Where the Cute Things Go…

It was a cold crisp evening when the Farmer came and opened the gates. The Patch stirred restlessly, the soft rustle of leaves rising into the air as the pumpkins strained to get a better view. There were People. Lots of People. They came in groups, the larger ones often lead by the smaller ones as they threaded through the patch, pausing to look at one pumpkin then another. The Little Pumpkin watched them from half behind his heavy Friend, who was plump and asleep in her row of leaves and vines. He saw that the little ones, the children, were picking the pumpkins and carrying them away. An ember of hope began to glow inside him. He wanted to be picked too.

(Click above thumb for full sized page)

Quickly the Little Pumpkin nudged his way into a shaft of moonlight, turning his best face forward towards the children and arranging his leaves into a pleasing display. Many passed, but none looked. One by one, the pumpkins surrounding him were chosen and carted away, and bit by bit, the little Pumpkin became lonely. His friend had been taken long ago, hefted up into a wheelbarrow by several People on their way out of the Patch. Finally the Farmer closed the gate and the Little Pumpkin stood alone, with nothing around him but scattered leaves and the grumpy Wind.

But then he felt something strange. A tap….tap-tap on his side. The little Pumpkin looked around and found himself face to face with a little girl. She didn’t look much like the Farmer or the other People that had just left. Yes she was small, but something about her told the Little Pumpkin she was different. Not wanting to be caught off guard, the Little Pumpkin did his best to fluff his leaves and urge her to look at his other side. Goodness knows nobody ever picked a pumpkin based on the bad side. But she stayed where she was, thumping his top with her knuckles and studying his leaves. Finally she stood up and said to the Little Pumpkin, “Yes. Yes I think I like you.” The Little Pumpkin beamed with pride. He had been picked! The little girl leaned down and kisses the Little Pumpkin. “Now grow. I can’t take you with me tonight, but will come back for you in 3 days. Be good until then.” She sprinkled some sparkly dust around the Little Pumpkin and was gone.

(click above to enlarge page 6)

A bit confused, but still excited, the Little Pumpkin resigned himself to do exactly as his Picker had ordered. You have three days to grow! Bright and early the next morning the Little Pumpkin spread his leaves and sunned his sides, turning even his ugly side up to the sun in hopes that it would orange evenly and disguise his blotches. Three days now seemed an eternity to the Little Pumpkin, and he was certain he could grow more than enough in that time.
But three days passed, and every night the sun set on the Little Pumpkin that grew no larger. As the sun sank down below the horizon on the final night, the Little Pumpkin slumped in despair. He had failed his Picker. He had not grown as she had asked him to, no, he felt even smaller.

(click above pic to enlarge page 7)

But just as suddenly as she had appeared before, there she was again, with a tap tap-tap on his side and a broom in her hand. “You look marvelous!” she said, her face beaming in the moonlight. The Little Pumpkin was confused again, but picked himself up nevertheless, determined to look his best, even if he was the same size. The little girl thumped her broom down at the Little Pumpkin’s feet. “Come on now! It’s Halloween and we need to fly!”
Completely stumped, the Little Pumpkin stared at the broom stick in horror. I can’t fly! What does she expect me to do? I can’t even walk! The Little Pumpkin looked back up at his Picker and tried to think fast. Maybe…maybe if he used his vines to hold on…but how do I get on the broom? I can’t nudge my way on like I do through the soil! The Little Pumpkin slouched in concentration. He felt something warm, like hope stirring in his insides again, and decided he could at least try. And so he did, but before an inch of soil stirred around his base, something happened.

(click above to enlarge page The sparkly dust his Picker had sprinkled rose up into the air and landed on his vines and leaves which lit up like the stars. His pumpkin skin flushed bright orange, and he felt something change inside him. He felt a flutter like the wings of a bird and his entire body began to rock and bump on the ground.