8.
 The two elderly persons held each other and shook their heads.
"I'm Joe Walsh, Mrs. Meyer's cousin."
They stared at him. "Oh, no, that can't be," Marie said. She laughed, and her palsy kicked in as it always did, making her shake all over.
Bernie held her for support. "Nice prank, young man, but that's enough, okay?"
"No prank, Bernie. I've come on a quick errand, and I'll be on my way."
"We're outta candy," Bernie said harshly. Marie looked like a drowning person as she reached for the nearby high back of a plush chair to steady herself. Her hands were shaking violently.
"No really," Joe Walsh said firmly. He stepped into the doorway so Bernie couldn't slam the door. "She sent me to fetch her wishing pillow. It was the last one that didn't come back, and she finally figured out that little Marie Belcher must have it because you didn't show up for the last time she had the little neighborhood girls over for cake."
"Give him the pillow," Marie said.
"I'll give you a pillow or two," Bernie said as he cocked a fist.
Joe smiled the most winning smile on earth and raised his hands defensively. "Please, Bernie, you gotta do it. You see, I have no choice about coming here. And you have no choice about giving it to me."
"I see," Bernie said with a doubtful harrumph.
Marie suddenly seemed steady. "I'll get it for you," she said in a calm, strong voice. While it was Bernie's turn to clutch the old armchair, she walked to the coffee table, picked up the little pillow, and returned to the door. "It isn't mine, and I have no right to keep it. I just wish I hadn't missed that last chance for a wish and some cake." She handed Joe the pillow.
Joe backed away with a little wave goodbye. He gave the pillow a toss in the air, and then pocketed it as he turned away. Wearing his long brown coat and a very old-fashioned hat, he strode quickly away down the starlit driveway and vanished among the shadows under the bare tree limbs.
Bernie and Marie looked at each other. Each could have sworn they heard a last few words, in a laughing voice that echoed amid the hills and forests: "Don't worry, you'll get that wish if you just think of it—on the house. You can have your cake, too, because you've been extra good."
Laden with the burden of their years and deeds, like a heavy snowfall bending down pine boughs in the forest, the couple looked at each other in puzzlement. Insight began to dawn in Marie's excited gaze and flushed cheeks. They had known each other all their lives, and married at an early age, and raised four children who had each in his or her own way become successful in life. Now they had six grandchildren, with another on the way, and on some days it was a fun chore just to sit in rocking chairs looking at each other, and counting the grandchildren by name and number on trembling fingers. "Remember how we used to hold hands and run together when we were small, from house to house, knocking on doors and yelling Trick or Treat?" Bernie wasn't following her train of thought quite yet. And Marie suddenly, briefly, looked scared and unsure of the mighty thought she was having.
"Now that was quite a prank," Bernie said as he closed the door.
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Copyright © 2018 by Jean-Thomas Cullen, Clocktower Books. All Rights Reserved.
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