Nothing much happens: bedtime stories to help you sleep - Trick or Treat

Episode Date: October 25, 2021

Our story tonight is called Trick or Treat and it’s a story about a roaming the streets on All Hallow’s Eve. It’s also about a gust of wind that turns you around, lit porch lights, and making memories with the people you love.So get cozy and ready to sleep.Purchase Our Book: https://bit.ly/Nothing-Much-HappensSee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Welcome to Bedtime Stories for Grownups, in which nothing much happens. You feel good, and then you fall asleep. I'm Catherine Nicolai. I read and write all the stories you hear on Nothing Much Happens. Audio engineering is by Bob Wittersheim. If you love the world of Nothing Much, you can get even more of it at nothingmuchappens.com. We have beautiful new merch,

a gorgeous book and audiobook available all over the world, and bonus and ad-free episodes through our subscription feeds. Again, find it all at nothingmuchappens.com. Let me say a bit about how this podcast works. Just as your body needs a bed to sleep in, your mind needs a place to rest. Someplace calm and safe and simple. And that's what the story is, a place to rest your mind. I'll tell it twice, and I'll go a little bit slower the second time through. As you listen, pull the details of the story around you like a blanket.

Imagine yourself in the story, and before you know it, likely before I finish reading, you'll be deeply and peacefully asleep. If you wake again in the middle of the night, walk yourself back through any of the details from the story that you can remember. It'll put your mind right back into that nest, and you'll be waking up tomorrow feeling relaxed and refreshed. Now, it's time to settle in and set yourself up for sleep. Turn off the light. Set aside anything you've been looking at or working on.

Adjust your pillows and comforter until you feel completely at ease. You are about to fall asleep and you will sleep deeply all night. Take a deep breath in through your nose and sigh through the mouth. Again, breathe in, and out. Good. Our story tonight is called Trick or Treat, and it's a story about roaming the streets on all Hallows' Eve. It's also about a gust of wind that turns you around,

lit porch lights, and making memories with the people you love. Trick or treat, the sunlight was almost gone. In another ten minutes, it would be dark. I stepped out onto the porch and looked up and down the street. There were jack-o'-lanterns lit on front steps and balancing on porch railings at nearly every house. I heard my neighbor's front door open a moment later.

She flicked on her porch light and stepped into the halo it cast. Dressed in a high-waisted, scarlet-colored dress, a tiara on her head, and a heart-shaped jewel on a chain around her neck. She struck a match and lifted the stem cap of the giant pumpkin on her top step and lit the candle inside.

I waited for her to shake out the match, for the fire to turn to smoke, rippling away from her fingers, then called out to her, Are you the Queen of hearts again? that makes three years in a row doesn't it? she laughed as she looked over at me and adjusted her crown

she called something back but a gust of wind rolled down the street, and I barely heard her over the sound of fallen leaves caught in its pull. I thought she'd said something about it being the house's favorite, but when I looked back at her porch, she'd already gone inside. I scanned up and down the street again, and far at the end of the next block, I saw a few trick-or-treaters setting off. It was time. I set a large bowl of candy on a table by my front door, stretching a bit of fake cobweb

over the top to give the littles a thrill. Usually I'd stay and hand out candy till all the porch lights had gone out But this year I had a different job My nephews had asked, for me especially Had said this year couldn't auntie take them. I'd buffed my nails on my shirt,

pleased that I must have finally achieved what I'd set out for since they were babies, to be a cool aunt. And in the vein of being a cool aunt. And in the vein of being a cool aunt, had agreed to let them pick out my costume. The youngest had lost one of his front teeth the day before, and it seemed to offer some inspiration. He'd pointed at me and said,

Tooth Fairy. And that was that. Well, I'd rather have been a pirate, but had already shaken hands on the deal. So I'd pulled together a pink tutu that I wore over my jeans and sneakers, made a wand from a dowel with a cardboard cutout of a tooth stuck on top, and found some sparkly fairy wings at the resale shop,

which were helpfully already sewn onto the back of a jacket. It was a varsity jacket, in fact, and I'd taped a Hello, My Name Is sticker over the previous owner's name and written in bright orange sharpie, Maxine T. Ferry. I laughed at it as I did it. It was a bit of family lore, a story our mother had always told us, that the tooth fairy's name was Maxine. It was one of those things that you took for true,

for a universally known fact, an only realized later wasn't any such thing. For example, when saying it out loud in front of a group of adults at a party. Hypothetically speaking, of course. Now, the full night was upon us. The candy bowl was full, and I was kitted up and ready to be on my way. Luckily, my nephews lived just around the corner. I hopped down the front steps and out onto the corner. I hopped down the front steps and out onto the sidewalk.

Already the number of trick-or-treaters had tripled, and up and down the street, doors were opening and letting all sorts of characters out into the chilly night. I passed superheroes and zombies, clever witches and silver-whiskered cats, little clumps of excited, roving kids with orange pails or pillowcases in their hands.

Their grown-ups attempting to let them take the lead, but not get too far ahead. I guessed that was a constant process in parenting. At the corner, the wind picked up again in a sudden gust, and the trick-or-treaters gave shrieks of happy fright and hustled up walkways to call out at the lit front doors. That gust of wind had spun me around, and I looked up at the house on the corner. There wasn't a light on in the whole house. And as I thought about it, I realized I couldn't remember ever seeing anyone there.

It was strange. In this neighborhood, I knew most everyone. We had block parties and did spring cleanup together every year, sweeping out the gutters and planting impatience around the trees in the avenue. But it was almost as though I'd barely ever noticed this house. It had a long cobblestone drive and a pretty sweeping roofline over a front porch where a swing was hung.

It was still swinging from the gust of wind that had blown me around, although the rest of the house was very still and quiet. Right in the corner of the yard at the edge of the sidewalk was a tiny lending library. And even in the dim light I could see it was stocked with books. I peered in a little closer and saw a small, round pumpkin, no bigger than an apple, carved with a crooked grin sitting on the shelf.

The wind came again in a cool blast and seemed to push me on around the corner toward my nephews and the house was forgotten again. I picked up my pace, knowing that they must be eager and excited to get out on the street. I was no less excited. I knew as they got older,

they'd rightly spend more time with friends. Eventually, head out on Halloween nights without me, without their dads. So tonight was special, and I meant to enjoy every minute of it. Soon I was bounding up their front steps, admiring their four pumpkins carved with varying degrees of creative skill, but all of them fun to look at, and hid out behind a couple taller kids,

holding out their bags to my brother on the doorstep. When they turned back toward the sidewalk, already bargaining, trading treats to get their favorite, I popped up and held out my hand, saying, Trick or treat. My brother laughed at my costume and handed me a bag of sweet and salty popcorn. Treat, he said, and gave me his best big brother stare. The boys saw me through the open door and rushed out with their bags.

Tooth Fairy called the youngest in approval. He was dressed in a furry blonde suit with floppy ears and a tail. I'm the dog, he said, pointing to their giant retriever who sat thumping her tail onto the carpet and being a very good girl. The oldest was a wizard, though he didn't have a pointed hat or spangled cloak. When I asked him about it, he explained to me that that was a very old-fashioned idea of wizards, and that I had a lot to learn. He read my name tag and gave me a questioning look.

How do you know the tooth Fairy's name is Maxine? I squatted down beside him and whispered, Everyone knows that. Ask your dad. Dad, what's the Tooth Fairy's name? My brother, hero that he is, while still handing out popcorn to the next batch of pirates and ghosts, said immediately, Maxine. They both looked up at me in wonder. Cool, aunt. And out into the night we went. Trick or treat.

The sunlight was almost gone. In another ten minutes, it would be dark. I stepped out onto the porch and looked up and down the street. There were jack-o'-lanterns lit on front steps and balancing on porch railings at nearly every house. I heard my neighbor's front door open a moment later. She flicked on her porch light and stepped into the halo it cast. Dressed in a high-waisted, scarlet-colored dress, a tiara on her head, and a heart-shaped jewel on a chain around her neck.

She struck a match and lifted the stem cap of the giant pumpkin on her top step and lit the candle inside. I waited for her to shake out the match, for the fire to turn to smoke, rippling away from her fingers, then called out to her.

Are you the queen of Hearts again? That makes three years in a row, doesn't it? She laughed as she looked over at me and adjusted her crown. She called something back, but a gust of wind rolled down the street, and I barely heard her over the sound of fallen leaves caught in its pull. I thought she'd said something about it being the house's favorite. But when I looked back at her porch, she'd already gone back inside. I scanned up and down the street again, and far at the end of the next block, I saw a few trick-or-treaters setting off. It was time. I set a large bowl of candy on a table by my front door, stretching a bit of fake cobweb over the top

to give the littles a thrill. Usually, I'd stay and hand out candy till all the porch lights had gone out. But this year, I had a different job. My nephews had asked for me especially. Had said this year couldn't auntie take them. I'd buffed my nails on my shirt, pleased that I must have finally achieved what I'd set out for

since they were babies, to be a cool aunt. And in the vein of being a cool aunt, had agreed to let them pick out my costume. The youngest had lost one of his front teeth the day before, and it seemed to offer some inspiration. He'd pointed at me and said, Tooth Fairy?

And that was that. Well, I'd rather have been a pirate, but had already shaken hands on the deal. So I pulled together a pink tutu that I wore over my jeans and sneakers, made a wand from a dowel with a cardboard cutout of a tooth stuck on top, and found some sparkly fairy wings at the resale shop, which were helpfully already sewn onto the back of a jacket. It was a varsity jacket, in fact, and I'd taped a Hello, My Name Is sticker over the previous owner's name and written in bright orange sharpie, Maxine T. Ferry. I laughed as I did it. It was a bit of family lore, a story our mother had always told us,

that the Tooth Fairy's name was Maxine. It was one of those things that you took for true, for a universally known fact, and only realized later wasn't any such thing. For example, when saying it out loud in front of a group of adults at a party, hypothetically speaking, of course. Now, the full night was upon us. The candy bowl was full, and I was kitted up and ready to be on my way. Luckily, my nephews lived just around the corner. I hopped down the front steps and out onto the sidewalk. Already, the number of trick-or-treaters had tripled, and up and down the street, doors were opening, and letting all sorts of characters out into the chilly night air. I passed superheroes and zombies, clever witches and silver-whiskered cats.

Little clumps of excited, roving kids with orange pails or pillowcases in their hands. Their grown-ups attempting to let them take the lead, but not get too far ahead. I guessed that was a constant process in parenting. At the corner, the wind picked up again in a sudden gust, and the trick-or-treaters gave happy shrieks of fright and hustled up walkways to call out at the lit front doors.

The gust of wind had spun me around, and I looked up at the house on the corner. There wasn't a light on in the whole house, and as I thought about it, I realized I couldn't remember ever seeing anyone there. It was strange. In this neighborhood, I knew most everyone. We had block parties and did spring cleanup together every year,

sweeping out the gutters and planting impatiens around the trees in the avenue. But it was almost as though I'd barely ever noticed this house. It had a long cobblestone drive, and a pretty sweeping roofline over a front porch where a swing was hung. It was still swinging from the gust of wind that had blown me around, although the rest of the house was still and quiet. Right in the corner of the yard, at the edge of the sidewalk, was a tiny lending library. And even in the dim light, I could see it was stocked with books. I peered in a little closer

and saw a small round pumpkin, no bigger than an apple, carved with a crooked grin, sitting on the shelf. The wind came again in a cool blast and seemed to push me on around the corner toward my nephews when the house was forgotten again. I picked up my pace,

knowing they must be eager and excited to get out onto the street. I was no less excited. I knew as they got older, they'd rightly spend more time with friends, eventually head out on hollowing nights without me, without their dads. So tonight was special, and I meant to enjoy every minute of it. Soon, I was bounding up their front steps, admiring their four pumpkins carved with varying degrees of creative skill, but all of them fun to look at and hid out behind a couple taller kids

holding out their bags to my brother on the doorstep. When they turned back toward the sidewalk, already bargaining, trading treats to get their favorites, I popped up and held out my hand, saying, trick-or-treat. My brother laughed at my hand, saying, Trick or treat. My brother laughed at my costume

and handed me a bag of sweet and salty popcorn. Treat, he said, and gave me his best big brother stare. The boys saw me through the open door and rushed out with their bags. Tooth Fairy called the youngest in approval. He was dressed in a furry blonde suit with floppy ears and a tail. I'm the dog, he said,

pointing to their giant retriever who sat thumping her tail onto the carpet and being a very good girl. The oldest was a wizard, though he didn't have a pointed hat or spangled cloak. When I asked him about it, he explained to me that was a very old-fashioned idea of wizards, and that I had a lot to learn. He read my name tag and gave me a questioning look. How do you know the tooth fairy's name is Maxine? I squatted down beside him and whispered,

Everyone knows that. Ask your dad. Dad, what's the tooth fairy's name? And my brother, hero that he is, while still handing out popcorn to the next batch of pirates and ghosts, said immediately, Maxine. They both looked up at me in wonder. Cool