Sammy Grant
"Mom!" Sammy's little sister, Jessica, whined.
"Shhhh!" Sammy jumped to his feet and hastened to quiet that wailing 7 year old. She may only be seven, Sammy thought, as he turned over the remote control to her. But she knows how to get what she wants.
"Thank you Sammy." She smiled happily and batted her eyes innocently, like any other seven year old child would, but Sammy knew that Jessica was pure evil.
"Sam!" His mother called from the kitchen. "I thought I asked you to clean up in here after school." Mrs. Grant was not amused.
"I did." Sammy pleaded. "I don't know what could have happened. It was spotless! Honest!"
"You made me that after-school snack, remember Sammy?" The devil herself smiled again.
Sammy grit his teeth. "I did?" Jessica nodded, flicking happily through the stations. Sammy sighed. "I'll get it mom."
His mother smiled, not as ignorant to the situation as it was widely believed. As Sammy passed her in the door she stopped him and kissed his forehead. "I know she drives you crazy sometimes, but she is only seven."
Sammy smiled. "Seven is pretty young considering she's going to live forever as Lord of the Underworld."
Mrs. Grant suppressed a smile as she swatted her only son. "Get started on the dishes, I'll make Her Highness give you a hand."
"No thanks." Sammy began to fill the sink with water. "She only breaks things."
"I know." Mrs. Grant smiled. "She does it on purpose. She figures it'll get me to stop asking her to help."
"And when will that war end?"
"Either when she stops breaking them or I run out of dishes." Sammy laughed as his mother went down to the freezer to grab something for dinner. Sammy had inherited his mother's sense of humour, and the two got along well. Unfortunately, Sammy's one and only sister and his father didn't have such wonderful senses of humour�so the two jokers could only poke fun at them when they weren't around.
"So what are you doing for Halloween this year?" Mrs. Grant reappeared carrying a package of frozen meatballs. Looked like spaghetti for dinner.
"I was planning on dragging my friends down to the river for the big bash there." Sammy knew, that of all his friends, he'd have the easiest time convincing his parents to let him go. Mr. Grant was a computer kind of guy who followed Mrs. Grant's lead. Mrs. Grant was one of the few parents who remembered what it was like to be a teenager. When Sammy brought home a failed test, his mother complained about the teacher asking trick questions. When Sammy talked about going out with his friends, his mother trusted him to never do anything she wouldn't. If Sammy wanted to go to a party, his mother asked him when he would be back. She was the kind of mother every kid dreamed of. Aside from one small thing�Sammy smiled even as he watched his mother turn on her portable cd player and begin to dance around as she waited for the pot to boil. His mother seemed to think she was still a teenager.
In all honesty, she was better than most moms and she was a student. His mother decided, after 12 years of being a simple housewife, she wanted to get back into the world. She enrolled at a nearby college and was taking a program in business technology and computer science. She was planning on starting her own store. Sammy knew that it was probably one of her silly little hobbies that she would pick up and drop just as quickly, but he was proud to see his mother take some initiative instead of sitting around the house and listening to his dad.
"Damn it all!" Sammy smirked as he heard his father's loud profanity. Think of the devil.
"What is it honey?" Mrs. Grant couldn't have possibly heard the swearing, what with her music being so loud and all, but she seemed to have the psychic ability to sense when her husband was upset.
"The stupid computer crashed again! We need to update the software!" Mr. Grant complained from the other room, eventually entering the kitchen and dragging his wife back to the computer room to see what the stupid machine had done.
Sammy continued to smirk as he finished the dishes and took over dinner, knowing that his mother would be occupied for quite sometime. When his dad started talking about computers, his dad didn't shut up. Sammy was firmly convinced that the only reason he stayed in school was so he didn't have to spend all day at home listening to his father talk about hard drives and megabytes. It was all Greek to him.
He began trying to think of his costume as he cut up the tomatoes and peppers for the spaghetti sauce. He often used cooking as a way of doing something productive with his hands while he let his mind wander. He almost laughed out loud remembering last June during exams. He'd been so busy going over his history notes in his head and worrying about the test that he just kept peeling potatoes. By the time his mother returned to the kitchen to see why the potatoes weren't done yet, Sammy had peeled over 50 of the things. And mom managed to find enough different recipes for potatoes that we managed to eat all of them over the course of one week and not go crazy. He'd never tell his mother it, mainly because it would go to her head and she'd start trying to hang out at malls or something, but Sammy thought she was pretty cool.
At that moment Mrs. Grant took it upon herself to poke her head back in the kitchen long enough to tell Sammy that she had some instant sauce if he just wanted to add the vegetables to that and save some time. Sammy searched for the can opener (eventually finding it in Jessica's room�he wasn't going to ask) and continued with dinner.
Which brings me back to my original question: What am I going to go as? Sammy turned the burners on low and waited for his fathers lecture to end before announcing dinner. His mother hugged him again. "Thank dear. You're simply an angel."
Sammy's face immediately brightened. "That's it mom! You're a genius." He raced up the stairs towards his room.
Not having the faintest idea what her son was talking about, Mrs. Grant faked it. "I know. " Her husband and daughter gave her an odd look.
"I think you're taking what I said a little to serious dear." Mrs. Grant laughed as she continued work on the angel wings that her son had begun.
"Know you've got your own homework and all, but I can't sew." Sammy watched in utter amazement as his mother's fingers flew through the sewing machine. It was truly a miracle that she'd never had even a scratch from the whirring needle her fingers passed so close to.
"You can cook," His mother smiled, mouth full of pins. ",why not sew?"
Sammy grinned. "That whole women in the kitchen thing is a myth. Men belong in the kitchen, women belong in the laundry room."
"I know several people at the university who would shoot you for that."
Sammy shook his head, trying to do the innocent thing that Jessica did so well. "I didn't mean it as an insult. It was a compliment given in the highest regard."
"Really?" His mother raised a brow, daring to take her eye off the needle long enough to look at her son.
"Oh yeah." He agreed. "Braving fire and scalding, that's easy for a man. Sticking my finger within an inch of a needle that is moving faster than I can blink, that only a women can do."
Mrs. Grant laughed. "Oh." She sighed. "You had to tear apart your pillows for the feathers, didn't you?"
"Where else was I supposed to get feathers?" Sammy knew that his decision to make the wings out of hanger wire, his sheets and the feather's from his pillow was a little impulsive, but he was never one to shy away from action.
"A bird?" His mother stopped the machine for a minute to remove old pins and add new feathers. "A very large bird."
Sammy grinned. "I'll remember that for next time. Even though it wouldn't look really good for an 'angel' to go chasing after birds and stealing their feathers."
"Mommy!" Jessica whined from the other room. "Mommy!"
Sammy rolled his eyes. "Maybe I could just send Jessica. Torturing things seems to be her favourite past-time lately."
"We're not things Sam, we're people." She finished the last line of feathers to an ungodly noise that Jessica began making. "Here." She gave the creation to Sam. "Make any minor adjustments. I think you're brave enough." She grinned. "I'd better stop her before she wakes the neighbours."
Sammy entered the living room five minutes later in his full costume. "So how do I look?"
"You're a bird?" His father didn't catch on very quickly to anything that didn't involve a keyboard and at least two words that the average person wouldn't know.
"An angel." His mother grinned. "Now I can tell all the girls that my son �is- a perfect angel."
Jessica reverted to a small child's best line of offense, tears. "Am I an angel too?" She threatened to sob if the answer was not to her liking.
Mrs. Grant smiled. "Of course dear. I have two perfect angels."
"But I'm better, right?" Jessica lead her mother into the question.
"You're pushing it there kid." Sammy felt like swatting the girl, but figured it wouldn't suit his new angelic demeanor.
"Why an angel?" His father was a conversation behind. "Isn't that girly?"
Spoken by an actual man, that comment might have been hurtful. Coming from a short balding guy who spent his days in front of a computer, it was rather funny. Both Sammy and his mother fought back laughter.
"What better way to attract girls?" Sammy laughed. "Birds of a feather tend to flock together."
His mother laughed, but neither Jessica nor Mr. Grant got the joke. "I thought you were an angel?" The young girl finally asked.
"Why don't you go get into your costume Jess?" Mrs. Grant changed the topic when she saw her son was about to die of exasperation. His mother whispered behind her hand so only Sammy could see her mouth the word 'devil'. Sammy snickered, letting his mother know that he approved of Jessica's costume choice. In all truth, it really wasn't Jessica's fault that she was a brat, she was spoiled rotten by pretty much everyone. Finally Sammy knew why that expression was phrased that way. She was spoiled until she was rotten. He shook his head. "I'll be back before dawn, promise."
"That's vampires." Mrs. Grant smiled as she lead Jessica off. "Angels are allowed out in the sunlight."
"See ya mom." Sammy headed for the door.
"Be careful." Mrs. Grant called after him.
Sammy stopped, shocked, in the door. It was probably the first time his mother had ever said that to him. "Why?'
"Odd things happen on Halloween." His mother smirked. "Have fun."
Off to the party� 
Background from All Hallow's Eve Backgrounds
Pictures from Make Males.
