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“My dads say it’s not for kids and I need to wait for years before I can watch it.”

I chuckled. “That sounds very smart. It’s definitely not something for anyone who is underage.” I was pretty sure I’d seen a version that was R-rated.

He sighed.

“Did you know that the Raven Master at the Tower of London wrote a book about the ravens that live there?” I asked, trying to redirect his brain to a little safer territory.

“What? Really?” And there we went.

Mike and Russ both chuckled, and even Shiloh looked fond as he slid back off the couch where he’d been talking to Mike and went to put away their game. I got my phone out and found the book for Payton.

At least I already had my own costume ready. I didn’t want to be recognized when the ranch filled with folks from town, after all. Nobody had asked me to perform, which told me that everyone here knew, loved, and respected me. Instead, I’d be incognito, enjoying the evening with the rest of them.

I couldn’t wait for the food truck offerings and well, the ghost horses were something I really wanted to see with my own eyes.

Chapter 11

Bodhi

Ididn’t really care for Halloween. As far as holidays went, I was a much bigger fan of Thanksgiving and Christmas. But every year, Blue Creek Ranch hosted a community Halloween party that included activities, areas for the younger kids, trick-or-treating stations, as well as local food and drink trucks. It was a whole party that everyone loved and looked forward to every year, especially after the “ghost horses” were added a couple of years ago.

My sister Fern’s birthday was the second of November, and she was the one who came up with the idea years ago. Mom immediately jumped on board and though it had started out small, every year it had grown into the event it was now. Fern and Mom had it down to a well-oiled machine at this point. I’d missed most of it when I was in the Corps, but now that I was back, I’d been conscripted into helping. And since it was my family, I was happy to help. I purposefully didn’t schedule a session in the week leading up to the event and put my muscles to work carrying, decorating, and setting up.

But I purposefully didn’t dress up. I hated the whole costume thing. Even when I was a kid. The only reason I put on a costume and went trick-or-treating when I was younger was because Wren wanted me to. Always, I capitulated, though honestly he didn’t have to try to convince me. He said he wanted us to go together and so we did.

This year, I’d planned on the same, but first Payton and Shiloh, and then Aria, begged me to get into the spirit. So here I was, staring at myself in the mirror, dressed in attire I was certain I would never put on again.

Not that it was an official uniform. Despite the reason I left the Corps, I still respected the uniform and regulations. The pants were a generic camouflage, as was the cover, though the olive drab T-shirt was from my wardrobe as were my LPC’s. My brain clocked the wrongness of the camouflage pattern, but the point was to look like a Marine without disrespecting the uniform.

The point of putting it all on was to see if I could, to see if it opened the wound in my soul or was just another outfit. Chandra had been in favor when I brought it up, because Pay had somewhat jokingly said I could go as a Marine for the day. When I explained about the regs, he’d looked at me with his big, wide eyes.

“Not the real uniform, Uncle Bodhi. But you can get stuff that looks like it at Landry’s. I’ve seen it. It’s supposed to be a costume.”

And he was right, just like he often was, because the kid’s brain worked better than most adults.

So, I put it on, just to see how I felt. And after staring at myself for a good few minutes, I realized I felt nothing. I wasn’t upset or hurting, but neither did I feel disrespectful. My brain knew the pattern wasn’t right, knew that the clothes I was wearing weren’t regulation. It looked like my backup costume of a pair of my dad’s old show chaps, complete with the fringe, and an old Resistol felt hat I’d had since I was a teen because I liked the shape more than a Stetson, was not needed.

I took off my cover and tossed it on the bed, where Gimlet turned his eye toward me and squinted his displeasure since I’d clearly interrupted his nap. I ignored him and reached for the nightstand drawer, opening it slowly, and reached in. Unerringly, I found my dog tags. I hadn’t worn them since the day I left the Corps, but now I turned them over in my hand, really looking at them. Then I let out a slow breath and looped them around my neck. The weight was familiar, even after all this time, and I left them outside the shirt. It completed the look. I settled the cover back on my head, making sure it was straight. And then, because it was a costume, I rolled up the sleeves on the T-shirt so that my Eagle, Globe, and Anchor tattoo on my right bicep was fully visible.

I blew out a breath and left the bedroom, feeling fine, and knowing I had to get over to the main part of the property, as the party had already started.

But when I opened the door, Gremlin was sitting on top of the stairs. She wasn’t alone. Next to her was an all black cat and because the light above the door was shining directly on them, I clocked the notched ear. I hated the practice, but it was standard procedure for all trap, neuter, and release cats here. At least I knew without a doubt that the cat had been neutered and had vaccinations at some point.

Gremlin, as usual, ignored me as she walked into the apartment. But the black cat followed right along. I didn’t even question it, especially because on a night like tonight, it was far better for a black cat to be indoors. They both drank and ate, and I left them to it before I tried to see if the cat was friendly. He, because I checked, simply let me pet him and look him over. He was skinny and probably needed a dewormer, but didn’t even fuss when I pulled out the flea and tick medicine and squirted it on the back of his neck.

Looked like once again, the cat distribution system had found me.

The homestead was crawling with people by the time I slipped into the crowd. Since I knew parking would be scarce, I’d double-timed it across the fields. Because I was a good son, I found Mom first, before socializing, in case she needed anything.

Her breath caught when she saw me, even though I was sure she knew what I was going to do. I’d discussed it with Dad the other day and anything he knew my mom knew. It was a given and something we’d all accepted long ago. Not that they wouldn’t keep secrets from each other if we asked them not to tell, but I, and all of my siblings, tried never to do that. It wasn’t fair.

Mom collected herself quickly, and then gave me a mock scowl. “You’re late.”

In answer, I pulled out my phone and showed her the pic I’d taken of the new addition making himself at home, curled up in front of the wood burning stove even though it wasn’t lit. Gimlet was nearby, but neither cat seemed interested in the other.

She chuckled, “I should have known. It just showed up?”

“It’s a Halloween miracle,” I deadpanned, stuffing my phone back in my pocket. “What needs doing?”