Halloween #5 – My Most Memorable Halloween………………Arion

Halloween Eve, 1996; a great year in my life; my bookstore was flourishing, and best of all, and I had tickets to the Dark Star Ball, an annual costume ball held in San Francisco. Not only that, I had asked Lorraine, a pretty girl whom I’d flirted with for months, and she said yes!

The Dark Star Ball was a costume ball organized on a Science Fiction theme. Your costume had to reflect a sci-fi movie, TV show, or book. You couldn’t just dress up in a green blanket and claim to be the man from Mars, no! Your clothing had to be from something legitimate: Luke Skywalker, Mr. Spock, Terminator, Jurassic Park, etc. Something that people would know was Sci-Fi.

My costume consisted of a military BDU (Battle Dress Uniform) with the proper patches and insignia of a Colonial Marine, from the movie, Aliens. I’d been to a couple of Sci-Fi conventions the year before and had bought all the right patches, and had a dry-cleaner service sew them on for me. I’d picked up the boots in a surplus store. I got my hair buzzed for the occasion. Looking in a mirror, I knew I looked perfect.

The night before the ball, I was enjoying myself with a late-night snack before bed: a Spam sandwich with lettuce, tomatoes, and gobs of Miracle Whip; just the way I liked it. Suddenly, a sharp shooting pain went through my stomach, and I looked at the colossal sandwich in my hand. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all. I tossed the sandwich into the garbage, took a handful of aspirin and went to bed.

The following day I didn’t feel any better, but the thought of missing the Dark Star Ball filled me with resolve. I’d bought the tickets two months in advance, and by golly I was going to go. I’d prepared my costume for months, and Lorraine was excited because she had never been to a costume party in her life. This was our night! I held up my chin and did my best to ignore the pain. It was hard, though, because it really hurt; finally, I asked Lorraine if she could drive us there, and she agreed.

When she picked me up, I told her she looked perfect, and she did. She wore a simple business suit, but had clipped on a metal badge with the Greek Psi symbol on it, Ψ. This identified her as a member of the Psi Corps, from the Babylon 5 TV show. A Marine and a Psi-Cop!

We had a great time at the Dark Star Ball. There were three different Darth Vaders, and five separate Spocks! One guy wore an entire flying saucer around his body (held on by shoulder straps) and his head was visible through a plastic bubble in the center. The only problem with that costume was that he couldn’t dance, and what a lot of dancing there was! Waltzes, Mazurkas, Rumba, Shag, even the Charleston. If you didn’t know how to dance, there were plenty of people who did, and they were great teachers. Lorraine and I had a lot of fun, and in between dances we watched or took part in traditional holiday games like bobbing for apples, and not-so-traditional games like pumpkin bowling (roll a pumpkin down a lane marked with string to knock down empty 2-liter bottles).

The grand prize went to Darth Vader #2, who had a sound-box installed which played the Dark Lord’s breathing and a calculator embedded on his chest-plate.

Now and then my stomach would hurt, but I did my best to ignore it. But on the drive back, I was doubled up, and halfway home Lorraine announced she was taking me to the hospital.

The admitting nurse diagnosed me with acute appendicitis, and I was prepped for immediate surgery. As they asked me all the usual questions about alcohol and drug use, the RN turned to Lorraine and said, “Isn’t this fun? You’re finding out everything about him that would usually take years to learn!”

I apologized to Lorraine repeatedly for ruining a great date, but she shook her head and told me my life was more important.

Two hours later I was wheeled into the recovery room. I was half-dead from the anesthesia, but the surgeon came in to tell me that I’d be fine. “However, here’s a little Halloween horror for you,” he said, giving me an evil grin like a Jack O’Lantern. “Your appendix was about an hour or two from bursting. Once that happens, you’ve got a 50-50 chance of dying. I hope you’ve learned your lesson.”

"Yeah," I groaned. "Too much machismo is dangerous to your health." Then I passed out again.

A day later, I called my mother for a ride, pulled on my costume, and staggered out to the curb. As I waited, I noticed a couple of soldiers from a nearby army base walking toward the hospital entrance. I nodded at them, and they looked at me, and then stopped. They spoke to each other, shrugged, and finally one of them, a sergeant, walked over to me and asked, “What unit are you with?”

I laughed and explained the situation, and he guffawed. “Great costume!” he said, clapped me on the shoulder and walked away.

It was the best compliment I’d ever received, and almost made up for a ruined date.

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