Pumpkins and Potions

by Tegan Maher

  “There’s no time for your hat, Jax. Chesney’s waited long enough.” I took off out the door, carrying Chesney under my arm while Jax disappeared into the kitchen. When I got to the curb, I put him down on the gravel road.

  Immediately, he looked back at the pumpkin in our yard and barked at it. Sort of a take that, you scary pumpkin, you don’t scare me one little bit!

  Chuckling, I hollered at the pumpkin too. “Yeah, you big dumb pumpkin! You don’t scare us!”

  As if on a mission, Chesney charged forward along the curb, nearly yanking my arm out of its socket.

  “Mercy! Wait for me!” Jax called, running down the front steps after me and holding her new witch hat on with one hand.

  By the time we got to the neighbor’s house, Jax had already caught up. Chesney decided he didn’t like the way the gravel felt on his paws and pulled me across the neighbor’s lawn and onto their sidewalk, our usual walking route. We’d gotten about halfway up their sidewalk when he started barking like mad again.

  “What’s the matter, Chessy?” asked Jax, leaning down to give him a pet.

  I pointed at their lawn, where there was a pile of orange mush in the grass. “Look, more smashed pumpkins.”

  Jax gawked. “I seriously can’t believe it’s happening all over town.”

  “Me either. Whoever’s doing it has to be pretty brave. You’d think they’d know the whole town’s on high alert now.”

  We got to the end of the block, and as I knew he would, Chesney finally decided to do his business on his favorite fire hydrant. On the way home, Jax pointed out the house where she was sure the strange old man we’d seen sitting outside Beasley’s lived. The mailbox out front read Arnold.

  “He doesn’t have a puddle of orange in his yard,” she pointed out.

  “You’re surprised? Does he seem like a holiday decorator to you?”

  Jax giggled just as the house’s front door opened and a man hobbled outside, holding onto a cane for support. Slowly, he crossed his porch and sat down in his usual chair.

  “Yup, that’s the same guy, all right,” I muttered under my breath.

  “Good morning,” Jax chirped, waving like a lunatic.

  He looked over at us but didn’t respond.

  “It’s a beautiful day, isn’t it?” Jax continued.

  “Jax,” I whispered under my breath. “I don’t think he’s in the mood to talk.”

  “Maybe he just needs a friend?” She shrugged.

  “Jax, no,” I hissed, but she’d already started up his front walk.

  Halfway up the sidewalk, Jax turned around. “You can go on without me, Mercy. I’ll catch up.”

  I didn’t care if I had permission to leave her or not. There was no way I was leaving Jax alone with some strange man. Even if it was just a couple houses down. Ches and I remained rooted in place.

  When she got to the bottom of his front steps, Jax tried again. She wiggled her fingers at him. “Hi, I’m Jax and that’s my roommate, Mercy, and our dog, Chesney.”

  I gave a stiff, uncomfortable wave when the man looked back at me.

  He kept his thin white lips pressed tightly together and didn’t move a muscle.

  “We were just out for a walk and noticed the whole neighborhood had their pumpkins smashed last night. Did you have the same thing happen to you?”

  “I don’t own any pumpkins,” he stated gruffly.

  “Ohhhh.” Jax’s eyes widened dramatically. “So, gosh, I can’t believe we’ve lived next door to you for weeks now and we don’t even know your name.”

  The man didn’t say anything.

  Jax tried prompting him. “And, so, it’s….”

  “Harvey,” he finally said, though it was clear he didn’t really want to share.

  “It’s nice to meet you, Harvey.”

  A loud banging noise came from the inside of his house then.

  “Oh, I’m sorry to keep you. Do you have company?” asked Jax.

  “That’s just my brother,” said the man.

  Chesney, losing interest in the man, began sniffing around Harvey’s grass.

  Jax smiled. “Oh, your brother. Does he live here too?”

  Harvey lifted a shoulder. “Eh, sometimes.”

  “What’s your brother’s name?”

  Ignoring Jax’s question, Harvey pointed one gnarled finger towards Chesney. “Miss, that dog of yours had better not poop on my lawn.”

  Immediately I looked down at Chesney to see that he was most definitely doing his distinctive poop walk. In fact, he seemed frantic—it was coming. I wanted to tug him away before it was too late, but I didn’t want to leave Jax. “He’s right, Jax. Come on.”

  Jax sighed. “Okay, well, it was nice to meet you, Harvey. We’ll come visit you again soon.”

  I tugged Chesney down the sidewalk.

  Just as we were about to leave, Jax turned back to wave at him. “My roommate is a baker. We’ll bring you some of her zucchini bread the next time we go for a walk. It’s super yummy! You’ll love it! Bye, Harvey.”

  6

  Thirty minutes later, the girls and I were in Sweets’ car sitting along a curb in the Newbury Heights development. Within minutes of arriving, we’d noticed orange messes covering numerous lawns.

  Holly’s nose wrinkled. “You think these are still here from Thursday night?”

  Alba shook her head. “There’s no way—it’s Sunday. These are nice houses. They’re not gonna leave pumpkin guts all over their lawns for three days. They’d have flies like crazy.”

  “That means they got hit again,” I said.

  “Wow. That is so mean,” said Jax.

  Squinting and leaning over the steering wheel, Sweets pointed down the street. “Girls, look. Isn’t that the woman we saw at Beasley’s the other day?”

  We all stared.

  Alba was the first to nod. “It’s totally her. Hurry, Sweets, get over there before she goes back inside.”

  Sweets’s tires squealed as we tore off down the block before coming to a screeching halt in front of the woman’s house. We climbed out of the car, and the woman looked up curiously from the pile of orange she’d been staring at.

  “Hey, excuse me,” hollered Alba. “You remember us? From the pumpkin patch the other day?”

  Looking barely awake in her robe and house slippers, the woman cupped a hand over her forehead and squinted at us. “Yeah, I remember you.” She pointed at her lawn. “They did it again—the little jerks!”

  We walked up the sidewalk to look down at her smashed pumpkins.

  “Aww, they killed your poor pumpkins.” Jax frowned. “That’s so sad.”

  “Tell me about it. These three were all new. My kids are gonna lose their marbles when they see this.”

  “They got our house too,” said Sweets.

  “Our whole block, actually,” I added.

  “We came to do a little investigating,” explained Alba. “See if we can’t figure out who did it.”

  “Have at ’em,” said the woman, throwing an exasperated hand out. “But the police already questioned the teenagers down the street.”

  “So the police are definitely involved?” asked Sweets.

  She nodded. “Yeah. Our HOA met and our president went to the police.”

  “I’m sorry, what’s your name?” asked Sweets, holding her hand out to the woman. “I’m Sweets. These are my roommates, Mercy, Alba, Holly, and Jax.”

  “I’m Chelsea.” Shaking Sweets’s hand, Chelsea looked at the rest of us curiously. “All five of you live together?”

  “Actually there’s seven of us,” said Jax.

  “Wow. Seven of you in one house?”

  Jax nodded. “It’s a big house.”

  “I’d say.”

  “So, which of your neighbors did you think was responsible?” asked Alba, cutting to the chase.

  Chelsea pointed down the street and to the right. “See that last house there? The two-story? That’s Roger and Jerri Mullens’s place.
They have three boys, Michael, Tyler, and Max. They’re little hellions. I would’ve put all my money on them, but apparently the police don’t think it was them.”

  “They said that?” asked Alba.

  Chelsea shrugged. “I watched the police come and go yesterday. The boys are still there. If it was them, there weren’t any repercussions.”

  “But that doesn’t mean they aren’t still under suspicion,” I said.

  “True. As far as I’m concerned, you’re welcome to have at ’em. Their parents are a ball of fun too.” She snuffed air out her nose. “Lemme know if you find out differently.”

  “Will do,” said Jax.

  We started to walk away. We’d gotten about halfway down her front walk when Alba stopped and turned around. “Hey, didn’t you say one of your neighbors has a porch camera?”

  “Yeah. Muriel Sparrow. She’s in that house, right there.” She pointed across the street to a lemon yellow house kiddie corner from hers.

  “Have you seen the footage?”

  “I haven’t, but the police have,” said Chelsea. “Muriel said it didn’t help them.”

  “Think she’d let us see it?” I asked.

  “Yeah, maybe. Tell her I sent you.” A shout followed by a scream inside her house had her turning around. “Kids are up. I gotta go. Good luck with your investigation. I hope you find the little buggers.”

  “Thanks for your help, Chelsea,” said Sweets.

  We left her place and made a beeline for the Sparrow residence, where we discovered that either no one was home or they weren’t awake yet.

  “Let’s try the Mullenses’,” said Alba, leading us back down the Sparrows’ driveway towards the sidewalk.

  “But, if the police have already come and gone, do you really think they’ll want to talk to us?” asked Jax.

  “Probably not,” said Alba.

  As we walked down the sidewalk, Holly twirled a lock of blond hair around her finger. “Chelsea made it sound like the parents aren’t very friendly.”

  Sweets frowned. “So then how are we gonna get the boys to talk?”

  Alba chuckled. “Don’t worry, girls. I’ve dealt with people like that my whole life. Lemme handle things. I got this.”

  Nervous energy sizzled through my body as we walked up the Mullenses’ walk. Alba knocked on the door.

  It took a long couple of moments before a tall, rake thin man with dark hair opened the door. “Yes, can I help you?”

  “Hey, are you Mr. Mullens?”

  “Yes.” Hearing his name, he sounded slightly more interested.

  “Yeah, the, uh, cops sent us down here. We’re investigating the pumpkin smashing incident that’s been going on all over town. We were told your boys are persons of interest in the case,” Alba lied.

  The man frowned. “My boys have already spoken to the police. They told them they weren’t involved.”

  “Alba,” Sweets hissed, clearly uncomfortable with Alba lying about the police sending us over.

  Alba swatted at her and kept going. “Mind if we speak with them ourselves?”

  The man looked confused. “I’m sorry. Who are you again?”

  “We’re students at the Paranormal Institute,” she said. “We were asked to investigate the matter using our, uh, talents.” She leaned in slightly to look inside the house.

  He lowered his brows, appearing skeptical. “And exactly what talents would those be?”

  Alba didn’t mince words. “I’m a mind reader. I know when people are lying.”

  The man was quiet for a moment and then said, “Well, my boys aren’t home. They slept over at their grandmother’s house last night.”

  Alba stared at him harder. Then she snuffed air out her nose. “Please. You call that a test?” Rolling her eyes, she pushed her way past him into his house. “You could’ve at least put a little more effort into the lie. Made it somewhat convincing? That was too easy.”

  “Hey! Where are you going? I didn’t invite you in!” He chased after her. “Don’t your kind have to—I don’t know, be invited in?”

  “No, that’s vampires,” chirped Jax as we all followed him inside. “We’re witches. Witches don’t have to wait for an invitation.”

  “Polite witches do,” Sweets muttered under her breath.

  As she wandered, Alba’s eyes drifted towards the stairs. “So the boys are upstairs, huh? How ’bout you get ’em for us, so we can be on our way?”

  “They’re sleeping,” he answered in a huff. “Now, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  “Look, I don’t care if they’re on the john—we ain’t going anywhere.”

  He took a step towards the end table, where his cell phone sat. “I’m gonna call the police…”

  Alba threw her hands up, letting out a puh sound. “Call ’em. I told you already, they were the ones that sent us here. You think they really believed your little song and dance the other day?”

  “Well, they said they—”

  “Sure, they said that,” Alba cut him off, “but the second they left your place, they called us. All right? But we had stuff to do. We’re not just sittin’ around, twiddlin’ our thumbs, waitin’ for the cops to call. We got lives, ya know.” She put a hand on her hip. “Now look. We were given a job to do and the only thing that’s gonna get us to leave is if your boys come down here right now and answer our questions. They tell us the truth and we’ll be on our way. They lie and that’s when we got problems.” Alba slowly spun around until we stood behind her. She folded her arms over her chest and tipped her head sideways.

  With my arms crossed over my chest like Alba’s, I did my best to look threatening. From my peripheral vision, I could see Holly and Jax trying to do the same.

  When Mr. Mullens didn’t move, I finally broke the silence, “Look, Mr. Mullens. My friend’s right. The sooner we talk to your boys, the sooner we leave.”

  The man sighed. “Boys, get down here! Now!”

  ❖

  “I can’t believe it wasn’t them either,” said Holly. “I was sure it was going to be. Did you see them? Those boys totally looked like little hellions to me.”

  Alba shrugged. “Looks can be deceiving. All I know is that they were telling the truth.”

  We were parked in an empty parking lot at the Aspen Falls Park, trying to decide what to do next. We’d just left Don Emery’s house after questioning his thirteen-year-old twin boys about the pumpkin smashing over in Mrs. Gardner’s neighborhood on Friday night. Not only had they had an alibi—they’d been with their mother across town that night—but just like she’d been able to do with the Mullens boys, Alba had discerned that they were telling the truth. Neither set of boys had had anything to do with the pumpkin smashing.

  “Well, if it’s not the Emery boys or the Mullens boys, then who?” asked Holly. “Different teenagers?”

  Sweets wrung her hands in front of herself. “I don’t know, girls, there are probably a hundred or more teenage boys in Aspen Falls,” said Sweets. “We can’t exactly go around questioning all of them.”

  “Especially when we don’t even know that it was teenagers,” said Jax. “It could’ve been anybody.”

  “I agree with Jax,” I said. “The only reason we set our sights on teenagers was because those two women both thought it was people in their neighborhoods. We’ve proven they were wrong. I think it’s time to broaden our possible suspects list.”

  Jax threw out her hands in a shrug. “But how do we do that? Where would we even start?”

  “I’ll tell ya where. We gotta get our hands on that porch cam,” said Alba knowingly. “What do you girls say we run back over to Newbury Heights and see if that Sparrow woman is home or awake by now?”

  Sweets put the car in reverse. “I’m on my way.”

  7

  Sweets pulled her car into the Sparrows’ driveway behind a canary-yellow Nissan Xterra with a black luggage rack on the roof.

  “I don’t think this vehicle was here the last ti
me we were here,” said Holly.

  “No, I definitely didn’t see it,” I agreed before climbing out of the car.

  As we walked single-file around the SUV towards the house, Sweets looked back at us. “Please tell me we’re not letting Alba do the talking again?”

  At the head of the line, Alba stopped walking and spun around to gesture towards herself. “Hey. Alba gets results.”

  Holly giggled. “She’s blunt, but she’s right, Sweets.”

  Sweets sighed. “I don’t mind her being blunt, Holl. But does she have to be so rude about it?”

  Alba curled a lip. “Someone wanna tell me why we’re talkin’ about me like I’m not even here?”

  Sweets sighed and tipped her head to the side. “You can’t try and be a little nicer, Alba?”

  “Nice gets you cupcakes, Sweets. Rude gets results.”

  “I happen to like cupcakes.” Sweets shrugged.

  “Yeah, well, we need results, not muffin tops. Okay?”

  Sweets rolled her eyes. “Fine. Whatever. Do it your way.”

  “Thank you.” Alba adjusted her shirt and then knocked on the door.

  It took only a second before a short, pear-shaped woman in sweatpants and a Sanderson Sisters T-shirt came to the door eating a donut. She had long, slightly moppish salt-and-pepper hair that hung down her shoulders. “Morning girls,” she sang as if she’d been expecting us.

  “Uh, Muriel?” said Alba.

  “Yes. Muriel Sparrow, at your service.”

  “Hi, I’m Alba Sanchez and these are my roommates.”

  “Witches from the Paranormal Institute, right?” Muriel looked each of us up and down. Shaking her head, she clicked her tongue. “You girls just get younger and younger every year.”

  Surprised that she knew who we were, Alba frowned. “Yeah.”

  She nodded. “And you’re here to see the video my porch cam caught of the pumpkin-smashing incidents?”

  Alba’s brows lowered further. “Yeah. Did Chelsea warn you we were coming?”

  “Oh, no. I just knew.” Leaving the door wide open, she spun around, twirled a hand in the air, and took off across her living room. “Come on in. I just put on a pot of coffee. Sorry I was gone when you first stopped by. I thought it might be nice if I ran out and got us donuts. I’m not really much for baking, like your friend there.” We all looked over at Sweets.