The Problem With Pumpkins

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The Problem With Pumpkins Page 3

by Linda V. Palmer


  He took one look at me in my undies and pretty much exploded. “What the hell is going on?”

  I couldn’t answer for hugging him. My brothers simultaneously babbled their version of things. “Scary pumpkins! Spooky house! Awful witch! Blue eyes! Blood!”

  Dad peeled me off of him and caught my chin in his hand so I’d look up. “What?”

  “I’ll tell you everything on the way to the hospital, okay? I think she might’ve drugged Brendon. He won’t stop bleeding.”

  “Who?”

  I pointed to Brendon, now lying flat on his back. With a gasp, I rushed over. Out again? Or worse? Dad shouldered past me to reach down and take a pulse. He immediately put his ever-ready radio mic to his mouth. “We’ve got a 10-48 on Hecate.”

  I knew that meant call an ambulance.

  Dad strode back to his vehicle and dug a folded blanket from the back seat. He thrust it at me. “Mags, I need to know what happened, and I need to know now.”

  As I wrapped the blanket around me under the jacket, I gave him the short version, winding up just as another deputy braked with his blue lights flashing and his sirens on high. I don’t think Dad even heard him.

  “So Becca’s Great Aunt Simone is a witch who collects blue eyes?”

  “Exactly.” He got it!

  Or did he?

  Dad shook his head, clearly struggling to get his brain around my tale. He glanced at his deputies, both pretending they hadn’t just heard their boss’s half-naked daughter say a witch drugged and tied up her leather-clad boyfriend before stashing him in the basement.

  “That’s what happened,” said Caden, picking up on the doubt. “Cross my heart.”

  “Yeah.” Corey’s wide eyes punctuated the word. “That witch is so bad I almost peed my pants.”

  Dad sighed. “Harold, stay here with the kids. Jon, come with me.” He turned toward the house. I grabbed his arm.

  “Please be careful. This is for real.”

  His eyes narrowed slightly; he nodded and left us. By then another siren wailed. The ambulance slid to a halt shortly after. Medics piled out of it. In minutes they had an IV in one of Brendon’s arm and a pressure bandage on the other. The boys and I huddled together, watching. Brendon opened his eyes and saw us first thing. He motioned for me to step closer.

  “She can turn into a cat.”

  “Huh?”

  “Saw her do it.”

  I never doubted that for a second, so spun around and raced after my dad, with my blanket flapping around my ankles. He’d just entered the gate with his deputy at his side. I knew I wouldn’t catch up before he reached the porch, so called out to him. “Wait, Dad!” Pant. Pant. “Wait!”

  He stopped just inside the yard and looked back at me.

  I cupped my mouth with my hands so the sound would carry on the night. “Watch out for black cats.”

  With a nod and another bemused shake of his head, Sheriff Dad headed up the sidewalk. I kept on running, stopping only when I got to the gate. Not for anything would I step into that yard, but I did want to know what happened.

  My dad knocked on the door and waited, then knocked again. Just as he stepped back to kick it in—probable cause!—the door swung open. He and Jon exchanged a startled glance and drew their guns. They entered the house.

  Suddenly a bunch of bats erupted from the chimney, squeaking, fluttering, and clearly silhouetted against that enormous leering moon. As second later, a black cat shot out the front door and down the sidewalk. I never hesitated as I sprang into motion and tried to cut it off. I couldn’t let Simone get away. Not after what she’d done to Brendon.

  The cat quickly outdistanced me. Just as it reached the fence, it began to chase its tail, a tiny black whirlwind that rose upward and became shapely Simone.

  She smiled sweetly, blew me a kiss, and vanished.

  My world went from dark to darkest.

  The next thing I knew, a medic pried my eye open and shone the beam of a tiny flashlight right into it. “She’s coming around, Sheriff.”

  Dad bent over me, his cell phone to his ear, to double checked the medic. “She’s okay, Becca, but her boyfriend’s in pretty bad shape.” Pause. “How would I know? Wait. It’s Brendon somebody. You’ll meet him in a minute.”

  I realized lay on a blanket near the ambulance, with my brothers on their knees beside me.

  I mustered a smile. “Hey, guys. You two okay?”

  Since they both had their mouths stuffed with candy, I got nods for answers. I looked around for Brendon, then realized they’d probably already loaded him in the ambulance.

  “Dad?”

  He snapped his phone shut. “Yeah, baby.”

  “Did you see…?” I paused, suddenly not sure I’d seen it.

  “A cat turn into Simone?”

  “Yeah! So you believe us now?”

  “I always believed you. It’s my job to stay neutral until I check out the facts.” He reached out to help me up.

  My knees wobbled when I stood. “Is Brendon going to be okay?”

  “He is. I need to call his folks. Do you know them?”

  I explained how we’d met. Dad barked an order to Jon, then gave the ambulance driver the go-ahead to leave.

  Thirty minutes later, my brothers and I sat in the ER waiting room. I now wore borrowed scrubs, but still had on my heels. My bouffant hair, which might’ve had a leaf or two stuck in it, earned us some curious stares, as did the blood all over Corey and me. But the Jack Sparrow get-ups got the most attention.

  Finally, my mom beckoned to us from the Authorized Personnel Only area. We three shot out of our chairs and ran to her. She led us to one of the alcoves, where Brendon lay on pristine white sheets with his parents and a brother sitting next to him.

  “Hey,” he said, grinning at me.

  “Hey.” He looked so much better that I started to cry and then couldn’t stop. My mom hugged me; Brendon’s mom hugged me; Brendon’s dad hugged me.

  As for Brendon…well, he crooked his finger.

  Swapping spots with his mom, I wedged myself into the tiny area between his bed and the partition. “What?”

  “Why did you come back for me?”

  I pretended to think about it. “Because you’d just sacrificed yourself to save us? No. Not that. Because I didn’t want Simone to cut out your big blue eyes? Hm. Not that, either. Because we’d never have a second date if she locked you in her armoire? Yep. That would be it.”

  Everyone laughed, including us.

  I started to move so Brendon’s mom could have her spot back, but before I could, he grabbed my shirt and pulled me closer. Slipping his hand behind my neck, he tugged me down to his level and gave me the biggest best kiss of my life. And right on the lips, too.

  My brothers and his hooted.

  Our parents slipped out of the alcove to give us a moment, dragging all those brothers with them. Mom even drew the curtain shut behind her.

  Yeah, she was pretty cool.

  I lowered the side rail and sat on the edge of Brendon’s bed. We kissed a couple more times.

  “Is the Pumpkin Patch closed for business?”

  “No. We’ll be open ‘til the end of November.”

  “Crap!”

  “What? You don’t like them now?”

  “Love ‘em, but the problem with pumpkins is that you have to deliver them, and we both know where that can land you.”

  “In love with the most beautiful girl in Johnsonville?”

  “You mean that girl who loves you back?”

  He nodded.

  “Right answer!”

  Dad and his deputies found all the evidence they needed to convict Simone of many bad things. Unfortunately, they never found Simone. As for the house…taking her sudden, um, disappearance as indication she no longer wanted to live there, the family promptly remodeled and turned the place into a Bed and Breakfast.

  I sincerely hoped no one with blue eyes ever booked a room.

  The End

/>   About the Author

  Linda Varner Palmer is an award-winning author with more than thirty books to her credit ranging in genre from paranormal YA romance to Silhouette category romance. She had contributed to three anthologies and has also written short stories, novel bytes, and novellas. Linda is a member of the Paranormal Romance Guild and the Electronic Publishing Internet Coalition (EPIC). In 2011, she won EPIC’s ebook award in the Young Adult category.

  Uncial Press brings you extraordinary fiction, non-fiction and poetry. Put a world of reading in your pocket.

  www.uncialpress.com

 

 

 


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