This is my first complete short story. The idea came to me many years ago and I'm very happy I finally put it onto paper (so to speak). Hope you enjoy!





Stratford, Ontario, Canada is a lovely place. Famous for it's wading swans down by the river, culinary adventure, accommodations, and, of course, birthplace of many fine actors and actresses careers, thanks to the numerous grand in door theatres.
Now, Stratford is a champion of the annual 'Nations In Bloom' competition, and so many would argue that in summer Stratford is it's prettiest. This does tend to be true, but all of the flowers taxpayers pay to be planted cannot override the true beauty of the season thereafter; autumn. The city is fanned with aged maple trees on almost every street, and when autumn takes over, you can best be sure that all those flowers are dandelions compared to the shear, natural beauty of turning fall leaves.
The fall season alone anywhere brings communities together in celebrative and festive ways. Stratford is no exception. In September, the Fall Fair arrives in the city and twenty minutes away, so does the Wellesley Apple Butter and Cheese Festival. St.Marys, a city next door, has the McCully Hill Farm just outside of it. Here, you can pick your gourds fresh grown by the farmers and enjoy hayrides and corn mazes. The Farm also hosts it's annual "Great Pumpkin Toss" event, in which pumpkins meet their fate via catapult and observers can make bets where the pumpkin will first hit the ground.
Yes, the autumn season is at an ultimate high. Even as darker days and the onset of winter months approach, people are celebrating. October is a month with particular spirit. There is always a family raking leaves any day it isn't raining and as soon as the first of the month comes, not only are Thanksgiving decorations going up, but also Halloween as well.
Stratford citizens keep Halloween very much alive. Everywhere you look, someone is putting up a skeleton or setting out there freshly picked pumpkin for carving. Some streets contain venues that have completely outdone themselves with Halloween merchandise; hanging bats, witches, stuffed dummies, entire propped graveyards - all very impressive indeed.
"Devil's Night", the night before Halloween, is a traditional night of youth mischief, as in any town. There are few gates to steal, but some residents awake Halloween morning to find a missing pumpkin from their stoop, or soapy windows. As these 'Devil's Night' pranks have been portrayed by the youth for many generations, most owners are quickly apt to forgive these antics (especially if such events remind them of the their own youthful hijinks).
With all the traditions and celebrations that float around this city in regards to Halloween, there actually are few tales of mysterious happenings during this spiritual time of year. Any that have been heard have long been forgotten…save one:

If you go to a lengthy street called John in Stratford, you will find it’s graveyard, nestled beside the forested Stratford trails. A large, black gate held by grey stone pillars marks one of the entranceways. Upon entering, there are two cement roads that begin the cemetery; one slopes straight and upward, the other veers to left, slopping downwards. Both ways are lined with tombstones, crypts and mature, tall maple trees. At the back of this graveyard there is a particular single maple tree somewhat smaller than the rest that surround it. Its leaves are the same brilliant colours than any other maple in the fall and there are several large roots sticking up from the ground beneath it. The only difference between it and other maples in the cemetery is that the grassy floor below it is very yellow. It is also sunken in a bit; for you would surely notice well enough if you were walking and happen to stumble in it. Compare the sunken grassy earth in front of this tree to the same ones in the cemetery who have headstones, and the similarities are not missed. This is where the myth begins.
If this apparent grave were to still have its headstone, this is what it would read:

EVENSON
ALBERT HAROLD
1900-1985
EVA GLORIA DENNIS
1900-1969

and
Toby

How is this known if this gravestone is not there? To follow legend, one with enough courage to go into the graveyard after midnight on October thirty-first, would see the tombstone with that label on it.
There is no record of Mr. and Mrs. Everson being buried at this burial plot at the Stratford Cemetery. The reason concluded is as follows:
Shortly after Albert and Eva’s passing, their gravestone was constantly removed by some unseen thief in the night. Every time the gravestone would be replaced, it would disappear the very next morning. Flyers were distributed asking thieves to fess up to their crime of robbery, but no one would confess. And, with no known Evenson relatives, the cemetery could not continue to replace the stone at its expense.
So it is said that an unmarked grave lies by this maple tree. No one dares to dig it up, for fear it is cursed, so the yellow grass has remained untouched and the story forgotten…

But what of the names on the grave? What would a group of thieves with such obvious persistence want with a random tombstone since 1985? Why should this particular (and heavy block to add) be a consistent target of robbery? There are no records of any other monuments being as disrupted as this. It is difficult to imagine the grudge one must have against this Evenson family. But if there are no thieves and the myth is true, perhaps there is a more supernatural, even haunted, meaning behind this story.

* * *

Albert Evenson was born in London, Ontario, Canada. Being an only child, he spent much time watching and helping his father repair clocks and watches for the locals. As he was a quiet and shy boy, he had a great attachment to his parents. Because of this, it was extremely difficult for him when they died suddenly while has was still in his youth. They had been swimming at a lake and drowned from the under toe.
Albert lived with his grandparents until adulthood where he then moved to Stratford. Here, he met Eva Dennis. She was a small woman with long brown hair and blue eyes, which he loved madly. They married in 1920 and Albert provided for them by fixing clocks and watches, just as his father had. Eva opened their home as a small bed and breakfast for extra income.
Eva was a wonderful cook and was praised for her homemade sweets that were given out on Halloween. She loved the holiday very much, and Albert did too. Both Albert and Eva shared the misfortune of having no living relatives, so they would host small Halloween parties for neighbours and their hospitality was appreciated by many.
Mr. and Mrs. Evenson loved children, but were unable to have any, so Halloween was a great occasion to see children come to their door for treats. Some children would visit three or four times Halloween night asking for delicious handfuls of homemade goodies, to which the Evenson’s did wholeheartedly oblige.
It was a sad day indeed when Eva Evenson died. Thirty days before Halloween in 1969, Eva passed away, and Albert was devastated. Friends and neighbours offered their condolences, but Albert locked himself in for the first time that Halloween and vowed to never celebrate the holiday again.
Several years had passed and it was the anniversary of his wife’s death. Mr. Evenson sat on his front porch miserably that day and not looking forward to October thirty-first at all. Dreading it, even. Suddenly a young puppy came trotting up to his doorstep. Mr. Evenson told the dog to go away, but the puppy was persistent in staying. Albert stood up, looked around and looked back at the dog. It was apparent that the puppy was a mutt, and a runt to add, and the probable discard of a litter. That day, Evenson’s heart melted. The runt needed him and Albert was drawn to the little guy. So he took the dog in, named it Toby and grew to love it very much indeed.
Toby was a very good dog to Mr. Evenson, but only to Mr. Evenson. He was rather anti-social and hostile with strangers and neighbours alike. Many had complaints of the dog and requests of its removal from the neighbourhood, but Albert could not do it. Toby had eventually softened his master’s heart so much, that Albert began to feel a revival for his love of Halloween. After several years, Mr. Evenson began to give out candy again on Halloween. Unfortunately, few children would come to his door, for Toby had grown to be a very large, aggressive dog without reason. He also had large and unique red-tinged eyes, which was another reason why children and their parents hesitated to visit the Evenson home on Halloween. Mr. Evenson did not like this, but could not give up Toby.

One fateful day in October 1985, Albert Evenson went to the store to buy some candy for Halloween. He was expecting a package that day and left a not on his door saying to leave the parcel outside. When the delivery boy came, the note was absent (perhaps caught in the wind). On discovery that the door was unlocked, the young man stepped inside…
When Mr. Evenson returned home that afternoon, there was an ambulance and police lined outside his home. The delivery boy lay in a stretcher. He was shouting loudly about the horrible red eyes, and was covered in blood. Mr. Evenson found Toby in his house, with blood covered walls. It had been a very brutal attack and the delivery boy later died in hospital shortly thereafter.
Toby was put to sleep (with much effort) and Mr. Evenson died on October 31, 1985, probably from too much heartache. He had wanted his dog buried with his wife (and later himself) in their plot at the Stratford Cemetery, for he thought Toby as his only son. But the cemetery would not allow it. It is said that in a fit of rage, Evenson buried the dog himself on ‘Devil’s Night’, beside his wife’s grave, and carved Toby’s name on the headstone.
After Evenson’s passing, caretakers of the cemetery had Toby’s inscription removed. Legend has it that Albert Evenson would carve Toby’s name back into the stone every time, and the cemetery staff would always remove the ‘vandals’ writing. Evenson became so outraged by this, even in death, that he removed the tombstone altogether. He would return it for Halloween night, because, like other ghosts, that is when the Evenson’s and Toby come back to haunt the earth.
Of course, Eva Evenson comes to visit for her favourite holiday. She wanders the streets of Stratford, watching the young children in their costumes collecting candy. Albert Evenson, on the other hand, is said to be much more vengeful; he and Toby haunt the entire city looking for citizens who have failed to dress in costume or place a lighted pumpkin outside their house.
There are some unconfirmed cases of both children and adults missing on the night the Evenson family returns. Those who are lucky enough to escape Mr. Evenson and Toby (probably with the help of Mrs. Evenson nagging to let them go) have said that they can see Toby’s red eyes stealing their soul. Those who did not escape are said to go mad and numb after their soul is taken by “The Red Eyes”.

After hearing such a tale, would one really risk the chance of being caught by Albert or Toby? Many will say it is false superstition to believe in such tales. To them, believers will say this: Walk without costume on Halloween night and leave your home unguarded by a hallow, lit pumpkin. But the red eyes of Toby Evenson may be the last thing you see and the cackling laughter of Mr. Albert Evenson may be the last thing you hear before waking up in the insane asylum the next morning!

HAPPY HALLOWEEN!