Trick or Treat(s)

Lilly insisted on walking to the door.

It was odd - not in and of itself, necessarily, but odd for a girl who normally eschewed almost any effort, let alone something as tremendously difficult as walking. Even the ridiculously short distance from her bed to her bathroom was handled by somebody else, to say nothing of the frequent and difficult trips to the kitchen when she felt that the food was taking too long. This was not only a matter of convenience for the girl; truth be told, she was almost entirely incapable of moving her enormous eight-year-old form under her own power. The combination of a belly that dangled precipitously past her knees and a rear end that was wider than four girls her size rendered her requiring assistance with every basic human endeavor short of breathing, and that bit of independence likely wouldn’t hang on for too much longer.

But, even so, she insisted. The porch of every house she visited on Halloween - even those with stairs - would be graced by her ponderous footfalls.

This year, she was going as a creeper from Minecraft, although the only really recognizable bit was the hat - it is intensely difficult to transfer the idea of a creature composed of cubes to a bloated mass of youthful curves. Even though the costume was custom-designed for her immensity, she really didn’t fit, even less so when she heaved herself out of her equally customized and reinforced wheelchair as close to the houses as possible. Once out, already puffing, she took slow, heavy steps, stopping every so often to wheeze piteously through crushed airways as the parental figure in the doorway, framed by light and decorations, looked on in shock. Eventually, her sweaty, wobbling form reached the door, and she, completely out of breath, would force out a weak, inaudible “Trick or Treat!”

Despite her ludicrous size, and despite the murmurs of discontent from the candy-givers, she would always - always - receive a rather impressive handful.

The look upon her triple-chinned face as she settled herself back in her chair and tucked into the chocolates at hand was always one of purest triumph.