It’s that time of the year for a holiday that encourages emptying the back of your closet and leaving the cobwebs alone, for they are the decorations.  For a year, every child and sweet tooth has been waiting for the 31st of the tenth month.  Halloween has arrived.

You may ask how I know this.  It clearly wasn’t the masses of Goshen College students raiding Goodwill and The Depot.

I don’t believe that masses of candy taking over Wal-Mart’s entrance were the cause for my suspicion.

I would be appalled at the thought of being notified of this spooky occasion by the Buzzfeed news being consumed by costume ideas for dogs and crying children.

To venture a guess, I would say that the pumpkins tipped me off.

At first, there was one.  Standing, oh so lonely, at the front of Java.  Then more appeared.

The Rott had a family of them set out for slaughter.  Suddenly, there were pumpkins everywhere and not a soul to claim them.  Where did they come from?           Linus, presumably, found them while looking for the great pumpkin, though I have yet to prove this theory and no Rott employee was available for comment.

After being tipped off, I began to plan.  I had ideas that were witty, creative and would win any costume contest the Howellers had.

Alas, it was not to be, for as every good thrifter knows, if you go into a thrift shop the day before Halloween you will never find the yellow dress, red heels or bubble umbrella you desperately need.

But a costume does not make one prepared for this spooktacular season.  No, I needed more.  Thus, I broke out the ghostly gifts delivered to me last year of orange lights, translucent skeletons and myriads of spider rings.

My decorations were thus scattered across my floor, artfully and gracefully so my 3 a.m. trips to the bathroom were as terrifying as the nonexistent GC haunted house, to prepare my room and all its visitors for the wonders of the delightful day.

Last, and I shall let you decide if it is least, I chose a movie.  A movie so spooky and devilish it must be a classic—Hocus Pocus.

I scoured the libraries, my friends’ rooms and the internet, but the thrifter side of me reminded the frightfully excited side of me that the night before Halloween you will never find the desires of your heart.

As the pumpkins will mysteriously begin to disappear, I will be celebrating with a different classic, The Shining.  My orange cardigan, spider web earrings and ghost finger puppets will accompany me, as that is all my closet had to offer.

I thank Linus, and perhaps some good God, for the sacrificial pumpkins of the year so that I could be as prepared as one possibly can be the night before Halloween.