Halloween Happenstance

by Robert Symes

Chapter 1

This story is set in an unidentified English town, mostly now. The cultural references are English so I hope that references to cars, TV shows or music won't spoil the story for those who don't know them. Follow the links provided for more information or just ignore them. (And yes, I know you can use a search engine just as well as I can. The links are for convenience, not to insult anyone.)

The sci-fi/supernatural elements and the criminality are there to make the story work (I hope!) and don't necessarily reflect my own opinions or experience. There is, so far as I can discover, no such place as Appleyard.

It is this author's policy to have no opinions about anything, or at least not to state them. Any opinions you see on these pages are those of the characters or the site owner respectively and I neither endorse nor oppose them.

A New Companion

Carl Fox had been brought up by his grandmother after his mother who, by all accounts, was 'no better than she should be' was killed when the boy driving the motorbike she was a passenger on decided to show off that by getting the line just right he could negotiate a roundabout at 90 mph. He might have done, if not for the truck.

Carl didn't miss her, he'd been less than a year old back then and had no memories. His father, so his mother had said, was "most likely that USAF guy, Johnny something, don't know which base he's at." A pity she couldn't have been more specific, that wouldn't get him dual nationality. Not that he wanted it just now, but the option would have been nice. He'd grown up with just Gran, and taken it for granted. Granddad had "buggered off with that scrubber," as Gran put it, many years before. And Uncle Mark visited when he could but had a full time job and a family 200 miles away. So it was usually just the two of them.

And now Gran was in the hospice dying from lung cancer in her sixties, a victim of the 'ciggies' she had always loved. Carl was glad he never started, but was soon to be alone in the world at age seventeen, far too young.

Friday October 31^st 2025. Halloween. There was a big party at the pub later. Gran would have loved it. Carl had more or less decided not to bother. It wouldn't be the same without her and the mood he was in after visiting her after sixth form (16-18) college he'd probably end up picking a fight with some drunken idiot. The pub wouldn't serve him anyway and he knew a shop that would so had stopped there on the way home. Eight cans of strong lager should make the world go away.

He unlocked the 'front door' which was actually in the side wall of the house, as was the 'back door' fifteen feet further down the driveway. Behind the houses the shared driveway widened and led to their garage, where Gran's car languished unused as Carl hadn't yet passed his test, and next door's.

Carl shut the door and put his beer down on the hall table. He wouldn't start on it yet. First he'd get changed and sort out some food. He was about to go upstairs when he heard noise from the kitchen, the radio was playing but he was sure he hadn't left it on. He walked through the dining room and opened the door to the kitchen. A boy his own age was looking in the fridge and looked up as the door opened. For a second it was like looking in a mirror, or at the twin he didn't have. Then he realised the intruder was around three inches shorter than him at about 5'8" and a bit stockier but by some coincidence had the same unusual combination of dark, almost black, hair and piercing dark blue eyes. The two boys looked at each other then said in unison "Who the hell are you?"

Carl stepped into the kitchen, intent on throwing this intruder out. As he did so he felt a weird disoriented feeling and his vision and hearing blurred. Suddenly the tired old kitchen units looked different somehow, and he noticed the radio was playing Glen Campbell's ' Rhinestone Cowboy ' not anything from this century for some reason.

"Look" said the intruder, "whoever you are just check in the street if there's any cops about for me will you?"

"While you turn the place over I suppose" said Carl belligerently. "I don't think so!"

"Use your head mate. A burglar with a key" – he walked to the back door and unlocked it – "making a sandwich and a cup of tea? Didn't Susan tell you about me? Just check for me okay?"

Susan was his Gran's name. Confused, Carl found himself obeying. The boy was nervous and on edge but way too confident to be a criminal caught red handed. And he was right, burglars don't usually stop for a snack.

In the street a beautifully restored 1973 Austin Maxi was parked outside Mr Phillips' house. "What a lovely old car" Carl said aloud.

"Are you trying to be funny?" asked the stranger coming out of Mr Phillips' house. "Just because it's not brand new..."

"No, of course not" said Carl. "I just thought Mr Phillips might have bought it."

"Well he didn't" said the man. "No Phillips round here. Piss off and be weird somewhere else." He got in the car and drove off, so annoyed that he forgot to fasten his seatbelt.

Something was weird alright, thought Carl. Many of the houses seemed to have metal window frames not the familiar white plastic and there wasn't a satellite dish to be seen. There weren't many cars about but the few there were hailed from the sixties and seventies. A few cars drove up the road while he stood there, all classic cars, many of the occupants smoking cigarettes and only one lady passenger strapped in. Weird. They must be making a TV show or something but he couldn't see any cameras or crew. No cops anyway.

Carl went back into the house through the kitchen door. "No sign of any cops or anything out there" he reported. "But they must be making a film or something. It looks like the 1970s out there."

The other boy gave him a strange look. "Well, what were you expecting? The year 2000?"

"No, just normal life" replied Carl. "Now, who are you? And turn that radio off, it's getting on my nerves." When he'd come back in it was Roxy Music's 'Love is the Drug' now Abba were screeching SOS . Had the boy tuned it to Oldies FM or something?

"Sieg Heil" muttered the boy, turning it off. "My name is Tom Bolton and I live here. You must be Paul, right? Susan said you were taking her out for Halloween. I suppose she's upstairs getting ready is she?"

Carl stared at him. Bolton had been Gran's maiden name before she married. "My name is Carl Fox as I'm sure you know. I live here with my Gran, Susan Fox nee Bolton. The only Tom Bolton I ever heard of is Gran's brother and he vanished in 1975 on Halloween after the police caught him soliciting in a public toilet. Is this some kind of joke? Because with Gran in hospital I'm really not in the mood."

Tom stared back at him with equal amazement. "What the hell are you talking about? Today is Halloween 1975 and I'm still here. And my fifteen year old sister does not have grandchildren. And how the fuck do you know about that? Have the police already been here?"

WTF thought Carl. Was this some loony, newly escaped from the bin, who somehow knew his family history? He grabbed Tom's arm. "Come with me." He dragged Tom into the dining room, again feeling that weird sensation as he passed through the door, on across the hallway into the living room. As Tom looked around the room looking stunned he picked up the TV guide and showed Tom the cover. "Look! TV Choice 25 ^th to 31 ^st October 2025. Now do you want to tell me what's going on?"

"I'll show you!" said Tom. "You come with me." He dragged Carl back into the kitchen, triggering the weird sensation yet again, and grabbed a tabloid newspaper from the kitchen table. "The Sun. Friday 31^st October 1975."

"Jesus Christ, I don't believe it!" exclaimed Carl.

"Neither do I but it seems to be true" said Tom. "Now what?"

"I need a drink" said Carl. "You want one? Let's go in the other room. There's no cops looking for you there. Or should I say then?"

They went back to the living room. Carl passed Tom a can and opened one himself. Tom looked around, swigged some beer then said "I need some stuff from my room. But my room's not there anymore is it?"

"And I need to get in the kitchen and sort out some food" replied Carl. He thought for a moment. "Ah, got it. First we'll wedge that kitchen door open just to be safe. Then you go out the back door, back in the front and your room should be there. I'll go out the front door and in the back and my kitchen should be there. It's worth a try anyway. If we meet on the drive we'll know it didn't work. If it does, go back the same way. Don't go through the dining room and I won't either, God knows what that might do."

It did work and five minutes later they were back in the living room, Tom carrying a bulging rucksack. He had retrieved his jacket and now took a packet of cigarettes from the pocket and offered Carl one. "I don't, thanks" said Carl. "But you go ahead, the smell will remind me of Gran. I mean Susan." He coughed at the sulphur smell as Tom lit up using a Swan Vesta match not a lighter. He asked to see the packet. "Wow, that looks strange" he commented. "No health warnings."

"Yes there is" said Tom. "Look on the side of the packet. 'Warning by H.M. Government – Smoking can harm your health.'"

"Here's what they look like now." Carl passed Tom an empty packet. "Careful, I need that." As Tom looked in amazement at the drab olive colour, the nasty picture, the big black warnings, Carl opened another packet just the same but all the writing was foreign. "These are much cheaper if you know where to buy them but it's safer to put them in an English packet where Gran is. I'll take them in for her tomorrow. By the way, what's with the rucksack?"

"I'm getting out. There's nothing for me here except a prison sentence. If it's okay with you I'll wait here until three or four o'clock when it's dead quiet and the busies have stopped looking. Then I'll head for the station and catch the first train out. Mum and Dad will be glad I've gone and I'll get in touch with Susan when I'm settled."

"But you never did" said Carl. "And she never stopped hoping one day you might. Perhaps something will happen to you if you try that. Why else would you leave her hanging?"

"I don't know, but something will happen to me if I stay here. The cops will put me away if Dad don't kill me first. So I have to chance it."

They sat in silence while Tom smoked and Carl transferred the contents from two illegal smuggled packets of cigarettes into legal English packets. At about a quarter to six they heard a muffled female voice coming from the kitchen but sounding like it came through a door. "Tom, are you in here? What have you..." The voice was cut off as the door from the dining room to the kitchen slammed violently, sending the chair wedging it flying across the room.

"Oh shit!" Carl jumped up and ran to the door and opened it. The Sun newspaper was gone. The freezer was back and the oven was warming up where he'd set it. Just to be sure, he went out to the garage to see Gran's car.

"What the hell is that?" asked Tom, who had followed, incredulously. "I've never seen one before."

"We have a problem" said Carl. "That, my friend, is a Nissan Micra . 2014 model to be exact. Which means we're still in 2025. And so is the kitchen. So I can't see a way back for you. I'm guessing here but I think Susan came home back then and opened the kitchen door looking for you. The same doorway can't lead to two different realities, it's a contradiction. So the door to this reality slammed and I don't know how to reopen it. That's what I think anyway."

He looked at Tom's dismayed face. "But don't despair. If we can work out what caused it the first time maybe we can repeat it. I'll go online and... Never mind, I can research it and see what I can find." Privately he wasn't optimistic.

"It's not that" said Tom. "I may be better off staying here now than running away back then. But I hate the thought of Sue never knowing what happened to me. If I never got in touch this must be why; nothing else would stop me."

"Let's go back in. You can watch some 70s telly off one of Gran's DVDs while I sort us out some tea, you never did get your sandwich. Faggots and chips okay for you?" [For anyone who may not know, in Britain faggots are a sort of oversize meatball, nothing to do with sexuality. Chips are like French fries, only thicker.]

"Perfect" agreed Tom. "I'm bloody starving, haven't eaten in fifty years! But what's a DVD?"

"It's like a record, but smaller and it has TV programmes or films on it. Have a look through those and choose one while I get the tea on." Carl went into the kitchen and put a pack of faggots in the oven.

When he got back Tom was looking at a DVD. "There's some good stuff here and some I never heard of but what's this one? ' Queer as Folk'" he read. "'Three men living it large in Manchester's gay village.'"

"I forgot that was there. It's mine not Gran's. And it's not from the seventies."

"I don't care" insisted Tom. "I want to watch it. Please?" So Carl put it on, opened two more beers and settled down to watch it with him. Tom choked on his cigarette when Vince casually commented that 'sometimes you get a shit Thursday' and Carl smiled at the thought that if that shocked him he was in for some real surprises in the next half hour.

Ten minutes in Carl's phone rang. He looked at the screen and got up to take the call out in the hallway. "It's Sister Kathleen from St Anne's [the hospice] here" said the caller. "Something happened with your grandmother and we don't really know what. She was dozing in the TV lounge but about fifteen minutes ago she screamed and started shouting 'Tom's back, Tom's back. I always hoped I'd see him again before the end. I have to see him. Get him here!' She was quite hysterical and we've had to sedate her so there's no point you coming back tonight but do you know who Tom was? It might help us to know."

There seemed no end to today's mysteries Carl reflected. He thought for a moment then said "I don't know how she could possibly know that but she's right. Tom is back. Look, sorry, I don't mean to be all 'cloak and dagger' but some secrets aren't mine to tell. Can I call you back in half an hour after I've spoken to him?"

"No, I'll be doing my rounds then. Call me after 7:30 but before eight, I finish then. I hope you can shed some light. These hallucinations are usually not a good sign."

Carl returned to the living room and watched the end of the episode then stopped the player. Tom looked absolutely stunned. "They show that on telly now?" he asked.

"They showed that before I was born. I'll show you ' What it feels like for a girl' sometime, it makes that look tame. I don't think it's on DVD yet but we can watch it on iPlayer. Don't ask. But I need to talk to you. Come in the kitchen and we'll talk while I do the tea."

As Carl continued with cooking their meal he faced the difficult task of explaining to Tom that the person he thought of as his little sister who he'd seen 'this morning' from his perspective was dying of cancer, had been missing him for fifty years, knew he was 'back' and wanted to see him. "Sorry to spring this on you like this but I need an answer before half past seven for the nurse. If you agree I think we tell the hospice you're my cousin and we'd lost contact, they'll never believe the truth."

"If I agree? I'd crawl over broken glass! Letting Sue down is what I hate most about all this and I'll do whatever I can. We'll go in the morning, 'cousin.'"

They finished their meal by 7:30 and Carl took his phone out, called the hospice, put the phone on speaker and put it on the table. He told Sister Kathleen to leave a message to tell Gran as soon as she woke that Tom would come to see her in the morning. "He's my cousin but we lost touch with his family after a row and I couldn't contact him about Gran. He turned up here today out of the blue for another reason that he doesn't want known. But don't tell Gran all that, just say Tom will see her at 10:30 visiting time."

Carl spent most of the evening telling Tom everything he knew about Gran's life until about ten when Tom said "And what would you like to do tonight? As if I didn't know."

"What does that mean? 'As if I didn't know'?"

"I'm a professional, Carl. I know when someone wants me, even if they're trying to hide it. You've been eyeing me up all night."

"You're pretty fucking sure of yourself, aren't you?" retorted Carl angrily. "Want me for a client do you?" But Tom was right; Carl struggled to keep his eyes off Tom, he was annoyed and embarrassed that he'd noticed.

"Yeah, I am sure of myself" replied Tom. He lit up another cigarette and the smell was a bittersweet reminder of who should be sat there causing it, and never would be again. "But you didn't tell me I'm wrong, did you? And no, I don't want you for a client. I go with sleazy old men for money. I love on sexy boys for joy. And really, do you know how scary this is for me? Everyone I ever knew is old or dead now and I can't get back. And it wouldn't be safe if I could. I lay on the bravado but the truth is I'm lonely and frightened and I don't know how I'll survive. Or even if. I just want someone to hold me and be with me."

"Then finish your smoke while I tidy up and then we'll go upstairs. Sorry but I don't want you smoking in my bedroom, you'll have to come down here for that."

Five minutes later they went upstairs. Carl opened a drawer and took out some lube and a pack of condoms "in case we need them, not presuming anything."

"Condoms? Really?" laughed Tom. "I don't know what they taught you in Sex Education but you needn't worry. You won't get me pregnant."

"No, but I might give you HIV. Sorry, you don't know what that is do you? Well think of it like the clap, only worse and it's killed a lot of people. And what they taught us is it doesn't matter if you like girls or boys but you must be sure they consent and you need to be safe. That's just how it is now. Always safe sex until you're in a monogamous relationship and you've both been tested. There's PREP I suppose but they'd never give me that.

"And I promised Gran. She found out about me two years ago by walking in here when I thought she was at work and she thought I was at school. Turns out she changed her hours. She found me in bed with Matthew and all she said was 'You love who you love and there's no changing that but please be careful and always play safe. I've lost too many people already.' Somehow I can't let her down."

"This world is so different I'm going to need an instruction manual" Tom complained. "But that sounds like Sue alright. Always kind. When my old man found me with a boy he marched him home, told his parents what he'd seen, then came back here and proper battered me. But who's this Matthew?"

"Nobody. Not any more" said Carl sadly. "He was special but then his parents moved away and I don't see him. We phone and... well, we communicate, but it's not the same."

"Perhaps I can be a substitute Matthew tonight" suggested Tom.

"No, you can't" snapped Carl. "You're not working now... Sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I meant I don't want a fake Matthew, pretending to be someone you've never met. I'd much rather have a real Tom, being himself. You're really not much like him anyway. But after the day I've had if you're up for it I'd love to blow off some steam. But only if you want to, don't feel under pressure."

"Too late for that" quipped Tom, grabbing Carl's hand and placing it on his groin to feel his erection. "I'm already under pressure and after the day I've had I just want someone to hold me and want me and if you want to blow your 'steam' up me then great, it's just what I need. But I want to be on my back so I can watch your face. I never do it that way with punters; seeing their fat ugly faces while they use me is the last thing I want."

"How can that work? Surely I need to be behind you?"

"Don't you know? You watched that 'Queer As Folk' didn't you? Well, you'll see. Now here's something else the punters don't get." He put a hand behind Carl's head and kissed him passionately. After a minute or two of that he broke it off. "Ready then?"

Tom casually started to strip, as if there were nothing to it, and gestured Carl to do the same. Carl was much more bashful. He hadn't done anything like this before with anyone but Matthew, and he'd known Matt for years before it became intimate. But he forced himself; he couldn't do this with his clothes on, after all. As they stripped he admired Tom's stocky, well muscled body and hoped his own skinny frame wouldn't be too much of a disappointment. Then Tom lay on his back on the bed, naked and erect, grinned up at Carl and asked "Got any Vaseline then?"

Carl tossed him the lube. "This is better." He ripped open a condom packet and put it on as Tom applied the lube to himself, then approached the bed and stood there as Tom spread more lube over the outside of the condom.

Tom spread his legs wide. "Lie on top of me and get between my legs. You'll find you can get there easily enough. Love me Carl." Carl was about to comment that it was a bit soon to talk of love when Tom added "Please. I really need this now" and he thought better of it. He lay on top and approached his target. Tom's fingers guided him home.

The warmth and tightness were just as he remembered from being with Matthew but face to face like this was much more intimate somehow. It didn't take long before Tom was crying out "Oh... Yes... That really does it... Keep going... Harder!" Carl slammed into him, as hard and fast as he could, working off the stress and frustrations of the day. It wasn't too long before he made one last thrust, stopped and felt himself filling the condom. He glanced down and saw the white slime all over Tom's chest and stomach; he had come first, without even touching himself. Now he was blinking back tears.

Carl got some tissues and set about cleaning them both up. "Are you okay? You look like you're trying not to cry."

"Thank you!" said Tom emphatically. He clearly meant more than just the tissues. "I really needed that. It's been one hell of a day. Now I think I really need a bath. Would that be okay?"

"I don't think there's any hot water. And a shower's much quicker. Will that do?"

"I don't fancy a cold one. I'll just have a wash I think."

"No, it's instant electric. I'll show you." He led Tom into the bathroom, where the shower was over the tub. He got a towel from the cupboard. "The shower's set how I like it. Turn that to change the temperature. Press that button to start and stop it. It's a bit cramped for two, unfortunately, so I'll have mine after." He left Tom to his own devices.

Carl donned a dressing gown, tidied the bedroom and took the rubbish out to the bin. He checked the doors and windows were locked and went back upstairs. He heard sobbing coming from the bathroom but didn't know how to give comfort, and Tom clearly wanted to keep it private, so he ignored it and waited in the bedroom.

Shortly after Tom appeared wrapped in the towel. "It's all yours. I'm going down for a smoke." After Carl's shower he went downstairs, they finished the beer and then slept together in Carl's single bed, cramped but comforting.

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