It was a strong, biting wind, swirling the autumn color leaves and candy wrappers around the street when they left. But in less than an hour, they returned. Chris insisted he could take his little sister out trick or treating without us. After all, he was eleven, and Erin was six.

Here they were; Tinkerbell and Captain Hook, fresh from barely an hour of plunder and looting stale, seasonal candy from the neighborhood, their booty pails, not half-full of any type of treasure. They looked so sad when they emptied their pumpkin pails on the table. Sharing? 

Really?

When they saw me, they tried to ease up quietly out of the room.

"Hold on there, Hook, Tink."

They froze in their tracks without turning around.

"What's up?"

"Whaddaya mean?"

"I mean sharing? Home early? What's up?"

"Nothing," said Chris.

Erin stared at the floor, saying nothing, offering nothing.

"Well?"

Chris got nervous, started fidgeting, shuffling his feet back and forth.

"Chris?"

"It was nothing, mom. Honest."

"What was nothing?"

Chris shuffled his feet, shooting what he thought was a discreet glance to Erin. Her eyes slid up to connect to her brother's.

"These boys–" started Erin.

"Erin!" shouted Chris.

I turned to my daughter. "Erin?"

"Down by that old, scary mansion. Big boys," she said.

"What, boys?"

"Down by that old house by the playground?"

"The Somerset mansion? We told you guys to stay away from that place."

They both hung their heads, knowing how wrong they were, but now they had to own up.

"They were high school," added Chris. "They were charging a toll.

"A toll?"

"We had to give them half our candy to pass through their territory."

"Their territory?"

"Yeah. The playground is at the edge of Waterbury Park. They were doing it to all the kids out on the street without parents."

"Bullying and extortion," I said to no one in particular.

"Huh?"

"Never mind. You two go get cleaned up. Mommy's going to step out for a minute. Go watch TV with your dad."

"But he's watching football," protested Erin.

"It's the Arizona Cardinals," yelled their father from the other room. Both my babies headed towards their daddy.

God, bullying, and extortion right here n my neighborhood. I hadn't come across anything like this since I left the army; MP sergeant. There was a lot of this on the base, any military base, actually.

Young recruits, homesick and lonely, are being taken advantage of by more assertive and streetwise soldiers. She even caught some non-coms doing it. That's when she really lowered the hammer on them. That's when they dropped the hammer.

I grabbed their empty pails and headed to Waterbury Park. Ten minutes later, I was across the street from that scary mansion. There they were, three of them, glorious in their letterman jackets, their stupidity shining through, eating ill-gotten goods and laughing it up.

They saw me coming.

"Hello, boys."

All heads turned to me. They eyed me up and down; being flattered didn't overcome the feeling of being creeped out. I didn't say anything. I saw the bags of stolen goodies, then stared at them munching on their newly acquired goods.

"You boys been trick or treating?"

"What's it to you, bitch?"

So much for flattery.

"I think you stole some of your stash from my kids."

"Stole?” They all laughed. I placed the jack-o-lantern pails in front of them. They contributed, we accepted."

"What's that?"

"You're going to make a contribution to me."

They laughed. The self-appointed spokesperson looked at me. "Think again, bitch!" Two sentences, two bitches. Nice. 

It all filtered down to the basics, the only time the trickle-down theory seemed to work.

"What did you say?"

"You heard me, bitch." Three for three.

I reached out and snatched him by the collar and slammed him to the ground. One of his buddies made a move and bought himself an elbow to his nose. The sound of crunching cartilage did my body good. 

Asshole #3 froze.

The spokesman tried to get up. I kicked him back down. From the ground, he said, "Go on, take the shit."

"Not that easy, asshole."

I reached down and ripped open their shopping bags, hot candy and other empty calories spilling out.

"Eat!"

"What?"

"Eat! Now! 

Don't stop until I say so. Eat!"

I sat down on the bench and watched. I kicked the empty pails in their direction. 

"You're gonna need these, boys. 

Don't want you contaminating the park, now do we?"

Back at home, my husband was still watching football. The kids were in their rooms.

"Where you been, honey?"

"Stepped out for a second."

"Kids said you took their candy pails."

I really didn't expect them to keep a secret from their dad. I just thought it would slow him down from trying to stop my mission.

"Sure did."

"Aren't you a little old to go trick-or-treating?"

"Maybe, but some things keep me young."

"Good for you, honey. Good for you. You didn't hurt anyone, did you?"

"Not so you'd notice."

"That's my girl." I cuddled up closer to him.

"Oh, the kids are going to need new Halloween pails."

"No problem."

Gotta love Kyler Murray. He pulled me closer as the Arizona Cardinals drove for another touchdown. Sometimes I really love Halloween.