A Sweet Victory

A Sweet Victory

Fall is in the air. Warren’s favorite time of year. He walks through the town square of Caramel City, stopping in front of the golden skeleton display case and smiling as he sees his name “Warren Whitlock” shining in plaque at the bottom. 

Caramel City is a thriving town, who focuses on their booming confectionary mill that specializes in making the best caramel around. Being a caramel-centered town, they produce the best caramel apples, which also makes them a popular destination for Halloween. 

On top of the caramel, the street Warren lives on has an annual skeleton display contest every year. Warren won it last year, after losing to his neighbor, Dean Holloway five years running. Dean was previously known as the king of the skeleton decorating contest, with outlandish, creative displays from skeletons dressed as musicians, historical figures, etc. Dean is competitive and can sometimes be a little smug, which doesn’t sit right with Warren.

Warren strolls through town, still smiling and in the fall spirit, smelling the distinct Caramel City air of warm, burnt sugar, woodsmoke, wet leaves, and fog. He inhales deeply, smiling as he rounds the corner, then stops dead in his tracks. He sees Dean’s display and feels his heart sink. Winning last year meant everything to him, but how could he possibly top this? Dean’s skeletons are elaborate and creative, setup to look like a haunted carnival. Complete with a cotton candy stand, that is making real cotton candy! Real!

The utter outrage that starts bubbling through Warren is hot enough to boil the caramel in the factory. Not only did he finally see his name on the golden skeleton plaque, but his family got to reap the benefits of the winner and their family winning a year supply of free caramel apples from the factory. He can taste the sweet taste of victory along with the sweet and salty caramel apple with crushed pretzel, sea salt, and chocolate drizzle that he has been getting every day for the past year. He can taste it slipping away, out of his control.

He bursts through the doors of his home, where his wife and two children stand waiting on him. To his utter dismay, his daughter Lily is eating cotton candy! And his son Caleb is sitting there eating his Monster Mash apple, complete with candy eyeballs, gummy worms, and green-and-purple sprinkles.

 "Don’t get too used to those apples, son!” he shouts, 

“And no more cotton candy allowed!” he shouts to Lily. 

His wife Margaret loves Warren but is becoming insistently tired of the time and money Warren is willing to put into the contest. When he won last year, she was extremely proud, after seeing all of the hard work he put in but seen the way it got to him. She did become pretty fond of The Millionaire apple she enjoyed every day, topped with toffee bits, butterscotch drizzle, and edible gold flakes. It’s the most expensive apple in town, but she got to enjoy it daily for free. Aside from enjoying the perks of Warren winning, she doesn’t like the way he is treating Caleb and Lily, who are simply just children enjoying Halloween.

Margaret takes the children outside to play, leaving Warren fuming by himself in the living room. Warren sits, raging, thinking of how he can top Dean’s display, what can he possibly do to make his display the most realistic display the neighborhood has ever seen? He must get to work immediately. 

Warren starts spending hours upon hours in the garage with his skeletons. He’s taking off work, skipping meals, spending little to no time at all with his family. Warren decides to go with a haunted Victorian mansion for his display. He comes in all hours of the night, covered in paint. His display is coming along nicely, as neighbor’s stop to admire it, but he notices that Dean’s also keeps looking better and better. It’s still just a notch above his own.

Warren goes on a walk to clear his head, stopping by the factory to grab a snowball apple to enjoy while he still can, covered in toasted coconut flakes, white chocolate, and powdered sugar. The caramel apple improves his mood, and it strikes him just what he needs to do to take his display to the next level.

Margaret is used to Warren spending countless hours in the garage and in the yard late at night, coming in covered paint, but she’s very surprised when one night his clothes are covered in dirt and he doesn’t come to bed until 4 AM.

The next morning, the smell of caramel drifted through the open kitchen window, mixing with the crisp October air. Warren had been working out there until nearly three in the morning, hammering and dragging things across the lawn, and she had finally fallen asleep to the sound of his muttering from the garage. He had promised her that this year's skeleton contest would be his best yet. She took her coffee and walked toward the front window. For a moment, she simply stared. Their modest two-story house had disappeared behind a Victorian mansion.

Warren had constructed an enormous facade across the front lawn, complete with towering gray walls, crooked chimneys, black shutters, and a steep roofline that seemed to lean dangerously toward the street. Dark ivy twisted around the windows, and wooden boards covered portions of the second floor. The front entrance featured two massive doors beneath an arched stone frame, while a pair of gargoyles crouched on either side of the steps. Even in the morning light, the mansion looked as though it had been abandoned for a hundred years and left to rot beneath the weight of its own secrets.

Margaret smiled into her coffee. She had to give him credit. The man was competitive, stubborn, and completely unreasonable when it came to the annual contest, but he certainly knew how to put on a show. She then woke the kids to come outside and have a look! She told them they would all go get an apple to celebrate afterward, because Warren was sure to win.

A skeleton in a faded maid's uniform stood beside the doorway, holding a silver tray. Another sat on a bench beneath a dead tree, dressed in a gentleman's coat and top hat. Near the fountain, a woman in a long lace gown held a closed parasol, her skull tilted toward the ground as though she had just heard something whispered behind her.

Margaret slowed.

The costumes were extraordinary. 

But it was the skeletons themselves that made her stop.

Caleb noticed that their bones weren't bright white like the plastic decorations sold at the hardware store. They were uneven shades of ivory and yellow, with darker patches around the joints. Their fingers were slender and individually shaped. Their teeth were crooked, some missing altogether. Even the rib cages seemed different from one another, each with its own strange imperfections.

"Well, I'll be."

They turned at the sound of a voice. Dean Holloway stood at his own gate across the street, holding a mug of coffee. Even from that distance, she could see him studying the mansion with an expression caught somewhere between admiration and irritation.

"Warren's finally lost his mind," Dean called.

Margaret laughed nervously. "I think he's done a wonderful job."

"Wonderful?" Dean shook his head. "Margaret, that thing looks like it came straight out of a nightmare."

"That's the idea, isn't it?" 

Warren had always been good at creating scenes. The previous year, he had built a skeleton orchestra, complete with tiny instruments and a miniature conductor. His winning year! Of course he had to top it this year to beat Dean again, and to beat the haunted carnival display.

Dean didn't answer. He looked again at the skeletons, then slowly lowered his coffee.

"That's enough of that."

Warren's voice came from behind her.

She turned. He stood in the doorway, his hair uncombed and his shirt sleeves rolled to his elbows. There was dirt on his jeans and a dark smear across one wrist. But his face glowed with pride.

"Well?" he asked. "What do you think?"

Margaret looked from him to the dining table.

"It's incredible, Warren."

He grinned. "I knew you'd like it."

"How did you make them look so real?"

For a fraction of a second, his expression changed.

Then he shrugged.

"Attention to detail."

Although she is proud, and thinks that Warren will win, Margaret can’t help the sinking feeling she gets as she looks at her husband, that he doesn’t feel like winning is something that should be earned, but something he deserves, and he has become consumed with the impulse to win, no matter what. Suddenly, the thought of going to her millionaire apple seems a little less pleasant now. She continues smiling, but as she looks over at her children, she notices that Caleb has a puzzles expression on his face. 

The day that Warren has been waiting on all year has finally arrived, he wakes up, puts on his skeleton shirt, and gets ready to win his caramel apple supply and have his name etched in the plaque once more. He walks to the town square, and when he gets back, there are police surrounding his property. The red and blue lights are flashing all over his most magnificent display. 

“Dean! Come out here right now! What have you done?” He shouts.

Warren assumes that Dean found out he found his skeletons at the local cemetery. It turns out, Caleb went to school that morning, asking his science teacher an array of questions, such as:

“What color are skeleton bones?”

“What do skeletons hands look like?”

“What are skeleton teeth shaped like?”

“Are the rib cages and spines symmetrical on a skeleton?”

“What does a skeleton sound like when you bump into it?”

His teacher, being a mandated reporter, called the local cops. 

How sweet really is victory? 

And at what lengths are people willing to go to achieve it?