When the Lizard People Come

     I told my dad that I wanted to get the new reptile costume for trick-or-treating this year.

     I had seen two people wearing lizard costumes last year, and wanted to get one because they looked cool. I never saw one from up close, but they looked real. The scales were slightly different shades of green and brown. And when light hit the scales, you can see that they cast shadows over each other. Sometimes, they had a glistening look in sunlight.

     Dad told me no. “They weren’t costumes.’’

     “You mean they’re lizards that walk on two feet?’’ I asked, thinking my father was playing a joke.

     “Yes,’’ dad said. “They’re faster, stronger, and smarter than we are.’’

     “Lizards?’’

     My dad said, “Yes. They aren’t people. Look at their legs. Did you ever see someone with legs that muscular?

     “If it’s a person walking, you can see their leg jiggle when they take a step. Because of the fat on our bodies. But those things don’t jiggle. There’s no fat on them.’’

     I never took notice. I was 8 years old.

     You’re not supposed to go near them, my dad told me. He said that they don’t like humans and they’ll hurt you if you’re getting too close to them.

     He said that he got close to one a few years ago. It said, “Get away.’’ And when my dad didn’t move away fast enough, the lizard man said, “I will kill you.’’

     We saw them walking in the streets on Halloween. They were going from one house to the next, placing little plastic, orange pumpkins on front porches. I noticed there was candy in the pumpkin on my porch, but my dad wouldn’t let me go out to get it.

     We watched in the window. Three of our neighbor’s children ran out to pick up the pumpkins, then ran back inside.

     I wanted to go, get mine. Dad grabbed me by the arm.

     “Come on. They got theirs.’’

     “No,’’ he said loud enough to hear through the whole house. Then he pointed out the window and said, “watch.’’

     Each of the three houses were marked. The missing pumpkins were a message to the lizard people. Four of them went into one of the houses, and they walked out with the kid who picked up the pumpkin. The child fought, but the lizard people were too strong. The parents never came out of the house to get their kid back.

     We watched them move to the next house, but our vision was blocked with a holographic-type scene of a mountain with a lake projected onto the window. My dad turned to me and said, “See how smart they are?’’ He told me to go look out the other window. I saw a kid under the arm of a lizard person. Then the mountain lake scene covered my window.

     I was confused and scared. I had a lot of questions. I asked my dad how could the lizard people do that?

     “They’re allowed to. That’s why they only come around at Halloween time. I suppose this year was our turn.’’

     “Do they eat the kids?’’

     “I don’t know. They might. I heard they sell them to rich people all over the world.’’

     I saw lizard people after that. And I heard new stories of people encountering them on other holidays: Easter, Rosh Hashanah, Ramadan, All Saints Day. The most shocking was when they showed up in New Jersey on Christmas Day a few years ago. They took only one kid, but everyone accepted it to be normal.

     It’s still scary, the evil that we allow.