They decided—when was it?—that they wanted to be characters from Redwall, a delightful series of adventure novels by Brian Jacques, books that are peopled by a cross between Tolkein’s Middle Earth warriors and Lewis’s talking animals.
Yes, it was sometime in late summer, perhaps, that William and Everett and their friends Andrew and Peter decided to dress as Redwall characters. They would be some bad guys, some evil rats, and they would go trick-or-treating together.
And I was So Proud of myself, really I was, when we left school on the Friday before Halloween. We had a half-day that day, and we left school and went straight to Wal-Mart where we would purchase any items they might need for their costumes (William’s bad guy was kind of a pirate, and he wore hoop earrings, and I don’t have any that he might borrow). Yes, I was Very Proud of myself, because I knew if we didn’t do the shopping now, the weekend would get away from us, and then it would be Monday, and the next day would be Halloween, and I didn’t want to do my shopping for costume bits on Either One of those days.
I don’t think my mother ever purchased anything for my Halloween costume. We always had wonderful costumes made entirely from bits of fabric, from old or lately-unworn clothes, from my mother’s jewelry box and scarf drawer. Over the years I was a gypsy, a queen, a baby, Princess SummerFallWinterSpring (she’s a native American; no relation to Disney’s Barbied-up Pocohantas), Raggedy Ann (I was Not Happy about that one, and the pictures prove it) and, when I was four, was it? “a ber-ride,” which was the way I said “bride,” and I was Very Happy about that.
But my mother is a Highly Resourceful and Creative Person and a seamstress to boot and I haven’t inherited those talents. So although we do make do for costumes with what we have for the most part, I am willing to purchase odd bits to 1) save time and 2) make my sons feel more Authentic.
At Wal-Mart we purchased spears and swords and—Glory!!—two hoop earrings and two eye-patches, because they were intended to be worn by a pirate.
I was Most Pleased, and felt I had been a Good Mother, and done my duty. And we had a plan as to how to make rat ears and rat noses and I decided not to trouble myself over their tails.
But then, the next day, we learned that Andrew and Peter would not be going as bad guys from Redwall.
That’s okay, right? We don’t All have to be dressed as bad guys from Redwall. William and Everett, you go ahead and be the bad guys. Andrew and Peter can be something else. That’s okay.
No. It wasn’t okay. And so suddenly, there we were. No longer Redwall warriors; we were now the Fellowship of the Ring. Ack! And we need cloaks, because what self-respecting Legolas goes traipsing about Middle Earth without his green elven cloak? And what decent Boromir doesn’t also have something to whip around his shoulders? How can he possibly be seen blowing the Horn of Gondor if he doesn’t have the right clothes to wear?
Am I rearing adolescent girls here? Or are we still little boys?
And I don’t have swaths of cloth lying around. Call me unprepared, but I don’t.
“It’s okay, Mom. I just need a green cape.”
And I’m wracking my brain on the drive home from school—On Monday—trying to envision what just might be passable for a green cape.
To the rescue: the drama department at Trinity School and my dear Janet Ray. Yes. Janet, mother of five and one of our school’s two music teachers—she heard my lament and didn’t miss a beat (she is, after all, a music teacher). By 3:30 on Halloween day she produced a selection of cloaks. Yes, they had a choice. And there, among her offerings: a wonderful and long swath of green cloth.
Now it will be freely admitted that Everett’s Boromir cloak was Too Long. But my mother (yes, that talented and resourceful woman mentioned earlier) was Here for Halloween (and that was a surprise and worth its own blog post in the future), and She took a basting stitch all around the hem of that cloak and She drew a beard on Boromir and She helped Legolas to fashion a bow for his arrows out of an unbent coat hanger.
It was perfect.
Andrew was Aragorn. Buddy David was Gandalf the White, and he left a small puddle of talcum on my coffee table as evidence of his magic. Peter was a Clone Trooper, but nobody minded. He made his mask himself.
And Emma Grace. Well. She was a Fairy Queen, which is what she meant to be from the beginning, Praise Be. I didn’t have to buy anything for her costume, because on most normal days, I’m the queen anyway, so we have All The Supplies We Need. My mother did her makeup, and she was Fabulous.
