The Halloween Tree

Plead for the Souls of the Dead!"

Far away, these strange men by their bright fire lifted metal knives, lifted cats and goats in their hands, chanting:

"We pray for the souls of those

Who are turned to Beasts.

O God of the Dead, we sacrifice

These beasts

So that you will let free

The souls of our loved ones

Who died this year!"

The knives flashed.

Samhain smiled an even greater smile. The animals shrieked.

All around the boys on the earth, the grass, the rocks, the trapped souls, lost in spiders, locked in roaches, put away in fleas and pillbugs and centipedes, gaped and yammered silent yammers and twitched and roiled.

Tom winced. He thought he heard a million small, oh very microscopic, bleats of pain and release from around him where the centipedes capered, spiders danced.

"Let free! Let be!" prayed the druids on the hill.

The fire blazed.

A sea wind roared over the meadows, brushed the rocks, touched at the spiders, rolled the pillbugs, tumbled the roaches. The tiny spiders, insects, the miniature dogs and cows fluffed away like a million snowflakes. The tiny souls trapped in insect bodies dissolved.

Released, with a vast cavern whisper, they whistled up the sky.

"To Heaven!" cried the druid priests. "O free! Go!"

They flew. They vanished in the air with a great sigh of thanks and much gratitude.

Samhain, God of the Dead, shrugged, and let them go. Then, just as suddenly, he stiffened.

As did the hidden boys and Mr. Moundshroud, crouched in the rocks.

Through a valley and across the hill ran an army of Roman soldiers, a troop on the double. Their leader ran before them, shouting: "Soldiers of Rome! Destroy the pagans! Destroy the unholy religion! Seutonius so orders!"

"For Seutonius!"

Samhain, in the sky, raised his scythe, too late!

The soldiers slammed swords and axes into the bases of the holy druid oaks.

Samhain shrieked in pain as if the axes had chopped his knees. The holy trees groaned, whistled, and, with a final chop, thundered to earth.

Samhain trembled in the high air.

The druid priests, fleeing, stopped and shuddered.

Trees fell.

The priests, chopped at the ankles, the knees, fell. They were blown over like oaks in a hurricane.