Halloween was one of Greg’s favorite days of the year. Cheryl goes out trick-or-treating with the kid, the temperature is always perfect for relaxing in a fleece, and he’s free to just sit on his porch with a beer, trading candy for an appreciation of costumery. This was a perfectly average Halloween, but that’s how Greg liked it. He was used to the yearly Ninja Turtle costumes, the yearly shrieks of his neighbor’s decorations, the yearly loud music from the party down the street, and the yearly pounding of footsteps on his roof.
“Wait a minute,” said Greg. “No one has ever been on our roof before.”  Greg stood up and power walked out onto his lawn, and turned to face his roof. Through the darkness he could vaguely make out the shape of what appeared to be a giant pumpkin. As a self-proclaimed man of reason, Greg could only assume that this was some teenager’s idea of a joke.
“Hey, You!  Get off my roof!”  Instinctively, Greg chugged the rest of his beer and threw the can upwards at the vandal. The pumpkin shape began to roll down the roof into the light, and Greg could now see the shapes of legs sticking out of the bottom. Now it was time for Greg to watch the teenager roll off the roof, be shaken but have his fall padded by the costume, and then he wouldn’t come bother Greg anymore.
Splat!
Or it could be an actual pumpkin that now lay all over Greg and his lawn. That was okay too, it’s not like killing squash is a crime.
“Daddy, Daddy!”  Greg spun and embraced Charlie. “What’s will all the pumpkin, Daddy?”
“There was a pumpkin on our roof, and it fell off.”  Charlie ran off into the pumpkin while Greg addressed Cheryl. “How was it?”
“It was nice. Charile get out of the pumpkin you’re going to ruin your costume.”  Charlie returned from ground zero carrying a small business card.
“Daddy, read this to me!”  Greg sat down and sounded out every word with Charlie on the card.
“Whoever shall wear the suit of the great pumpkin shall become the great pumpkin.”
“Daddy, you mean you killed the great pumpkin?”
Greg’s face shot into an awkward half smile, then he laughed.
“I guess I did. I didn’t mean to.”
“But daddy!  If the great pumpkin is dead then kids won’t get toys. All kids should get toys!”
“Charlie, he’s gone, I can’t magically bring him back.”
“But the card. You can become the pumpkin.”
Greg examined the card. He looked at Cheryl, who was examining him with one eyebrow cocked up. He looked at the remains of the pumpkin lying in his yard, then back at Charlie and his puppy dog eyes staring up at him. He began to walk towards the pumpkin. After all, what could happen?


[hr]


    Twenty years later, Charlie lay in bed with his arms wrapped around a beautiful redhead.
    “Is your dad coming to the wedding tomorrow?”  she asked.
Charlie sighed, then told her, “Yes.”
“He’s really a pumpkin?”
 “Yes.”
“If our kid is ever as stupid as you were, I’m baking at least one of you into a pie.”