“Mr.
Peabody!”
Even
though the
“Have
you downloaded the tunes for the Halloween party this weekend?”
My
sister, a varsity cheerleader, loves to throw parties so she can be the center
of attention. She likes attention even more than bashing me, which has been her
favorite hobby since we were kids. So it’s
usually in my best interest to make sure she gets what she wants.
“I’ve
still got a few things I want to find.”
“Try
to get that new release from Lady Gaga – it’s a wicked dance tune!”
I am
the king of finding free music, and that is my contribution to the cool crowd
outside of being related to Lucy. I’m not officially one of the beautiful
people, but I am one of the many who circle them in a supporting role. I don’t care for that position, but it has certainly
made life easier. These days I’ve
learned to choose my battles.
Halloween
is my favorite holiday. Cool crisp
breezes dance with a kaleidoscope of colored leaves, the excited eyes of little
children glow with the anticipation of costumes and candy, and the sinister
scowls of jack o’lanterns peer through hollow eyes at freakish orange and black
decorations. I have my own special way of celebrating Halloween, so while I’d
be supplying the music for the party, I have a much more personal ritual to
perform on All Hallows Eve. I just need to find the right location…
I
brought my buddy Chuck along for this reconnaissance ride through the country,
but I’m beginning to think it was a mistake. All he wants to talk about is
convincing me to go to the Halloween party and chaperone his little sister. Sally
has developed into quite a cutie, and Chuck is worried that some wolf will try
to eat her up at the party. It’s probably a legitimate worry, but I’m not the
guy to do it. I’ve never been to one of Lucy’s Halloween parties before, and I
don’t plan to start now.
“You’re
really not going to the party again this year?”
“You’re
really not asking Heather to go as your date?” I retorted.
Heather
has been Chuck’s fantasy girl as long as I can remember, but I don’t think he’s
ever talked to her much less asked her out. My comment was probably a little
mean, but Chuck was being relentless and it was getting on my nerves.
“This
looks promising on the left!” My sudden exclamation broke the sullen silence.
I
pulled my 1987 Civic to the side of the road.
It was lonely out here. It’s just
the sort of place where I could commune with the land. One could tell this ground had been
painstakingly tilled with the blood and sweat of simple farmers for over a
hundred years. Nothing but rolling green
farmland as far as the eye could see. This
is the place!
Halloween
morning dawned damp and chilly. The
clouds hung low in a sky colored the depressing grey of a forgotten tombstone. My midnight vigil would be uncomfortable to
say the least. But it wouldn’t be the
first time the weather had been daunting.
The worst was about three years ago when I was pelted with a freezing
rain half the night.
The
school day passed in a mind-numbing blur as I focused on my plans for this
evening. Lucy had all the tunes she wanted for tonight’s party, so she was off
my back. Chuck’s little sister had
sprouted a massive zit in the middle of her forehead, so she was dejected and
Chuck was secretly jumping for joy. And I had a full tank of gas so I could
return to my chosen spot for the annual ritual.
I
packed a rain slicker, a sleeping bag, a couple of flashlights and a sandwich
and headed out to the old farm. The
temperature dropped with the setting sun as I zipped my jacket all the way up, raising
the collar against the cold loamy air. Soon,
the eastern sky began to glow like the fields were on fire as a giant harvest
moon began to rise. It was time to begin
the ritual!
“O
Great Pumpkin, may you rise from the pumpkin patch! Take flight and good speed as you reward the unwavering
few!”
As
I spoke the words like so many times before, the stench of rotting fruit wafted
through the chill air. I heard a rustling to my left, and a great shadow rose
to block the full moon.
“O
Great Pumpkin, I am humbled you have chosen to grace your faithful servant!
What have you brought for me?!”
In
a voice felt deep in my brain rather than my ears, I suddenly knew the
truth. The pumpkin spirit of Samhain was
not here to bestow gifts, but to collect one. ME! The ancient vines surrounding
me whipped about in a frenzy, creating a tornado of howling wind that sounded
like the hounds of Hell let loose. As I
turned to run, I felt a spear of pain run up my leg as if I’d been shot. One of
the vines had slashed my calf like a bull whip.
Vines cracked all around me – gashing my arms, my face, my back. As I rolled over to look upon the fearsome
creature looming over me, I felt a vine deliver a deep cut to my belly. I
looked down to see my guts oozing out of a bleeding gash shaped like some
ghastly Jack o’ Lantern grin…
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * Epilogue
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
“Lucy, we found your brother’s car out on Hwy 90 early
this morning. It looks like something
happened to him. We found signs of a
struggle in the middle of a pumpkin patch bordering the road. There were shattered pumpkins and torn vines
everywhere. And this.” The state trooper held out a shredded
Roosevelt High jacket.
Lucy
stared dumbfounded. The baby blue lining was unmistakably made from her brother’s
favorite blanket as kid. They searched the field for days, but found no further
traces of Linus Van Pelt.
What
happened remains a mystery – at least until it’s time for the next 100 year
sacrifice…