Jeremy Hardwick looked forward to Halloween more than any other day of the year. It was a time of absolute magic. At least, it used to be.
He was only 6 years old when the pandemic hit, and he had two Halloweens taken from him. Another Halloween was spent waiting for his father to come home. That was when his mother was dying. A neighbor had volunteered to take him trick or treating but he could only take Jeremy for an hour. Only one hour for his favorite night of the year. Mr. Cohn wouldn't even let him watch scary movies on TV! He tried arguing that he was ready for scary movies at the age of 8 but Mr. Cohn put his foot down and put on some little kids shows for him to watch, as if he was a baby! When he was 9, his mother was already long gone. His father forced him to go to some stupid work party at a house where there were only two other kids and there was nothing for any of them to do but watch the adults get drunk. The party was full of well to do clients and Jeremy had to be on his best behavior. He wound up watching stupid reality TV shows with some bimbo trophy wife with a set of new boobs that for some reason made him blush. She was dressed in some skimpy outfit like many of the women at the party. It had made him feel strange that his father even brought him along and he didn't say anything afterwards. His father was always stressing how important it was that he behave at all times because the slightest misstep could cost him his job or potential clients and he had a lot of money riding on his job.
His father worked as a very important businessman even though the Midwestern town they lived in didn't have a lot of rich people. He knew that his father, Ramsey, was very respected and he knew better than to contradict his father. Ramsey didn't have a woman's touch in the house and he had very little patience. Jeremy had acted up a few times after his mother died and Ramsey didn't hesitate to bring his foot way down on Jeremy's little kiester. He spanked Jeremy for talking back and now at the age of 10 years old, Jeremy never disobeyed his father. He was very careful to be obedient and well behaved to the point where people told his father in public what a mature little boy he'd raised. It was expected of him, he was told, because they came from wealth. They had to set an example. Too many rich people had brats who were coddled and wound up in trouble with the police. But this was a very Christian moral community and Ramsey knew that he had to keep up appearances.
Unfortunately, it made Jeremy very unpopular at school. Other kids knew who his father was and shunned him as a result. Thankfully, many of their parents had warned them not to bully that poor Hardwick kid. They knew his father was lawyered up and could make their lives a living hell. The Hardwick family combined owned half the town, and Ramsey himself was the district supervisor of four different factories, all of which made different components for various items including work clothing for construction crews. He was at heart a working man and his father had forced him to work construction at an early age. He was preparing to do the same with Jeremy. Like his father, the plan was to introduce Jeremy into the workplace shortly as soon as he finished grade 6. Upon entering junior high, he would spent weekends, holidays and summer vacations observing and doing apprenticeship work with his father's associates. Ramsey knew he hadn't had much of a childhood but he was proud of what he'd accomplished in his life. He was repulsed by how soft today's kids were and he would not allow his son to go down a path where he would wind up some simpering little freak unable to take care of himself.
Ramsey Hardwick looked as hard as his name would suggest. He was rugged looking, 40something, had light brown hair the color of damp sand turning slowly gray. He had the look of a wolf about him. Glinting eyes and a fierce scowl. His hair, when grown out, was rough and ragged, and added to the look of intimidation that came whenever he entered a room. The lines of his face were deeply etched. Once, he had been more boisterous and went out drinking with his friends, but it had been several years. Jeremy had been in kindergarten the last time he had a boys night out on the town with his old buds.
Jeremy looked a lot like his father had at that age. Medium length light brown hair that grew like the swirl of a hay bale over the head which held his beautiful face. Slightly largish ears, a small chin, and a curiously serious expression whose observant face was mature far beyond his years. He had steel blue-gray eyes and soft, perfect skin. He had the look of a princeling. Something straight out of a fairy tale.
His father had promised to take him trick-or-treating. It had been his only request. Birthdays and Christmases were family affairs and he gratefully accepted sweaters or gift certificates he wasn't allowed to use on his own. Video games were forbidden. He had a rich library and he was allowed to exercise on his bicycle. His father had allowed Jeremy the freedom to roam around unsupervised as long as he carried a trackable phone with him at all times. He got plenty of exercises and he knew every little nook and cranny of his town better than most little boys his age. Hardwick men were supposed to have some amount of independence so long as it benefitted their upbringing.
At home, his father often talked to him about work and most of it glossed over his head unless Ramsey nudged him and told him to repeat what he was telling his son. He was gentle but talked to his son as if he was an employee already half the time.
But now it was Halloween. A day where he could be something else. He had begged his father to get him a costume. He wanted to go as a werewolf or a monster. He just wanted a day of fun. Ramsey tried talking him into something manlier like a cowboy or a Roman gladiator but his son begged him for something traditional.
"I never ask you for anything but all I want is a normal Halloween this year. Please, Dad. Please." He had begged his father so earnestly that Ramsey relented.
"Alright, alright. I suppose being a werewolf for a night wouldn't hurt anyone. Scratch that. No, don't scratch anything. It would be expensive to remove werewolf marks from the furniture," Ramsey joked, his deep voice booming in the large wooden hallway of their mansion, built over a hundred years prior.
The clock was ticking. Ramsey had told his son he would swing by the Halloween store on his lunch break, but he didn't have time. He had investors calling. Numbers were everything. Time was always money. Emergencies were always flaring up. Machines stopped working. Workers had illnesses. Payroll had to be kept in the loop. Investors called to talk to him about quarterly earnings. Suppliers called to talk about shipping delays. And before he knew it, it was 6 o'clock and it was time to go home to his 10 year old son, eagerly waiting for his father to take him trick or treating for the first time in five years.
Childhood was a fleeing thing and Ramsey felt a dread go through him. A pang of guilt. "Fuck," he said to no one in particular as he started his truck up in the parking lot. "Fuck," he said to himself as the saw the Halloween store was closed. Why the fuck were they closed on Halloween? Wasn't this their big night?? A sign explained there was a burst pipe that needed fixing. "Fuck, fuck fuck fuck FUCK!" he screamed out to another empty parking lot. The sun was going down. He was exhausted. He thought of going to Target but at that moment, he wanted to just drop down on his bed and sleep as soon as possible.
Ramsey arrived home and promptly went into the kitchen where his son and Mr. Cohn were carving a jack-o-lantern. He would have asked his cousin Lorraine to take Jeremy with her son Jimmy, but she and her family were out of town this week.
"Hey, sport." He put a friendly hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a firm rub.
"Dad! Did you get it? Did they have any werewolf costumes left?"
Guilt coursed through his father's body.
"No," he said, clamping a hand over his jaw and rubbing it. He had a big firm jaw, unlike his son's delicate little nub of a jaw. "They were closed. Burst pipe." Jeremy's face fell. "Hey, Rob, do you have any Halloween stuff left over?" He asked Mr. Cohn. Rob Cohn had once had kids, but his wife had taken them and left when Jeremy was very little.
"No, the missus took all that stuff with her and what was left behind I gave to Goodwill. I don't really do Halloween much these days."
Jeremy tried to hide his disappointment and shock. To a little boy, Halloween was everything. It was a day where he could pretend to be something other than a sad, lonely little rich boy trying to constantly please his father. The waterworks were welling up so he walked slowly to his room and shut the door.
His father knocked on the door gently. The door creaked open.
"Go away," his son's muffled voice said, burying his face in his pillow. Ramsey came in and sat down on the opposite side of the bed. He reeked of cigarette smoke. He was wearing a jumpsuit and rigger boots. He often wore what the men wore because it commanded their respect. He only wore a construction helmet when doing inspections.
"I know you're angry and you have every right to be. I fucked up. I'm trying to put a roof over our head and a roof over other people's heads. I let time slip away. Seems like I've done that a lot," Ramsey cleared his throat, trying to find words. "Look, we can find something for you to wear. I have some old clothes. My old football jersey and varsity jacket. You want to wear those?"
His son sniffed. "I just really wanted to be something scary."
"Football is scary. You ever been tackled?" his father joked. Jeremy gave a slight smile and he wiped his tears, sat up on the bed.
"You're not angry with me for crying?"
"No. I remember what Halloween was like. I got to dress up and go trick-or-treating. Mom took me. My dad was always too busy, and I followed in his footsteps like I was supposed to. For the family. But I remember how...it felt to be a little boy on Halloween. It was magical. I got to be the Terminator one Halloween. Loved that costume. Mom did my makeup so I looked just like a cyborg. One year I went with my friend Kenny. He was Bigfoot and I was a fur trapper that had all my guts hanging out, like this," he motioned. Jeremy laughed.
"Ewwwww! That's so gross," he laughed.
"Yeah, we were pretty gross kids. So...you still want to go trick-or treating?"
"Yeah, but I need something to wear."
"I just had an inspiration," Mr. Cohn said, popping his head in. "I just remembered this really cool Halloween costume i saw online one year where a father and son dressed up as each other. They were about the same height but the kid was maybe in high school and dyed his hair gray and he wore his dad's glasses. They wore each other's clothes. Maybe you two can do something like that."
"That would be awesome!" Jeremy's reaction was immediate. "Let's do that! Can we do that??"
"Sure. I can get my varsity jacket."
"No, Dad. Not the high school you. I can wear your work clothes!"
"They wouldn't really fit you..."
"We could make that work, I bet," Rob chimed in. We could dress you up in his clothes and the two of you could go door to door together. People would really get a kick out of that! I mean, seriously, you could show people in the town you have a sense of humor."
"Dad, this sounds really cool. I wanna do it!"
"Well...I think I have an old jumpsuit I don't wear anymore because it had too many grease stains on it."
"Perfect! We'll just cinch the waist with a belt and...we could put electrical tape around the elbows so the sleeves fit, tuck the pants into a pair of boots. Does he have any boots?"
"He sure as hell does!" Ramsey returned. "I got you that pair for camping!"
"We never went camping."
"Yeah, I know. I wanted to, though. But they still fit you! I made sure to get a pair that was slightly big for you so they would fit you by the tie we did go camping!"
They rushed to dress Jeremy up as a miniature version of his father, complete with hard hat. The hard hat was the only thing that really stood out as too ridiculously big for him but he didn't care. He felt like he wasn't himself anymore! He felt like he really was a grown up factory worker!
"Gloves! Do you have gloves?" Rob asked. Dad went and snatched some from the basement. "The gardener used to wear this pair and he left em behind. That tiny little Mexican guy. Only five feet tall. Try em on, son!" They were a good fit. Jeremy smiled. He looked in the mirror. He had never been dressed as a laborer before and he felt like he was almost another person.
"What will Dad wear?"
"Let's go through your closet and see," Mr. Cohn told him. He rummaged through Jeremy's clothes quickly and found a bright blue dinosaur hoodie. "Ah! Perfect!" He also found some ridiculously little kid shorts with Spongebob characters on them. And an X-Men T-shirt with Wolverine on it. But the piece-de-resistance was a beanie with a little spinning propellor that one of the cousins had given Jeremy, which he'd never worn.
His father shucked off his clothing and put on an X-Men T-shirt from his son's dresser that barely fit him. It stretched over his incredibly taut frame. He managed to find time to work out at the factory. There was a gym there built for all the employees, including himself. He put on the dinosaur hoodie with exaggerated dignity, fluffing up the hoodie and topping it with the beanie propellor cap. He put on the Spongebob shorts and came out of his son's bedroom to cheers and applause from Mr, Cohn and Jeremy.
"You two look perfect. Let me just get a few shots for Facebook. This is gonna be great." Father and son smiled as son and father.
"Can you act like your father? Do an impression of him?"
Jeremy thought about it for a bit. He scratched his chin. "This year, those boot lace people really tried to short change us!" he said, making his voice sound as gruff as he could. "Stocks and dividends! The Orioles are gonna go all the way this year!"
Ramsey belted out a loud, throaty laugh.
"So which one of you is gonna ask for candy?"
"I am, I guess. It would be weird if Dad did it," Jeremy said.
"But isn't he the son tonight? He should collect the candy and you should show him off as your little boy!" Mr Cohn said, helpfully, really enjoying the gag.
"I think that's going a little bit too far, Rob," Ramsey told him. "Alright, sport. Let's get going. There's only so much Halloween left!"
"Yayyyy, Halloween!"
Of course, this is where I come in. Buster Trader. Maybe you've heard of me. I have a bit of a reputation in male transformation circles. I have a penchant for fathers and sons and all sorts of different...frivolities, if you like. And I do like that term. Frivolities. Has a nice ring to it, you know? Ah, Ramsey and Jeremy. You have drawn me to you this Halloween. I get drawn to these sorts of situations. It's really just the icing on the Hostess cake that is my Halloween fun. So stay tuned, dear viewer!
Their night of fun is just beginning...