One Night
One Night
By JessicaRae
“Halloween is a day in which some people choose to wear a mask…
... while others finally feel safe to take theirs off.” Steve Maraboli
***
He watched the children running through the streets, their faces covered in their mask of
choice, a reflection of their childhood dreams and wishes. There were capes and dresses and
feathers and masks of all colors and characters. Their laughter was contagious as they ran from
house to house swinging their arms windmill fashion in excitement, and promptly bartering
candy with each other after each visit to the city porches.
“I am glad you came Above with me tonight,” Catherine said, one hand gracefully holding her
long pink dress up with one hand, the other on Vincent’s elbow as they made their way
through Central Park. “I hope I didn’t hurt you by coming as the Fairy Godmother from the
Wizard of Oz. People will think you are the Cowardly Lion.”
“You look lovely, and I do not mind their assumptions. It creates less questions,” Vincent
observed quietly, as he walked along the sidewalk, instinctively staying close to the shadows.
“Listen.” They paused for a moment, hearing the shouts and cheers from the children already
swarming through the area. “The laughter of the children is music to hear. They seem so
innocent and happy.”
“It’s the gift of imagination. Vincent. Tonight, they get a chance to dream and be whatever
their heart desires, if just for a few hours, with no judgement.” Catherine replied just as
quietly, glancing up at the man beside her. “You know what a gift that truly is.”
“I do, certainly,” Vincent replied, his voice slightly wistful. “This Halloween night gives me the
opportunity to come Above and face the world, if only under the mask of untruth. But I never
had the chance to be anything other than myself. Yet, others do not perceive that this is my
true appearance, and strangely, it bothers them little tonight.”
Catherine leaned closer toward him comfortingly and sighed. “That had to be very difficult for
you as a child, and even now. All the other children could change who they were just for a
night, but you would have had to always be the same thing every time.”
“You have to admit,” Vincent laughed shortly. “Long nails and sharp teeth are hard to hide, and
a lion is the only creature they easily resemble.”
“Do you truly regret what you look like, then?” Catherine asked gently, wrapping her hands
around his broad arm and dropping the hem of her skirt now that they had reached the stable
surface of the sidewalk. “Would you wish to look different, if you could?”
How he wished he could tell her otherwise, but as he looked down into the honest eyes that
smiled up at him, he knew the truth was not hidden from her.
“Sometimes it is my greatest desire and my greatest pain.”
“I know, Vincent.” Her voice was comforting, and accepting, but it didn’t take away the tiny
ache in his heart. “I can feel it in you. I wish there was something I could do to make it better.”
“You have,” he replied sincerely. “You accept me for who I am.”
“Excuse me?” A tiny voice interrupted their moment, and immediately Vincent stepped
backward, lowering his head to the shadows of his cloak.
A tiny girl appeared on the sidewalk before them, miniature braids sticking out sideways, and a
blue gingham dress peeking out from under her pink puffed coat.
“Can you - help me?”
“Sure,” Catherine spoke softly, crouching down in front of the small person and smiled. “What
seems to be the matter?”
“I got lost,” the child pouted, sticking out her lower lip effectively portraying her dismay. “The
mean man at the corner shouted at us to get off his – “she paused, her eyes growing wide. “I
can’t say what he said - but he wanted us to get off his – porch.”
Catherine gave the disgruntled child an understanding glance and held out her hand. “And I
assume that all the other brave ones ran away and left you here alone?”
The child nodded, her face growing concerned then worried. “And I don’t know how to get
home!”
Catherine took the child’s hand and shook her head. “Now, no worries. Your fairy godmother is
here, and we will make sure you get home. Dorothy can always depend on her fairy
godmother, right?”
The child’s eyes lit up and she threw her arms around Catherine’s neck. “Glinda! Please, please,
pleeeease take me home?”
Catherine glanced up at Vincent, still standing close by, but in the shadows. “Absolutely,
Dorothy, I will take you home.”
“Can the lion come too?” The small child reached a hand in the direction Vincent stood,
seemingly unbothered by his lionlike appearance. “You will need to help him find courage after
you take me home. That’s all he ever wanted anyway.”
Vincent stepped forward, kneeling, and laying a hand on Catherine’s shoulder. “Dorothy, you
are brave to allow me to come along with you on your journey home. Your bravery gives me all
the courage that I need to join you.”
A bright smile crossed the miniature Dorothy’s face, and she released her hold on Catherine’s
neck, this time moving to Vincent and vaulting herself into his lap. He nearly fell backward at
the sudden movement, trying to catch the small creature so she didn’t fall onto the concrete,
while not hurting her with his long nails, and at the same time trying to squash the immediate
onslaught of warning bells going off in his head. Those bells had gone off so many times, that
they sent adrenaline surging through his veins and he wanted to toss the child Catherine’s
direction and run, retreating to the darkest tunnel that existed in their world to calm his
sudden rapid breathing.
“Aw, don’t be afraid, lion,” the little Dorothy was saying as he slowly returned his thoughts to
the present situation. “Dorothy and Glinda will take care of you. We have a Toto too, but
mommy wouldn’t let me bring him trick’r’treatin’ with us. Well, he isn’t really Toto, he’s a chichihu- something and his name is Tony, but we call him Toto and my brother was the Tin Man.
He’s probably home by now, eating his candy already, and we always trade first because I hate
smarties, and he loves them, but he hates KitKats and I love those and I always get more m and
m’s than him, but I give them to him because he gives me his popcorn balls, because I like
those better, and my mom says that makes me a weird kid. Do you think that makes me a
weird kid?”
“Of course not,” Vincent said convincingly, but the pathetically helpless glance he cast in
Catherine’s direction made her want to laugh. As the child continued babbling about the paint
her brother had used for his tinman face, Vincent mouthed to Catherine, “What is a popcorn
ball?”
“It’s a ball that rich people go to and wear only popcorn,” she mouthed back to him,
mischievously. The expression on his face was priceless, and he couldn’t react very well with a
wobbly toddler balanced on his strong arms. But the look he gave her sent delightful chills
down her spine. He was embarrassed, but there was something else there that wasn’t
embarrassment at all…
The child’s fist was balled into his cloak, and the other hand was gently stroking his long, tawny
hair as if it were that of a cat. “No, it’s not,” the little Dorothy exclaimed dramatically, “it has
nothing to do with clothes. It’s eatable. It starts with the popcorn, see, mommy makes it in the
miro-micro – something and she puts syrup and cinna- cinnaman in hers and you squash it all
together like this!” She twisted up the corner of Vincent’s hood into a ball, unintentionally
gathering locks of hair and his shirt into it, squashing it all into a ball. “Then you roll it all up
and give it to people!”
Vincent nodded wisely, as if he understood everything she had said, his head leaning at an
awkward angle to keep her from completely pulling his hair out. “That is - very clever,” he
agreed, smirking at Catherine, whose face had turned a becoming shade of red. “More clever
than Glinda’s version.”
Dorothy giggled, releasing her handmade popcorn ball to Vincent’s relief, and threw her arms
around him, her head nestled under his chin. “I’m cleverer than Glinda?”
“Yes,” Vincent replied, smiling deviously at Catherine, who’s eyes widened in surprise and
pretend offense. He was flirting and she knew it.
“Lion,” she scolded playfully. “Behave yourself or I shall turn you into a popcorn ball. Dorothy,
don’t forget, it’s the unclever godmother that has to get you home in one piece.”
“Oh yes,” Dorothy laughed. “I forgot about home. I live by the big hospital in the house on the
corner with the blue fence.”
“By St. Vincent’s?” Catherine asked to confirm, sharing an undiscernible glance with Vincent.
“Yes!” the child exclaimed, and they headed that direction, the only sound the endless chatter
of tin men, and lions, and witches.
“Here we are,” Catherine spoke eventually, as they stood on the sidewalk outside of a cozy
little house. “Time to say goodbye and go get those popcorn balls.”
The little girl hugged Vincent tightly. “I think I would rather stay with the lion.”
Vincent smiled kindly at the tiny face on the edge of tears. “Dorothy, you have completed your
journey and found your way home. The lion still must find his courage. Next year, I will meet
you here on this night, and tell you if I have found it.”
This promise of meeting again seemed to cheer up the child, and she happily ran toward her
house, where a warmly lit house awaited her.
As they left the child’s home, the sound of relieved greetings and dog barking fading behind
them, Vincent seemed to be far away. Catherine slipped a hand around his arm again, looking
up into the shadowed hood of his cloak.
“What are you thinking, Vincent?”
“I was found at this hospital,” he spoke softly, as they turned away to return to Central Park.
“My story began here, so long ago. So much has changed, so much has been lost, and gained.
Life – life seems to be a mystery that never quite gets all the answers.”
“Perhaps,” she replied. “But maybe only the truly important questions get answers.”
“Perhaps,” he echoed her thoughts. “It was strange to be accepted for myself, through the
innocent eyes of a child. They don’t have expectations, or requirements, before they share
their love. They just do.”
“The world would be a better place if we loved like they did,” Catherine nodded in agreement.
“They don’t see people for what they could or might be, but simply for who they are. Their
innocence is beautiful, but in the real world, dangerous.”
“You took that risk.” He spoke abruptly, gruffly, and she knew he was feeling unworthy again of
the love that not only the child had shown, but of her love as well.
“Vincent, stop,” she spoke softly, tugging on his arm. He did as she asked, his head bent, and
turned away from her. “I didn’t love you for your face. I loved you for your heart. You may look
like the cowardly lion on the outside, but inside you is a beautiful knight in shining silver armor
that would defend anyone who needed it. That is the Vincent I fell in love with. And besides,
the face of the lion is regal and brave, and to me it’s the most beautiful face in the world.”
Silently, he slipped his arms around her, and she rested her head on his broad chest just like
the little Dorothy had done. Their journey was a hard one, full of lessons and experiences and
joy and pain. But there was no one she would rather make that journey with.
“Some people choose to wear masks and disguises,” he spoke barely above a whisper. Slowly,
he withdrew the hood from his face, the amber streetlight falling across his sharp features.
“Tonight, I remove mine. The lion walks in courage tonight.”
She smiled up at him, his whole world, his dream come true. He would be a man most
miserable without the glimmer of hope and love that she had brought to his world.
“Now,” he spoke, a bit more cheerfully, “It’s a long walk back to Central Park. Suppose you tell
me more about these popcorn balls…..”