Halloween 2007: Stranded in Salem

It’s weird to think that every other year of my life, I would look forward to Halloween festivals and trick-or-treating; I would plan my costume out and make sure I had someplace to go for the night. But the whole season sort of passed me up this year. I dressed up as a panda to save a dollar off the improv show last night (oh, the lengths to which I will go to save money!), but I never made any plans to go out today. Now, I know it looks like I must cross dress a lot, considering I borrowed huge black sweatpants from Matt and plaid clothes for spirit week from some other guys on the floor. But it’s totally not what it looks like.

I was in the lounge this morning, trying not to be upset by the fact that there were needles in the show everyone was watching or by the fact that the boys, including Homer Simpson (who I liked from back in the summer when we went on La Vida together, and who had nothing in common with the real Homer Simpson), were all commenting on how “hot” the girls were even before they got plastic surgery. I heard some of the guys talking about going into Salem. I had ruled out that option because my roommate said it was scary, but it would be fun if Homer was going (even if he was making stupid comments about the girls in the show), so I asked to join.

No one was really sure of their plans and it looked like I might not be able to get a ride to the train station. In the end I went with some kids I barely knew, but thankfully Homer and his roommate Jew, who also did La Vida with us, were there. The driver, Ryan, was dressed as a cow and drove more erratically than The Brit (a friend of mine from home who likes to zig zag between lanes even when sober). Fortunately, we made it to the station in one piece and loitered in the parking lot until the train arrived.

The conductor directed us to the back of the car because the kids in the rest of the car were out of control, but there wasn't enough space for our horde, so some of us, including me and Homer, took seats up front. In the end we were glad we did. It was like the Polar Express from hell. Most of the other kids were completely trashed. One of the girls sitting near me told me that several of our companions were planning on drinking when we got into town. Surely not Homer, I thought. I couldn't believe what I’d gotten myself into.

Then the train ahead of us got stuck and everyone started chanting, “Let us smoke! Let us smoke!” The conductor told them, “Absolutely not,” but after ten or fifteen minutes, someone lit one up anyway. Someone else hijacked the loudspeaker and taunted the rest of the passengers. On top of everything, my phone was missing. I specifically remembered feeling it in my pocket when we were in the car, so I hoped that it was in the back seat where I’d been sitting, not crushed in the parking lot or on the railroad tracks.

Finally, we pulled into Salem. The place was swarming with drunkards, cops, and evangelists that were telling everyone they were damned to hell. One of them tried to give me a pamphlet. I was offended, since I'm already saved, not to mention I clearly had some principles as I was dressed as a cute panda and not a prostitute, nor had I tasted a sip of booze all night. But obviously the fact that I had come into Salem at all tagged me as a Satanist.

The whole experience was like a hideous clash of the Vans Warped Tour with Anime Boston. And honestly, I would have preferred the punks and nerds of those festivals to these sleazeball-packed streets. The worst part was the fact that there was nothing to do. It was just a mob swarming, drinking and smoking. I guess there might have been some haunted houses, but we didn't go to any. A couple of girls and I needed to use the restroom, but the soup café we went to tried to charge us money to go pee, and there was a drunk guy who was like, “I’ll give you a dollar....” So we basically ran out of there, resolving to hold it until we got back to school.

Back out in the streets, some of my companions were passing around a bottle of Coke. I wasn't born yesterday; I knew what was really in it. I didn't expect to be offered any, and wasn't offended when I wasn't, but I was more fixated on whether Homer would partake. The bottle made its way around the circle, finally passing into his hands. With a horrible sinking sensation, I watched him take a swig. I had a good self-scolding session then. Why did you assume he was above all that? When will you learn that people aren't always what they seem? I told myself I wouldn't speak to him for the rest of the night, not so much to teach him a lesson as to wean myself off the crush I had on him.

Someone decided they had had enough standing around and we moved out. The crowd was so dense and I was so afraid of getting stranded without my cell phone that I clung to the sleeve of whoever happened to be nearest. At the time, it happened to be Homer. He put his arm around me to make sure that I didn't get separated from him, which made me way happier than I wanted it to. I wanted so badly to be angry with him for what I’d seen, but I found that I couldn't.

After a little bit, I wound up clinging to Jew's arm and we took a nice little trip down memory lane, talking about the time we had to carry a canoe 1.5 miles. Then some guy who passed us offered Jew a cigarette in exchange for a light-up. Not only was I dismayed that all these people I had assumed to be above the influence were, in fact, not, but also, I have a lot of trouble breathing when there’s cigarette smoke in the air. It makes me choke a little (or a lot, depending on the brand). So I was walking along, breathing through my sleeve and wondering why I had assumed that just because these kids were Christians, they were above worldly influences, when Jew noticed that I had my sleeve to my face and promptly put out his cigarette. Well at least he’s got manners.

Finally, to my immense relief, Homer said he was going back to the train station and asked if anybody wanted to come. I jumped on the chance to get the heck out of there. On top of being all-around miserable, I had massive amounts of Old Testament homework that night. Four of us wove our way back to the station, only to discover that the next train didn't depart for home until 11:11. It was just past ten. But at least we got to watch a spectacular fireworks show while we waited! It was the highlight of my night. I told Homer that it made up for missing out on the Fourth of July when we were all on solo in the woods.

The 11:11 finally pulled in. Everyone wanted a spot on the train, so a mosh pit of epic proportions ensued. The personnel screamed at us that no one would get on the train if everyone kept pushing, so my companions and I wisely refrained and waited for the shovers ahead of us to funnel into the car. And then the conductor announced that there was no more space on the train. I couldn't believe the injustice of it.

When the train pulled away, the four of us were the only ones from our group left in Salem, and we were the ones who wanted to leave the most. I was also worried because the girl who was supposed to be designated driver for the people who had left was still with us. The next outbound train was not scheduled to depart until 12:30 AM. I had half a mind to track down one of the evangelists and ask to borrow a Bible to do my Old Testament homework. Fortunately, an inbound train pulled in shortly after and changed direction to accommodate all the travelers going north. By this time, I was tired enough to ask Homer if I could use his shoulder as a pillow for a minute.

It wasn’t until we were pulling out of a station in the next town over from school that someone thought to ask the conductor where our stop was. It seemed like we should have been there already. Surprise! This train wasn’t going to our stop, and we had just pulled away from the last station that was anywhere remotely close to school. The conductor told us to get off at Ipswitch, so we did. What other choice did we have – stay on the train all night long?

Ipswitch was a ghost town. Not even the teenagers were out roaming this late on Halloween night. Not a shop front was lit, not a door unlocked. No convenience store shone a beacon of hope for our hungry stomachs and full bladders. Even the gas station was closed. There was nowhere to go while we waited for our ride to pick us up, which would take at least half an hour.

Then, all at once, we noticed the aroma of doughnuts. We couldn't imagine where it would be coming from at such an hour, but as it turned out, there was a little doughnut shop that was open from midnight til 3PM. What a Godsend. We used the restroom and stuffed our faces and warmed our souls with cocoa until our ride arrived.

Our driver, not knowing the route from our school to Ipswitch, had brought a co-pilot, leaving me and my three companions to pack ourselves into the back of a five-seater. Lucky me got to sit next to Homer. I spent most of the ride trying not to think too hard because part of me was really happy about sitting so close to him, and I wanted that part of me to win for the moment.

We got back to school around quarter of two and had to park out in Woodland. It was a balmy night for November first and the stars were as bright as I could remember seeing them. I would have loved to stay out, maybe take a walk with just Homer and enjoy the sparkling sky. But, as I mentioned, it was nearly two, and all of us were more than happy to turn in.

The end.