The Black Heart Crypt

Around four-thirty on Halloween, Malik’s and Azalea’s parents dropped them off at Zack’s house.

They both had a little trouble climbing out of the cars because they were already in costume: giant bright-yellow poster-board “Bs” splattered with ketchup and salsa (for chunkier blood). Zack, brandishing a bloodied rubber machete, met them on the front porch in his own big yellow “B.”

“Buenos nachos, senor and senorita,” said Zack in a cheesy Spanish accent, because he and Malik had read up on killer bees and learned that a bunch of them swarm north from Central and South America every year, which was also why they’d added sombreros to their costumes. Azalea had kept the gypsy turban from Aunt Ginny’s trunk. She was going as the queen killer bee.

The night before, when his two friends had learned that Zack still didn’t have a costume, Azalea suggested they all borrow Malik’s “awesome idea” and become a hive of killer bees. Judy went to the party store at the mall and picked up three pairs of deely-boppers—those springy glitter balls on a headband—so they’d all look like they had goofy antennae bobbing around on their heads. She actually found a fourth pair at the pet store. It was for Zipper.

Zack’s dad came out to the porch to join Zack, Azalea, and Malik. Aunt Ginny, dressed in a fleecy purple tracksuit and toting a small purple backpack, followed him.

“Wow, you guys look fantastic,” said Zack’s dad, who had caught the early train home from New York City so he could take Zack and his friends trick-or-treating. “What great costumes.”

“It was Malik’s idea,” said Zack.

“Well, Malik, I give your killer bees an ‘A.’ ”

Zack and Azalea groaned. Malik, on the other hand, beamed with pride.

“Thank you, Mr. Jennings,” he said.

“I think you all look absolutely adorable!” gushed Aunt Ginny.

Zack, Azalea, and Malik arched their eyebrows.

“Adorable?” said Zack. “Aunt Ginny, we’re splattered with blood. We’re carrying bloody weapons.”

“I even have blood on both my antennae,” added Azalea.

“Oh, you know what, Azalea?” The seventy-seven-year-old clapped her hands together like a giddy first grader. “You should splash some blood on your turban, too. It’d look cute!”

“Um,” said Zack, “cute isn’t exactly what we were going for here, Aunt Ginny.”

“After all,” said Azalea, “this is Halloween. It’s supposed to be the scariest night of the year.”

“Oh, of course, dear,” said Aunt Ginny. “My bad, as they say. Kindly allow me to rephrase my remarks: You three look absolutely horrible! In fact, you look hideous. Better?”

“Much,” said Azalea with a laugh.

Judy came out to the porch with the digital camera and a bowl of miniature candy bars. Zipper was right behind her. The three “Bs” knelt down around Zip and posed for a few quick pictures. They also helped Judy hand out candy to the first pack of little kids (two Disney princesses, one Batman, and an alien) to troop up the steps while their parents stood smiling proudly down on the lawn.

“Guess we better hit Main Street,” said Zack’s dad. “The festivities are just about to start.”

“The event officially starts at five,” said Azalea. “There’s a costume contest at six-thirty, doughnuts and cider at seven. I memorized the poster.”

Of course she had.

“You guys all set?” asked Zack’s dad.

“Sí, Senor Jennings,” said Malik, only he pronounced it “Hennings,” the same way “Jose” is pronounced “Hose-ay.”

They trundled down the porch steps and headed for the van. Zack’s dad and Aunt Ginny rode up front. Malik, Azalea, and Zack worked their way into the rear, careful not to crush or bend their stiff costumes. Zipper hopped in after them.

“Seat belts buckled?” asked Zack’s dad.

“Yes,” said Malik. “My motto is ‘Bee prepared!’ Hey, do you know what my favorite bee-movie is? The Sting!”

When Malik said that, even sweet Aunt Ginny groaned.