Pumpkins, Pumpkins, Lots of Pumpkins!

Chapter 4

Chapter 4

A few weeks later, as the ever-shining sun waned and the stars came out, a mist began to spread out among the pumpkin patches. A silhouetted silence followed as those animals that sleep at night went to bed, and those that are nocturnal, came out. Darkness stretched its hands from the oak and the little pumpkins looked up afraid.
Suddenly a symphony of noises exploded all around the little pumpkins.

The little pumpkins huddled in fear, as Michael asked Mother Vine to stretch her leaves around Toby and Sally. When he was satisfied that his siblings were safe, he told them both to close their eyes, and pretend that the noises weren’t there.

Ribbit!

Michael opened his eyes as he realized the sound was near. It was coming from the stream.

Ribbit!

“Who’s out there?” Toby’s voice quivered in terror, nuzzling next to Sally, trying to protect her. “We are not carrots or lettuce! We are not your food!”
Ribbit!

There was no reply. The strange noise continued drawing closer, nearer and nearer; louder and louder.

RIBBIT!

All of a sudden, a wet, green blob flew out of the darkness and landed in front of trio of pumpkins. A pair of lidless, beady eyes peered up at them, and a long, pink tongue shot out of its mouth snatching a small thing from the air!

“What are you?” asked Jack, puffing out his pumpkin-ness in bravado. He was older and had to show Toby and Sally that he wasn’t afraid.

The wet, green creature’s tongue shot out again, catching another small, black thing which was flying in the air.

“Ribbit, I am a frog!” the creature croaked deeply, “I have come on land to search for tasty flies to eat! I usually jump from lily pad to lily pad looking for flies that buzz in the air, ribbit,” the frog explained, “but tonight I saw several flying over here that looked mighty tasty”

“Are we flies that you are planning to eat?” asked Sally slowly.

“Ribbit, you are too round to be flies—too orange,” the frog croaked. “Much too big to be my food.”

“If we are not flies, can you tell us what we are?” asked Michael.

“Ribbit! You are not flies that a frog eats,” the frog explained. “Methinks you are plants that sit on the ground. But, I cannot tell you what you are.” With that the frog turned around and jumped back towards the stream, disappearing into the night.

“Well, I guess we have learned something more about ourselves,” said Toby proudly.

“So, we are not green lettuce or orange carrots,” added Sally. “We are not food for bunnies or frogs.”

“That’s right,” Jack said excitedly, “but we still do not know what kind of plant we are, why we are here, or what will become of us.”
In the rich soil, under the shimmering stars, in the darkness under the branches of a lonely oak, the three pumpkins shut their eyes and went to sleep. This day they found out that they were a plant, but not flies.

The moon shone down on the peaceful pumpkin patch as the three little pumpkins drifted quietly off to sleep.