Staff writer Kay Neufeld pleads with a group of visitors to stay in the graveyard forever while acting in the Farmington Fright Nights haunted attractions Friday, Oct. 29. Photo courtesy of Leslie Kaut

FARMINGTON — I have an extensive bucket list: I want to learn how to shred a magnificent guitar solo; to have tea with Stevie Nicks in her garden; to learn how to play poker; to host a session on Maine’s community radio station, WERU. Some of them are doable, some not so much.

Acting in a haunted house was one item that was absent from that list. And until recently, I never realized it belonged on there all along.

I was invited to act in Farmington’s premier haunted-attractions event, Fright Nights. This was its grand return (after a year off because of COVID-19) for their most extravagant endeavor yet on Oct. 22, 23, 29 and 30.

Fright Night’s latest version involved a move to the Farmington Fairgrounds and three extensive, separate haunted attractions. It also had help from Loki’s workshop founder Darlene Patrick, who has been running haunted houses for over 30 years and was contracted by United Way and Titcomb Mountain (the founding organizations of Fright Nights) to help run the show.

When Darlene first invited me after I wrote a general story about the event, I was excited, but nervous. She and haunted-house expert Angelo Lamblase (who had lent a hand in setting up the attractions) asked that I give them my best scary laugh or scream.

I was too shy and instead opted to watch Lamblase take a stab at it. Even in plainclothes in the light of day, Angelo’s take on the creepy laugh sent shivers up my spine, backing away when he approached me.

I was worried I couldn’t pull it off. In the weeks that followed, I was told to give those spooks a try at home, but I couldn’t muster the humility to try it in the confines of my bedroom or car.

I was called back to the fairgrounds on Thursday, Oct. 21, for a training session. I was immediately struck by how people in the haunted-house industry and Halloween-lovers a like are so passionate about this.

During the training session, we learned some of the ins and outs of acting in a haunt. Stay at a distance from attendees and don’t block them in — lest they get scared and try to take a swing at you. Don’t get too low to the ground while scaring them — lest they kick you. Space out your territory from that of other actors so that the jump scares scattered throughout an attraction can be most impactful.

We also learned the art of haunt acting. Halloween-expert Elizabeth Martinez showed us how to do the best silly-clown walks, zombie walks and ghoul walks. When it came time for us to try, I still couldn’t drop my sense of pride to fully engage.

We walked from one side of the circle we had gathered in to the other practicing our walks. But I kept bursting with giggles, not yet willing to let go of the fear of embarrassment.

I left the training excited, but also with trepidation that I wouldn’t be able to pull off the show.

Come Friday, Oct. 29, things looked dire. I had practiced my scare tactics a few times but still couldn’t take it seriously. I headed to the fairgrounds a couple hours early to get into costume and makeup. I got lucky because Darlene, “Mrs. Halloween” herself, did my makeup. She gave me a simple white face with dried blood and green bruises that looked like they’d been stuck on my face for a century.

Staff writer Kay Neufeld gets into costume, makeup and (subsequently) character as they prepare to act in the Farmington Fright Nights haunted attractions at the Farmington Fairgrounds Friday, Oct. 29. Neufeld played the role of a grieving widow who died on her husband’s grave and became trapped in the graveyard. Photo courtesy of Darlene Patrick

With my dress and makeup on, I was finally feeling the night a bit more. I had decided that my character would be the cursed spirit of a grieving widow who died on her husband’s grave and was trapped in a haunted cemetery.

I walked over to the graveyard — outside the Cabin in the Woods attraction — where I met with my co-stars, so to speak. We discussed the tactics, what their plans were and got into position as people started trickling in through the gates.

I was joined by three other people in the graveyard: Terri Potvin, a “skinwalker” with a furry body, a dog’s skull face and sharp, threatening teeth; Leslie Kaut, a human with the head of a pumpkin (a real one, which she said fogged up her glasses and left the taste of pumpkin in her mouth the entire night); and Edward, a scarecrow of sorts with glowing red eyes.

Terri and Edward were the jump-scares of the yard. The former hiding would rush into the cemetery and the latter pretended to be a dummy that didn’t come to life until the group was passing by him as they exited. Leslie and I were the distractions to make the jump-scares work.

The first group walked out the backdoor of the cabin into the graveyard and I was thrust into character.

I collapsed to the ground, yelling “where is my husband, what have you done with him!” Well, I was screaming at the top of my lungs, really. I was quite shocked by how instantaneously and easily I got into scare mode. I wondered “where had that come from?”

That was my character for the first hour, telling people I was trapped, that I didn’t know why I was here, begging people to take me home with them, begging them to stay. A few times I asked if they had a room in their house for me.

“Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” I’d yell. “Why are you walking away? Everybody leaves!”

After the first group left, Leslie and Terri warned me I’d swiftly lose my voice if I kept up that act all night. Much of the evening went like that, in fact. Terri and Edward (kindly) informed me that we needed to space out our territory because I was stepping on their toes and making the jump scares less effective. That was not something I had known but immediately understood and adjusted accordingly.

Both Edward and Terri are seasoned haunters. Terri has participated in United Way’s haunt for four years. I was impressed by how they stayed in character the whole night. After a group would leave the cemetery, I’d swiftly return to my identity as Kay. Terri, however, would snarl as they walked away and then hobble back to their hiding spot.

But they didn’t only help me with things that I was doing wrong, for lack of a better word. Terri would hobble over to me in character and suggest I try yelling something new, evolve the character in this way or that. It was really helpful and fun having them around to collaborate with.

After a while, it felt like we became a team. I’d stand in the middle of the yard, drawing the group’s attention by yelling the nonsense I had come up with. After getting them a third of the way through the yard, Terri would jump out with the first scare. I’d continue on with them for another third of the yard and leave them for Edward, who would come to life and ring a cow bell in their face just as they opened the gate to leave. I couldn’t help but watch each group exit, excited to witness the final (and most unexpected) scare.

Staff writer Kay Neufeld pleads with a group of visitors to stay in the graveyard forever while acting in the Farmington Fright Nights haunted attractions Friday, Oct. 29. Photo courtesy of Darlene Patrick

After about an hour and a lengthy break under a blanket, I decided to switch things up. I felt that my character was getting whiny and repetitive. I wanted to try something new. Instead of begging people to stay, I became the protector of the graveyard. They didn’t belong here, they should go back to where they came from, they needed to leave — faster!

At this point, I realized I was really getting into character. Even after a group had left and the graveyard was empty, my face stayed in a grimace while I ran through different things to say in my head.

The last third of the evening, I got really versatile. I found it easier to come up with new, unexpected things to say the longer I was in character. I was asking people why they were “stupid enough to come here,” telling them I’d rip their guts out if they didn’t leave. I’d tell visitors I had a friend (Terri, the skinwalker) who would then jump out and chase them away as I yelled “he likes the taste of blood!”

There were two wildcards to the evening: the unpredictability of the attendees and the blistering cold.

Having been to many a haunted house, I had already known that there are all different kinds of attendees: the screamers, the indignant ones, the tough ones, etc.

I tried not to take it to heart when a person would say “this isn’t even scary!” or “that’s it?” Those lines most often came from middle-school boys and middle-aged men. It’s inevitable, isn’t it.

What I did not anticipate were the drunks and the people who like to put their hands on the actors (often the same person). At one point, a visibly intoxicated woman gave Terri a shove after their jump scare. She likely would have done more damage had her friend not forcibly dragged her away. During training, Darlene warned us about these kinds of people and instructed us to notify someone if a situation arose, but it was still unpleasant to witness. Luckily, it never got serious enough to seek help.

The other caveat was that I was woefully underdressed for the cold. My flimsy old dress, pair of tights and sneakers were no match for the drop to 35 degrees Fahrenheit. It quickly became bone chilling. Around 9 p.m. (two and a half hours in) it was reaching painful. But I was determined to stick it out – and I did, because eventually my whole body went numb.

The highlight of the evening came at the end. Some of the actors were assigned to be “roamers,” meaning they prowled around the fairgrounds scaring people and sometimes briefly took up a post inside an attraction. One of the roamers with a (chainless) chainsaw joined us as things were coming to a close.

A group of the aforementioned middle-school boys (too big and bad to be scared) entered the graveyard. “This is the end?” they complained. Terri and chainsaw man jumped out and the boys ran as fast as lightening, high-pitched screaming echoing across the fairgrounds. After they left, the three of us doubled over laughing and relished in the accomplishment.

Though I had initially planned to leave an hour or so before gates closed, I was disappointed when the evening came to an end around 10:30 p.m. I was even sadder to have to wash off the makeup.

After returning home, I treated myself to a scalding hot shower. Halfway through, the warm water started dissipating. “Don’t go! Don’t leave me!” I begged my pipes. I realized the words of the grieving widow unintentionally slipped out of me and I started cackling.

Darlene was certainly right when she said “everyone has a monster inside of them.” I’m curious to see how long this one sticks around.