By Selena Kitt
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Review & Description
She doesn’t know how long she’s been with Belch, the strange man who grows giant pumpkins…she doesn’t even remember her own name…
But when a kind police officer comes to buy a pumpkin from their patch, Beth begins to remember.
Sheriff Will Walker’s instincts tell him that something is wrong, but he can’t quite put his finger on what.
Will he be able to figure out the mystery in time?
-------------
Note: This story originally appeared in the anthology Shivers.
-------------
“Two more days, pumpkin…”
They were stacking them close to the road and the hand-painted sign that read: “Punkins Here!” All these years and it was the same misspelled sign.
“We’ll have a full moon to work by, too.”
The childish anticipation on his face gave her hope. She might get a bath tonight.
“Cage!” His tone changed suddenly.
She clutched the collar around her throat and the jolt that went through her made her lose her footing on the old wagon they used to bring the pumpkins in from the patch. She stumbled, moving to catch herself, an exposed nail leaving a long gash in the tender flesh of her wrist.
The blood welled up on her arm, and she sat, still stunned, as the cruiser kicked up dust on the road heading toward them. There were no lights or sirens. It was probably just passing. The inclination to scream and wave her arms had been squashed out of her long ago and all she could think of was getting to the safety of her cage inside the house.
“Now!”
Another shock hit, and then another, his hand buried deep in his pocket while she scrambled to stand, the buzzing in her head and neck making her nearly blind with pain.
In her haste, clawing at the thick collar tucked under the high turtleneck she wore, her feet tangled in her long skirt and she went down again, sprawling on the lawn behind a line of pumpkins. Her body jerked as he continued to hit the button in a panic, more like a man waiting impatiently for an elevator than someone with what amounted to a trigger in their hand wielding 10,000 volts at a pop.
Still, she didn’t make a sound. The car was slowing and she heard the tires crunch to a the back row.
“Hide!” he hissed, giving her another small shock for good measure, and she scrabbled her way around the big wagon wheel to cower underneath in the shadows.
“Well, hullo there officer, what can I do you for?”
“Hey there.” The cop eyed the pumpkins on the lawn, glancing over at the heavyset man who was shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun off the cruiser. “Noticed you had some nice big ones this year.”
“Bigger the better,” the man laughed, slapping his distended, overall-covered belly with one hand. “That’s what my mama used to say.”
“Hi, I’m Will.” The officer extended his hand. “You are—?”
“Belcher.” The heavy man reluctantly slipped his hand from his pocket to shake the cop’s. “Call me Belch. Nice to meetcha.”
“They really do seem to get bigger every year.” Will nudged a pumpkin with his toe. “My son says he wants the biggest one I can find.”
She crouched lower and hunkered back, watching the officer tip his hat and scratch his head as he studied the selection of pumpkins on the lawn. His large hands were careful as he hefted one of the orange globes to inspect it.
“You want big? Come on out to the back, then!” Belch jerked his head toward the house. “I’m fixin’ to break the world’s record soon—biggest pumpkin ever.”
“Yeah?” Will smiled, leaning one of the pumpkins to the side to look at its bottom. The sun glinted off his badge as he stood and she noted his thick, heavy belt, the holster and radio visible, one on each side. “Guess everyone wants their fifteen minutes, right?”
“World’s largest was fifteen hundred and two pounds. Some guy in Rhode Island broke the record just this year.” Belch watched the cop walking up the front ro, sir.” Belch pointed to an enormous hollowed-out pumpkin on its side near the tree. “Can fit a coupla yow’ins in there at least. Kids who come, they like to get their pitcher taken."She doesn’t know how long she’s been with Belch, the strange man who grows giant pumpkins…she doesn’t even remember her own name…
But when a kind police officer comes to buy a pumpkin from their patch, Beth begins to remember.
Sheriff Will Walker’s instincts tell him that something is wrong, but he can’t quite put his finger on what.
Will he be able to figure out the mystery in time?
-------------
Note: This story originally appeared in the anthology Shivers.
-------------
“Two more days, pumpkin…”
They were stacking them close to the road and the hand-painted sign that read: “Punkins Here!” All these years and it was the same misspelled sign.
“We’ll have a full moon to work by, too.”
The childish anticipation on his face gave her hope. She might get a bath tonight.
“Cage!” His tone changed suddenly.
She clutched the collar around her throat and the jolt that went through her made her lose her footing on the old wagon they used to bring the pumpkins in from the patch. She stumbled, moving to catch herself, an exposed nail leaving a long gash in the tender flesh of her wrist.
The blood welled up on her arm, and she sat, still stunned, as the cruiser kicked up dust on the road heading toward them. There were no lights or sirens. It was probably just passing. The inclination to scream and wave her arms had been squashed out of her long ago and all she could think of was getting to the safety of her cage inside the house.
“Now!”
Another shock hit, and then another, his hand buried deep in his pocket while she scrambled to stand, the buzzing in her head and neck making her nearly blind with pain.
In her haste, clawing at the thick collar tucked under the high turtleneck she wore, her feet tangled in her long skirt and she went down again, sprawling on the lawn behind a line of pumpkins. Her body jerked as he continued to hit the button in a panic, more like a man waiting impatiently for an elevator than someone with what amounted to a trigger in their hand wielding 10,000 volts at a pop.
Still, she didn’t make a sound. The car was slowing and she heard the tires crunch to a the back row.
“Hide!” he hissed, giving her another small shock for good measure, and she scrabbled her way around the big wagon wheel to cower underneath in the shadows.
“Well, hullo there officer, what can I do you for?”
“Hey there.” The cop eyed the pumpkins on the lawn, glancing over at the heavyset man who was shielding his eyes from the glare of the sun off the cruiser. “Noticed you had some nice big ones this year.”
“Bigger the better,” the man laughed, slapping his distended, overall-covered belly with one hand. “That’s what my mama used to say.”
“Hi, I’m Will.” The officer extended his hand. “You are—?”
“Belcher.” The heavy man reluctantly slipped his hand from his pocket to shake the cop’s. “Call me Belch. Nice to meetcha.”
“They really do seem to get bigger every year.” Will nudged a pumpkin with his toe. “My son says he wants the biggest one I can find.”
She crouched lower and hunkered back, watching the officer tip his hat and scratch his head as he studied the selection of pumpkins on the lawn. His large hands were careful as he hefted one of the orange globes to inspect it.
“You want big? Come on out to the back, then!” Belch jerked his head toward the house. “I’m fixin’ to break the world’s record soon—biggest pumpkin ever.”
“Yeah?” Will smiled, leaning one of the pumpkins to the side to look at its bottom. The sun glinted off his badge as he stood and she noted his thick, heavy belt, the holster and radio visible, one on each side. “Guess everyone wants their fifteen minutes, right?”
“World’s largest was fifteen hundred and two pounds. Some guy in Rhode Island broke the record just this year.” Belch watched the cop walking up the front ro, sir.” Belch pointed to an enormous hollowed-out pumpkin on its side near the tree. “Can fit a coupla yow’ins in there at least. Kids who come, they like to get their pitcher taken." Read more
