Paige was sure the Calhoun house was empty as she crouch-ran to the patch of glowing jack-o-lanterns. It was a cliché to smash pumpkins on Mischief Night, but somebody had to do it. And besides, Mrs. Calhoun was always so smarmy about her prized gords.
Raising the first of the pumpkins up, a breeze rustled the branches and leaves and carried a waft of pumpkin spice. Then, a coil of something slithered along Paige’s leg. Screaming so loud she must have broken her cover, Paige dropped the pumpkin. By the time she got a chance to look down, similar soft coils wrapped around her arms. They were green, like vines, but soft somehow, even as they began to pull Paige into a sitting position.
Her shirt swelled, its black threads becoming orange, stuffed with padding. A smile spread across her shirt, glowing and flickering with an eerie inner candlelight. And when the change had completed, Paige sat just a head taller than the surrounding jacks with their lanterns, forced to look out at the street from the perspective of lawn décor.
“What the hell!?” She shouted, as light from a bedroom window across the street flicked on.
A laughing voice on the wind came in response. “Isn’t Ms. Calhoun’s newest prized pumpkin simply marvelous?”
Paige looked up and blinked. That weird gothy woman who moved to town a few months ago rode on an actual broomstick, her legs swinging in delight as she, in turn, looked down at Paige.
“You…turned…I’m a…! This isn’t fair!”
“Don’t I know you?” The witch asked curiously, but snapped her fingers when she remembered. “Ah, right. You’re the barista at The Old Brew. You made wonderful cappuccinos. Too bad you’re just a pumpkin now.”
A knot of despair twisted in Paige’s mind, seizing her breath. “Just a pumpkin? For how long?”
The witch shrugged. “It depends on how much mischief you’ve caused these many years.”
“I was just smashing pumpkins!”
“Prized pumpkins, and jack-o-lanterns people spent a good deal of time on. You’ll have no sympathy from me, pumpkin.” Just then, her eyes lit up and a smile spread. “I’ve had a simply marvelous idea. I could have you serve your sentence in one big chunk, or perhaps, could spread it over many years, a few days each year. That way you can bring joy and delight to all who might see you for a long time to come.”
Paige shook her head. The first option was clearly better to her. If she was to be a jack-o-lantern, better to get it done all at once. “The first thing!”
The witch laughed, “Oh, you’re just a pumpkin, pumpkin. The choice isn’t yours. I’ll convene with your Owner in the morning, and she’ll decide. In the meantime, ta. I’ve more mischief to manage.”
With that, the witch was away. And Paige remained on the cool and grassy ground, frowning while her pumpkin costume, as always, grinned.