Stanley was in
tears, and Dennis the goldfish was doing his best to comfort his owner. “Thath the thaddetht thtory I ever heard!”
the boy lisped. “Did the pumpkinth ever
become friendth again?”
“No, Stanley,
they never did,” Pumpkin replied. “They
probably never will. I don’t know if
I’ll even be able to return to my home in Armenor. It seems that the Halloween friends are stuck
here for good.”
“I wouldn’t say
that,” said Awana reassuringly. “Have
faith. You will go back to your home. I
just know it. It sounds like there is
still a lot of work you need to do in Armenor.
You have to go back.”
“There just
seems to be no way.” The little squash’s voice had never sounded so morose.
“Thanks for
telling us all of that, buddy,” Jonathan told him, patting him gratefully. “I know it wasn’t easy, but I think it was
important that you told us.”
“Yeah, and Pumpkin,
look on the bright side,” said Jonathan’s father. “There’s caviar and crackers all over the
floor. Other families don’t have that
luxury.”
“Very true,
Pumpkin,” Ghost interjected. “At least
we have that.”
“Dagnabbit, you
worthless husband of mine!” screamed Jonathan’s mother, storming into the house
and causing everyone to jump in fear.
“Just kidding, dear. You just
forgot to check the mail yesterday. I
got it, though. Just bills, my monthly Cooking with Crabs magazine, and—oh!
Something for Jonathan. And it looks to
be addressed in very fine and flowing handwriting. You have a little girlfriend on the side,
Jonathan?”
“WHAT?” Awana
screeched, hurdling across the room and seizing the envelope. “Johnny boy, is there something you need to
tell me?”
Jonathan
twitched nervously. “No, hon—wait! I
don’t need to answer to you! We’re not dating anymore, remember?”
“Dang!” Awana
sulked. “I was really hoping I’d be able
to trick you into being my boyfriend again.
It worked a couple weeks ago.”
“Give me that,
woman!” Jonathan demanded.
“I’m no woman!”
the girl retorted, sticking out her tongue.
“Is anyone here
really surprised?” Ghost asked, looking around.
“No? Thought so.”
Jonathan’s eyes
moved toward the wall behind Awana. “Oh,
hey, Frankenstein’s monster! I’m so glad you managed to stop by!”
Awana whirled around,
and Jonathan sprang forward like a jackrabbit.
He landed on her back, wrapped his legs around her, brought her down to
the floor, and tore the envelope from her hands. Then he jumped to his feet and cried,
“Victory!”
“Johnny boy, you
could have just asked,” Awana whined, dusting herself off as she rose. “I guess it was kind of hot, though.”
The boy opened
the envelope and pulled out a folded piece of lined paper. Pumpkin, Ghost, Awana, and Stanley huddled
around him as he unfolded the paper, and they noticed that the handwriting was,
indeed, that of a woman—or perhaps a very effeminate man. Jonathan began to read it aloud:
“Dearest Jonathan and friends,
I decided not to bring up this ill
news until I was completely sure what it meant.
You see, dearies, at the end of our last adventure, we did well when we
defeated Professor Aponowatsomidichloron. He had been working on a potion, if you
remember, that would rid the world of the memory of Thanksgiving. This potion died with him. As his lab broke into pieces, we fled, and I
picked up a note that I found on the ground.
The note was written in the Weöstrif language,
which, as my good friends should know, is the ancient Wizard tongue in
Armenor. I know only very little of the
language, and so I consulted Kory about it.
As he was the creator of the language, he knew more than I; but alas!
for he created the language when he was very young, and had forgotten most of
the words. And so Frankenstein’s monster
and I did some traveling, and happened upon a library that carried a rare
volume Kory had written long ago: The Weöstrif Handbook.
Frankenstein’s
monster and I studied this book for some time, and we translated as much of the
note as we could. And we discovered that
the letter was written by the character known as M.D., whom we still have not
identified; it was addressed to the professor.
It turns out that the professor and M.D. originally intended to create
six potions. The following data is as
much as we could decipher given the clues within the note:
Potion
1: Memory of Halloween erased
Potion
2: Resurrection of dead bodies
Potion 3: Goodness turned to blight (which
we understand to be a perversion of someone or something well-known to the
world, likely a person or thing tied to some holiday)
Potion 4: Memory of Thanksgiving erased
Potion 5: Memory of Christmas erased
Potion 6: Potion that creates portals
between earth and Armenor
The
effects of potion 1 have been reversed because of our actions on
Halloween. We also know that we stopped
potion 4. From the note, we have learned
that potion 5 was not even designed at the time of M.D.’s writing, and thus its
design died with the professor. So I
will repeat the list above, but this time, the potions that we do not need to
be concerned about will be crossed out.
Potion
2: Resurrection of dead bodies
Potion 3: Goodness turned to blight
Potion 6: Potion that creates portals
between earth and Armenor
Recall
what the professor sang before our battle with him: ‘two [potions] are safe in
the hands of M.D.’ Which of the two potions does this person have access to?
And does he or she have any chance of using the third? To completely stop
Professor Apo’s plans, dearies, we need to stop this M.D. And somehow, we have to destroy these
remaining potions. I personally think it would be beneficial to everyone if we
do the following: we invest in a colossal cauldron forged of dragon bones (and aged
at least 500 years); we fill it with swamp water, a few dragonfly eyes, the
tongue of a lizard, three handfuls of ectoplasm (not from a dead Wizard, though,
because that junk reeks of old people), the tear of a Giant, and the feathers
that collect around a hawk’s tookus; then we stir it all together, chant the
Primeval Mystic’s Refrain (PMR) over it, and throw it at M.D.’s face. Assuming he or she has a face. Assuming it is a he or she.
Lastly, I leave you with this: by the time
you receive this letter, M.D. is going to act soon. Very soon.
In fact, in the note to the professor, she wrote the following:
‘The bird shall
be awakened on the day of thanks, and thereupon cause chaos on the earth.’
This is cryptic, to say the least. All that I can tell you is to be very, very
vigilant on the day they call ‘Thanksgiving’ here. Something very bad is going to happen. Keep your weapon near, and your friends even
nearer. And if possible, keep your
flying broom even nearer than that.
Frankenstein’s monster sends his regards. At least, I think he does. He’s so philosophical all the time, it’s hard
to figure out what the heck he’s talking about.
Something wicked this way comes.
Respectfully Yours,
Witch
Jonathan
folded the note up, put it in the envelope, and placed it in his pocket. There was silence for about a minute, and
then he looked at Pumpkin. “Pumpkin,
grab your sword.”
“Are you hitting on me, Jonathan?”
“Just get it!”
The squash moved as quickly as his legs
would allow him, and he left the room.
He returned with his sword sheathed at his side. Stanley held even tighter to his fish bowl,
and Dennis the goldfish held tightly to a decorative treasure chest at the
bottom of the bowl. Awana stood with her
feet shoulder-width apart and her fists raised.
Ghost created an ethereal bow and a quiver with fiery blue arrows, and
he had one arrow drawn. Jonathan’s
father rose to his feet and held a pig ear menacingly. Jonathan’s mother had her Cooking with Crabs magazine rolled up in
one hand, brandishing it in different directions. Jonathan proceeded to pet Ms. Unicorn.
They exchanged glances with one another,
and at a later time they would swear that they heard their hearts beating madly
as they waited for some foreboding sign.
Just when they thought they could wait no longer, there was a loud and
abrupt pound that came from
nearby. They turned toward the sound,
but then there was silence. Pumpkin shuddered
and drew his sword, and then a pound
pound came from the same area. No
one moved. Whatever the sound was, it
was close. Too close. Nothing stirred for a few seconds, and then a
wild pound pound pound broke into the
air.
“There’s something in the oven,” said
Jonathan’s mother.
At that moment, the oven door crashed open
with an enormous, grating din, and a seemingly lifeless figure slid across the
floor. It was unclear what exactly they
were seeing at first, but then the creature turned toward them with a
sigh. Everyone gasped. Before them, lying on the kitchen floor, was
a pumpkin wearing a cape.
Chapter 2
Flight
Super Pumpkin lifted himself up
onto his feet, and seemed very confused at first. Once he noticed the awestruck group standing
before him, he was instantly alert.
“You! You people! Do not let it escape! If it gets away, you are
bringing doom on yourselves!”
“What the mother?” said
Pumpkin. “Super Pumpkin? Is that really
you?”
“Pumpkin, we do not have time for
this,” said the caped squash. “Prepare
yourself. Things are about to get
wild—and not the good kind.”
Jonathan shook his head and
stepped into the kitchen. “You do realize how ridiculous you’re
sounding right now, don’t you? Besides,
why should we listen to someone who wears a cape? Superheroes aren’t real.”
Awana hurried to his side. “Don’t provoke him, Johnny boy. He looks a little wild in the eyes. Let’s go back to the couch and spoon.”
The boy sighed. “Maybe later.
We need to figure out why the heck there’s a squash other than Pumpkin
standing in my kitchen.”
Just as he finished speaking,
there was a pound pound and Super Pumpkin
braced himself. All of a sudden, a
turkey—fully feathered—emerged from the oven and raced across the kitchen floor
toward its caped adversary. Super
Pumpkin had not been adequately prepared for its speed and strength, however,
because it easily knocked him to the side and continued its mad dash across the
kitchen tile. Jonathan, somehow newly
imbued with fast reflexes, dove forward and latched on to the bird’s
hindquarters. Its speed was unaffected;
in fact, it accelerated and whipped a corner so that it faced the front door of
the house. Awana screamed and sprinted
after the turkey and the boy she loved, but she was taken aback when the
creature sped directly into the door and smashed it to splinters. It flapped its wings and began to ascend into
the air. At the last moment, Awana
bounded through the doorway and clutched Jonathan’s legs. And so it was that the Thanksgiving turkey,
carrying two unwanted passengers, escaped the house and began to fly away.
“This is what happens when you
distract me, Pumpkin!” Super Pumpkin roared.
“I could have halted his flight, and that would mean one less minion for
M.D.’s evil purposes!”
“What?” Pumpkin asked,
bewildered. “M.D.? You know about
him/her/it?”
“There is no time for this!” The
caped squash turned around. “I need to
go after that winged beast!”
“How are you going to do that?”
His cousin turned toward him and
said smoothly, “I can fly.” He then
charged toward the living room, his cape billowing behind him. But Pumpkin had not been idle. Before his cousin could rise into the air,
Pumpkin followed him with astonishing alacrity and grabbed onto his cape. Ghost looked at Jonathan’s parents and
Stanley with a countenance that appeared both mournful and apologetic, and without
a word, he floated after his sky-bound companions.
“You get ‘em, Johnny!” cheered
Mrs. Legcheese.
Stanley frowned. “Tho, no turkey, then?”
The turkey’s speed as it sliced
crisply through the air was disturbing, and Jonathan was having trouble
clinging to the beast’s body. Awana
dangled below, trying to keep her eyes off the rooftops and roads hundreds of
feet below. She glanced back and noticed
Super Pumpkin jetting after them. His
cape undulated vigorously against the wind, and his arms were thrust forward
like those of a stereotypical superhero.
Pumpkin hugged the end of his cousin’s cape for dear life, hoping that
it would not tear off during their swift flight. Ghost, twirling through the air like an
unearthly dreidel, trailed not far behind.
“We’ll be ok, Johnny boy!”
shouted Awana. “Pumpkin and Ghost are
with us. And Super Pumpkin, but I don’t
know if that’s a good thing.”
“That’s great!” Jonathan
responded, nearly weeping. “But I don’t
think they can save us if we fall a thousand feet to our deaths!”
“A thousand feet?” Awana managed
to look down, and her heart nearly leapt to her throat. “Oh God, that’s terrifying. But I think we’re only about six hundred feet
above the ground.”
“Oh, ok, good.”
“Where the freak is this thing
taking us?”
“I have no idea!” Jonathan gazed
ahead and saw that they were approaching a range of mountains. “We’re heading toward the Vaca Mountains,
kind of near the place where Professor Apo had his camp! Do you think he’s
taking us there?”
“How do we know it’s a he,
Johnny?” Awana clutched his leg even tighter.
“Sexism is a really unattractive trait.”
“No, we can’t be heading
there. The turkey would be descending by
now. It looks like we’re going
northwest.”
“I’m glad one of us has a decent
sense of direction!” Awana squealed. She
looked back once again. “Pumpkin, are
you alive back there?”
“I hate everything!” the squash
shrieked his reply.
“Pumpkin seems fine, Johnny,” the
young girl informed him. “Let’s just
pray that we all manage to hold on until we reach—wherever it is we’re going.”
The rolling mountains unfolded
below and ahead of them, their tree-laden slopes stretching east like vast,
green tendrils. Although they appeared
beautiful and verdant from afar, Jonathan knew that a fall would mean instant
death. If, by luck or grace, the thick
leaves of Vacaville’s oak trees slowed a sudden unwanted descent, the ancient
boughs or jagged boulders—presently concealed—would find their victim. From time to time a lake or large pond would
appear, embedded like a crater between grassy slopes. Rarer still was the occasional house or
ranch. But in this part of California,
any sign of man was scarce, and nature was everywhere. Jonathan was accustomed to seeing homes and
people—seemingly omnipresent—and infrequent stretches of nature whenever he
went outside. Even in his terror, he
could not help but realize that nature was immeasurably larger than man. It was as if humanity, inflated with a high
degree of self-importance, had attempted to minimize nature and maximize itself. As he gazed upon the mountains, spread
everywhere in jade like the grand brushstrokes of an artist, he knew that such
an exercise was futile. At best, nature
and man depended on one another; but nature was something that man could never
fully dominate.
Jonathan shook his head, trying
to keep himself from fainting. He wished
that he could claim all these profound thoughts as the internal ramblings of a
genius, but it was probably the unhealthy amount of air entering his nose and mouth
as the turkey carried him hastily across the sky. Between his squinted eyes, he could see the
arms of a lake lashing out and splitting the land ahead of them.
“Awana, what is that up there?”
he asked.
“What is what?”
“Doesn’t that look like water to
you?”
She squinted and looked down their
flight path. “Yeah. You said we’re going northwest, didn’t you?”
“Yep,” replied Jonathan, “and we
haven’t changed direction much.”
“Then that has to be Lake
Berryessa. Maybe the turkey is heading
there. It would be great if it flew
lower and dropped us into the water.”
“My only concern right now,
Awana, is if the turkey is going to stop flying at all. I mean, just look at him. I have only seen that look of determination
on one other creature, and that is Ms. Unicorn (bless her heart).”
Awana shivered as the brisk air
caused a chill to run through her body.
“If it looks determined, then it’s probably determined to reach its
destination.”
“Let’s hope so!”
It was not long before the
expansive spread of Berryessa’s aero blue waters unfurled before them in
shining splendor, interrupted now and again by sharp cuts of jasmine shore and
rich, green trees. In the southeastern
region of the lake, massive blades of water rived the land in various
directions before connecting to a single tributary; then the water burst into
the northwest and formed the main body of Berryessa. It was at this time that Jonathan and Awana
looked straight ahead, into the cloudless sky, and noticed innumerable black
figures flitting toward a single point above the lake. They could not believe what they were
seeing. Hundreds of turkeys fluttered
frantically from every direction. They
aimed for what appeared to be a sickly, blackish-purple orb of light suspended
a thousand feet above the water.
Jonathan fixed his attention on the orb, and was shocked when he saw a
turkey touch its outer edges and disappear in an instant.
“Oh, heck no!” he screamed, his
voice cracking. “No! We are not going
to…God knows where. We need to stop this
flight, now. Come on, Awana! Help me!”
He then began to pull at the turkey with all his might, forcing the creature to
drop a couple dozen feet in a second.
“Jonathan, you’re going to get us
killed!” Awana was nearly in tears.
The boy ignored her, continuing
to disrupt the bird’s flight path. “I’d
rather be dead than stuck in another dimension with no way to get home!”
Awana dug her fingernails into
Jonathan’s legs until it hurt. “Think
about the children, Johnny boy!”
“What children?”
“It’s a simile.”
“I’m not in the mood for your
antics, Awana,” said Jonathan, looking down at her with furrowed eyebrows. “We have to stop this thing!”
“But…but…what does Ms. Unicorn
think?” Awana inquired, tugging at him.
“I don’t know her half as well as you do, but I think she’d want you to
face this head-on.”
The boy sighed. “Well…uh—I guess you’re right. I’m ashamed to admit it, but she’s been
screaming at me from my pocket for the last thirty seconds. She thinks we should go into the portal.” He
sighed again. “I suppose I’m
outvoted. Well, here we go!”
The turkey, more desperate than
ever, recovered the distance it had lost in its struggle with its passenger and
increased its speed. The glowing orb was
close now. Awana looked behind her and
saw Super Pumpkin facing ahead with an intrepid expression. Pumpkin dangled behind, probably unaware of
the spiraling vortex ahead of them.
Ghost wove through the air, dodging around turkeys that would not be
able to hit him if they tried. Awana
glanced above her and shuddered as the dark creatures blotted out the sun. And then everything went black.
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