All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

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Lilly
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All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by Lilly »

This is my entry for the Moonlight Gala Fanfic Contest.

This is a bit of a departure for me. I've done Mick's POV before but never quite like this. I hope it works.

Disclaimer: I do not own Moonlight - or its characters. Every once in a while one of them speaks to me and I try to take dictation, but no disrespect or copyright infringement is ever intended.

Rating: PG-13

First published: 11/2/2008



All Hallows’ Fright



You’re not gonna believe what happened to me tonight. It’s Halloween – and I’ve never been so scared in my whole life. Yeah, I know, you’re thinkin’ - Hey, Mickey – you’re almost ten – you shouldn’t be scared of ghosts and stuff. But, it wasn’t the ghosts or the goblins or anything like that – I thought I was gonna get killed. For real.

You know me. I’m not a scaredy cat and I don’t run away – usually. But I’m lucky I got outta there without gettin’ my head busted up. Or worse.


I guess I better start at the beginning. Well, not the beginning of the day, but the beginning of the trouble. It’s not that I was looking for it – it’s just things didn’t go like I planned. We just wanted to have a little fun – Ray, Jack and me.

We had finished begging around the neighborhood. Not all the kids were wearing costumes - that’s kind of a new thing - but the three of us dressed up, kind of, and between us we got some pretty nifty treats in our sacks. Jack made a pretty good fake Dracula and Ray was a ghost. They weren’t too keen on my pick, I guess. They said Babe Ruth wasn’t scary enough for a Halloween costume. I didn’t care if I was scary or not. The Yankees just won the Series in straight games and the Babe even called a go-ahead homerun shot into centerfield in the third one. Anyway, I don’t know about most people, but I bet Charlie Root thinks The Babe is a little scary right about now.

We poured everything out on Ray’s front porch to tally up our loot – lotsa candy, a couple of apples, some pennies, nickels and even a shiny new quarter from Mrs. McEnerny. It was getting pretty late, though, what with Halloween being on a Monday this year, so I told the guys I had to go. They gave me a good ribbing, but I knew I better get home.

Wasn’t even twenty minutes later, I had kissed my mom, thanked her again for the great Babe Ruth costume and headed up to my room to get ready for bed. As I was unbuttoning the shirt of my uniform, I heard that “ping” sound of a pebble on my window like when one of the guys wants to get my attention from outside. I wasn’t really undressed yet, so I pulled up the window and stuck my head out.

“Mick!” Ray whispered, “C’mon back out.”

“It’s too late,” I answered, “My folks won’t let me.”

“Then sneak out.” Jack suggested. He was helpful like that. “I got an idea. We’re gonna have some laughs.”

So instead of slamming that window down like I should’ve, I listened to Jack Flanagan. Now Jack was so smooth, he could probably talk Sister Mary Gregory into eating corned beef on Friday. So a kid like me didn’t stand a chance.

Anyway, the old tradition, like my grandpa tells stories about, was that you’re supposed to scare away the wandering spirits. The thing is – Jack wanted to scare the MacKenzie twins instead. He said it would be way more fun. All we needed was a couple of bed sheets, he said. We could put them on some long sticks tied together to make it look like arms and wave ‘em around outside the girls’ window making ghost noises and sounding all spooky. After all, those chicken girls ran out of the movie theatre screaming last year right in the middle of Frankenstein. It wasn’t going to be hard to get ‘em good.

Since Ray already had a sheet from his ghost costume and they had snatched another one from some clothesline somewhere, he and Jack decided to fetch some long branches from the dead trees over by the vacant lot on Lincoln. I was supposed to sneak out of my house and meet them there. The two of them took off through my backyard and I buttoned my shirt back up, grabbed my Louisville Slugger – because ole Number 3 doesn’t go anywhere without his bat - and tiptoed out of my room. It was pretty late. Most kids had gone in and were already brushing their teeth, or getting into bed. I knew I should be doin’ that too, but, heck, Halloween only comes once a year. I figured one late night wasn’t gonna kill me. I hoped my parents wouldn’t either.

I took the stairs one at a time, holding my breath the whole way. I was even real careful to step over the squeaky one three up from the bottom. Once I made it all the way down, I stopped and listened. I could hear the radio in the front room. Sounded like Mom and Dad and Grandpa were listening to that new Fred Allen show. Good. They’d never know I was gone. As I inched my way to the back of the house, I couldn’t tell what was louder the old grandfather clock ticking away in the hall or my own heart thumping in my chest. By the time I pulled the kitchen door closed behind me, I knew there was no going back. Great, I thought to myself, just what you need, Mickey - one more thing to add to your list for confession on Saturday. I don’t know, but I’m pretty sure sneaking out is like lying even if you don’t actually say anything out loud.

The neighborhood was pretty quiet except for a passing car every now and then a couple of blocks over. The sky was real dark too – no full moon like there was last year. Tonight, it was only a couple of days past the new moon and all I could make out was a little sliver of cheese, as Grandpa likes to call it.

I guess maybe some kids would’ve been a little nervous walking all alone in the dark like that. But not me. I don’t believe in monsters. But pretending to be one to scare some silly girls? That’s a different story.

When I was about half a block away from the empty lot, I could hear somebody yelling, but with not much of a moon and the street lamp half a block away in the other direction, it was hard to see what was going on.

“What d’ya freaks think you’re doin’ on my turf?”

I knew that voice. It belonged to a real tough jerk – neighborhood bully didn’t begin to cover it. It looked like Jake Stanco and his crew had decided to give Jack and Ray a hard time. It’s wasn’t until I came up under the edge of the trees that I saw just how hard it was gonna be. Two big guys had Jack. One was holding his arms behind his back while the other looked through his Halloween sack, helping himself to everything inside. “This all ya got, potato head?” one of them said. That was bad enough, but what I saw next really flipped me.

There was Ray, his sheet wrapped around his chest a couple of times and pulled up under his armpits. He was hoisted up into the oak tree by the ends. And there was Jake lying right out on that bottom branch tying it off to keep Ray hanging there. “I think you’re holding out on us, Fordham,” Jake snarled. “Don’tcha got any more money than that?”

Jake’s brother Tommy had a long stick and was whacking at Ray - like one of those things Joey Menendez had at his sixth birthday party - maybe hoping something good would fall out onto the ground. Ray was struggling pretty good, kicking at Tommy and all, but it was no use. They had him.

Now if I learned anything in ten years, it’s that you don’t mess with the Stanco brothers. And tonight they had two goony friends standing nearby to remind me, just in case I forgot. So, I was hiding there out of sight, thinking about my options and watching Ray swaying from the tree like a colorful paper donkey. He was starting to cough and wheeze a little and I thought maybe he was having a hard time breathing like that. If I ran for help he might get hurt pretty bad before I got back. You just don’t leave a buddy in trouble – no matter what. Sometimes, you just gotta do what’s right.

Before I could think better of it, I heard a voice yelling, “Hey Stink-o – let ‘im go!” Funny thing was - that voice sounded just like mine.

Well, I guess I kinda surprised Jake and he let the sheet slip right out of his hands. Ray fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes and twice as hard. While Jake was climbing down outta the tree and Tommy was still hitting Ray with the stick, the other two guys snapped their heads around in my direction. Jack saw his chance and wrestled himself free. He took off and never looked back. The thing you gotta know about Jack Flanagan is that Jack’s best friend is himself. I knew he was gonna run straight home, jump into bed and pretend he was never out at all tonight. Like it or not, Ray and I were on our own.

It was about then that I realized I still had my Louisville Slugger in my hands and even though I didn’t know if I could actually hit anyone with it, I figured maybe it would give me some leverage. Meanwhile, Ray was rolling around and tripping all over himself trying to get untangled from the bed sheet, so I decided to buy him a little time.

“What’s the matter, Elroy – you too ugly to get any treats on your own?” Well, that got his attention alright. Nobody – I mean nobody – ever called Jake by his given name.

“What’d you say?” he growled at me. He stepped right over Ray and motioned for his brother to follow him.

I was backing up one step at a time, leading them away from Ray and holding my bat in front of me with two hands hoping to make ‘em think I might actually use it. I guess I was so busy watching the Stancos closing the gap, I never noticed one of the other goons moving ‘round behind me. When I took my next step back and bumped into somethin’ that wasn’t there before – that’s when I found out. Next thing I knew, all four of them were standing around me and closing in.

Ray had worked himself free by then. He made a move like he was gonna come help me out, but I could see his arm was hurt pretty bad from falling like that. I just jerked my head to one side signaling him to take off. He got a pretty good head start before one of Jake’s thugs took off after him.

So I now had the two Stanco brothers in front of me and the other goon behind me. But I still had my bat and that evened the score, at least a little. Or so I thought until Jake knocked it out of my hands.

Jake Stanco isn’t the biggest 16-year-old I ever met, but he is the meanest. I don’t know why – some things you just can’t figure out – but he’s got a chip on his shoulder the size of a Packard. And those scrawny shoulders aren’t all that big anyway. He’s mostly arms and legs and kinda skinny and uncoordinated, like an under-stuffed scarecrow. Come to think of it, he dresses like one too – clothes all messy and way too big like he got ‘em from somebody who was done with them. But I’m telling you, that’s one scarecrow that packs a real solid punch.

His “little” brother Tommy is almost as tall as him and about twice as wide. Looking at those little, beady eyes squinting at me from the middle of that round red freckly face made me think all of a sudden of the big ole jack-o-lantern trying too hard to be scary in Mrs. McGeary’s front window. I tried real hard not to laugh, but I think something snuck out anyway.

“You think sumpin’s funny, St. John?” Jake growled at me.

I told him I didn’t and seeing the fix I was in, bein’ surrounded and all, it wasn’t that far from the truth. But I don’t think it woulda mattered what I said. They were gonna pound me anyway – just ‘cuz they could.

“Let’s see whatcha got, freak,” Jake sneered. “Empty your pockets.”

All of a sudden I was wishing I didn’t beg Mom to sew pockets into the knickers of my uniform. That way I wouldn’t have been carrying my best stuff with me on Halloween night. I shoved my hand into my right pocket and pulled out a whole mess of junk - a couple of marbles, a few baseball cards, and all the coins I got begging earlier. I was hoping maybe the forty-seven cents might be enough to keep him happy. Right.

Jake narrowed his eyes at me. “Whad’ya got in the other pocket?”

“Nothin’” I lied. Only my biggest treasures in the whole world.

“Prove it.”

I didn’t budge.

So, Tommy wrapped his big sweaty arm around my chest from behind to keep me from moving and Jake reached into my pocket and pulled out two things.

“Well, damn, St. John, this sure is a whole lotta nothin’.”

First he held up my lucky silver dollar - the one from 1922. Grandpa got it the year I was born and he was saving it all this time for my tenth birthday. But he got so excited, he couldn’t wait anymore. He gave it to me a whole month early. It’s still shiny and awful pretty, with the new lady Liberty on it. Too bad they stopped making ‘em in ’28. I knew I shouldn’t be carrying it around, but Grandpa said it was good luck and I was real proud of it.

The other thing I had in my pocket was my Babe Ruth first year card from when he played for the Baltimore News. I found it in a box of old baseball cards I traded for a couple of years ago. The edges are kind of worn, but it still looks pretty good for being twice as old as me.

“Give ‘em back, Stink-o!” I pulled against Tommy’s arm, but it was no use. Just like asking for my stuff back wasn’t going to get me anywhere either.

Jake crammed my stuff into his pocket and Tommy pushed me towards the kid with no name. The kid pushed back. After the three of them got done shoving me back and forth between them like it was some new game at the arcade down at the Santa Monica Pleasure Pier, Jake decided it was time to teach me a real lesson. Yeah, like turning me into a human pinball and stealing my stuff wasn’t enough.

So, Tommy picked up my bat and swung it across the back of my knees. He didn’t connect hard enough to break anything, but the hit folded me in two and dropped me to the street. Next thing I knew, I could feel Jake’s big smelly shoe with the hole almost clear through the sole pressing into my left cheek and a whole lot of cold gravel and metallic-smelling dirt grinding into my right one and I thought to myself, This is not good.

I took a couple of hard kicks to the gut and once I was able to suck in some air again and I started thinking about more than losing my dinner all over Lincoln Street, I kinda realized this was heading way past “not good” and into “oh crap” territory. I couldn’t turn my head enough to see – because, well, it was kinda stuck there, but I just knew Pumpkin Head had that Louisville Slugger in his hands and was raising it up pretty high, just getting ready to swing it into some part of me I didn’t really want swung at.

Well, I thought, at least Ray got away. He wasn’t the faster runner I knew but maybe he would get help – with any luck sometime before I was bleeding too bad. I closed my eyes and clenched my teeth as hard as I could, bracing myself for some serious pain, so no one was more surprised than me when Tommy Stanco decided to take a little batting practice before he stepped up to the plate on me.

I don’t know why, but if you hit a rock just right it can go way farther than a baseball. And it was just my luck that’s exactly what Tommy did right as this big fancy car was turning at the intersection at the end of the street. I’d never seen that car around my neighborhood before. Heck – I’d never seen a car like that anywhere before. Maybe they were lost or somethin’, but right after I heard the crack and then the sound of something breaking, that car stopped real sudden with a kinda screeching sound. Then it backed up and waited right at the end of Lincoln. Next thing I know, these two big headlights are headed right for us – the four of us standing – and lying - right there in the middle of the street. And before I could blink, there were only three ‘cuz No-name took off running into the trees.

So, as the headlights got closer – and they were getting closer pretty quick – Jake grabbed me by the collar and yanked me up to my feet. He snatched the bat out of his brother’s hands and put it in mine and then they both kinda stepped behind me. Jake never let go of the back of my shirt, though, and I didn’t dare try anything because it was too late anyway. The headlights had stopped right in front of us.

The engine turned off and it got real quiet all of a sudden, except for ole Pumpkin Face huffing and puffing down the back of my neck like a winded St. Bernard. The door of the car swung open and this guy got out. He didn’t make a sound. I couldn’t really see anything but an outline of him because the headlights were still shining right in my eyes, but when he stepped in front of the lamps I could see he was dressed as fancy as his car. He was wearing this suit – not a going-to-church-on-Sunday suit - but one of those shiny black ones like they wear in the movies when they go to the ritzy parties. His hair was slicked back all perfect, not a single one out of place even though he’d been driving with the top down. As he moved toward us, he reminded me of James Cagney in “The Public Enemy.” You know, sort of a baby face, but real dangerous inside. I’m telling you, it wouldn’t have surprised me one bit if he pulled out a gun right there.

I thought for sure he was gonna be mad. Real mad. But he didn’t look mad. He didn’t look anything. He just stood there looking at me and I stood as tall as I could with Jake’s mitt holding on to me and I looked right back at him.

Now this was a pretty big guy, you know? Tall – maybe like Lou Gehrig. Not as big as the Babe. Hey, I’m a kid – what do I know? A lotta guys look tall to me. Anyway, he was way bigger than any of us and the Stanco brothers kinda got the idea that maybe they had a problem on their hands a little bigger than me.

So, while the two of them were looking back and forth at each other and making “uh” noises, this fancy stranger reached into his pocket, real slow, and pulled out a pocket watch. I didn’t think anyone besides old guys like my grandpa used those anymore. But, this man, he flipped it open looking at me the whole time and when he finally looked down at the watch, he said real softly, “So, kid - you know what night it is?”

“Uh – yessir. It’s Halloween,” I answered right back.

“True. But more importantly, it’s your lucky night...”

I wasn’t sure how he figured that, but I wasn’t in an arguing position right then so I just nodded.

“I’m feeling particularly - generous,” he went on. “So you have one minute to tell me exactly what’s going on here. And you can start with how this,” and he opened his left hand to show me a rock – the rock, “found its way into my lap by way of that hole where my imported Italian windshield used to be.”

“Holy shit,” I heard Jake mutter under his breath behind me and I knew the guy heard him too ‘cuz the corner of his mouth twitched a little like he was starting to enjoy it.

“S-sorry, mister. I guess that rock sorta got hit by...” I started explaining but stopped right away when Jake’s fingers dug into the back of my neck, “…uh, by this bat.”

Mr. Fancy Pants looked down at me and nodded toward my hands. “Is that yours?”

“Yeah. Yes, sir. But – it was an accident. Honest.” Well, that much was true. Tommy couldn’t make that shot again if his life depended on it. My left arm was starting to go all tingly from where Jake was holding me, so I decided I better hurry up and try to get us all out of the mess they got us into. “I guess maybe you wanna tell my parents and make them pay for what got broken?” I asked the man.

“I think gentlemen should cover their own debts,” he told me.

As he came closer, he got this look on his face like he was smelling somethin’. Now maybe one of the other guys pissed in his pants, but I swear it wasn’t me. Still, I was kind of embarrassed and I wiped one of my hands across my face. That’s when I realized I had all this dirt and stuff stuck on my cheek and my lip was bleeding. After I brushed it off as best I could, I wiped my hand on my pants.

So, the man in the way too serious suit clamped his hand down on my shoulder and pulled me away from the other two. Believe me, they didn’t put up a fight. He moved me over to the curb and just looked me over for a minute. Then he grabbed the bat from me, holding it right around the sweet spot like he’d never even had one in his hands before. Maybe rich guys don’t play baseball – don’t like to get dirty or somethin’. I don’t know.

Right about then, Jake just had to open his trap. “He’s a real trouble maker all right. Stealin’ things. Breakin’ stuff. We was gonna teach him a lesson he weren’t never gonna forget.”

“So – gentlemen,” the stranger turned slowly toward the Stancos, “you think the thing to do here is teach the guilty party a lesson?”

“Yessir. That’s what you should do alright.” Jake answered, kinda smug, like he knew a joke that no one else heard the punch line to.

The fancy guy was looking less amused all the time and let me tell you, in spite of that strange little smile, he didn’t look all that happy to start with. I was thinking that if I was ever gonna take off running, this would be a pretty good time to do it. But even though my brain was screaming “GO!” my feet were stuck in that spot like they stepped in fresh hot asphalt in July.

“Thing is,” the man added and then breathed in real deep, “I don’t think Number 3 here – is guilty.”

He flipped the bat around in his hand – and I swear I’m not making this up – with the just a push of his thumb, he snapped the thing in half like it was a pencil. Well, that got the Stancos’ attention but good and they started sputtering like ole man Wilson’s broken down Tin Lizzie.

“So,” he said moving closer to them, “how do you gentlemen propose to pay for your lapse in judgment?”

“We can’t pay, mister – we don’t got nothin’ to pay with…..”

Well, I’m not sure what happened next. Maybe he did pull a gun. I don’t know because his back was to me. But his head jerked up a little and his shoulders got real straight – not all relaxed like he was before. All I could see was the look on Jake and Tommy’s faces – like they were scared out of their wits. Jake was shaking like he really was made of straw and Tommy threw up his hands to cover his big pumpkin face. I think maybe he even started to cry. Jake was emptying his pockets as fast as he could, his eyes wide open staring at the guy all the while. The stranger motioned to Tommy to bring me my junk, all but two things. The important ones.

I could see the man’s right hand move like he was reaching into the breast pocket of his suit. Then he took the last two things from Jake. His voice was real rough and low when he finally spoke. “Don’t – ever – bother this kid or his friends again. Have I made my point?” And he leaned in a little closer just to make sure, I guess.

“Y-y-yes, s-s-sir.” They both were crying like babies now and they just shrunk away from him.

“Now beat it - before I decide I want something more!” He kinda growled and they took off running like they had seen a ghost - or worse.

When he spun back around to look at me, then was no gun, no nothing. I couldn’t figure it out.

“Gee, thanks for gettin’ my stuff back mister,” I managed.

“No sweat, kid.” He quirked his head. “You just have to know how to ask.” And as he said it, I noticed a sort of twinkle in his eye for the first time. “Now about these,” he added, holding out my baseball card and my silver dollar wrapped in his silk handkerchief.

“It seems to me that my car wouldn’t be missing a vital piece of glass if you hadn’t been out here looking for trouble when you were supposed to be home in bed. Hmm?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Neither one of these is going to cover the cost of the damage, but I’m guessing these two things are about as important to you as my car is to me. True?”

“Yes, sir.” My voice sounded a little shaky on that one because I figured I knew where he was going.

“So, you’re going to pick one of these items as payment for your debt. Your choice.”

Well, there it was. He wanted me to choose between my two treasures. I couldn’t think of anything harder. But he was right, I had a debt to pay, so I had to be a man and do what was right.

I swallowed hard. “You can take the rookie card.”

The guy looked real surprised. “Interesting choice. I’d bet this card is worth more than a dollar.”

He was right again. Mr. Miller down at the hardware store had offered me a buck fifty for it right after the World Series, but that wasn’t the point.

“My grandpa gave me that silver dollar – for good luck. It’s special.”

“Hmmm.” He shrugged. “I would’ve gone with the investment over the piece of metal, but it’s your choice, kid.” He flipped it back to me. Then he wrapped up my card – his card - and put it in his jacket pocket. He took a minute to brush off his lapels and tug on the cuffs of his sleeves. “We’re square, kid. Now get home - before the Halloween monsters get you.”

“I guess you already scared off the only monsters around here.” I told him.

“Don’t bet on it.” He said with a smirk. Then he raised his eyebrows a little, nodded his head and turned to go.

It was when the guy got back to the car, I heard her voice. The lady. I didn’t even know she was there all that time. “C’mon, Lover – we’re gonna be late.”

“I knew we should have stayed in,” the guy muttered as he brushed some broken glass off the dashboard and started the motor.

As they drove past, she wiggled her fingers at me and smiled. She looked almost like a movie star – or an angel. She had a white fur wrapped around her shoulders and she had white blonde hair – just a little curly – and big eyelashes like no lady I know really has. Her lips were cherry red – not like the cherries off the tree in our backyard, more like the cherries they put on the ice cream sundaes down at Jenkinson’s drug store. Maybe they were headed to some kind of masquerade party. I don’t know. I guess I’ll never know now.



Grandpa says in a couple of years All Hallows’ Eve will probably be pretty much forgotten – ‘cept maybe in Irish families. Everybody wants to blend in nowadays – old traditions like souling and begging are gonna die. Well, I’m not sure about that, but I can tell you one thing – tradition or not - some strange things can happen on a night like this. Doesn’t matter whether you believe in monsters or lost spirits. Anyone can make a wrong turn – or choice – and end up with one heck of a fright. And that’s somethin’ I’m never gonna forget.


_______
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by ari »

Very nice!! Now, who could that mysterious stranger be hmmm...?
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by allegrita »

Eeeee Lilly--This is great! I love 10-year-old Mick. So scrappy, such a true-blue friend, a chance-taker but he knows there are consequences to bad actions. And of course he cared more about the dollar than the card. What's stuff compared with sentiment?

Oh, this is really, really wonderful. And I just about laughed out loud at the "mysterious stranger" who came to the rescue...with -- could that be a certain starlet?! Hmmm...somebody has always liked Italian cars, I guess...

This is a delight!
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by cassysj »

Lilly, I've never read this before! It's wonderful. I can see the Mick we know in this boy. Mysterious stranger, hmmm I think that might be a man who sometimes has initials JK. It would be funny to see Mick and Josef in 2009 have a conversation about Halloween or Jean Harlow or baseball cards as investments and see if Mick ever figured it out.

Of course, all speculation on my part. ;)
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by eris »

Lilly,

I loved this when you first posted it, and I still love it now. The meticulousness (is that even a word :? ) with which you craft a story shows here - and makes this probably the single most unique Mick/Josef fic anywhere. Mick's ten year old voice is spot on perfect (as is his choice of what to give up and Josef's confusion at it.)

I do wonder what would happen if sometime down the road Mick discovered that baseball card somewhere in J's house - or if Josef recognized grandpa's coin.


And as for the lovely blonde... I couldn't resist. (I have never liked the ML explanation for film not working, so I choose to ignore it... somewhere in J's desk is a rumpled photo that proves me right ;) ) They look great together, don't'cha think?

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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by Lilly »

Thanks, ari -- sorry I missed your comment earlier.

Alle -- thank you so much! I really got attached to 10-year-old Mick -- once he started talking he wouldn't stop. I 'm so glad you enjoyed it.

Carol -- Thanks so much for your comment! I thought about the idea of pulling that baseball card into a follow-up. Who knows? It could happen. ;)

Eris -- Thank you! I LOVE the pics! :D I'm so glad that Mick's voice came through here -- even if it was less articulate and a lot rougher around the edges.
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by wollstonecraft61 »

Eris, that first picture, did you splice that one in photobucket or another software program? Just curious if that can be done in photobucket. I really like it. Would you mind if I snagged that for a banner? Please?
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by cassysj »

I was thinking of this story the other day actually in preparation for Halloween. This is one of my favorite stories and you capture young Mick so well here.

I would still like to see a followup some day where Mick finds out about the card.
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Re: All Hallow's Fright - ML Gala entry - Mick - PG13

Post by Lilly »

Thank you so much, Carol. :hug: I have a special fondness for this one myself. :blushing:
cassysj wrote:I would still like to see a followup some day where Mick finds out about the card.
Yeah, I'd like to see that too. :roll: I'm hoping one of these days one of them will tell me all about it...
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lynnrxgal
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by lynnrxgal »

Lilly: How did I miss this the first time around??? Just love it! Happy Halloween! And may I add my voice to the chorus of "more please?"
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francis
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by francis »

Lovely beyond words. You get Mick's voice of a 10 year old right, you get the family situation, the buddies, the bullies, and then the mysterious stranger feeling particularily generous. I can't even say how much this is great.
Perfect! :heart:
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Lilly
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by Lilly »

lynn -- Thank you so much! Happy Halloween to you too. :hug: I would love to write more from young Mick's point of view -- I'm just waiting for the right story to come along. :roll:

francis -- :hearts: You have no idea what that means to me.
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jen
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by jen »

This is entirely in my head but I think Josef/Charles was out with Jean Harlow--although we know that he mostly stayed in with Jean Harlow--around Halloween of 1932 or 33.

And met the child who would one day become his closest friend.

Interesting how personality traits and tendancies were present even that long ago.

This was wonderful!!!!

Thanks!

Jenna
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librarian_7
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by librarian_7 »

Ooh, this is one of my all-time favorite fics, and I'm so glad to see it bumped! Great writing, great plot, and spot on characterization. What's not to love?

Lucky
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Lilly
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Re: All Hallow's Fright -- Mick - PG13

Post by Lilly »

So glad you found this, jen. It's one of my favorites. :blushing: When I wrote it, I didn't think there'd be much doubt in anyone's mind who "Mr. Fancy Pants " was or who was with him. I tried to keep the hints as subtle as possible, though.

Lucky -- :smooch: Thank you.
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