As dusk descended on Halloween, Karl Vincent turned on the outdoor porch light of his charcoal gray, gabled house on Grimwood Street in Providence to let the Trick-or-Treaters know that he was now “awake.”
For fun, he’d open the front door with a Transylvanian-accented “Good evenink” worthy of Bela Lugosi himself.
The kids in the neighborhood had gotten to calling his place Vampire House, which of course made him the vampire. So he deliberately kept his home dark and forbidding year-round. And he never appeared during daylight. He ventured out only after sunset, clad in vintage gothic clothes.
Whispers of “There goes the Grimwood Vampire” followed him into the supermarket, the hardware store, and even the tavern. He ate it up. He got a kick out of presenting a grim visage and an occasional bloodthirsty smile.
His favorite candy was at the ready: Kit Kat Counts, chocolate-covered wafers shaped like a vampire with twin fangs showing, and sporting a skull-clasped cape over waistcoat and pants. Deliciously Draculaesque.
Vincent put a three-foot-long pine coffin, which he’d made some years earlier in his basement workshop, on the oblong table in the foyer. It was lined with blood-red velvet. He emptied several party bags of the snack-size Counts into the coffin, then placed its lined lid in the open position. An old movie poster of Dracula hung above the table.
He lit a dozen red candles in the foyer, then turned off its overhead light. He’d already made sure that the rest of the interior was totally dark.
Vincent checked himself in the mirror opposite the poster. He wore a starched white shirt under a black vest, with matching pants and leather ankle boots. He hung his cape on a hook, propped his cane in the corner, and sat on a peacock wicker chair that he’d painted satin black.
No music. He wanted the place to be as quiet as a crypt.
He idly speculated on what would be the popular costumes this year.
The Trick-or-Treaters typically came in small groups, some chaperoned by parents. It gave them confidence as they approached Vampire House.
But toward the end of the night, there was always a solitary candy seeker. Perhaps acting on a friend’s dare; or maybe a misfit like himself.
Whatever the case, Vincent had a special treat planned for this one.