still without a beat
Because within this
A legend phantom rules our neighborhood
Tonight, before you lock yourself into your closets
Turn off your blenders and your faucets
Turn off the television and the phone
Lock yourself in the very walls of your home
But before you do
You must make an offering to Phantom Foo
Give her chocolate balls in candy shells
Give her fruity chews with fragrant smells
Give her candy bars wrapped in foil
Write this note; offer her all your spoils:
To the hairy beast in peace:
Take a candy
Take a chew
Phantom Food Bear
Take it all with you
Just let us live another year!
You must fill your porches with treats in baskets
Or Phantom Foo will place you in her caskets.”
All of the boys sighed
All of the girls cried.
All of our fears multiplied.
We all promised to comply
I wondered why everyone was so transmogrified by Phantom Food Bear
I was tired of living in trepidation, so I raised my hand into the air.
“Yes August,” said Principal O’Doul
“Sir, have you ever even seen Phantom Foo?”
Principal O’Doul’s face burst into the color of fires
His mouth bunched into a fist and his eyes into wires
His bottom lip fell like a load of broken bricks
His hands picked at his hair like a bird at sticks
He pointed his finger; he sucked in a breath of pestilence
Then he spoke; he spoke like the roar of malevolence:
OCCASIONALLY WE SEE HER
THE VAPOR AROUND HER
HER BREATH CATAPAULTED [dog breaths]
THE TONGUE DRIPPIN’ OFF HER
DOTH HANG IN THE AIR
OH YES! MY CHILD!
I’VE SEEN PHANTOM FOOD BEAR! [dog breaths]
His words, so harsh, so terrifying
I didn’t know when I’d stop crying.
So I stopped, dropped, and rolled for home.
At my house
In preparation for the frightful night
My dad did the things he thought were right
He covered the windows and unplugged the lights
He ordered everyone: “Get out of sight!”
My mother and brothers ran to and fro
I was the only one that wouldn’t go.
I stood in the kitchen
Looking around
The thoughts in my head
The only sound:
I thought I’d turn on the vacuum
I thought I’d pour myself a drink
I thought I’d turn up the radio
Until I couldn’t even think.
But instead, I tiptoed to the porch to look at the treats
If they tasted like they smelled, they’d make wonderful eats
I picked one up and held it snug
I sniffed a whiff and with a tug
I pulled apart the wrapper
With my gaping maw opening wide
I prepared to push the treat inside
But then a sound straightened my hairs
Daddy wincing atop the basement stairs
“August, what are you doing?
If you partake, I do suspect
It will have a vampire effect
Once you eat that candy, there’ll be no more August Pugh
Once you eat that candy, you’ll be a Phantom Foo too.
Briarwood would not only be terrorized by Phantom Foo
Briarwood would also be terrorized by August Pugh!”
“Dad, have you ever even seen Phantom Food Bear?”
Daddy’s face drained to the color of a ghost
His mouth crumpled, a dried out piece of toast
His eyes rocked and swayed from the force of an ocean
His hands disappeared in search of magic potion
He pointed his finger; he sucked in a breath of severance
But when he spoke; he spoke with love and reverence:
OCCASIONALLY WE SEE HER
THE VAPOR AROUND HER
HER BREATH CATAPAULTED [dog breaths]
THE TONGUE DRIPPIN’ OFF HER
DOTH HANG IN THE AIR
OH YES! MY CHILD!
I’VE SEEN PHANTOM FOOD BEAR! [dog breaths]
Son, I’d like you to go outside and play
I figure normal kids behave that way
As I watch you go on and pace the floor
I know you figure life should offer something more
Son, I know she could eat us
I know we could die
But if you want to face her
Let’s give it a try.”
So seeing that my dad
Had renewed his confidence
We walked side by side
To claim Phantom recompense
We arrived at the door
And Dad undid the bolt
The weather-swollen door stuck
Stubborn as a shoeless colt
We pushed; we pulled
We yanked; we dueled
The door suddenly popped free
Cold air raced all over him and me
Over our domestic flesh
We slid some coats and threads
When we realized our body’s cold
Was much warmer than our heads
In a frenzy
We searched for an item
To warm the chill upon our skulls
Suddenly, my dad
Shouted from the diaper pail
That he’d found some warming shawls
Those diapers
They was plastic
They was thick
We tied ‘em around our heads lickety-split
We left the door
And walked down the stair
We each had a shotgun
Held up in the air
We walked and we talked.
Foo Bear
Come here!
Foo Bear
Come here!
FOO BEAR
COME HERE!
Suddenly she frightened us from behind a tree [DOG BREATHS]
Those diapers were helpful to my dad and me
We ran
We done take our feet to the road
My friend
Until we had found
A tree in the ground
And we climbed my friend!
We climbed my friend we climbed!
And perched in that tree
We did sit
Dad and me
Contemplating invisibility
We uttered not a single word that night
As Phantom Foo quenched her appetite.
She tumbled and nuzzled our sugary lair
Sashes of bubble gum hung from her hair
Clusters of wrappers polluted the air
Why had we confronted the Phantom Food Bear?
Fuddled with the contentment of her jovial feast
We were consumed by rheumy eyes of the beast
Phantom Foo stammered to the base of our tree
Slowly, she looked up at Dad and me
She stifled our souls with her milk white fangs;
Dad gave my shirt a smoldering tug;
She rattled our heads with her haggard claws;
Dad and I shrank into a blabbering hug.
“What does she want?” I cried.
Phantom Foo pointed her paws at a rust orange car in the street
Afraid for our lives we slid down the tree and up her back seat.
Phantom Foo got in the front and began to drive
I turned to Dad, “We won’t leave this car alive.”
We drove for a few miles at a high velocity
And stopped at a neighborhood full of frivolity
Convicts wearing black and white stripes
Tin Men walking with Frankenstein types
Grown men wearing Hawaiian shirts
Holding little girls in hula skirts
A Sherlock Holmes holding hands
With the Statue of
A gorilla and chamber maid
Laughing with a dragon lady
Zombie prom queens skipping their feet
Army brats unwrapping some treats
A cowgirl and butterfly knocking on a door
A vampire and magician scaring them poor.
The Grim Reaper and an eye-patched swashbuckler
A snake charmer and a gun-toting mobster
Marines and samurais and rock and roll stars
Rabbis and lady bugs and fortune tellers
Macho biker men and mad scientists
Spartans wielding aluminum foil swords
Tarzan and Jane and Devils with horns
At our car they stopped and stared
I knew they’d soon be scared
Once they saw the frothing Food Bear
They’d cringe and lurch and scramble and jumble
They’d blaze and spill and holler and shuffle
In the rearview mirror, Phantom Foo looked us in the eye
With a sinister look saying, “It’s time to die.”
I tried the door
But it was locked
I tried to scream
But I was stopped
Phantom Foo
Put her paws on her ears
She wiggle-wiggled
And a new head appeared
A man with glasses
And a thick mustache
Held out his hand,
“Hi, I’m Rick Gus Lash.
Rick patted our shoulders, “I think it’s safe to assume
Everyone is going to love your baby costumes.”
He opened our door and welcomed us to his neighborhood
Dad and I rustled and quivered and did what we could
But we couldn’t believe it.
We had only one question to ask:
“Phantom Food Bear
Is nothing more than a mask?”
“No,” Phantom roared,
I’m a candy eating disaster
I will eat candy forever, and forever after.”
Tottering, we left the car and fetched the street
Phantom Foo’s circling friends said, “Trick or Treat.”
I looked to Dad
And Dad looked to me
“I don’t know any tricks
And I’ve never had a treat.”
The neighborhood of people
They all passed out
When they regained consciousness
They began to shout:
You must have a thing that will not only fill your stomach, but your imagination.
You got to have a taste, babies!
You got to have a taste
A taste to excite you
Delight you
And reunite you
With a smile on your face
Try this candy bar
Or this chocolate covered caramel
Try this peppermint gum
Don’t you just love that smell?
Try these tootsie-covered suckers
Or these rainbow-colored Dots
Try a handful of candy corn
Or a mouthful of Red Hots
Take a chew of these gummy brains
Keep a straight face after this lemon head
Swallow some black licorice jelly beans
If you don’t like the black, then try the red
OH!
It all tasted like
Nothing I’d had before
After one taste
I wanted 25 more.
All night long we did eat and eat
Whenever we wanted some more
We smiled and said “Trick or Treat.”
So now that you’ve read this book . . .
PLEASE
Don’t tell Briarwood the truth about the mask
Just say Phantom Foo now has a brother if they ask.
Tell them to double the treats in the baskets,
So we won’t double the need for the caskets.
Yes. Briarwood should no longer only leave treats for Phantom Foo
There’s a new beast with a hunger and my name is August Pugh.
