Page 50 of Something Cryptid This Way Comes
We head downstairs, say goodbye to the dogs, leave the TV show featuring rescue farm animals playing for them, and then are on our way.
The streetlights glow with yellow warmth and twinkling lights in orange and purple are wrapped around the bases. Several people in costumes wander along Maple Street.
We stop by Special Blend first for a free shot of espresso. The shop’s owner, Caspian Lane, whose coffee recommendations have flavored many of my days in Maplewood, passes them out in festive cups imprinted with jack o’lanterns. The coffee is smooth and delicious and the jolt of caffeine comes on quick.
As we leave the shop, I spy Jason Zervudachi and his boyfriend Bellamy Jordan, who I’ve learned is a pro hockey player for the Vermont Trailblazers, with a group of friends. We smile and wave. Both men sport hockey jerseys, and I wonder if those were last-minute costumes, like Trevor’s and mine.
Ever’s shop is next door, but a large group of trick-or-treaters take up all the space inside, so we continue down to Scoops on Maple. There, Trevor introducesme to the shop’s owner, Sam Thatcher, and Sam gives us a trio of ice cream samples. Of the pumpkin pie, maple brown sugar, and vanilla with a salted caramel swirl, my favorite is the pumpkin. Trevor prefers the salted caramel.
We walk up and down Maple Street and I’m reminded of trick-or-treating with him as a kid. At Harmonic Circus, the music store’s owner passes out guitar picks and packs of foam ear plugs that he recommends concertgoers wear.
A detour to Garnet Drive gives us boxes of movie candy from the Playhouse. M&M’s for Trevor and Junior Mints for me. Back on Maple Street, we stroll through a series of moody paintings at Wild Palette.
When we leave the gallery, Trevor links his hand with mine and pulls me out of the path of people entering the space. “Let’s try Ever’s shop again.”
Two shops down the street, the Honey Spot is less crowded now. The bell on the door chimes as we enter. Our silver fox friend is dressed as a beekeeper which I know is his genuine outfit for handling his bee hives. Ever spots us and waves, but is in a conversation with a woman wearing a unicorn costume. Since he’s busy, we visit Dmitri at the counter.
Wearing a purple witch’s hat and cloak, he points a wand at a large black cauldron filled with individually wrapped honey candies. “Help yourselves.”
“Nice costume.” I reach in for two pieces and pass one to Trevor.
He flicks the side of his cloak so it billows, showing off the satin lining imprinted with stars. “Thanks.”
Ever comes over, scans our outfits, and smirks. “Did you both dress up as Trevor? Or are you supposed to be lumberjacks?”
“Ha, ha.” Trevor narrows his eyes in what I’m guessing issupposed to be a threatening gesture, but the quirk of his lips ruins the effect.
I sling my arm over his shoulder, bumping his hip with mine. “We’re embracing our grunge phase again.”
“Oh. Of course. I see it now.” Ever shakes his head at us.
Dmitri links his arm through Ever’s. “It’s not like you bought a costume either, my sexy beekeeper.”
“Shh.” Smiling at his boyfriend, Ever pulls Dmitri in for a kiss.
I add the candy to the bag we got at Harmonic Circus. “Are you coming to The Striped Maple?”
“We’ll head over as soon as we close up here.” Ever looks past us and waves at the new trick-or-treaters coming in.
“Cool. We’ll see you there.” I tap Trevor’s arm and angle my head toward the door. The shop is getting crowded and we’ll see our friends soon enough, since the trick-or-treating is wrapping up within the hour.
The night is cold, but Trevor’s arm around my shoulders and mine around his waist keep me warm while we walk the half block to The Striped Maple.
Several people in costumes hang around outside the building, some on phones, others vaping, and still more talking and trading candy from earlier stops at shops. We skirt around them and open the door. The pub is lively, brimming with people and upbeat music. Most of the patrons and pub employees are dressed in costumes.
Trevor leans in. “Let’s get a drink. We have a better chance at the bar than waiting for a table to open.”
He and I wind a path through the crowd, with Trevor stopping to greet just about everyone we see.
It takes me a second to recognize Mickey Brewer from Red’s Diner under his brown curly wig. My gaze falls to his denim shirt and jeans and the paint palette in hishand. He’s chatting with a guy wearing a blond mullet wig, black-rimmed glasses, a flannel shirt and jeans.
Rory, Adrian, and Zach, dressed as Ghostbusters in tan jumpsuits and proton packs, make the rounds, chatting with patrons.
An empty spot opens in front of the bar and we hurry to claim it.
Conall is behind the bar, rocking a pirate costume. His poet-style shirt with a laced front placket lies under a brown vest. Tan and maroon striped pants tuck into black boots, and a long black and red bandanna is tied around his head.
He sees us and saunters over, wearing a saucy smile. “Hey, guys, or should I say, sexy lumberjacks. We’re offering samples of a maple-bourbon cocktail called the Smashed Scarecrow. It’s similar to the one you taste-tested the other night. Want to try it?”
