Fearless

The plush head of the horse sat cradled in the crook of her elbow.

In her free hand, a pink plastic pumpkin bucket swayed back and forth.

Her pink cowgirl boots were a size too big and the horse's dangling legs routinely got tangled up in hers.

Concentrating on keeping her balance, she carefully picked her way up the buckled concrete steps.

The lights were on in the house and we could see shelves and shelves full of books inside, but no one appeared to be home.

There were three stuffed zombies sitting on a wicker couch on the far corner of the porch where she stood.

The zombies appeared to be made from straw and pillow stuffing, like scarecrows, but they had frightening masks for heads.

The Rooster rang the doorbell and waited.

No one came.

Then, ever so slowly, one of the zombies started to move.

The Rooster had reached the porch first and stood there alone.  The Mayor and our friend's children were behind her, still on the stairs.

The zombie leaned forward towards The Rooster.

He beckoned her with a rubber clawed hand.

She took a step in his direction and he leaned forward even further.

The zombie seemed to be reaching for a huge bowl of candy at his feet.

Cautiously, The Rooster walked towards the zombie.  

When she reached the monster, she looked him right in the eyes, smiled a gigantic smile and shouted,

"TRICK OR TREAT!"

She was fearless.