I don't believe I almost forgot Halloween.  I was all set with my October column, a contemplation on the Brooklyn court system  -- a scary thought within itself -- when it occurred to me that this month, the tenth month of the year, complete with wailing wolves and the harvest moon, contains my all-time favorite holiday.  So I must write about Halloween.  Halloween in Brooklyn, of course.

As expected, this holiday can be found in facets throughout the borough every day of the year.  Forget the haunted houses.  There are plenty of eerie or dismal near-landmarks right in your very own  neighborhood.  Like the boarded-up temple on 23rd Avenue in Bensonhurst that somehow looks still in use.  Or the abandoned subway tracks running under 18th Avenue near 49th Street.  I buried a pet rat named ChooChoo over there, so I know for a fact that place is haunted.  (For the record, I also buried a pet rat named Finny Poly Art in the water where Ceasar's Bay used to be, so that place is haunted, too.)  But nothing beats the all-time notorious Halloween-like haunt this borough has to offer: the subway station at 9th Street and 4th Avenue.  It has all the components every Halloween location should.  A transfer point for the F line to the N or R train, this station has: about 200 flights of steep stairs, adding to the trepidation, fear and danger factor; a haunted G train which shuttles back and forth through the middle track, never seeming to go anywhere and never having anyone on board, contributing to the mystique; and the penetrating stench of urine, a fine addition to the ultimate sense of over-all horror.  The horror.

I also noticed neighborhood prop and novelty shops popping up  specializing in this ghoulish holiday.  A storefront with a crypt door entrance appeared on 3rd Avenue in Bay Ridge recently.  Although you can see the skeletons, severed limbs, mechanical rats and spider webs from the  window, I have yet to check out the interior of this creature chamber.  Zak's fun house on 86th Street used to have an excellent array of   Halloween items: fake blood, vampire teeth, green goo that looked like it stained that my boyfriend wouldn't let me buy.  At one point the line to rent costumes from this place was so long it snaked down the blocks of Bensonhurst, reminiscent of the days when people would actually attend sold-out movies on opening night (hence making them sold out).  Sadly Zak's has gone the way of Poe's fateful House of Usher and has since disappeared, although you can still find them listed in certain Yellow Pages.  For everyday, useless and junky items you can simply sashay down 86th Street, taking note where Zak's once stood in all its glory, and hit one of the 99-cent stores.  The most futile items I have purchased to date include a full-body pair of underwear which I thought was a tank top (this item could easily double as a Halloween costume) and a $1.99 foot roller massage board that squeaks to the point of being useless if you actually use it, driving you insane.  I have since been employing it as a platform to air out my wrist weights when I come back from the gym.

And who needs costume shops when you have mounds of neighborhood flea markets (see column on Summer Fun).  These jumbles of joy sell goods you would never wear on a job interview, never even mind to mow the lawn.  The funniest item I saw was what had to be a size 55 double-D bra hanging on a fence at a churchyard sale in Sheepshead Bay.  More versatile than a mere costume, you could use this tent-bra as a parachute!  St. Finbar's regular rummage sale on Bath Avenue recently blessed me with three whole tables mounded with used clothes for sale.  I could fill a whole bag -- a BIG Marshall's bag that could fit small lawn chairs -- for one dollar.  Less than the cost of two cups of coffee.  Boy, did I take them up on that offer.   Besides finding a few things I would actually wear, I fell victim to my bane and also bought a ton of items I love but do not even fit me.  I am not sure if I am under the illusion that I will find those Alice in Wonderland pills and drink or what, but the clothing items will continue not to fit me even if I gain 600 pounds or my bones shrink to half their diameter.  At least these items weren't as bad as the size four antique shoes I bought that I actually DID try to wear to high school one day.  Those, I believe, are still rotting in my mother's basement.  May they rest in peace.

Speaking of resting in peace, since one of Brooklyn's monikers is, in fact, the Borough of Churches, it only goes to reason that it could be subtitled: the Borough of Cemeteries. Cemeteries and Halloween go together better than tofu and the garbage can.  Greenwood Cemetery in Sunset Park is by far the largest.  I heard you can even see it from space.  Buried there are the likes of Mae West, Louis Comfort Tiffany, Alice Lee Roosevelt, "Boss" Tweed, Samuel Morse and Henry Ward Beecher.  My favorite burial ground is Washington Cemetery in Bensonhurst which is sliced neatly in half by Bay Parkway.  On the Bay Parkway bus or the F train in that area you get a striking view through its grandeur on either side as you ride.  There are also a smattering of smaller cemeteries -- usually by churchyards, not surprisingly -- which have its share of allure and local lore.  In fact, I almost attended a tour of one on 16th Avenue until I heard the guide was not going to tell us about haunted souls that scour the neighborhood but rather give us dry, factual details regarding  Revolutionary War heroes.

And there you have it.  October 31 in Brooklyn.  Although a far (howling) cry from comprehensive, you get the general idea that Halloween, not unlike  happiness, is a state of mind. You can celebrate it some way every day...as long as you are looking.  Happy Halloween.

More of Ryn's Halloween illustrations.

Read Ryn's poems on the subject: 5th Grade Halloween ...
Superstition ...
My Brother's Halloween ...
Raggedy Ann