A Sign on the Road: a Halloween Story

The old woman who managed the small bed and breakfast where the couple was staying offered a word of caution. She advised them to be careful on the roads. “If you go for a hike, be careful out there” she said. “This time of year, the roads and paths are treacherous,” she warned. “Things happen, and no one believes what happens. That’s one of the reasons we close the B&B a week before and a week after Halloween. The staff need a break, too.”

The couple expressed their gratitude for the exception. “We are truly thankful and appreciate the exception you did for us,” he responded.

The woman explained, “Well, that was thanks to my daughter. She didn’t know our practice, she had been studying in Toronto, you see. It was only this week she started accepting reservations like yours. Now you are here, I’m not going to send you back. am I?” With that, she handed the room keys to the young couple.

After resting for a while, the couple decided to drive back toward a little road they had noticed from the highway to explore the countryside. As they came downstairs, they saw their host enjoying the afternoon, seated on the veranda of the old century home that now served as a B&B. The couple greeted her and told her about their plans to go for a walk and explore.

The old woman wished them well but warned them again about the dangers of the roads and paths in the area.

The couple drove for a while and parked their car on the side of a muddy road. Putting on their rubber boots, they began walking toward a faint glow they had seen from the main road, just past a small hill ahead. They wandered in that direction, enjoying the crisp autumn air, the falling leaves, and the northern wind.

The afternoon was so beautiful that they kept walking, even as the light seemed farther away than they had first thought. Turning back to the car felt unnecessary. It was just a small hill, after all. The luminous glow that had sparked their curiosity couldn’t be too far ahead.

As twilight deepened, the glow grew brighter. It became more difficult to keep their balance on the slick mud, but they continued, laughing occasionally as they slipped and stumbled.

Finally, they reached the source of the mysterious light and chuckled, it was an electric sign on the roadside that read: “Point of No Return.”

“A bit of roadside philosophy in the middle of nowhere,” she said, half to herself.

He smiled and replied, “If this is the point of no return, we must decide. Do we go on, or do we turn back? Do you want to take the risk of crossing that threshold?”

She didn’t answer. Instead, she walked toward the small white metal structure holding the sign and called back, “Take a picture of me with it!”

As she moved closer, she realized that afternoon had faded into night almost without her noticing. The only light came from the sign itself.

Standing in its glow, she couldn’t see him anymore. “Is the light enough,” she called, “or do you need the flash on your fancy camera?”

There was no answer.

“Don’t ignore me,” she said, frustrated “you know I hate when you do that.” “I guess that defines our relationship” she thought. 

Still, nothing.

Annoyed, she turned back toward him trying not to fall. The glow faintly illuminated him; he was sitting on the ground, holding his head.

“What’s wrong with you?” she said sharply. Almost shocked, she noticed he was wearing different clothes than just a few minutes earlier. “And when did you change your clothes?” she asked, panic creeping into her voice.

He didn’t answer. When he finally looked up, tears were running down his cheeks. That’s when she saw the white streaks at his temples.

Almost in full dread, she stammered, “What, how, when, what happened?” She mumbled. “Why aren’t you answering me?” she finally managed to say.

He slowly stood, letting a single red rose fall from his hand along with a card. Staring in her direction, but not quite at her, he quietly said, “I did ask if you wanted to cross the threshold. You thought I was joking, and that day, I was. But you wanted a picture, and now… that’s all I have of you… Happy anniversary, my love.”

A chill ran through her. He wasn’t seeing her; he was looking through her.

He walked away toward where the car was parked. She stayed there, not knowing why. Instead, she picked up the rose and the card. The handwriting was unmistakably his. As she tried to read the card, she realized she needed more light. She walked back to the sign for better illumination, tears spilling down her cheeks as she read the loving words and smelled the flower. It was then that she noticed the date on the card. “That can’t be right,” she thought. “It’s dated ten years from today.” “What are you playing at?” she said aloud.

Suddenly, his voice called out behind her, familiar and impatient: “Do you want the bloody picture or not? Turn around, for crying out loud!”

She dropped the rose and the card and ran toward the sound of his voice; at the same time the flash of the camera blinded her for a fraction of a second.

He looked at her, confused. “What’s wrong with you? Why were you running and why are you crying? If we don’t head back soon, it’ll be too dark to find the car. And stop hugging me, what’s gotten into you?”

She said nothing. She only took his arm, resting her head on his shoulder as they walked back toward their vehicle beyond the small hill.

She would tell the story to her grandchildren every Halloween, and every Halloween he would claim she had made it up. Yet, quietly, he would put away his autumn jacket, in which he had found, years earlier, an old black card and a plastic bag with a dry rose he never knew the origin of. Nor did they ever return to the little bed and breakfast in the highlands where they had spent that Halloween weekend before they got married fifty years earlier.