Pumpkins and Potions

by Tegan Maher

  “Oh.” Darby’s big blue eyes swung down to the ground when she realized Jax had only been playing with them. “Sorry, Trent.”

  “Thank you for apologizing.” Jax handed her a pumpkin. “Here you go. Happy Halloween.”

  As Darby whispered a sheepish thanks, a little boy missing two front teeth stopped directly in front of me and tugged on the hem of my hoodie. “Excuse me, ma’am. Can I pet your dog?”

  “Ma’am,” snorted Alba. “Did ya hear that, Red? The kid called you ma’am.”

  I looked down at the boy. He was cute, with long brunette locks that hung across his big brown eyes and curled around his ears. I squatted down and Chesney, my chestnut-colored dog, licked my face, making me laugh. “Yeah, you can pet my dog. His name’s Chesney and I’m Mercy. What’s your name?”

  “Henry.” Smoothing a hand across Chesney’s soft fur, Henry beamed while Chesney’s tail went wild. “What kind of dog is he?”

  “He’s a Cavapoo.”

  “What’s a Cavapoo?”

  “It’s a Cavalier King Charles Spaniel–poodle mix. Isn’t his fur so soft?”

  “Super soft,” Henry agreed. “I’m gonna get a dog like this for Christmas.”

  “Are you?”

  Henry nodded. “I’m gonna go home tonight and write my list to Santa.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea.”

  He wrinkled his nose and looked up at me. “What kind of dog is it again?”

  “A Cavapoo.”

  “Cavapoo,” he said it slowly.

  “Yes. Cav-a-poo, like have a poooo,” I said slowly.

  That made the little boy giggle wildly.

  “Eww,” groaned Holly behind me. “That’s disgusting, Mercy.”

  “Have-a-poo,” Henry repeated. “That’s so funny. I’m gonna tell my dad. He’ll laugh so hard.”

  I stood up and tousled his hair. Shooting Holly a look, I cocked a brow and said out of the side of my mouth, “Might be disgusting, but he won’t forget that name anytime soon.”

  One of the teachers hollered across the yard, “First graders, get your pumpkins, it’s time to load the bus! Make sure to thank the nice volunteers for being so helpful. And thank the Beasleys for letting us come visit their pumpkin patch!”

  Trent and Darby both hollered thank-yous before darting away with the rest of the children, who had their pumpkins and the little brown paper sacks that held their snacks.

  I reached into the wheelbarrow, grabbed a pumpkin, and handed it to Henry. “Here you go, Henry.”

  “Thanks for letting me pet your dog.” He took the pumpkin and waved at Chesney. “Bye, Havapoo.” Giggling like mad, he raced away with the rest of the Aspen Falls Elementary first-graders.

  Next to me, Holly tugged at the front of the oversized orange cable-knit sweater she wore over black leggings and knee-high suede boots. “It’s so hot out here. Who knew it could get this hot in October in Pennsylvania?”

  “We all knew, Cosmo,” said Alba. “Where were you last year?”

  Holly shrugged. “Here with you. But Mercy’s ex messed with the temperatures last fall. Remember?” She looked over at me, a forlorn look on her face. “Mercy, can’t you ask Hugh to turn the heat down again this year? Last year was perfect.”

  “Oh geez, Cosmo. A, they’re broken up—why would the cowboy wanna do anything for Red anymore? And two, do you seriously not remember the snowstorm we got last year because that idiot messed around with Mother Nature?”

  The memory of the Christmas snowstorm was enough to change Holly’s tune. “Oh, yeah. I forgot about that. Never mind, Mercy.”

  Sweets appeared then, carrying a large pumpkin in her arms. Her brown eyes were big and bright. “Girls, look! I found the perfect pumpkin. It’s perfectly symmetrical, not too big and not too small, its stem is intact, and I can’t find any discoloration at all. It’s the perfect shade of orange.” She put it down on the ground and stood back to admire it. “It’s going to look amazing on our front porch, isn’t it?”

  Alba rolled her eyes. “And what do we need a pumpkin on our porch for exactly?”

  “Seriously, Alba?” said Jax. “It’s fall and we’ve got our own place this year. We have to have a pumpkin on our porch.”

  “It’s, like, mandatory, Alba,” I agreed in my best Valley girl voice, flipping my long red braid over my shoulder.

  Not catching the thick sarcasm in my voice, Jax’s eyes widened. “See! Even Mercy agrees! It’s mandatory.”

  Rolling my eyes, I straightened my thick-rimmed glasses. “I was joking, Jax. Having a pumpkin on our porch is not mandatory. At least not any more mandatory than it is to put orange Christmas lights on our porch or a fake skeleton on our front door.”

  “Hey, Bones is mandatory in my book,” Sweets huffed.

  “Yeah! I love Bones. He makes the place feel so—I don’t know”—Jax shrugged—“festive!”

  “Oh geez. A skeleton on the front door makes the place feel festive? Can you get any more cliché?” Alba looked around. “I mean, if the goal is to be as cliché as possible, then shouldn’t we hang a witch on the tree out front of the house?”

  Jax sucked in a breath and her eyes grew large. “You mean the ones that look like a witch was flying on her broomstick, but she crashed into the tree?”

  Snuffing, Alba shot me a sly smile and a wink. “Yeah. That’s the one.”

  Jax squealed. “Oh my gosh, Alba! Yes! I’ve always wanted one of those! We totally should do it!” She searched our faces. “Oh, girls, can we make one of those? Can we? Can we? Can we?”

  Sweets shrugged. “In my book, the more decorations the merrier.”

  “Honestly, I could care less,” said Holly.

  When Jax’s eyes turned to me, I patted her on the shoulder. “I hate to break it to you, Jax, but I’m pretty sure Alba was just teasing you.”

  “What?!” Jax spun on the heel of her pointy-toed witch boot to look at Alba. Her face was screwed up into a pout. “Alba. Were you just teasing?”

  “Yeah, Shorty. I was teasing. Come on. We’re grown-ups now. We’re not six.”

  “What are you talking about? Grown-ups put decorations in their yards all the time!”

  Alba threw her hands up. I could tell she was tired of talking about it. “Do whatever you want, Shorty. I’m tired and my feet hurt. I’m ready to blow this pumpkin stand.” Her eyes scanned the yard. Most of the first graders had loaded up, but other children still ran wild and a new bus was just pulling in. “Anyone seen Primrose lately? Isn’t this thing only supposed to go until noon?” Alba lifted my wrist to look at my Batman watch. “Twelve oh one. Time to make like a tree and leave.”

  From behind us, a light, feathery voice rode in on the warm fall breeze. “Did I hear my name, dahlings?” Sorceress Primrose appeared then. The small woman with short white hair and bright lavender eyes smiled broadly at us. She wore a silk scarf around her neck and a rust-colored tunic over a billowy black skirt and boots. Her fingers were weighted with big colorful baubles, and amber crystals dangled from her lobes.

  “Can we go?” Alba asked pointedly. “It’s lunchtime and I’m starving.”

  “Of course you are, dahlings. You’ve all worked so hard today. Norabelle Beasley has our refreshments set out in the main yard. Shall we head that way?”

  “Seriously?” Alba slumped forward. “Can’t we just go home?”

  “Alba, don’t be rude.” Sweets smiled at our headmistress. “We’d love to have refreshments with the rest of the group, Sorceress Primrose.”

  “Very good. Then I’ll gather the rest of the ladies and we’ll all meet over there. Once we’ve had our snacks, I’ll be happy to dismiss you.”

  2

  Twenty minutes later, Sweets licked orange froth from her top lip, closed her eyes, and sighed. “Oh my gosh. Girls, I have got to get the recipe for this spiced pumpkin punch.” She shook her head. “It’s literally like Mrs. Beasley bottled the taste and scent of fall. It is amazing.” Her eyes widene
d as a thought hit her. “Can you imagine having this with my zucchini bread? The combination would be out of this world.”

  “Twenty bucks says Mrs. Beasley’s thermos has the alcoholic version in it,” Alba scoffed through a mouthful of pumpkin bar. “It’d be the only way I could work around all these kids and not go insane.”

  We were all seated on hay bales arranged in a big circle in the main yard. Children ran around us shouting, screaming, and laughing. Some of them carried their mini pumpkins while others carried treat bags. Behind us a line of people stood in front of a small red barn where a serving window had been cut out of one side and a corrugated tin roof built over it. A sign above the window read “The Snack Shack.” We’d gotten to skip the line, as Mrs. Beasley had brought the Institute volunteers trays of treats—offering us our choice of pumpkin bars topped with cream cheese frosting or pumpkin snickerdoodles as well as cups of spiced pumpkin punch or hot cocoa.

  I’d opted for the cocoa and a snickerdoodle and Norabelle had even been kind enough to bring Chesney a pumpkin-flavored dog biscuit—proudly confessing she’d concocted the treat herself. Ches had devoured it in seconds and was now scurrying back and forth between each of the roommates to see who would cave first and offer up morsels of theirs.

  Though the day had shaped up to be a warm one—probably the hottest it had been all month—we were now sitting beneath a large red oak tree, enjoying the shady respite from the sun. The warm breeze rustled the leaves in the trees and propelled the cinnamony scent of spiced pumpkin everything through the air.

  In addition to the children and their teachers running about, there were also quite a lot of townsfolk at the patch, shopping for pumpkins. Tall and stout Mr. Beasley passed us, helping a customer carry a large pumpkin to her car while his wife busied herself tending to the volunteers.

  Tom and Norabelle Beasley were in their mid-to-late sixties. Tom used a straw cowboy hat to cover his bald head—a secret I’d discovered when he’d bent over to help a little boy tie his shoe earlier in the day and the little boy had plucked off the hat to try it on for size. He sported a full dark beard and mustache and wore a red flannel shirt over his denim overalls and plain white tee. Norabelle, oddly enough, quite resembled her husband. With her girthy hips and heavy chest, she was almost the same size as him. And, as if it were their agreed-upon work uniform, she wore the same overalls and buffalo check shirt. Her long brown hair was pulled back and twisted into a butterfly clip, but baby-fine white wisps had pulled loose around her temples.

  We’d been sitting there for several minutes, watching the Beasleys run this way and that, when Holly remarked, “I can’t believe how busy they are.” She brushed the crumbs from her shirt. “I had no idea pumpkin farms were so popular.”

  “Seriously?” Jax’s blue eyes sparkled as she stared wide-eyed at Holly. “How do you not know pumpkins are popular at Halloween?”

  “The same way she didn’t know Pennsylvania could get hot in October,” scoffed Alba.

  “I didn’t say I didn’t think it could get hot here, Alba.” Rolling her eyes, Holly turned to look at Jax. “And I mean, I know pumpkins are popular at Halloween, Jax. I just didn’t realize people actually went to farms to get them. I always thought they, like, got them from the grocery store or something.”

  Sweets’ eyes widened. “Holl! Are you telling us you’ve never been to a pumpkin patch before?”

  Licking a bit of frosting from her pinky, Holly giggled. “Nope. My third-grade class went to one, but I had strep throat that day and had to stay home.”

  “Aww, you poor girl,” said Jax. “I love pumpkin patches. We took a field trip to a pumpkin patch from kindergarten through the fifth grade when I was little.”

  “When you were little,” scoffed Alba. “What are you talkin’ about, Shorty? You’re still little.”

  Jax groaned. “You know what I mean, Alba.”

  In the nearby loading area, Tom Beasley slammed his customer’s trunk shut and started back towards us. When he was close enough, Holly shouted at him. “Are you always this busy, Mr. Beasley?”

  Tom stopped to smile kindly at us and to give that question a moment of consideration. “Well, I’ll admit, it does seem like it’s been busier than it has been in the last twenty-five years I’ve been in business. Can’t say as I mind much, though.”

  “I’ll tell you why it’s so busy.” Behind us, in line for The Snack Shack, a petite brunette woman in an oversized Gap sweatshirt and leggings turned around to look at us. She looked to be about thirty and carried a sparkly orange travel mug in one hand and her billfold and keys in the other.

  Crossing his thick hairy arms over his chest, Tom looked up at her curiously. “Oh, why’s that?”

  The woman removed her large sunglasses and pushed them back into her hair. “I’m surprised you haven’t heard. Someone went around town smashing pumpkins last night.”

  Jax’s blue eyes burst open wide. “They did what?!”

  The woman nodded. “The little jerks. They threw all of my pumpkins off my deck and onto the lawn. Pumpkin seeds and guts everywhere. I live over in the Newbury Heights development and literally everyone on my street got hit.”

  “That’s terrible!” said Sweets.

  “Tell me about it,” said the woman. “My kids were literally in tears this morning when they saw what happened. They’d already carved the pumpkins, so it was extra disheartening for them. The only way I could get them to stop crying and go to school was to promise I’d run out and buy new pumpkins and we’d carve them this weekend.”

  “But who would do something like that?” I asked.

  The woman pursed her lips. “Oh, trust me, we’ll find out. One of my girlfriends lives two doors down and we were discussing it. We both think it had to have been this family that lives at the end of our block. They have three boys and they are always getting into trouble. We’re pretty confident we’ll find out it was them.”

  Alba frowned. “Neither one of you have one of those porch cams or something?”

  The woman shook her head. “We don’t have one, but I know one of the neighbors across the street does. I called her this morning and she said she’d check the footage after work today.”

  “Porch cam, huh?” Tom rubbed his furry chin. “They have those now, huh?”

  “Almost everyone has them now,” said Alba. “At least where I come from.”

  Tom’s head bobbed. “Well, I sure hope they figure out who did it. Because that’s terrible.”

  “Terrible for me,” said the woman. “Probably good for business for you, though.”

  Tom looked uncomfortable but nodded. “I suppose. It’s just unfortunate that others had to suffer so my business could prosper.” He shook his head. “Well, I better get back to work. Thanks for filling me in, and I’m sure sorry about what happened to your pumpkins.” Mr. Beasley excused himself to go help a group of children.

  “Yeah, I’m sorry too. When I figure out who did it, you can bet I’m gonna make them come over and clean up my yard.”

  “Clean up the neighborhood is more like it,” said Alba.

  “Exactly.”

  “Next!” called a voice from inside the snack barn.

  The woman we’d been talking to gave us a tight smile and moved forward in the line, leaving my roommates and I to face each other again.

  “I can’t believe someone would do that,” said Jax. “That’s just mean.”

  “Sounds like kids pulling pranks to me.” Alba shrugged. “That’s nothing new. Back in Jersey everyone pulls pranks on Halloween. It’s like a rite of passage.”

  Jax extended her arms out in front of herself. “But why? What’s the point?”

  “The point is—there is no point. Just kids doing dumb stuff and having a good time.” Alba stood up and swept the crumbs from her hands and shirt. “Okay, snack time’s over. Time to go.”

  “Better let Primrose know we’re taking off,” I advised. Standing up, I untethered Chesney’s leas
h while Alba took off in search of Sorceress Primrose.

  A new bus pulled into the parking lot.

  “Ugh, more kids,” Holly groaned. “I could not work full-time at a place like this.”

  “Same,” I agreed. “A few of them are fine, but this many? I don’t get how teachers do it.”

  “Trust me,” Sweets said assuredly, “I come from a big family. You’d get used to it.”

  Alba reappeared then. “Primrose said we can go. The Wiz kids are supposed to show up any second. They’re handling the afternoon shift.”

  “Oh, thank God.” Holly grabbed her purse and drink and smiled. “I’m ready.”

  “Sweets, do you need help carrying that pumpkin?” asked Jax as we started towards the gravel road where we’d parked our cars.

  “No, I think I got it.” Shifting its weight in her arms, she faltered slightly and it began to fall.

  Jax threw out a hand and a flash of bright pink magical energy shot out and caught Sweets’ pumpkin before it could drop any lower. “Whoa! I got it.”

  Sweets relaxed a little. “Thanks Jax.”

  “Shorty, do you really gotta be all girly when you’re using your magic?”

  Still holding the pumpkin up magically with one hand, Jax’s other hand went to her hip. “Girly? How am I being girly?”

  Alba swirled a finger around in her direction. “You gotta make it pink?”

  Jax giggled. “I like the pink. I think it gives it a little extra flair or something, don’t you?”

  Alba curled her lip. “It definitely gives it something all right. Can’t say flair’s the word I’d use though.”

  Sweets patted Jax on the shoulder. “You just ignore big ole grumpy pants over there, Jaxie. We all like you just the way you are—girly pink magic, witch boots, and all.”

  “Thanks Sweets.”

  “Okay girls. Let’s hit the road,” I said.

  We were almost to their front gate when Norabelle caught up to us. “Are you girls leaving?”

  “Oh, yeah,” said Jax, trying to concentrate while keeping the pumpkin levitating out in front of her. “Is that okay? Sorceress Primrose told us the men from our school are supposed to be coming any minute.”