Rude Awakenings: A Novel of the Terribly Acronymed Detective Club (Book 2)

Chapter Five: Lauren, Fall, 1978

Halloween of 1978 was going to be the absolute best Halloween Lauren ever had. At twelve years old, she was in prime physical form to last for hours of trick-or-treating. She was also still small enough to elicit exclamations of delight from homeowners about the cuteness of her costume, which earned her extra candy at every house. Normally she fumed when people assumed she was younger than she was, but on one night of the year she milked her diminutiveness for all it was worth.

She was also wearing the best costume she and her father had ever made together, and she was excited to show it off. It was a full suit of samurai armour, crafted of pieces of cardboard painted crimson and lacquered, and knit together with bits of rawhide. It had taken weeks to make but it was worth it. It was supposed to be a chilly night, so she wore it over the uwagi, obi and hakama she already used when practicing aikido with her dad. She decided against a helmet, though; she wanted to be able to see where she was going while she walked, and it was already going to be dark. Her hair had grown a little since the summer, though, so she completed her look with a chonmage, or traditional top knot worn by the samurai to hold their hair away from their heads in battle. Best of all, she was allowed to wear her bokken strapped to her belt. There was no way Dad would ever let her take Grandpa's sword, it was too sacred, and frankly too dangerous, to take as part of a costume; if some kid got their hands on it and swung it around, it could take a hand off or worse. The bokken was an adequate substitute, though; she practiced with it because it was blunt wood but curved in the same way the sword was, and the same weight as the sword, so it still looked fierce, and no one would mess with her while she carried it.

Lastly, she was going to go trick-or-treating with the best friends she ever had. She'd only known Rachel, Al, Joe and Sunny for a few months, but they'd already had more fun together than she could ever remember having had in Richmond. Rachel had incorporated the Lawrence Street Detective Club, and they'd already found one dog and passed off another dog as a dog that had died, the very dog over whom they'd met, and made good money from it. She and Rachel shared a paper route, and they got to spend hours together, chatting, laughing and talking about the boys behind their backs. Especially Joe. She hoped Joe would be impressed with her costume. Something about him fascinated her. The hair, surely, but something else, as well. A quiet capability that was very reassuring. She liked that when that old lady had tricked them into landscaping her backyard by pretending she'd lost something in that overgrown jungle, he didn't complain or get indignant and walk away from the job. He went right to work, and showed the rest of them what to do with their tools while he attacked the lawn with the mower. That was the kind of boy he was. He was almost older than his years. Al and Sunny were nice, too, and not afraid of work, either, since they'd gotten the neighbouring paper route to Lauren and Rachel's once they'd heard how easy it was to get one.

There was also another unexpected treat today. It was a school day, so they got to wear their costumes to class. Then, after school, they were all invited to Al's house, because October 31 also happened to be his birthday. What luck! He got to have presents and have his friends captive to his trick-or-treat route because they'd already be at his place when they started! Luckily, all of Al's friends already happened to live on his street. Still, she couldn't think of a better birthday for a kid: it was in the school year, so no one could decline to come because they were away for the summer; it was two fun events in one day; and last, but not least, presents and candy were guaranteed.

She emerged from her apartment, suited and ready with her school bag over her shoulder, and breathed in the fresh morning air. She went down what Rachel called the zig zag stairs and stood in front of Rachel's door, wondering if she should knock.

Just as she raised her hand to do so, the door flew open, and Rachel stood there, face crumpled and tear streaked, in something that looked like a torn sheet. "It's ruined!" she wailed.