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17: “No Trick or Treating Allowed”
So many changes in such a short time mused Ali as she trudged home from school along 7th Avenue. She never would have imagined what curious things were in store for her when she wished on the stars from her bedroom window in the Valley so long ago. Her family was together in New York City, but not really together in the way she had hoped. Her father was living in the Hotel Preston and always busy with his show. Her mother worked late into the evening across the street, and Reynolds spent his time with boys his own age that he had met in school or in the apartment building.
Ali walked the four blocks home from school by herself now. Her father told her to walk with purpose, like she knew where she was going. Mostly she ran, her ponytail bobbing behind her, as she threaded her way through the thicket of people moving along the sidewalks. She would always stop at the intersections if the light was red, unlike a lot of the pedestrians.
“Whoosh,” a gust of cold wind swept around Ali as she stood at the corner and waited for a red light to turn green near the Hotel Wellington.
“Move along, youngster,” some man yelled at her as she waited one second too long to start crossing the street.
“HONK, HONK, HONK,” a taxi cab driver blared his horn as she quickly stepped up on the curb on the other side of the street. Ali had learned how to move much faster in the city, but it seemed like you could never move fast enough for some people, especially taxi cab drivers!
Along the route home, she peered into the storefront windows and enjoyed looking at all the Halloween advertising for candy. It was already the end of October! It seemed like every store had a picture of a pumpkin, or a witch, or a ghost beckoning the people on the street to come in and spend some money on Halloween stuff. Ali didn’t have any money for candy, but that didn’t matter------------tonight was Halloween!
In California you could walk from house to house with your jack o’lantern or a brown shopping bag and get lots of candy, but Ali soon learned that Halloween in the Valley and New York City were not the same. As soon as it got dark, Ali and Reynolds dressed up as pirates and began knocking on doors at the Osgood. Mostly, no one opened their door, or if they did, it was quickly and with a chain in place, and then words from someone unseen behind the partially opened door that said “Go away children, you can’t trick or treat here.”
The one person that was nice to them on the 7th floor was the lady who once lived in their apartment----the lady that their father called Madame Fifi. Her real name was Lili, but her parents came from France and a she owned a French poodle, so George called her Madame Fifi (but not to her face). She was in show business like George. She sang on stage and was an artist and had all kinds of pictures in her apartment of famous people she had worked with. “Oh, Enzio, he was so wonderful in South Pacific,” she would say. Ali didn’t know who any of them were, but she loved to listen to Madame Fifi. Ali also loved to visit her because of her French poodle named Babette. Sometimes Madame Fifi would come by and knock on their apartment door to see if Ali wanted to help her walk Babette. Ali always liked doing that.
Ali and Reynolds knocked on Madame Fifi’s door. She opened the door with her poodle in her arms and invited them in. She had her hair in curlers and was wearing her robe and slippers, but she was happy to see them.
“Oh my, Trick or Treating time and me with no candy,” she said looking around her tiny kitchen. She went to her purse and got them each a quarter.
“Go buy yourself something,” she said. There was music playing loudly in the background. Madame Fifi called it opera music. Ali listened a little, but couldn’t understand any of the words.
“Little ones, one day we shall go to Carnegie Hall and hear real music, not that junk they listen to nowadays. Shaking, Rattling, and Rolling, really. Has everyone lost their minds?” she said with a dismissive wave of her hand.
Ali saw the dog carrier in Madame Fifi’s bedroom. She always thought it was sad that the little dog had to stay in there whenever Madame was away. Madame had many beautiful dresses in her room on a big clothes rack and said that little Babette was bad when she used to go away; the dog would tear her dresses apart, so Babette ended up being put in a dog carrier when Madame was not at home.
“You are so cute, my little pirates, but I have to get beautiful for my show tonight.” She ushered Ali and Reynolds out of her apartment. As they began walking back to their apartment, their mother opened the door and said “Oh, there you are!. Everyone on the 7th floor is calling the switchboard and complaining about your knocking on their doors. Guess were not in California anymore.”
“Well, at least Madame Fifi gave us each a quarter,” said Reynolds with a shrug of his shoulders.
“Honey, I know your father called her that, but her name is Lili,” corrected their mother.
“And her little dog is Babette,” added Ali.
“I know this doesn’t sound exciting, but do you want to help me take the laundry down to the basement,” asked their mother.
“I didn’t know they had a basement here,” said Reynolds.
“Well they do, and there’s a washing machine and a bunch of racks for drying clothes down there. Actually it’s kind of spooky at nighttime,” said their mother knowing that might intrigue them to go with her.
“I’ll go,” volunteered Reynolds.
“Me, too” said Ali.
Caroline gathered up some laundry in a large basket. They went down to the basement on the service elevator, just off the garbage room near their apartment. It was kind of fun to pull the big cord that moved the elevator up and down, unlike the nice elevator up front that had an elevator man who operated it with a lever.
When they got to the basement level, they opened the cage-like door and ventured out. It really was spooky down there. Ali noticed that there were just a couple light bulbs here and there to light the way to where the washing machine was located.
“What are those noises mother? What’s that clanking and whooshing sound-----”
“Ghosts and goblins, Ali,” said Reynolds trying to scare his little sister.
For security, Ali held the back of her mother’s dress since her mother was carrying the basket of laundry.
“OOOOOOOOOOOOO,” howled Reynolds just behind Ali.
“Knock it off, Reynolds,” snapped his mother.
The basement was damp and dark and had several turns this way and that way before they got to a little corner with one washing machine.
“I hope we can find our way back, Mother,” said Ali a little fearfully, glancing back into the darkness. While Caroline loaded the clothes, Reynolds slipped out of sight.
“There’s the first load,” said Caroline. “We’ll come back in about 30 minutes and put those on the drying racks and then put in a second load.”
“Reynolds is going to try to scare me, I know he is,” said Ali well aware of her brothers antics. He was always trying to frighten her.
“Maybe he’s heading back upstairs, Honey. Let’s go now. Reynolds where are you? We know you’re out there somewhere. Don’t make me-----”
Suddenly running at both of them was Reynolds with a sheet draped over his head wailing like a banshee, “OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO.”
Unfortunately, the floors were slick and Reynolds went tumbling to the ground, knocking over a few laundry supply boxes along the way. Ali started to laugh at the sight of her brother wiggling around on the floor with the sheet all twisted around him and hollaring about how his leg hurt.
“Serves you right, young man,” said their mother.
They made their way back through the shadowy, labyrinthine basement with Reynolds limping along behind them.