And he was a boy.

I hadn't given out candy in a long time.

Someone knocked on the door. "Do you want to get it, Rainbow?"

I opened the door. A boy of about 8 appeared and said "Trick or treat?"

I made eye-contact with him and then smiled gently.

"Oh!" I said, realizing he was waiting for the candy!

I turned around and saw (for the first time) a wooden box filled with all different kinds of chips. I felt the boy's gaze following me as I picked it up, turned back to him, and held out the box, letting him have his pick.

He seemed a little mesmerized. I looked down at the chips, then up at him.

He looked down at the chips, then up at me, then back down at the chips. He picked a single small bag of red Doritos out of the box, smiled, and said "Thank you."

"Cheers," I said.

I shut the door behind the kind boy and walked back to the kitchen, satisfied with the interaction.

"Did you even talk to them, Rainbow?!"

"Yes," I said, smiling gently; "I did."

That was the one encounter.

The rest of the time, The Autist stood on the back porch or the driveway, smoking and drinking wine and listening to music in one ear, while singing along to the music with near-perfect rhythm and pitch, while tricking with spinning a fidget spinner in near-perfect time-synchronization; being a part of the set - a sullen vampire looming, mixing the music playing in one ear with the music playing in his head and letting that mix together with the sound of children's smiles as they followed him; and taking fuzzy dark pictures with his eyes.

~ Bow