* Pumpkin ~ Surprise *

         It was about eight in the morning when the first customer stopped in. He was an older gentleman with graying hair. He needed two pumpkins for his wife, cause she’s gonna make him a big pumpkin pie for desert. I instantly felt sorry for my fellow pumpkins. We grew up in the same patch, spending many days on the vine watching clouds roll by. They were good pumpkins, friendly and easygoing. Why, a whole day could go by, when I wouldn’t hear a peep out of old Fred. George, well, he’s just the opposite. He’s rowdy, and always squishing other pumpkin’s leaves and vines. He even broke his stem once. Now it just kinda hangs there. He wasn’t very considerate of fellow patch members, but he’s still a friend. It just isn’t fittin for him to die like this. I have heard whispers within the patch, of what happens to a pumpkin that is turned into a pie.

         When we were nothing but sproutlings. The green gourds, (we call them that, cause they’re pre gourd, not a sprout but not a grown pumpkin), well they would start telling stories. All about what happens when a pumpkin is made into a pie. First, they scalp ya, cuttin off your… stem, pretty leaves, and all. Next, they scrape out all your seeds with their bare hands, and with a big spoon, they scrape out all our meat. Right from the flesh. Finally, as if that didn’t gross us out enough, those gourds would chuckle, and say once the humans’ get what they want, they’d turn us into hideous things called Jack-O-Lanterns. They take sharp knives, and cut our flesh, tearing weird shaped holes into it. Finally, they put glowing wax sticks inside us. Well, poor Tommy was so grossed out, that he actually lost his seeds. Right there in the young’ans patch. I felt like it, but somehow keep from hurlin. I shuddered to think of what would happen to poor Fred and George.

         There were a couple other cars stopped, but they only looked around. Right before ten a.m., a pretty woman with light auburn hair stopped in. She and the farmer shared a few pleasantries, and conversed about the weather, as she wandered among the fruits and vegetables. “What cha looking for Ma'am?” the farmer asked as he watched her meander through the veggies. “Well” she started, “I need three dozen pumpkin blossoms, and one nice sized pumpkin. I want to make a nice, juicy, pumpkin pie tomorrow night,” she finished merrily.

         I‘m so glad she can be cheery I though, sickened. She’s not the one gonna get chopped, scooped, and lit up like a Christmas tree. I noticed she was movin slower, then stopped at me. My leaves were trembling as she ran a smooth hand down my coarse rind. “I like this one,” she said to the farmer as my juice ran ice cold. “Oh God! I am going to become a pumpkin pie! My mind screamed. “I will pick it up later though. I have a few errands to run in town,” I vaguely heard her saying. “Good choice Ma'am.” the farmer replied, as she got in her car, and sped off towards town. I had been granted a stay of reprieve, but for how long I didn’t know.

         Twenty minutes later, a darlin looking little girl with strawberry blond curls came riding up to the stand on her bike. The girl’s expression was so sorrowful, that I didn’t even realize she was looking at my table. The farmer must have seen it though. He kindly asked if she needed anything today. That sweet angel’s face fell, as she whispered, “No sir, I’m just lookin.” The farmer was tough, but not that tough, so he just listened. “Momma says we can’t get a pumpkin this year. We always used to make Jacky lanterns, but not since daddy died,” she said with a thick voice full of tears.

         However, before the Farmer could say anything, she hopped back on her bike, and said. “Well I guess I won’t bother ya’ll no more. I gots to get home anyway.” Then off the little girl rode, back the way she came. Now if that wasn’t just strange I didn’t know what was. I didn’t have long to think on it though; cause the lady that bought me was back ten minutes later. I was a goner I realized, as I watched the pretty woman pay the farmer, and walk over to pick me up. As she carried me to the back seat of her car, my only thought was, I wouldn’t live to see another day.

         The ride to her house was so short I didn’t even have time to work myself into a good frenzy. Red (the evil pumpkin killin lady), carried me in the house, and set me on a cutters block next to the stove. Ahh! Red sat me next to the stove! Red was already prepared to spill my seeds. With closed eyes, I was waitin for the piercin blade of death, when I heard a familiar angelic voice. I’m comin oh great pumpkin, I thought when it dawned on me what I heard. Glancing up, I saw the sweet girl from the stand. “NO MOMMA!!” she shouted, “You can’t… he’s our Jacky Lantern.” She continued as she hurried over to Red.

         “I prayed to the Lord, to ask daddy if we could make a punkin together this year, since daddy died. I reckon he did, cause at the food stand, I saw daddy. He pointed to this punkin… said we should enjoy it.” I watched that pretty lady wrap her little angel in a big hug as they both cried. Well, they didn’t end up hurtin me after all. Ya see, that little girl can’t use knives, so they just drew a face with crazy eyes on me. Then those special ladies set me outside, to live out the rest of my days… smiling.