That Halloween, people mistook Transom, only five feet tall, with delicate bones and quick movements, as much younger than his sixty years. Which is what he intended. Sixty he was, and he had learned how to manage. His found treasures included an abandoned television with a dim, fuzzy picture, and a discarded mattress smelling just a little from urine and mold. Tossed foods made his meals. He wore no clothes new, not even the shoes that flopped loosely on his feet. Every day, he took his oversized baby buggy on a tour through the neighborhood. He scoured for cans that he squashed down to flat circles with a small sledgehammer he carried. The hammer served a second purpose. Other scavengers, larger than he, thought nothing of stealing from him. They made a mistake to think the slight figure was weak, when in fact he had strength of purpose and had left more than one predator bleeding on the sidewalk. Last year Transom had found a childs costume that fit him well enough and even included a mask that hid his worn face. He put it to use now as he joined the youngsters roaming the streets on this Halloween. He simply hid the buggy, went from door to door to fill his sack, returned to the buggy, emptied the sack, moved to a new location, and started again. It was a good Halloween night. At least it was until he returned to find a tall figure examining his buggy. Thats mine. He stood as tall as he could. Do you know who I am? The voice was low, deep, and cold. I dont care who you are. I am Samhain, and this my night of nights. The being towered above Transom. Sam, that means nothing to me. Leave mine alone and Ill leave you alone. They are my children going door to door tonight. But you are none of mine. You dont belong among them. True enough. Transom sensed he needed a change of strategy. Youre desecrating my night. No, Im honoring you, Sam. Look into my bag. See what I have for you. The being feared nothing from this insignificant man. Samhains giant head slowly bent down to better examine the sacks contents. Who could blame Transom for taking out his hammer? He struck as hard as he could, which was very hard indeed. He expected blood, but not an explosion of pumpkin seeds and stringy membrane. The creature withered inside its clothes, now reeking from the saturation of wet, decaying pulp. Transom retrieved the shoes before they were tainted for he noticed that this large being had rather small feet. Transom removed his old shoes and found Samhains fit better, which seemed a good exchange to him. Transom pushed his buggy forward but hadnt gone far when he heard the voice. He quickly discarded the costume. Samhains final words were a promise and a curse: I will be back for you next Halloween.