"Do you believe in ghosts?" It was not the sort of question my wife normally asked. I'm the romantic type. She's a numbers person, a bean counter.
"I don't know. Why do you ask?"
"Well, we're hiking up to a ghost town, aren't we?"
"It's not that sort of ghost town"
"It was a thriving village once." A voice broke in behind us. One of the guys walking along with us had overheard our conversation. "All this area was full of iron mines, and smelters. The trees were all cut down to provide fuel. It an industrial waste land."
"Until they found better resources further west," I added, "better iron ore, and coal. And, of course, there was Harriman."
"Harriman?" The guy didn't know that part. "Like the park?"
"Exactly. You never heard the story?"
"God!" My wife groaned. "If hear this one more time, I am going to scream."
"All right then," I sighed. "Some other time."
"Well," she seemed pacified, "it's nice that the trees grew back." We were walking under huge oaks, surprisingly, still with their leaves so late in October. Although they had faded to a dark red, almost brown, they were glowing vividly in the setting sun.
"Have you noticed something?" I whispered to her.
"What's that?"
"We're like, the only couple."
"That's not true. I see a few other couples."
"Yeah, a couple of girls, a couple of guys. We're like, the only boy and girl couple."
"Yeah, well, Amy and her guy used to do this all the time. They just go up the cemetery and drink cocoa and hot apple cider, and read spooky stories. Then, maybe, on the way back, they go skinny dipping. You'll like that part, right? Other than that, it's a family thing. People bring their children."
"I don't see any children," I whispered. "I don't even see anyone who's interested in making babies."
"Stop that!" she hissed. "Someone will overhear us! You don't want to embarrass them. I'm always very nice to gay people, even when I don't know for sure if they're gay."
I was trying to decipher that one when someone shouted "Wait!" That stopped us all. "We're far enough down the trail now! It's time to reveal our costumes!"
There was a general stir, as everyone stripped off a coat, or sweat suit, and rearranged what was underneath. Everyone else, that is. We had our costumes in a bag, all we needed to do was to slip them on over our clothes. The typical Pizza Pie and Cheeseburger that had gotten us through many a Halloween party -- simple little tunics that would just go over a coat of need be, a mask, and a wig. It would only take a couple of seconds to don them. But we were too stunned by what was going on around us. All of a sudden, this did not look like a family outing.
"Oh. My. God." My wife was looking around, dazed. "Let's get out of here!" But she made no move to actually retreat.
"Just act like you belong," I whispered, "just act casual." That was easy to say, harder to do. My dick was practically ripping out of my pants at the flashes of bare flesh all around me.
"That's quite an outfit," I said, trying to fit in, as a man came prancing past us. He was wearing ballet slippers, pink silk stockings that came up just above his knees, a pink ballet sweater, and a tutu that was sticking straight out, revealing quite clearly that there was nothing underneath it. He was sticking out just a straight as the tutu. My wife was staring at the swollen head of his prick with horrid fascination. Well, maybe I was, too.
"Yes," the guy giggled, "I'm the Throat Fairy."
"Isn't that the Tooth Fairy?" my wife had to ask.
"Only if you like it that way," he tittered. A few of his friends came up along side us.
"Let me guess," I said, looking at one with a purplish dress and a crown, "you're a queen."
"Oh, you are so right!"
"And you," my wife peered curiously at someone who wearing a vest made out of little sticks, "you're a tree?"
"No, silly, a faggot!"
"And you? " I looked at a large woman wearing nothing, it seemed, except a lot of brown paint or mud, with a couple of patches of moss near, but not exactly covering, her nipples and groin. There was what seemed like a deliberate gap, to highlight the cleft of her vagina.
"I'm a dyke, of course" she growled.
"And you?" My wife looked at her companion, in a little blue sailor suit.
"I'm the Little Dutch Boy," she said brightly. Well, the shirt was open enough to show that certainly wasn't quite true. One little breast had already escaped completely, and the other was on its way. "I get to stick my finger in the dyke!" And she did just that, very casually, sliding most of her hand in where the moss was parted. "See? This is our full costume, but it's not easy hiking this way. Actually, I prefer my tongue."
"Later," the Dyke growled. "You already licked off the moss once, and we don't have any more."
"Oh, my God!" My wife was staring at a figure that had to be on stilts. It was wearing huge leather pants, and a red velvet jacket that was padded out and tucked over its head. "It's a giant pimp! With no head!"
"I'm the Headless Whores-Man!"
"And I'm the Whore!" A girl was walking along beside him, wearing nothing but a sheer nightgown that barely covered her waist. A plastic jack-o-lantern, face turned inward, was all that obscured her groin. "What are you two going to be?"
I was getting nervous. Somehow, Pizza Pie and Cheeseburger just were not going to cut it. Then it dawned on me -- what is the easiest outfit of all -- the Emperor's New Clothes -- and we could make it work, so easily. "We're going to be Adam and Eve."
"What?" my wife gasped.
"Adam and Eve," I repeated. "It's a pretty simple costume." I pulled off my shirt, and put it in the bag that held Pizza Pie and Cheeseburger. I pulled down my pants and underwear to my ankles, but they wouldn't go over my shoes. I had to bend down to untie them, and that provoked an appreciative whistle from the Throat Fairy.
"Just what, the fuck, do you think you are doing?" my wife whispered
"We're going to be Adam and Eve," I said. I was afraid to look up at her.
"No," she replied. "We're going to be Adam and leave." I managed to grab an ankle as she stormed off, and it actually tripped her. I crawled over next to her, still with the pants around my ankles.
"Come on, baby, be a sport."
"A sport, a sport!" She sat up to help me get my shoes off. "Look, dear heart, I know you like to run around naked at the drop of a hat, but if you think for one minute ..."
"Everyone else is naked."
"Not completely naked."
"There are some vines over there. You can wrap them around yourself."
