The Halloween Tree

by Ray Bradbury

Pipkin, whose arm around your shoulder, and secret whisper of great doings this day, protected you from the world. Pipkin.

Will you dive into the dark ocean, boys? Will you fly in the dark sky?”

“I don’t feel so good. But—I had to come—wait for me!”

Memories, that’s what ghosts are, but apemen didn’t know that.

They could drive away wolves but not memories, not ghosts.

“And you began to live longer and have more time, and space out the deaths, and put away fear, and at last have only special days in each year when you thought of night and dawn and spring and autumn and being born and being dead.

and a great wondrous happy tiredness gathering in their eyelids and arms and feet, but not wanting to go yet.

hating to go in, wanting to wring the last dear drop from his favorite holiday in all the year,

Mr. Moundshroud, will we EVER stop being afraid of nights and death?

When you reach the stars, boy, yes, and live there forever, all the fears will go, and Death himself will die.