By Larry Shurilla
Mitchell woke up to the sound of poplar leaves rustling behind a cold, October breeze. “Maybe we’ll go to the pumpkin farm today?” he thought as he put on his favorite football jersey and hurried downstairs to breakfast.
Fall was Mitchell’s favorite time of the year. He loved playing football, watching the autumn leaves turn bright shades of orange, red, and yellow, and of course, he loved Halloween! Each year after school began in September and as the days turned cooler and cooler, Mitchell knew that Halloween couldn’t be far away. That meant he could start buying Halloween candies and begin hunting for just the right costume for trick-or-treating, but Mitchell’s favorite Halloween custom was picking out and carving pumpkins. He especially loved gathering with his family into a darkened room to sing spooky Halloween songs around a freshly carved jack-o-lantern with a candle burning brightly inside it.
“My pumpkin will be the biggest and most expensive pumpkin ever,” bragged Mitchell’s sister, Molly, as they sat down at the breakfast table, “and everyone will wish it was theirs!”
“Biggest, maybe,” said Mom, “but don’t count on it being the most expensive.”
“I don’t care how big mine is,” said Mitchell, “but I hope I can find one with a perfect shape and deep orange color!”
“Well today’s the day we go to the pumpkin farm,” began Mom, “and you two better dress warmly because there’s quite a chilly breeze blowing outside.”
Mitchell’s face was glued to the window as the car pulled up to the pumpkin farm. The huge pumpkin field looked like a great green sea with brilliant orange buoys floating everywhere! Molly kept pointing to pumpkins saying, “That one is the biggest! No! This one! Well, may that one over there!”
As Mitchell, his mom, and Molly walked up and down the rows of the pumpkin field, Mitchell marveled at all the different shapes, colors, and textures of the pumpkins. Some were green and rough with yellow spots. Some were orange-yellow with a flat side and some were tall and smooth with tan vertical lines. Which one should he pick?!
Mitchell’s thoughts were broken by the screams of his sister, “Mommy! This is the one I want! This one! This one!” Molly stood next to a tremendous, golden orange pumpkin that was a full two feet tall and almost perfectly round!
When Mitchell saw the size of Molly’s pumpkin, his mouth hung open and his eyebrows arched into his forehead. “What a beauty,” he thought as Molly demanded, “I want this one, Mommy!!”
“I’m sorry,” Mom replied. “That one is a little too expensive, Molly. Try to find a cheaper one.”
When Molly heard that, she stomped up and down in the field, twisted her face into a knot and screamed, “I WANT THIS ONE! ONLY THIS ONE! AHHHHHHHH! YAAAAAAAAA! MOOOOOOOOOOOOM!”
“Alright! Alright! Just calm down, Molly,” Mom looked around and cried. “You can have that pumpkin, just quit making a scene!”
Molly grinned as Mitchell thought, “I don’t blame Mom for giving in to Molly. Listening to her tantrums is worse than getting booster shots.”
“What about you, Mitchell,” Mom asked. “Have you found a pumpkin yet?”
Just as Mitchell was about to say, No, he spotted a small, under-grown, half-green, half-orange pumpkin with a flat side, partially hidden under a large green leaf. It was as if the pumpkin was begging for a kind owner. Mitchell thought, “I bet if I don’t pick that little pumpkin, he’ll probably just rot in the field or end up in someone’s pumpkin pie!”
“I think I’ve found one, Mom,” Mitchell cried back to his mother.
When Molly saw the misshapen, oddly colored pumpkin that Mitchell selected, she teased, “You’re not really going to take that puny thing home, are you? It’s a runt!”
“Y-Y-Yes, I am,” stuttered Mitchell, “and he’ll be the best looking jack-o-lantern on the block!”
Molly turned up her nose to Mitchell, looked at her own huge pumpkin glistening in the October sun and gloated, “We’ll see who’s got the best pumpkin.”
During the ride home, Mitchell kept wondering if he had made a good choice. “Maybe Molly was right,” he thought. “My pumpkin sure looks dinky next to hers.”
When they arrived home, Dad had just come home from work. He said, “Well, would you take a look at those pumpkins! Two real beauties, I’d say.”
“Two beauties?” Mitchell thought.
“Now remember, Molly and Mitchell,” Dad continued. “Keep your pumpkins in a cool, dry place and don’t carve them until the day before Halloween; otherwise, they’ll spoil and you won’t have them for trick-or-treat night!”
“OK, Dad,” both Molly and Mitchell promised, “we won’t carve our pumpkins,” but only one of them would keep that promise.
Two weeks may be a short time if that’s all the vacation one has left in the summer, but when it’s that long a wait to carve a pumpkin, two weeks seems more like two months! “I can’t wait, Mitchell!” Molly screamed. “I can’t stand it anymore! I going to carve my pumpkin right now! It’s so big and beautiful and I want everyone to see it now! I’m sure it will last until Halloween night.”
“Dad said, no, Molly,” Mitchell cautioned. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
“I don’t care,” Molly snipped. “It’s my pumpkin and I can do whatever I want with it!”
Molly crept into the kitchen and snuck out a knife to carve her pumpkin.
“You know you’re not allowed to take knives out of the silverware drawer, Molly!” Mitchell warned, but Molly was determined to carve her pumpkin. Molly excitedly spread out some newspaper on the basement floor, cut out the top of the pumpkin and scraped all the seeds and slimy strands out of the center of the orange giant. Molly continued, carving the eyes and then the nose of her grand pumpkin. Just as Molly was finishing the face, Dad started walking down the basement stairs!
“Oh, No!” Molly thought as she hid the carving knife behind her back. When Dad saw what had happened, he stood there with his hand on his chin, shaking his head back and forth. “Let me have the knife, Molly,” Dad asked disappointedly.
Molly gave Dad the knife and squeaked out, “I’m sorry, Daddy. Am I in trouble?”
“I’m sorry, too,” Dad said calmly.
Molly continued, getting louder as she spoke, “I just had to see my pumpkin carved! Isn’t it the most beautiful pumpkin you’ve ever seen?”
Sure enough, the gargantuan pumpkin was a gorgeous sight! Its eyes were the size of California cantaloupes and its mouth was almost as wide as a tee-ball bat! “Yes, Molly,” Dad replied. “It’s an awesome bit of nature.”
“Are you going to punish me?” Molly asked.
“You’ve punished yourself already, Molly,” Dad counseled. “I don’t think your mother or I need to do anything more.”
“I don’t believe it!” Mitchell exclaimed to Molly after Dad went back upstairs. “He’s not going to do anything?!”
Molly had a puzzled look on her face as she said, “I wonder what he meant when he said I’ve punished myself?”
It didn’t take long for Molly to understand what her father meant. The first day after Molly carved her colossal pumpkin she radiated delight and looked admiringly at her creation. It was hard to imagine a more perfect pumpkin, but as each day passed, the pumpkin’s smiling, shining face began to droop. The bright orange color began to change to yellow, then brown, then black. The once hard shell began to soften and shrink. The pumpkin’s jolly smile became sadder and sadder and sadder.
Molly now understood her father’s words. Her punishment was to watch her pumpkin slowly rot, as each day brought her closer to Halloween.
A week before Halloween, Molly’s once grand pumpkin was a rotten mess. “I’m sorry, Mom and Dad,” Molly sobbed as tears ran down her cheeks. “I won’t ever do it again.”
“We know you won’t,” Mom comforted, as Dad scraped up the rotten pumpkin with a shovel and dumped it into the trash can.
At long last it was the day before Halloween and the family had gathered together to sing Halloween songs and carve Mitchell’s pumpkin. “Come on, Molly,” Mitchell beckoned. “Help me carve this little guy!”
“Are you sure you want me to help you, Mitchell?”
“Yeah,” Mitchell replied, “I know I can’t carve half as good as you can.”
As each member of Mitchell’s family took turns carving the pumpkin, Mitchell pondered, “This pumpkin didn’t look so good sitting all alone in the field, but with a little help, he sure turned out great!”
On Halloween night, as Mitchell in his Frankenstein costume and Molly in her vampire cape took off down the dark block trick-or-treating, they both stopped in front of their house and listened to the joyful screams of trick-or-treaters running through the neighborhood. They both gazed at the happy, glowing jack-o-lantern beaming from their kitchen window.
“You know what, Mitchell?” Molly asked.
“No, what?” Mitchell replied.
“Your little pumpkin doesn’t look so bad after all.”
“Yeah,” Mitchell grinned, his eyes wide and dreamy. “Sometimes the worst looking pumpkins turn out the best.”
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