Title:  Matty's Big Adventure
Author:  Vickie Moseley
Summary:  Trick or treating will never be the 
same for Matthew Scully.  Written for Virtual 
Season 15 Halloween Special.
Category:  X, VS15
Rating:  general audience
Two weeks exclusive with VS15.
Disclaimer:  no copyright infringement intended.
Author's Notes:  Big Thanks to Lisa for quick 
beta!

Matty's Big Adventure

Maggie Scully's residence
Baltimore, MD
October 20, 2007

"The water was up to my armpits, it was smelly 
and icky and slimey.  I kept trying to get hold, 
but I couldn't.  Finally, when I was able to get 
the lever pulled, the gate came crashing down 
and sliced the flukeman in half!"

Matt Scully's eyes were as big as saucers as he 
sat in rapt attention, listening to his favorite 
'uncle' regale him with past exploits.

"Did you drown, Uncle Fox?" the ten-year old 
asked anxiously.

"Well, if I'd drowned, I wouldn't be here right 
now, would I, sport," Mulder replied, ruffling the 
boy's reddish brown hair.

"Wow, you've seen everything, Uncle Fox," Matt 
whispered in awe.

"May I remind Uncle 'Fox' that he was not alone 
in all his endeavors," Scully intoned from the 
dining room.  ". . . and there is a large bag of 
trash with his name on it waiting for him in the 
kitchen," she added, arms crossed and a 
bemused expression dancing in her eyes.

"Duty calls, sport," Mulder sighed and pulled 
himself off the sofa to go do his 'manly' duties.  
As he passed his partner she lightly jabbed at his 
arm.  

"Uncle Fox now, is it?" she asked quietly, so the 
young man in the living room couldn't overhear.

"He told me the kids at school thought it was 
weird to call your uncle by his last name.  I told 
him it was OK to call me Fox."

"Everybody on the planet," she muttered, eyes 
toward the ceiling.  "Except me."

"Hey, you can call me Fox," he crooned low in 
her ear. At her challenging look he smiled and 
leaned into nuzzle her neck. "In the bedroom, up 
against the wall in the hallway, when we're using 
the dining room table for purposes other than 
holding plates and silverware -- "

"Garbage.  Under the sink.  Now!" she 
commanded, pushing him away and holding back 
her smile.  She smacked him on the flank has he 
sauntered into the kitchen.

"So, I don't know what to do," Tara was saying to 
Maggie as he approached the sink and was 
pulling out the trash basket secreted beneath it.

"She's frightened by anyone in a mask?" Maggie 
asked.  "Oh, Fox, could you take the recycle bin 
out, too?"

"Sure, Mom.  It's in the pantry?"

"Yes, thank you."  She turned back to her 
daughter-in-law.  "Well, if she gets that 
frightened, you can't take her out with you on 
Halloween."

"I know, but that means no trick or treating for 
Matty," Tara replied.

"Oh dear.  He's had his costume picked out since 
Memorial Day," Maggie said mournfully.  "He's 
not going to be happy about this."

Mulder stopped trying to juggle both the bag of 
trash and the blue plastic recycle bin.  "Why can't 
Matty go trick or treating?" 

"Claire has developed a deep fear of all things 
Halloween.  We were in the pharmacy the other 
day and she was running over to the toys 
section, like she always does. They had a display 
of this life-sized animatronic zombie -- he 
removes his own head.  Well, it makes a growling 
noise and she looked up, saw the head go up -- 
I'm afraid we sent some of the pharmacy 
customers into cardiac arrest with her blood-
curdling screams.  I had to take her out of the 
store and couldn't even go back inside to buy the 
gallon of milk I had gone there to get."

"Oh boy.  That's rough.  Poor little pumpkin," 
Mulder sighed.  "But hey, why can't Dana and I 
take Matty trick or treating?"

"Um, Mulder," his partner said from the doorway.  
"Aren't you forgetting something?"  At his very 
blank expression she tilted her head.  "I'm on the 
opening panel at the forensics seminar in Boston 
October 30 through November 1 -- and you 
promised to stay out of trouble this year."

He rolled his eyes upward.  "Scully, how much 
trouble could I get into with a 10 year old boy 
trick or treating?"

All three women turned and stared at him with 
equally disbelieving expressions.

"Ah, c'mon now!  I'm not that bad!" he 
exclaimed.

"Fox, what about the Halloween you were bitten 
by a black widow spider in your own home?" 
Maggie asked.

"Or the Halloween you guys were headed back 
home after a case and ran into a kidnapping -- 
that was an overnight stay at the hospital as I 
remember," Tara added.

"I was treated and released," he objected.

"And then there was last year at the old 
sanitarium in Louisville," Maggie said, shaking 
her finger at both her daughter and her partner.

"Hey, that was Dana in the hospital, I was -- "

"Treated and released," both Maggie and Tara 
said mockingly in unison.

"Tara, you don't trust me with your son?" he 
implored.  His hurt expression spoke volumes.

The young woman sighed.  "Mulder, I trust you 
with my son's very life.  It's you I'm worried 
about."

"It's pretty hard to get into too much trouble in 
this neighborhood, Tara," Maggie finally 
admitted.  "If they stay in this subdivision, 
maybe they can go to the mall afterward.  Quite 
a few of the restaurants have free kids meals for 
children who come in dressed in costume.  It can 
be a 'boys night out'."

"It's supposed to be cold that night, too," Mulder 
added.  "You don't expect Mom to walk all over 
town in the cold."

"Dana, what do you think?" Tara asked, chewing 
on her bottom lip.

"Yeah, 'Mom', can I go trick or treating with 
Matty," Mulder asked, arms folded, thoroughly 
disgusted that no one seemed to be treating him 
as an adult.

Scully huffed a breath.  "Oh, all right.  I guess I 
can trust you to go around the neighborhood and 
gather candy.  But Mulder, you will bring your 
cell phone and if you see anything suspicious -- "

"Call the police!" Maggie, Tara and Scully said in 
unison.

Mulder hefted the garbage bag and recycle bin 
again.  "I get absolutely no respect in this 
family," he grumbled as he made his way out the 
door. 

Halloween Night
5:45 pm

Matty was bouncing on the balls of his feet, 
watching out the window of his grandmother's 
living room.  He let out a whoop when he saw the 
red SUV pull into the driveway.  "Uncle Fox is 
here, Grandma, Uncle Fox is here!"

"I see that, Matthew.  Now come here so I can 
try your cape on you."  The boy ran over to her 
chair and stood at attention as she fastened a 
flowing black cape about his shoulders.  "There, 
much better now that I shortened it.  It won't 
drag on the ground or trip you when you're 
walking.  Do you have your flashlight?"

"Right here," announced the short 'Count 
Dracula' as he dug through his black silk treats 
bag and brought forth a small flashlight.  "Mom 
says it's just like the ones Auntie Dana and Uncle 
Fox use," he said proudly.

"Use or lose?" Mulder quipped as he came in the 
front door.  "Hey, I thought I was picking up 
Matty Scully here.  All I see is a vampire."

"It's me, Uncle Fox!" Matty exclaimed excitedly, 
and somewhat mumbled.  "I just have on fake 
teeth and blood on my chin."

"The transformation is remarkable," Mulder 
noted, smiling with approval.

"Costume adjustments are complete," Maggie 
said with a wink.  "I think you're ready to go."

"So I'm to take him back home to Tara, right?  
That was the plan last time I talked to her, but it 
keeps changing."

"Oh, yes, well, actually, come back here after you 
finish the neighborhood.  We're to take him 'out 
of costume' and then if you don't mind, you can 
drop him off on your way home.  I had to keep 
his cape over here this week because any time 
little Claire sees it she becomes hysterical," 
Maggie told him.

"She'll get over it.  By next year she'll be out 
there with Matty and the rest of the kids," Mulder 
assured her, but he still wondered.  Maybe the 
events of the balloonfest had affected the little 
four-year old more than anyone had considered.

Willows of the Lake Subdivision
Halloween night
7:30 pm

"Hey, Mattster, what say we call it a night, huh, 
sport?" Mulder pleaded as he studied his watch.

"Uncle Fox -- there's a whole 'nother block left," 
Matthew whined back.

"Yeah, but it's gettin' pretty cold out here.  I can 
see my breath."  Not to mention, not feel my 
toes, Mulder thought ruefully.  "I promised your 
Aunt Dana I'd be home when she called at 9."

"You got your cell phone," Matty replied, rushing 
off to another house with the porch light on.  
Mulder stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets 
and stamped his feet.  His ears were tingling 
from the cold.  Frost bite.  That would piss Scully 
off to no end and likewise, he would never hear 
the end of it, either.  He sighed deeply as Matty 
returned from yet another candy bonanza.

"Butterfingers -- the big ones!" the boy crowed.  
"Grandma's neighborhood is the bestest!"

"Yup, I think you're right there.  But Matt, your 
bag's startin' to bulge at the seams."

"I gotta get enough for me and Claire," the boy 
replied reasonably.  "Jest 'coz she's scared of the 
masks don't mean she wants to miss out on the 
candy.  I promised her half of everything I get -- 
except the Snickers, of course.  I'm keepin' 
those."

"Oh, of course," Mulder answered, trying hard to 
hide his amusement.

"But she gets all the gummy bears.  'Specially 
the girly ones."

"Absolutely," Mulder agreed.  "The girly ones 
taste funny, anyway."  The sarcastic tone to his 
voice was completely lost on the ambitious 10-
year old.

Finally, they came to the end of the block.  
Mulder heaved a relieved sigh.  "Well, that's that.  
Let's head back to Grandma's house -- "

"Wait, Uncle Fox!  There's another house," Matty 
objected.

All Mulder could make out was the dense growth 
of trees that marked the end of the subdivision.  
"Matt, that's just part of the forest preserve," 
Mulder pointed out.

"No, see the driveway?" Matt said, motioning 
toward a gravel path.  "And look -- you can see 
the lights through the trees.  It even has a 
mailbox!"  Sure enough, a mailbox stood quiet 
sentry next to the path.

"Matt, that house has to be a quarter of a mile 
down that road.  I really doubt they're expecting 
any trick or treaters," Mulder reasoned.

"That's always where you get the most stuff, 
Uncle Fox," Matty countered.  "See, the people 
who live in those kinda houses buy all this stuff 
and then no kids come.  So if any kid does show 
up, they give 'em tons of candy!  It's like those 
guys in California -- the gold diggers!"

"Prospectors," Mulder corrected, stifling a 
chuckle.

The path was pockmarked and it made walking 
treacherous, but Matty insisted on holding the 
flashlight.  A couple of times Mulder worried that 
a twisted ankle might be added to the impending 
doom of frost bite, but he managed to stay on his 
feet.

It was quiet in amongst the trees.  The leaves 
rustled and blew in the wind, creating little dust 
devils that pranced before them.  Halfway to the 
house, Matt's bag grew too heavy and Mulder 
ended up carrying it the rest of the way.

"You stand here, Uncle Fox," Matty informed the 
agent and even went so far as to physically 
position him at the end of a long broken 
sidewalk.

"You sure you want me so far back?" Mulder 
asked with concern.

From a pocket of his jeans, Matty withdrew 
another smaller plastic trick or treat bag.  "Yeah, 
I'm sure," he said with a smile.  "The idea is that 
I don't want 'em to see my treat bag is full," he 
explained, with infallible 10-year old logic.

"Oh, got it," Mulder agreed with a bemused grin.  
"Go on, it's cold and this is the last house -- no 
negotiation.  Right?"

"Oh, OK," the boy agreed reluctantly.  

"Go on," Mulder encouraged, waving toward the 
front porch of the old house.

Mulder regarded the house closely.  It had been a 
beauty in its day, but that day was long past.  
The two-story house had all the intricate 
gingerbread molding of truly fine craftsmanship, 
but now the clapboard was worn and detaching in 
places.  The roof of the porch sagged 
precariously and the Victorian style porch light 
was missing one of its panes of glass, showing 
the naked bulb inside.  The agent couldn't help 
but wonder if maybe it was a 'real nice fixer 
upper' that had come on hard times due to the 
current housing market and tight credit.

Still, the doorbell worked.  Mulder could hear it 
plainly all the way at the end of the sidewalk.  
After a few seconds of waiting, the door opened.  
Mulder could only see shadows, but he could 
plainly see Matthew holding out his empty treat 
bag and nodding with anticipation.  

Suddenly, the unthinkable happened.  Mulder 
watched in horror as Matty stepped into the 
house and the door slammed shut behind him.

Bad, this is bad, the agent's instincts screamed at 
him as he ran up the sidewalk.  The concrete was 
more precarious than the road leading up to the 
house and Mulder tripped on a large cement 
'iceberg', dropping to his knees hard.  He 
groaned and grabbed his ankle, looking back at 
the house.

"Matty!  Matt, come out, sport -- we have to get 
going!" Mulder yelled, hoping his voice didn't 
sound as desperate as he was feeling.  He didn't 
want to scare the boy if there was no danger, but 
he wanted whoever was in the house to know for 
certain that an adult was nearby and in control.

"Matt, c'mon!" Mulder shouted again.  He 
scrambled to his feet, ankle protesting all the 
way and pounded up the steps to the porch.  
Reaching the door, he latched onto the doorknob 
and turned it hard.  Nothing happened, the door 
was locked.  He hammered on the doorbell and 
threw his shoulder against the door.  Solid oak, 
nicely aged, resisted his efforts and bruised his 
upper arm.

He pounded on the door, now frantically.  He 
could hear nothing inside the old house, no 
footsteps, no talking.  "Matty, if you can hear me, 
yell!" he directed through the slim crack where 
the door met the molding.  "Matty, it's OK, sport.  
I'll get you out of there."

Mulder moved quickly over to the big picture 
window next to the door.  With little thought, he 
brought his elbow up and jammed it into the 
pane of glass.  The window shattered, sending a 
cascade of dirty shards down his pants leg.  
Mulder hit a few more panes until he had enough 
room to squeeze through.  His leg caught on the 
saber-like shards embedded in the glazing, but 
he took no notice.

Inside the house was absolutely still.  He shined 
his light around the room to find only dustcovers 
on the furniture and a thick coating of cobwebs in 
the archways.  Running over to the door, he 
flashed the light to his feet.  There were no 
footprints by the door except those he made as 
he turned around.

Matty and whoever had answered the door had 
vanished.



The lady at the door was pretty -- as pretty as 
his own mom.  She smiled at Matthew.  "Oh, my, 
at last.  Come in, come in," she beaconed.  "I 
had put the candy bowl away, I was afraid I 
wasn't getting any trick or treaters this year."

"It's our last house," Matty explained with a 
shrug.  

"Well, I hope it's the best one," the lady smiled 
brighter.

While she was away getting the candy, Matty 
looked around.  The house was really nice.  It 
was old filled with lots of neat stuff.  Antiques, 
his grandma would call them.  He didn't see a 
television or any toys, so he guessed the lady 
didn't have kids.

She was gone quite a while and Matty's curiosity 
got the better of him.  He walked over to a long 
table and looked at all the stuff there.  He 
realized he was wrong; she did have toys -- just 
not ones that I had ever been allowed to play 
with.  There were old style trucks, one that said 
'milk' on the side and had doors that opened in 
the back.  He could see little wooden bottles 
packed in tiny boxes inside the truck.  There was 
a fire truck, but it wasn't the neon green of the 
Fairfield Fire Department.  This one was red and 
had horses in front!

"You can pick that up, if you like," the lady said 
from behind him.  It startled Matty and he 
twisted around, almost dropping his bag.  "It's 
OK.  I don't mind if you look at them."

"This is really cool," Matty said appraising the 
collection.  "What's this one?" he asked, picking 
up a car unlike any he'd ever seen.  

"That's a Studs Bearcat," the woman said 
proudly.  "That was his favorite," she added with 
a big smile.

"You have a kid?" Matty asked.

"Oh, yes.  I have a son.  But he's not with me 
now," she said wistfully.  "I hope he gets to come 
home soon."

"Oh, divorced," Matty reasoned.

The woman laughed.  "Oh, no, nothing like that.  
He just got older and moved away."

"He's a grown up!" Matty exclaimed, proud he 
had figured it out.

"Yes, something like that," the woman said sadly.  
She looked toward the staircase that led to the 
upper floor.  "Would you like to see his room?  
I've kept it just as it was when he was your age."

"Sure," Matty agreed willingly.  All thought of his 
uncle outside had completely disappeared from 
his mind.



Mulder opened the door easily from the inside 
and stepped out onto the porch.  It hit him.  Time 
to call for back up.  He grabbed his cell and 
punched 9-1-1.

No service.

He cursed loudly and dropped the useless piece 
of technology back in his pocket.  His mind told 
him to go back to the subdivision, find a house 
and call for help.  But his heart wouldn't let him 
leave.  He knew Matt was somewhere in that 
house.

He stood on the porch for several heartbeats, 
glaring at the broken sidewalk and the path 
beyond.  Go get help -- it's what Scully would tell 
him to do.

No, that wasn't entirely true.  There had been 
plenty of times when they'd been in danger that 
Scully was the one to forego leaving for trying to 
save his sorry ass.

His decision made, he turned back around and 
entered the house.  Matthew was there, 
somewhere.  He just had to find him.

The bottom floor held nothing of interest.  There 
was a sofa and a few tables in the parlor, a 
dining room that held a long table but no chairs 
and a kitchen that seriously needed updating.  

He found a small bathroom off the kitchen but 
the sink was hanging off the wall and the 
medicine cabinet was missing, leaving an 
unsightly hole and exposed studs.  

Everywhere he went he found no footprints, no 
sign that anyone had been in the house for 
years.  His worry gnawed at him as he finally 
climbed the stairs to the second story.



"Wow!" Matty exclaimed as the lady opened the 
door to the room at the far end of the long 
upstairs hallway.  "Is that a real train set?"

"Um hum," the woman smiled and nodded.  
"Lionel's finest," she said proudly.

"Does it work?" Matty asked, still in awe.  

The train set ran the length of one wall and stood 
on a platform that was as wide as a twin bed.  It 
contained several sets of tracks and all around 
the tracks were small villages and pastoral 
scenes.  There was even a river with a bridge.

"Sure it works," she said calmly.  She walked 
over to the platform and flipped a switch under 
the table.  Two of the trains sprang to life, 
chugging along the tracks.  They were headed in 
the opposite directions so that they passed one 
another twice as the looped around the platform 
universe.

"This is great!  Man, I wish I had one like this," 
Matty said with glee.  "Hey, is that a draw 
bridge?"

"Why, yes it is," the woman answered.  "Would 
you like to work it?"

Matty licked his lips.  "Yeah, sure," he said 
timidly.  She took his hand and led him to the far 
end of the platform where there was a series of 
toggles.  

"You push this up when you want the bridge to 
go up and then when the train approaches, you 
push it back down," she instructed.  She gave it a 
quick test and he nodded that he understood.

"This is way cool.  Wait till I tell Uncle Fox about 
this!" Matty said happily.  Suddenly, his young 
face took on a panic stricken look.  "Oh gosh!  
Uncle Fox!  I left him outside!"

"It's OK, I'm sure he's still waiting for you, dear," 
the woman said soothingly.  "It's cold out there.  
How about we go down to the kitchen and fix 
your uncle a nice cup of cocoa?"

"I don' know," Matty said fearfully, biting his lip.

"It's awful cold," she prodded.  "It would warm 
you both up on your walk back to the main road."

"But he's been waiting so long already," Matty 
said worriedly.

"Then he'll definitely need something to warm 
him up, right?" countered the woman.

Matty couldn't argue with that logic.  "OK, I 
guess.  But we need to hurry," he admonished.

"I'll do my best."

"Cocoa only takes a minute forty in the 
microwave," Matty said casually as they walked 
back down the steps.

"Well, it takes a little longer on the stove, but I'm 
sure we'll have it in a jiffy," she answered kindly.



The stairs creaked noisily, shattering his already 
jagged nerves.  Mulder stopped in mid step and 
steadied himself with a hand against the railing.  
When he lifted it, his fingers came away coated 
with years of neglect.  The wall to his right was 
marred at precise intervals with bright colored 
squares of the original wall paper, places once 
covered with framed pictures of loved ones, he 
had no doubt.

The top step sagged under his foot and he held 
his breath, hoping it would hold his weight.  It 
did and he was able to ascend to the hallway.  
There were three doors on one side of the hall, 
four on the other, but one was narrow and 
appeared to be nothing more than a closet or a 
pantry.  He tried each door in turn, shining his 
flashlight into the rooms.  

There wasn't a stick of furniture in the upstairs 
until he reached the last door in the hall.  
Opening this door, he found a platform -- too 
long for a bed and too wide to be a suitable 
dining table.  It was crudely made of bare two by 
fours and he wondered at its purpose.  He was 
about to leave the room and go back down stairs 
when a hand landed on his shoulder, causing him 
to drop his flashlight.

"May I ask what you're doing here?" came a 
voice from the darkness.  The hand remained on 
his shoulder, but Mulder reached down and it 
released him so he could pick up his light.  When 
he stood up again, and directed the light toward 
the other person, he found himself staring at a 
man at least twice his age.

"Again, may I ask what you're doing here?" the 
man inquired.

"I'm looking for my nephew," Mulder said tersely.  
"He was trick or treating and someone in this 
house has hidden him here."

The man looked Mulder up and down and sighed.  
"It's all right.  She'll let him go in a bit."  The old 
man turned and left the room with Mulder 
standing dumbstruck behind him.

Mulder quickly gain his senses.  "Wait a minute!  
You know who has Matthew?"

The man kept walking down the hall to the steps.  
"Ay-yup," he answered.

"Who?  Where is he?  It's a federal offense to 
kidnap -- "

"Hey, nobody said anything about kidnapping," 
the old man intoned with a shake of his head.  
"She wouldn't hurt a soul.  She's jest showin' him 
around."

"Showing him -- " Mulder sputtered.  "Look, I 
think you better explain yourself.  I'm a Special 
Agent with the FBI and I demand to know -- "

They had reached the bottom of the stairs and 
the old man look at Mulder with abject pity.  
"Won't do ya no good, being from the FBI.  She'll 
let him go in a bit.  You jest gotta calm down and 
wait fer her to be done."

"If she harms a hair on that boy's head -- you 
are an accomplice and you'll go down!" Mulder 
shouted.  "I will see you all the way to the prison 
gates!"

"Calm down, calm down," the old man chastised 
him.  "She wouldn't hurt him!  I know her."

"Who is she?" Mulder bit out through tightly 
gritted teeth.

"She's my mother," the old man sighed.



In the kitchen, Matty was staring wide-eyed at 
the woman by the stove.  "Gee, you make cocoa 
just like my grandma," he told the woman.

She smiled down at him and reached out to ruffle 
his hair, then dropped her hand before touching 
him with a bittersweet expression on her face.  
"My son loves his cocoa," she said and turned 
quickly, hiding her face.  She cleared her throat 
before speaking again.  "Would you mind getting 
the cups?  They're in the cupboard over there, 
next to the ice box."

"What's the ice box?" Matty asked, confused.

"Oh, sorry, it's there, the big machine over there 
-- "  She was pointing to a very old style 
refrigerator.

"Wow, does this thing still work?" Matty asked.  
"Where's the water and ice part?"

She shook her head with amusement.  "The 
water is here in the sink and the ice is in the top 
of the ice box," she explained patiently.

"Huh," Matty grunted.  But after a moment, he 
found the cupboard and the cups.  "Three?" he 
asked.

"Oh, no, thank you.  Just two.  One for you and 
one for your uncle."

Matty brought the cups over to the counter next 
to the stove.

"So, is your father in the war?" the woman 
asked, stirring the pan of warming milk and 
chocolate powder and sugar.

"No, my dad died," Matty said quietly.

"Your mom -- "  The woman coughed and started 
again.  "Is your mom still living?" she asked, 
though her voice was strained.

"Oh, yeah, sure.  My little sister is scared of 
Halloween.  So my Uncle Fox is taking me 
around."

"That's very nice of your uncle, to take you trick 
or treating.  Would you like marshmallows in 
your cocoa?" she asked.  When Matty wasn't 
looking she quickly wiped at the corner of her 
eye.

"I would.  Uncle Fox likes 'em but sometimes 
Aunt Dana won't let him have 'em.  She makes 
sure he doesn't eat too much fat and sugar."

The woman laughed.  "Well that is a woman's 
job, to take care of her family."  Carefully, she 
poured the hot liquid from the pan into the mugs 
and then reached into a canister at the back of 
the counter and pulled out four fat, fluffy 
marshmallows, dropping two in each cup.  "There 
you go," she said.  "Can you carry them without 
spilling?"

"Sure, I'm good at that," Matty assured her.  
"Thanks, uh, -- hey, what's your name anyway?"

"Helen," she said.  "My name is Helen."

"Oh, mine's Matt," he replied with a nod.  "Well, I 
better get going.  Uncle Fox is probably 
wondering where I am."

"Matt, before you leave, I forgot to give you your 
treat!  Here, let me get it from the pantry."  She 
stepped over to a small room off the kitchen and 
returned with a little paper bag just like the ones 
Matty had for his lunch bag.  "I'll just slip it in 
your pocket so you don't have so much to carry."

"Thanks, Helen," he smiled up at her.

"Can you find your way out?  I have to clean up 
the pan," she explained, nodding toward the sink.

"Sure."  Matt cautiously moved to the door of the 
kitchen, mindful of the precious cocoa in his 
hands.  He stopped at the door.  "Hey, um, 
Helen?  Happy Halloween!"

She smiled at him, and this time he saw the tear 
tracks in her eyes.  "Happy Halloween, Matt.  And 
if you see my son, please tell him I love him."

"Yeah, sure," Matty said, a little confused.  "No 
problem."  He turned then and walked to the 
door of the house.  He was just trying to figure 
out how to hold both cups and open the door 
when the door opened on its own.  On the front 
porch were his uncle and a really old man.

"Hi, Uncle Fox!  Look what the nice lady made for 
us!" Matty exclaimed, nodding down at the cups.

"Matthew!" Mulder gasped, almost causing the 
boy to spill the cocoa.  He took the cups, put 
them on the ground and then hugged the boy for 
all he was worth.  "Matty, you scared me.  
Please, don't ever do that again!  I was so afraid 
-- if anything were to ever happen to you -- "

"It's OK, Uncle Fox.  Helen wouldn't hurt me.  
She's nice.  You'll like her.  C'mon, you can meet 
her."  The boy turned back to the doorway to 
enter the house but stopped, stunned.  Where 
there had once been a warm and welcoming 
home there was now nothing but darkness and 
cobwebs.  "Hey, wait a minute!" he demanded.  
"Where did the insides of the house go?"

"I think you have something you wanted to 
explain," Mulder sneered at the old man.

9:00 pm

"So Helen was a ghost?" Matty asked as they 
walked back toward Maggie's house.

Mulder pulled on his lip.  "I guess you could call 
her that, yes," he admitted.

"But she wasn't scary and she let me play with 
the trains and she made us cocoa with 
marshmallows," Matty pointed out, shaking his 
head.   

There was nothing Mulder could say to that.  
They walked for several moments in silence.

"It this what you and Aunt Dana do all the time, 
Uncle Fox?" the boy piped up as they approached 
the block where Maggie's house stood warm and 
inviting, the porch light still gleaming in the 
darkness.

"Pretty much, yeah," Mulder replied.  "Does it 
scare you?"

Matty thought about that for a minute.  "Nope, 
not really."  Then he looked up at Mulder and 
smiled.  "She was really nice, Uncle Fox.  And the 
house was really cool.  I think she was just lonely 
for her little boy."

"Well, she died when he was pretty young.  Mr. 
Andrews said she died suddenly when he was ten 
years old.  So I guess maybe you reminded her a 
little of her own little boy."

"She wanted me to tell him that she loves him.  I 
forgot to do that," Matty said and started back 
toward the woods.

Mulder caught his cape and tugged him back 
beside him.  "I'm pretty sure he knows that, 
sport."

Matty nodded.  "Like I know my dad still loves 
me," he said wisely.  

"So, what are we going to tell your mom and 
grandma?" Mulder asked.

"Just that we found some neat houses and lost 
track of time," Matty said with a firm nod.  "I 
don't think they could handle the real story." 

"Me neither, sport.  It'll be our little secret."

the end