why can't we go just once?
hey, billy reeves.
ph.  phillip.
stick 'em up.
why'd he take the keys?
would you leave him?
be quiet, mister.
gun in hand, stumbles, falls, gets up, keeps running. he falls again and crawls to a stop. he wipes his tears and balls up on the ground trying to make himself invisible.
hears a gunshot and runs for his life back toward the store.
thankyew. are you gonna' shoot me?
nuthin'.
a car.
it's got keys and a radio. i checked.
can we stop at a fillin' station.
number one.
four.
my daddy.
yeahsir.
nawsir.
he ain't around, really.
my mama says he'll prolly' come back. prolly' when i'm ten or so.
phillip.
any name i want?
wearing the casper mask.
boo.
a bandit.
walks toward the front door but stops short when he sees, once again, the halloween display.
antsy as hell, stuck, wondering how this whole thing is going to play out. he's suddenly aware of the peering eyes behind him. lucy bangs on the glass.
he's frozen for a second, his knees knocking, teeth chattering, the works. lucy appears behind him and the glass door.
a ghost suit.
you ain't mad?
nuthin'.
it's.  puny.
it's puny.
one, two.  six.
lookie there!
they're goin' fast!
why?
where we goin'?
it's pretty.
you been there?
how far?
a soda.  some gum.  half a moon pie.
where we goin'?
we ain't allowed to trick r' treat.
my mama don't allow it.
against our religion.
jehovah witness. butch picks up a dirt clod and hurls it as far as he can. he sighs and turns to phillip.
trick r' treat.
trick r' treat, ma'am.
thankyew. 125 ext. yard - day 125 phillip, sack in hand, waves goodbye to the frightened old woman, who shuts her door and locks it. butch and phillip make their way back across the yard.
nawsir.
yeahsir.
how many?
spreading even more mustard. every so often he sneaks a peek back at the picnicing family.
whooaaa! butch! butch!!!
panicked, slides over and grabs the wheel. of course, he is too short to press on the brake and when he bends down.
gains control of the wheel and steers the rapidly reversing ford around the wagon.
breathes a sigh of relief as the ford loses momentum and comes to a stop. but then, of course, .
totally freaked, jumps down on the floorboard and pushes with both hands on the brake. squealing tires bring.
they look funny.
nawsir.
we don't get christmas.
nawsir. no birthdays, nor parties, neither.
nawsir.
not even one.
seen that once. it's red.
never ate none though.
i do?
thankyew, father, for yer' 'boundiful' nature and goodness. butch and the waitress. cook share a smile.
no thankyew.
-- my mama's not dead! butch, a tad annoyed, turns to phillip and gives him a look. once again, when he turns back, eileen has moved. she's flirting with butch, moving, bending, wiping her hands on her hips. his eyes are focused on her every squirm.
stands right next to the sputtering neon sign, staring straight up, the neon light splashing his face in a grotesque pink light.
you mad at me?
you kissed her, huh?
why?
no. you kissed her backside, huh?
do you love her?
the lady that cooked the hamburgers? butch ponders this, then a grin slides across his face.
yeah!
i wanna' go home.
caus'.
'caus' i stole. they'd put me in jail. prolly' go to hell. butch chuckles at the notion.
butch?
i can drive.
i can print.
like what?
cotton candy?
butch?.
how ya' spell 'rocketship?'
aaaayyyyy!
i'm eight. mine's buzz.
sure thing. mack enters after a hard night's work.
oh, it's real nice. i got a dog named.  phillip and a tree house and.  mack, nervous, enters the room followed by butch.
i don't wanna'.
runs down the road, looking back every so often to see if butch is following
is running out of steam on the road ahead. he stops for a blow and looks back.
finally arrives at the creek, looking over his shoulder all the way. he looks at the water -- deep and running swift. where to go? he decides and heads for the nearest tree -- a big oak, and shimmies up to a branch ten feet or so above the ground.
i'm sorry.
what's beer taste like?
you better run.
threw it in the well.
think i'll get to ride it?
it's my mama. phillip still cranes his neck to see.
i got to do one house. butch smiles. he has an idea.
yeahsir.
butch?.
i wanna' go home!.
i don't need beer!.
i wanna' go home, butch. my mama's not bad! she gives me those things.
i jus' wanna' go home.
she's a real good mama. butch reaches into his pocket, extracts the remaining wad of stolen bills, unzips the casper outfit, stuffs them into the costume and rezips.
yer' not bad, are you, butch?
what are you gonna' do?
do they want to shoot you? butch starts to lie to the boy but can't.
is helped to his feet by his mother. she holds him dearly to her chest. he hugs back just as hard, his blood-stained casper outfit staining her blouse. she unzips the costume and dollar bills fly all around. she starts to lead phillip off but he won't leave until.  he pulls the postcard from butch's hand.
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