The Holiday Pentalogy, which began in 2005, ends here. We have followed the journey of Jonathan Legcheese, Awana Humphfree, and the Halloween Friends over the past fourteen years, but now the story must come to an end. This is quite difficult for me to admit, as I have really come to adore these characters! I must thank all my faithful readers and assure you that while this is the end of one story, a larger world is about to open up in my literary universe. Check in regularly to see what is about to unfold!
Epilogue
Halloween
The Halloween Friends were not known for their creativity. Deciding that saving time was preferable to
searching for new garb, they went about the neighborhoods in their costumes
from the previous year. Witch, forgetting
that she was a centenarian, roamed around in her green dinosaur outfit and
roared periodically. Ghost dressed as a
mummy again, but he also covered himself in fake spiderwebs just to troll Tom
Legcheese. Frankenstein’s monster draped
himself in the clothing of Dracula and spoke with a Slavic accent the entire
night. Bat dressed like a ghost and haunted
Ghost, terrifying the poor specter every seven minutes. Cat was a yellow Labrador, but because she
knew that she was not very convincing, she added some extra “oomph” to the
getup by fetching sticks and dropping them at Awana’s feet. Super Pumpkin did not understand the holiday
and refused to participate, but because he kept his cape on, people remarked
that this was the cutest rendition of Superman they had ever seen. Pumpkin again dressed like a Jonathan, but
with fully updated features; his icicle beard was a bit longer, his mustache
fuller, and his biceps no longer looked like twigs. Jonathan and Awana, opting to be more
adventurous than the others—and feeling a bit spicy—were salt and pepper
shakers (respectively).
Despite the chaos of the evening,
most of the town’s citizens seemed eager to reclaim the holiday spirit and pass
out treats. Of course, there was the odd
neighbor who had encountered too much excitement for one day and shut off the
lights of his or her house. As the group
meandered through the area, their pillowcases ever ready for more candy, they
overheard the news playing on the television in one man’s garage; it was agreed
that the attacks, which ranged from Vacaville to Vallejo, were simply intricate
pranks unleashed by legions of bored teenagers all across the county. However, numerous witnesses claimed that they
had been bitten or otherwise injured by real creatures—though they no longer
had the wounds to prove it. The
Vacaville PD vowed to start a full-length investigation some time the following
year.
It was not until their cases were
overflowing, and the moon was already high above in the star-specked (and now
cloudless) sky, that they concluded their adventure. They crested the highest hill of a park in
the downtown area and sat on the edge of a stone stage, upon which kids usually
performed plays or dances. To get more
comfortable, they removed their costumes.
Those among the Fellowship of Halloween fortunate enough to have legs
were swinging them gleefully; all of them, regardless of their appendages,
busied themselves with the consumption of treats. Jonathan happened to gaze up between the
trees that littered the park and saw the mansion of the Man with the Green Toe
glistening in the moonlight. I wonder
if he’s watching right now, thought the young man. I wonder if he knows that we’ve won. I wonder if he knows what I’m going to do
next. He hopped off the stage and
went to Super Pumpkin, who was standing off to the side.
“So I see that you got your
power back, too,” said the caped squash.
“I am quite pleased with my abilities, but I must say that I have seen
few things as powerful as the written word.”
“There is nothing more powerful than
the Word,” was Jonathan’s answer, “but I don’t really know the extent of my
power. Santa told me that life and death
are in my hands. Kory Labarga told me
that he gave me the exact gift he has.
It’s time for me to put that to the test.” Judging by the very happy
look on Super Pumpkin’s face (but to be fair, Jonathan did forget for a second
that jack-o'-lanterns are always happy), the caped squash knew what he
was getting at. The young man walked up
to Pumpkin and crouched down. “How’d you
do, Pumpkin?”
The squash tossed some gummy worms
into his mouth. “I did great, Jonathan!
I love candy almost as much as I love bloodshed.” He patted his sheathed
sword. “This ol’ boy saw quite a bit of
action today!”
Jonathan’s eyes widened. “Your sword is a male? Since when?! I thought
we were BFFs after all our quality time together; you’re supposed to tell me
everything!”
“Don’t worry, bud, you’re the first
to know.” He drew his sword, which he had cleaned (thankfully). “I call him ‘SOP!’ Sword of Pumpkin!”
Jonathan looked at him
stupidly. “SOP. You named him SOP. Dude, seriously? I named my car after
you!”
“‘SOJ’ just doesn’t have the same
ring to it,” grieved Pumpkin. “I know,
tragic.”
“Why didn’t you name him ‘Sol’? Sword of Legcheese?”
Pumpkin paused. “That’s an amazing name. OK, forget what I said before. ‘Sol’ is now the name of my sword. I love it.”
Jonathan chuckled, placed a loving
hand on top of the squash, and told him to always take good care of it. Then he moved over to Ghost. “How’d you do, Ghost?”
The ethereal being smiled. “Turns out I can’t interact with chocolate or
even nougat. I’m a little shocked that I
didn’t realize this last year. And that
got me thinking: maybe there are other things I can’t interact with. Who am I, Jonathan? Who am I, really?”
The young man whistled. “Wow, this just got deep really fast.”
Ghost nodded, his eyes sincere at
first. He sulked and began to pout to
himself; then he burst out laughing.
“Pfffft! Oh my gosh, you should see your face! I’m just pulling your
leg, Jonathan. Literally.”
“Ghost, you have never touched a leg
in your life!” Pumpkin argued. “Stop
lying to our fearless leader!”
“I’ve had it up to *here* with your
racist comments, Pumpkin! Besides, I am pulling his leg. See my pillowcase full of candy? I got more
than all of you combined!”
Jonathan noticed a glowing case of
treats that any corporeal being could pass his hand through—but he did not have
the heart to tell Ghost that he was feasting on air. So he went to Frankenstein’s monster. “How’d you do, Frankie?”
The monster ate a handful of
chocolate bars, wrappers and all. “I may
never have a fair grasp on the holidays, but I must confess that these morsels
are altogether scrumptious. ‘tis with
melancholy that I recognize how my creator (the innovative fiend; I loathe him
eternally) never granted me such toothsome boons. I must extend gratitude to you, young
Jonathan, for introducing me to this so-called ‘sugar.’”
The young man nodded in
acknowledgement and stepped over to Witch.
“How’d you do, Witch?”
The hag picked up a chocolate-covered
raisin, eyed it, and tossed it over her shoulder. “Fates, I hate almonds....Eh, what was that,
dearie?” When Jonathan repeated the question, she replied, “Oh, I did just
fine. I acquired everything I need for
my newest potion, which will let me—no no....Nice try, my sweet, but I shall
not spoil the surprise! I’ll be keeping my idea for the next brew to myself.”
“Aww,” said Awana, adoring the
hag. “You’re the best, Witch! Keeping
doing you. Except for the whole pagan
thing. You need to stop that ASAP.”
Jonathan agreed with her and moved
on to Bat. “How’d you do, Bat?”
The winged wonder beamed at him,
revealing fangs plastered with caramel.
“How does it look like I did? My pillowcase is so full, it’s almost as
big as Frankie’s abdomen! And even better, there’s no more Apo! Gosh, what a
great day. Aren’t you proud of me?”
Jonathan felt his eyes burning with
tears. “I am so proud you! You’re the
strongest, bravest, funniest, most optimistic bat I’ve ever met! And I know
that Mr. Cornelius is proud of you, too.”
Bat puffed out his chest
confidently, and Jonathan walked over to Cat.
“How’d you do, Cat?”
“Meow,” said Cat, purring. She circled her pillowcase of candy and
rubbed her head against it.
“You did that well, huh?” The young
man grinned and ran his fingers through her silky fur. “Bat’s lucky to have such a devoted best
friend. Don’t ever leave his side, OK?
And make sure to share some of your candy with him. You know how fast he’ll go through his pile.”
Cat cocked her head
inquisitively. “Meow?”
Jonathan stood within full view of
everyone and looked at each member of the Halloween Friends in turn. Then he breathed a heavy sigh. “You have been the greatest friends a guy
could ever ask for. Our creator
commissioned you to help me stop the professor, but you went above and beyond
that. You stopped Apo once, stopped
M.D., stopped Santa Claws, stopped Apo again, and saved the world. Or I guess I should say…my world. But this isn’t your world. You’ve been here for six years now. Some of you have been good sports about that
fact; others of you have struggled. I
don’t want you to have to struggle with that any longer.”
Pumpkin sheathed his sword. “Jonathan, what are you talking about?
Cornelius has writer’s block, remember? He can’t write us back to Armenor.”
“You’re right, Pumpkin,” said
Jonathan, taking the black notebook from his pocket, “but I can.”
“What?!” asked Awana, growing pale
with surprise. “You—you don’t know if
that’ll work! Johnny boyfriend, think about the children!”
“What children?”
“It’s a metaphor.”
He twirled his beard. “No, I don’t think so.”
Pumpkin stepped forward. “You would really do that for us, Jonathan?
You’d lose seven of your friends all at once! Are you sure?”
The young man nodded. “You have given up more than most in your
time here, but this is not where you belong.
Pumpkin, I want that smile to be more than just something that was
carved into your face. I want it to be
genuine. And I bet Armenor has need of
heroes just as much as earth does. I
don’t want to be selfish and keep you all to myself. You guys deserve to go back home.”
Bat looked to his right and to his left. “We get to go back to Armenor?” he asked, his
voice full of excitement and awe.
“Yes,” answered Jonathan. “Unless anyone protests, I’d like to send all
of you back—together.”
No one said a word, but they
continued to exchange hopeful glances.
Then, at length, Frankenstein’s monster spoke: “Victor Frankenstein, my
creator, perished long ago in this world.
I am sure that the man Cornelius originally sent me to Armenor as a way
that I might find solace from the burdens of earth. Perhaps it is best if I continue my sojourn
with the Fellowship of Halloween in their world. I feel that they are the family I longed for
since my conception, and it would not be easy now to part from them.”
Jonathan offered a small smile. “You don’t have to explain, Frankie. We’ll be OK here. They need your brute strength more than I
do. I have Awana, after all.”
The young woman flexed with several
loud grunts, showing everyone that she was, in fact, super tough.
Witch brandished her flying
broom. “Eh, I am quite fond of you and
Awana, dearie, but Armenor has an abundance of ingredients you cannot find
here. Cheranga butt-hair is particularly
useful—if you’re brave enough to venture close enough to pluck one!”
Awana grimaced.
Pumpkin took several more steps
forward and stared at Jonathan for some time.
Then he bowed a knee and crossed one arm before his body. “You are no child, Jonathan. You have matured before my eyes and grown up
to be a hero. You were exactly what this
world needed. It has been an honor to
fight by your side, to assist you however we could, and to follow you to the
very end. When we get to Armenor and
defend the world, every time I raise my blade I will think of you. Every time we take a stand against evil, I
will remember the example of your unflinching resolve to do your duty. I will never, ever forget you, Jonathan. I promise.
Unless I get dementia.”
Jonathan laughed and a tear rolled
down his cheek. “I’ll never forget you,
Pumpkin. I’ll never forget any of you!
You will always be my best friends. Even
when you are gone, I will read stories of your past exploits, and that way
you’ll always be with me. But for now, I
have one more duty to fulfill.”
The Halloween Friends closed in
around Jonathan and hugged him tightly.
He thought that, for just a moment, he even felt the cool, palpable
touch of Ghost. Oh goodness, why did
they have to hug me? Now this is going to be even harder! Gah I hate this! After
they had released him and stepped back into their places, Cat came forward and
fixed her eyes on the young man. Then
she coughed up a massive furball into his hand, which he accepted with a mix of
gratitude and overwhelming disgust.
Seeming quite proud of herself for producing such a prize, she pranced
back to her spot. Jonathan pocketed the
item and profusely wiped his hand against his black pants.
“I believe it would be wisest to
send us to the city called Zierro,” Super Pumpkin advised. “We would not want you to inadvertently drop
us in Haldrid Castle. King Haldrid makes
Apo and M.D. look like fluffy, innocent hares.
Furthermore, I believe the Night of Ghouls, mine and Pumpkin’s favorite
holiday, is currently taking place in our hometown of Zierro.”
“Zierro,” Jonathan repeated. He opened the notebook. “Understood.”
Those who had eyelids shut them, and
the young man took one last look at his companions, his heart swelling. He put lead to paper and began to write:
“Pumpkin, Ghost, Frankenstein’s
monster, Witch, Bat, Cat, and Super Pumpkin vanished from earth and reappeared
in the city of Zierro, which is in the world of Armenor.”
In an instant, the seven Halloween
Friends disappeared from sight.
Jonathan and Awana held hands and
took their time on the way back home.
Overhead, the sky turned a deeper navy blue, and the stars shone all the
brighter. The couple passed many
well-decorated homes along the way, and they were enamored by the repeated
image of families sitting together in their family rooms, laughing and hovering
over piles of candy. The adults munched
on treats, every bit as excited as their children—some of whom were
experiencing Halloween for the first time.
In one house, Jonathan noticed a child dressed like a puppy who emptied
his jack-o'-lantern-shaped candy pail onto the carpet and started jumping
around as he animatedly told his mother all about his evening. The red-haired woman watched with tender
affection, her facial expression rising and morphing with happiness and
surprise. Her husband, a thin,
long-nosed man, approached from behind and wrapped his arms around her;
together they listened to their child’s tale, mesmerized. Jonathan smiled to himself. I’m going to be eighteen in two years,
he realized, but that doesn’t mean Halloween will have to end for me. It’ll just be different. One day, my child might just have his own
holiday adventures, and I can be there to hear all about it. And steal his candy.
It was quite late when the pair
walked up to the Humphfree property, their pillowcases full and their hearts
fuller. Awana stepped onto the little
cement rostrum in front of her door and turned toward Jonathan.
“Johnny boyfriend,” she breathed,
“it was so nice of you to walk me home, even though you have a perfectly good
vehicular device at your disposal. Don’t
worry, I’ll get my license soon!”
Jonathan reeled. “Oh gosh, sweet potato, I don’t think
Vacaville is ready for that!”
Awana smirked deviously.
“Anyway,” the young man continued,
“I really want to thank you, Awana. When
Apo had me in his clutches, I thought I was dead. I was so sure of it...and then you came out
of nowhere like some kind of superhero! I don’t think I’ve seen ever anyone
move that fast, not even Witch when she thinks she’s discovered a new
mushroom.”
Awana toed the ground. “Aw shucks, sugar, I’d do anything for
you. But I sure am going to miss that
hag.”
“And that squash.” Jonathan pursed
his lips. “Did I do the right thing,
Awana?”
“Of course!” She gave a cute hop to
emphasize her words, but when she landed, she almost toppled over into a
rosebush with thorns that were ten inches long.
Jonathan steadied her at the last second. “You’re the real superhero tonight,” said the
young woman. “If it hadn’t been for you,
Apo would have taken over the world. But
you didn’t settle for saving the world; you sent our friends home, too! That
was so selfless and kind, Johnny boyfriend.
And then you saved me from that deadly rosebush ten seconds ago! But why
is that thing in my front yard?”
Jonathan stepped onto the cement,
placed a hand on her cheek, and kissed her.
“Awana,” he told her, looking into her eyes, “I love you.”
“Yes,” was her response.
He cleared his throat. “Yes?”
“Yes,” she said again. Then her eyebrows furrowed. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t you propose just now?”
Jonathan chuckled and stepped back
down from the cement. “Hold that thought
for about...two years, will ya, darlin’?”
“OK, will do! I love you too, Johnny
boyfriend! I always have. I never had a
‘puppy love’ stage with you, even though it took you about fifty-seven years to
catch up to me.” She put her hands behind her back, beamed at him, and blushed. “But there’s something else I can’t wait two
years to give you. It’s a reward for
being a hero, and for just being you.
Close your eyes, Johnny boyfriend.”
“What?” He got closer to her and
whispered, “Awana, we’re only sixteen and not married yet.”
She punched his shoulder
playfully. “Not that, you silly goose!
Stop being a goose that’s silly! Just close your eyes.”
He did as she asked.
“Now hold out your hands.”
He followed her instructions and
felt a familiar weight drop into his palms.
“Now open your eyes!”
He did so, and he could not quite
believe what he was seeing. There in his
hands, completely intact and glorious, rested Ms. Unicorn. She looked exactly as she had before the corrupted
Santa had crushed her to pieces. Not a
crack or dent was visible in her smooth surface. It was as if she had never been a victim of
Apo’s devices.
“Don’t grow up too fast, Johnny boyfriend,” said Awana with a wink.
“How--how did you do this?” asked Jonathan. “You--you were the one who picked up her shards
that night? Was she put back together when I wrote Apo out of existence?”
“No, that wasn’t it,” Awana replied. “I spent ten months piecing her together,
making sure you wouldn’t be able to see the slightest seam or crease in
her. So what do you think? Did I do a
good job?”
Jonathan marveled. “She’s
perfect. Absolutely perfect! I have
never seen anything so beautiful!” Then he whirled around and lifted Ms.
Unicorn high into the air. At that exact
moment there was a shooting star, and its reflection traced her majestic body
ever so slowly. Simultaneously,
moonlight showered upon her and burst back from her shining coat, drenching the
entire area in sparkles theretofore unknown in that region. Jonathan thought he heard her let out a
victorious neigh. He looked up at her in
wonder, his heart leaping exuberantly.
His pride and joy was back in his hands.
“I immediately regret this,” Awana said sourly.
Jonathan turned around again and hugged his girlfriend. “Thank you so much, Awana! I love you. You knew how much Ms. Unicorn meant to me,
and you fixed her all by yourself. Thank
you!”
Awana hugged him tighter. “I
regret this a little less, now.”
He released her and breathed ice crystals into the cold autumn
air. “This really turned out to be a
wonderful day. I have great candy, a
great girlfriend, and a great unicorn.
I’m so glad we won, once and for all! Oh...and I know my parents will
want to make sure I’m OK; I guess I should start walking home before it gets
too late. Thank you for always being so
patient with me, Awana. For loving me so
well, and for never giving up on me. For
being my biggest support, and for joining me a year ago even before you fully
understood my mission. I’m beyond
blessed.”
“So am I,” said the young woman.
She opened the door and stepped inside.
“And as much as I’m totally gushing inside over your sweet words right
now, we’re going to see each other tomorrow, too. This isn’t goodbye! It’s just goodnight.”
“Of course, you’re right,” agreed Jonathan. His eyes locked on to hers. “OK, then, I’ll head home. Goodnight, Awana.”
She blew a kiss to him.
“Goodnight, Johnny boy.”
As he walked past POW on the way to his house, he suddenly heard
the flapping of wings nearby. A hawk
flew straight for his head, and he tried to dodge it with a curse. Oh no! he thought with
trepidation. Some of the professor’s
creatures managed to avoid being written out of existence! Why? Will this ever
end? But the animal stopped a few feet above him and, observing that he was
no longer walking, dropped a small scroll into his hands. He took a close look at the bird. Its eyes glowed with a strange swirl of white
and blue, standing out among the evening shadows. It was also larger than most of its kind,
nearly the size of a small eagle. With a loud caw! it flew away toward the
northeast. Jonathan watched it until it
was absorbed into the night sky, then turned his attention to the scroll.
“What do you think this is, girl?” he asked Ms. Unicorn, who was
rearing up courageously in his left hand.
“And who uses birds to deliver messages nowadays? That new email
innovation is amazing.”
Ms. Unicorn did not know much about email, but she seemed eager to
see what was on the scroll. Jonathan
rolled it open and began to read:
Dear
Jonathan,
My hawk, Crel, tells me that you have written Professor
Aponowatsomidichloron out of existence.
Furthermore, he tells me that you have sent the Halloween Friends back
to Armenor. When I received this news, I
was irate at first; but then I realized that you did what I could not. You did what was in the best interest of your
friends at the possible detriment to yourself, and that is the greatest act of
love there is (John 15:13). Your
displays of courage and compassion have inspired me beyond my ability to
express. And though I never could have
anticipated it, by removing my dearest friends from this world, you have again
unlocked my ability to write. Perhaps
other worlds could not open up to me until this one was safe; or perhaps I
clung too desperately to the past to be of any use to the future.
In a way, Jonathan, I grew up
with you. As you matured, so did I,
though maybe in a different way. It was
during this time that I slowly realized the important lesson I shared with you
earlier. I will tell you again, and
beseech you to never forget it, dear reader: good must win in the end. Evil may seem relentless and unassailable,
but it will never realize final victory.
The creature may devise all sorts of schemes, concoctions, and new ways
of rebelling against his creator. He may
despise the one who gave him life and curse the name of the one whose words
brought him into existence. But there
will always be a remnant whose faithfulness is preserved, and who overcome evil
with good. As we know, there is One who
will lead the chosen “good” to final victory.
There are many tales yet to
tell, but for now, I can say farewell to the Halloween Friends. And I can say farewell to you, Jonathan. Your story ends here, it would seem, but it
is not one that will soon be forgotten.
Your fight for the holidays is one that will echo through the years to
come. It will echo through those whom
you sent back to Armenor, and to all whose ears hear their tales. It will echo to your descendants. No, young man, you will not soon be
forgotten, for two reasons. The first is
that in this era of darkness, our hearts long for happy endings; and this is
what you have given us. The second is
that you, Jonathan, who seemed to be the least of all my characters, are many
things—but you are far from forgettable.
May God bless the pen that
trails the ink of your imagination,
Kory Labarga
Jonathan rolled up the scroll
and breathed a sigh of relief, feeling the full burden of his quest fall from
his shoulders. He nodded at Ms.
Unicorn. “Yeah, he can be a bit long-winded
at times, but there are worst writers out there.”
When he walked into his house,
his mother was sitting in her recliner with a newspaper in her hands (she was
reading it upside-down, I might add).
His father was baking, evidently disappointed that he had used most of
his muffins as ammunition rather than sustenance. The news was blaring on the TV, recounting
the day’s events and trying to make sense of all the confusion. Jonathan soaked in the warmth and serenity of
the room. His family, and many others,
were again able to celebrate the holidays without hindrance. One month from now, the smell of turkey would
permeate the house. Two months from now,
the Christmas tree would be standing in the corner and his small family would
exchange presents. He looked up with
thankful tears. Thank God for the holidays,
he thought, and for family.
His dad turned to him. “‘ey, Johnny boy! We were wondering when
you’d be home. How was your night?”
He lifted his bag for all to
see. “It was great! Look at how much
candy I got! But I’m so tired. I think
I’ll just eat it tomorrow.”
“Yeah,” agreed his mom, putting
down her newspaper, “saving the world is exhausting business. You did good, son.”
Jonathan’s lip trembled. “Thank you so much. It was a close call, but...we won. We did it.”
“Yes, we did,” said the woman. “But even heroes need to take their
pills. You know you can’t function
properly without them.”
Jonathan rolled his eyes at
her. “That’s my cue to leave. Well...Happy Halloween, Mom! Happy Halloween, Dad!”
“Happy Halloween, Johnny boy!”
He stepped into his room and
turned on the light. Fortunately—whether
by the power of his writing or the kindness of his parents, he did not know—the
room no longer looked as if it had been thrashed by an evil professor. The walls, immaculate, flashed with a billion
pink sparkles. The ponies that lined the
shelves seemed to watch as he and Ms. Unicorn made their victorious procession
across the carpet. He reached into his
pocket and produced the black notebook, white pencil, and putrid furball that
Cat had given him; these items, along with the scroll, he placed on top of his
dresser. Then he turned and made his way
to the left side of his bed, cradling Ms. Unicorn and letting her reflect the
sparkles of his walls. That was when he
heard a voice coming from his computer’s speakers:
“Ith
a thmall woold after all. Ith a thmall
woold after all. Ith a thmall world
after all! Ith a thmall, thmall
wooooooooooooooold!!!!!!!”
He
laughed to himself. Well, now I know
that Stanley’s OK.
Jonathan
Legcheese set Ms. Unicorn in her rightful place—the side table next to his
bed—and shut off his lights. He slid
onto his bed gracefully like a snake, as if he had no bones in his body. After a deep yawn, he lay there for a few
minutes with a sense of elation in his heart.
Finally, he closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep.
And
they all lived happily ever after.
THE
END
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