Pumpkin

No one knew why we called her Pumpkin, all we knew was that was what she was Pumpkin and that was that. She had gotten the nickname soon after she was born, on Christmas day, by our great uncle who had no place to live because he had gotten kicked out by his ex-wife. We were opening presents by the tree when she started crawling through the living room making her way to the kitchen. Everyone was in awe as we watched her crawl for the first time and no one could find any words to say except for Uncle Arnie, who had decided to speak at that moment to comment on what a little pumpkin she was. Pumpkin was eight, she was seven and a half really, but she insisted on being called eight. She said it made her feel grown up, and that she liked feeling old. Her bright golden hair was let loose to fall across her freckled face and her hazel nut eyes, except for a bright baby blue headband placed on her head, which she wore everyday of that summer.
We lived in a small house with two floors next to a small lake in southern Alabama, but were never quite to fond of it: my older sister, my father, and I. It was a pale yellow paint, that had the paint peeling off in random places, with shingles on the roof, that seemed to fall off from time to time. The chimney had fallen off the year before, leaving a small unnatural patch in the roof that father had worked hard to fix up. The windows were dirty, seeing as no one had time to wash them ever, and were only found near the front of the house, looking out on the porch and the shore of the lake. We had lived in California once, and the family had never gotten used to living in the south, seeing as we had to leave all of our former friends. Pumpkin was the best adapted to it and had taken a liking to it. She would run to the second floor, on the red shag carpet stairs, and find secret passages through the house that led to the outside, and to an old abandoned cave a little ways away from the house.
She had discovered the cave not long ago and all by herself. She had been wandering around the side of the house, and found a narrow rocky path that led down a ravine. She followed it as long as it went, which went on for a almost half a mile, before she came to the cave entrance. After she found it she spent most of her time in it. There was even a small patch blanket that was sitting on top of a rock near the mouth of the cave, because Pumpkin was afraid of the dark and never found the courage to explore the back of the cave.
Summer was here once again. We could tell as we sat outside, feet hanging off the porch, eating a Popsicle, and watching the vines curl up along the sidings of the house. The sun was shining not far above, burning our skin and making us feel drowsy in the heated atmosphere. Pumpkin always loved the summer seeing as it was the only time that mom came home to visit us. Those were the days that dad needed leave the state to work, so mom would come take care of us, traveling from her home in North Dakota. We always smiled as we saw Pumpkins face light up as soon as we went to pick mom up from the train station. Our parents had been divorced for a year now. They had been working through some issues for a few months before mother decided that she couldn’t take living with dad anymore and left.
She wanted to take us with her, but Dad won us in court. Father was a nice man and was not unfit, so we didn’t mind when he won out, but we all missed mom terribly. They always apologized to us when they were both together, through the exchange of awkward glances, about the divorce but they always made up for it by spending as much time with us as possible. The year before last mother had bought us a dog. A golden retriever that Pumpkin had named Kenya only seconds after the dog had pranced her way onto the threshold of the fireplace, and laid itself down lazily. Soon after, Pumpkin plopped down next to her, cuddling the small dog, and bringing it close to her chest as they both fell asleep on the floor.
The sun was started to fall down in between the mountains over in the distance, and the fireflies were lighting themselves in against the background of the twilight sky. My older sister, Ariel, and I were laying on the edge of the lake, letting the waves roll onto the banks, washing our feet of a days crawling through the brushes exploring. Pumpkin was not far off crouching over a small fish that was stranded on the banks. Kenya was next to her, sniffing the fish curiously and then staring at Pumpkin as if wondering whether or not she could eat it. Pumpkin let a single tear fall from her face as she picked up the lifeless fish in her hands, and set it down next to a small hole she was making, and proceeded to make it deeper..
“Pumpkin.” I called out, still staring at the clouds, that were blocking out half of the moon, leaving an eerie glow behind it. Ariel looked turned her head, letting the sand scrunch beneath her hair as she looked over at the young girl. Pumpkin was still hunched over her hole, digging through the rocky sand with her little fingers, not pausing even when a jagged rock cut the tip of her index finger and caused it to bleed. She put her finger in her mouth, and continued with her other hand
“Pumpkin?” Ariel asked, her hand was on her stomach, and her other arm was suspended in the air, trying to see if she could see it through the darkness. Ariel was no more than three years older than me being fourteen, but never thought of it as much of a difference from me. This time Ariel got the answer from a small squeaky voice.
“Yes sister?” We could hear her suppressed sobs through the sound of Kenya barking at a duck who was passing by with her babies trailing close behind.
“Why are you crying?” My eyes were still pointed to the sky to see the array of black, and the stars that began to poke their way through the thick blanket of night.
First there was silence, and a dull breeze came and past by our faces. I could her Ariel taking breaths as she inhaled the lake air, and let her self be submerged in the moment. I turned to look at her, but could only see her closed eyes, and half of her grinning face as her jet black hair streamed across the other half. I smiled to her and laughed to myself as I saw a lightning bug crawl up her left cheek and disturbed her from her meditation; making Ariel sit up suddenly brushing her face. Suddenly out of no where, the silence was broken.
“Brother?” Pumpkin had said, piercing the night, and startling Kenya, who had been sticking her nose into a rabbit hole.
“Yes?” I answered. I felt the tide move in closer, and it was now up to my calves. I moved up a little onto the bank, to keep my shorts my getting wet, and watched as Ariel followed suit.
“Why did this happen?”
“Why did what happen?”
“This.” she pointed to a small mound in the ground with a single pinecone protruding form the top. The fish was gone, and all that was left was the mound. I understood what she meant, but I couldn’t bring myself to explain it to her. I glanced over at Ariel and saw that she was watching me intently. Her eyes were serious, but at the same time they were soft. I looked back at Pumpkin and saw her eyes were almost the same watery and brown, as the moonlight reflected off of them, leaving her looking wiser than her years. Her moist cheeks glistened as well, and looked like the surface of the lake.
I remembered that Pumpkin had seen this once before, and was always mourning over the animals near the house who had left this world. Like the blue jay that had hit the window and broke through it. It lasted through the night in an old shoebox before it passed on from a broken back. She never knew what happened to it, as she nudged the box, tears streaming down her face, asking the bird to wake up and play like it had the day before. Ariel and I had tried our best to keep her from knowing the truth, and took the bird to the small patch of garden in the yard to bury it underneath the tulips. I watched her as we lay ashes on top of the grave, and how her eyes seemed pained, even though she wasn’t quite sure what had happened. I could see the same hurt in her eyes now.
I sighed deeply and scratched the lower part of my back that was just then being bitten by a water spider, and decided the best thing would be for me not to explain it.
“I don’t know.” I said, and then fell asleep on the sandy shore.