My brother starts thinking about Halloween almost as soon as
we return from our annual July vacation. For him, it’s the next important
activity on the calendar. He manages to wait until Labor Day though before he
starts talking about costume shopping.
In recent years, he’s been Uncle Sam, an Indian chief, a policeman,
a cowboy (sheriff), Captain America, the Lone Ranger, and King Tut. It’s very serious business. He gets totally
into whatever character he is playing, and is often most interested in the paraphernalia
that accompanies the costume. Badges, tomahawks, guns, shields, handcuffs…..and
hats…. hats are usually crucial to the look.
After I spent inordinate amounts of time & energy sewing
Uncle Sam and the Indian chief, I determined that almost any amount of money
was worth avoiding late night sew-a-thons and nation-wide ebay searches for red
& white striped fabric. Now we make
an annual trip to the seasonal Halloween store that appears every September in a
nearby city.
It’s crucial that we go earlier than later in the season on
this shopping trip to avoid running all over creation seeking his costume
choice in something smaller than XL. That’s because he’s pint sized. All
costumes have to be altered. But when it’s XL to begin with, it has to be
practically remade.
So Saturday is the designated shopping day. As we walk from
the car to the store, I remind him of all the [expensive] costumes he has at
home and maybe he’d like to consider re-wearing one of them sometime. He listens patiently as I recite the list of costumes
worn one season, then packed away. “No,”
he says decisively, “maybe a new one.” OK.
Once inside, the first order of business is to make the
rounds to all the elaborate scary decorations set up and wired for
sound/activity – zombies leaping from tombstones, two-headed babies, beings
with bulging eyes gnawing on bloody body parts. We dutifully press all the “press
me” buttons and step on the “step on me” wires on the floor that awaken all
these creatures. This activity properly puts us in the Halloween mood.
Then we go up and down every aisle to identify costume candidates. Right away, Dave sees a powder blue “outfit”
from a Dumb and Dumber movie. I know this only because it says that on the
package. I point out that neither he nor I know this movie OR the character so
we shouldn’t even consider it. He puts
it back. I point out Spiderman, Superman, The Incredible Hulk, all costumes I
think would please him ….. he ignores me and beelines to a Mad Hatter outfit. He wants to know what comes with it, so I read
the list of contents and point to them on the photo. He seems
mildly interested. Patiently I follow him from display to display. He picks up
a haunted scarecrow outfit. We review
the package ingredients. I offer my unsolicited opinion - “That’s cool Dave. You’d look spooky in
that.” He opts to carry it with him.
He spies a black t-shirt with a white tuxedo/skeleton design
on it. “I like dat, “ he tells me. “Yes, it’s neat,” I say. “But we’d have to
put an outfit together around it.” It did not come in a package filled with
other items. I note that the tag says “The Nightmare Before Christmas” and
start looking for similarly tagged items.
I don’t know this movie so I’m disadvantaged. There’s a big white
pumpkin head with the same label. Some gloves. This might work. “Nah,” he says, distracted by a hat/mask he’s
found on a shelf that looks like an armored knight might wear. “This cool,” he
says. “OK,” I agree, “let’s find an outfit that it might work with.” I go off in search of knight-like outfits. He
vetoes the two I find.
“How about we circle back and look at everything a second
time, Dave,” I suggest as we reach the back of the store. He likes this idea a
lot. I remind myself to be patient – or at
least to feign patience. I would not
like it if someone were hurrying me when I’m anguishing over which pair of
jeans I like best. I ask him if he remembers any costume that he
might like to see again. “The one with the hat,” he says. I find the mad hatter who joins the phantom
scarecrow as a contender. We pass
Spiderman again. Bat Man. A Power
Ranger. A pirate. I show him an army ranger, a sailor in a
sailor suit. I cannot imagine why Mr. Patriotic isn’t embracing either of
these.
“The other one
with the hat,” my brother says suddenly. Which other one with the hat, I think?
The knight hat? He says it with such
vehemence that I know he has something particular in mind. I usually lose at
guessing games, so I steer him back to the beginning of the store . “Let’s
start over and find what you’re thinking about,” I say.
Two aisles into the second round, he darts forward and grabs
a package. “Dis one,” he says. It’s the powder blue Dumb and Dumber outfit. “Really?”
I ask. I’m still stuck on we’ve never seen this movie and we don’t know this
dude in powder blue. My brother quietly
says, “I be a movie star.” A movie star.
OK. We examine the contents list. “The
hat?” he asks. “Yes,” I assure him, “it comes with the hat.”
We look a little longer but he has obviously made his
decision. We put back the Mad Hatter and the scarecrow and go to pay for the
powder blue get-up. “You’re sure?” I
prod before we approach the counter. David
is smiling widely. He’s sure. The young man behind the counter says, “Oh, I can’t
wait for the new one to come out.” I
admit that I didn’t know one was coming out, don’t know anything about the
first one and “neither does he,” I say, pointing to my brother. “He thinks he’s going to be a movie star.”
We stop at my aunt’s to try on the costume so I can pin the
pants and the sleeves of the jacket in order to alter them – and so she can see
it. He wants to try on the whole thing
so I help him with the frilly tuxedo shirt, the cummerbund. “The hat?” he says
worriedly. “Yes, there’s a hat here. Don’t worry.” I take it out of the package, pop it back to
life, and place it ceremoniously on his head.
I look at my aunt. “He looks like
a pimp,” I say. But my brother is
beaming. I think he’s actually blushing.
“Me a movie star,” he proclaims, striking a pose. My heart, understanding his
fantasy, starts to smile. He says it
again, a little more sure of himself – “I am
a movie star.” He wiggles his eyebrows
and makes an exaggerated motion with an invisible cigar that would do Groucho
Marx proud.
I make a mental note to find him a fake cigar. A star may be born.
