Costume Shops

It was Halloween, and there were shops all over the place – just for the season. We started at one end of town and worked our way to the other looking for something that had a decent selection. This close to Halloween the pickings were slim and I didn’t much like what they had. So we moved on.

We wound up at a costume emporium with a lot of stock. Hunter grabbed a few costumes himself and hung them on the door to the dressing room. Apparently I was to try them on.

I sighed. “Fine.”

Hunter grinned, “You secretly love it.”

“Is that something you know?” I asked the little boy.

He just grinned at me. I hated that he knew things. But then it made things simple too. And he wasn’t exactly wrong. I could get behind a little fashion show. And I knew in the back of my head I had done it several times. Though I didn’t know exactly why. The memories were just feelings. I wondered if I’d ever know who I was. Or who I loved so much. I hoped Alex was right. Hoped he was the one. But I didn’t have his confidence even with Hunter backing him up.

I grabbed the two costumes I had picked and the others Hunter had chosen and I stepped into the dressing room. 

I knew what I grabbed, so I looked through Hunter’s choices. I frowned at the very ‘normal’ garb. I could probably make a better 70s era outfit at a boutique then here in the costume shop if that was something Hunter thought was the right one.

I put on the rainbow bell bottoms that fit, but were too tight in order to actually not show lines would require me to purchase said outfit and go commando. Which wasn’t a problem in and of itself, but I disliked feeling that vulnerable – specially when I knew kids would be around.

The shirt didn’t button all the way and it probably was meant to show off chest hair which Nox did not have. He shivered at the thought and while it was sexy on someone else he found it. He didn’t know really how to explain it. And usually he didn’t have to no one had ever complained.

Nox didn’t put the wig or fake mustache on, or even the gold chain. He could do better with everything at a thrift shop but he stepped out with the disco theme and Hunter giggled, “You didn’t put the wig on.”

“I’m not wearing this.”

Hunter giggled again. “What if I told you Da was gonna wear something like it.”

“I’d say you are full of shit!”

Hunter giggled. He knew I was right. And that made me feel better as I peeled the offending costume form my body. Hunter had picked out a second disco guy which I did not put on. This one having an afro for a wig and I shook my head. “Nope!” and tossed to over the door to the stall. Not a chance.

My costume choices were all pretty on par. I had picked three. And as I stood staring at them hanging on the wall I saw one left in here before me. It was still in a plastic bag – never been worn. I chucked and opened the door and held up the plastic bag to Hunter.

Hunter shook his head, “Da will want you alone, I won’t get to spend time with you.” He quickly added, “Me or Cass.”

I laughed. He was probably right, Alex would have less to take off if he decided that a shower scene was something he wanted to enact. And for the same reason as before that made me put the in the shower costume down as funny as it might be. Having to explain all the tattoos I didn’t know what they meant didn’t sound like a fun time.

So I was back down to my choices. One was labelled prince of darkness aka vampire. But there were no fangs or classic things just a guy wearing black and proto-satanic symbols. Of course the guy in the picture wore thick eye liner which would go with my usual make up routine. But I nixed that one right off. Some how knowing that vampires were real made it a lot less appealing – specially when one stood guard of a five year old boy outside the very stall I was in. Was it offending to dress as a vampire?

So I was down to two rather sexy historical men – a pharaoh and a spartan warrior. First the Egyptian king – the black and gold were nice, and the outfit covered a lot of skin. The only set back to either of the costumes was the skirt like bottoms they each had. I was never one much to wear skirts or dresses or kilts. It had been a thing as a kid. Being bullied your whole life was reflected upon all your choices there after. And this was no different. 

Memories of one particular blonde boy chased away all the good thoughts I’d been having and I sat down heavily on the bench in the stall. Hunter asked, “You okay?”

I nodded, “Memories.”

Hunter crawled in and unlocked the door. “We can do something else?” The small boy grabbed my hand and dragged me out. I gave an apologetic look to the clerk but said anything as he took me out.

“There is a thrift shop around the corner.” Hunter said, “I’m sure we could find something there.”

“But…” Was all I could manage as I tried to push the bad memories of a childhood I didn’t remember from my head. Things I didn’t really want to remember – not ever. 



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