Ollie’s parents, Sydney and Stu Baker, were ready to win Halloween. The parents planned to hit up the houses of local celebrities, the blocks with the biggest candy bars, and low-traffic blocks to get the biggest haul from people who were just happy to see a kid.
Stu stayed in the car as the Halloween getaway driver, while Sydney led their five-year-old Ollie up the sidewalk with a flashlight. Ollie wore khaki pants with binoculars around his neck. He dragged a stuffed crocodile dejectedly down the sidewalk and clutched a Halloween bucket shaped like a snake.
“Now honey, who are you again?” Sydney asked, looking back at her son.
“I wanted to be Bluey,” Ollie said.
Sydney gave her son the side-eye, and Ollie sighed.
“I’m the Crocodile man,” Ollie said, then added, “Croco!”
“No, Ollie, it’s Crikey,” Sydney said. “You’re the Crocodile Hunter, and you say Crikey! We worked on the accent too.”
“Why have I never seen this guy before?” Ollie said. “I could have been Spider-Man or a Minion!”
Sydney did not address why Ollie had never seen Steve Irwin. “We talked about this. The goal is to increase nostalgia among the older generations. The Crocodile Hunter resonates with millennials and Gen X.”
“Crikey!” Ollie said sadly. Every year was like this with his parents. He hated Halloween.
The pair kept walking down the street. They were going to the local weatherman’s house.
“Wait, Mom, isn’t that Bobby’s house?”
Sydney looked. “Yeah, but he has four siblings. There’s no way they have good candy.”
“But he got to dress as BB-8!” Ollie said. “Can we go see if he’s home?”
“That’s a little of a no-man’s-land costume,” Sydney said, ignoring her son. “It’s not currently relevant, and it doesn’t really hit the nostalgia quotient.”
Ollie threw his head back and said, “Crikey!”
“That’s much better,” Sydney said.
After they’d been to a couple of houses, Stu hurried them into the car, then sped off, leaving tire marks on the pavement. Ollie looked out the window as they sped by kids and houses. “Dad, Dad, look at that house. They have actual ghosts in the front lawn! How are they doing that?”
“I can’t look,” Stu said. “We have to stay on schedule. There are only so many hours of Halloween.”
Ollie kept looking back at the ghosts floating in the yard until they disappeared. Every holiday they had to optimize. Ollie thought it was a miracle he survived last Easter.
“Stu, what are you doing?” Sydney said suddenly. Stu had turned onto a street with barricades blocking off the sea of trick-or-treaters.
“It’s a shortcut,” Stu said, as costumed kids and their parents outside darted out of the car’s way. Suddenly, a cop appeared in front of them, motioning with a flashlight for them to pull over.
“Is that a real cop?” Sydney asked.
“I’ll ask,” Stu said, rolling down the window as the cop approached. “Are you a real cop?”
“Did you not see that the street was blocked off?” the cop said, ignoring Stu.
“We’re just trying to make good time,” Stu said. Sydney tried to stay calm so she didn’t scream at Stu. Ollie could tell his mom wished she had driven.
“Well, now you’re getting a ticket,” the cop said. “You got a kid back there?”
Ollie waved sheepishly as the cop looked into the back seat.
“Kid, what are you?” the cop said.
“I’m the Crocodile Hunter,” Ollie said. “Crikey!”
“I have kids and I’ve never heard of him. Who is he?” the cop asked.
Ollie shrugged. “I don’t know either.”
“Well, kid, go trick-or-treat with your mom.”
Sydney interjected, “This is not an ideal trick-or-treating block. Just the metrics of this place…”
“You see how many kids are here?” the cop asked. “Go trick-or-treat.”
Ollie happily got out of the car. The block was hazy with smoke from a machine. Light shows filled Ollie’s eyes as he moved among dancing animatronics. Ollie did not know Halloween could be this good. “Come on, Mom!”
Ollie started running to the first house, but then almost ran over a BB-8.
“Bobby!” Ollie yelled with delight. “Your costume is so cool!”
“Thanks, Ollie,” Bobby said. Bobby was with his four siblings, all dressed as whatever they wanted to be for Halloween. Bobby’s Mom was close behind.
“How’s the trick-or-treating?” Bobby’s Mom asked.
“We’ve only been to like four houses,” Ollie said.
“But all four had full-sized candy bars,” Sydney added, as she caught up to her son.
“Oh, we have loads,” Bobby’s Mom said. She turned to her five kids. “Everyone, scoop a handful into Ollie’s bag.”
“Crikey!” Ollie exclaimed in a perfect Australian accent. Without his parents’ help, it was by far his biggest Halloween haul ever.