Joel went as the Lone Ranger complete with mask, bandanna, a cowboy hat with a drawstring, and a cap gun. I went as the devil with a red cape, a long tail, and horns. We had a pitchfork too and even though it looked cool, I wasn’t about to lug that around all night.

After we were dressed we went out back, taking chili and rolls for Grace, as well as all the costumes we thought might fit her. She devoured the chili and rolls as happily as we had. Then she began trying on the costumes, eventually settling on a clown outfit my mother once wore. It was a little big on her, but no one would notice. That’s kind of the point with clown costumes.

She put on a red foam rubber nose and a bright orange wig and she lined her mouth with a wide swath of lipstick. She decided to be a sad clown, so she drew tears on her cheek with eyeliner. When she was finished, I couldn’t have picked her out of a police lineup.

“You really can’t tell who I am?” she asked.

“Nope,” said Joel.

I shook my head. “Your own mother wouldn’t recognize you.”

It was hard to tell with all the makeup but I think she frowned when I said that.

We decided that we would go for an all-time candy harvest record. With ambitions as high as ours, we’d have to go some distance to find fertile ground—someplace far away from our poor, stingy street.

We were discussing the positives and negatives of taking our bikes when Grace said, “I know the perfect place. But we’ll have to take the bus to get there.”

Joel and I were open to going any place that promised more candy. I got three pillowcases from the linen closet, then the three of us walked down the street to catch the bus.

The bus ride was only fifteen minutes long and our destination turned out to be as fruitful as Grace promised. It was a crowded suburb of small, tidy homes built close together, just ripe for the picking. There were scores of children out and the streets looked like an elementary school Halloween parade.

The three of us swept the streets with remarkable efficiency. For the first two hours we rarely even had to say “trick-or-treat,” as invariably someone would already be at the door dispensing candy to another group of children.

As evening fell, the crowds started to thin, and by ten o’clock most of the little kids had gone home to bed. We continued to add to our haul, carrying our bulging pillowcases over our shoulders like Santa Claus. Although it was a reasonably warm night, relatively speaking, we still had to wear coats over our costumes.