A Halloween Tale

Who would guess a jack- o’- lantern carved to look like Edgar Allan Poe would become an internet sensation? The carver, Velveeta Cooksey of the little town of Rhodie (named after rhodendrons) in the Pacific Northwest, had captured Poe’s strange, off kilter, asymmetrical face in the media of pumpkin.

Most people didn’t know that Poe’s face was off-balance. Velveeta did, because when she was a teenager reading horror stories, she looked up Poe on the internet to see what he looked like. Her brother. who was snooping over her shoulder, asked Velveeta if she had heard about the famous Poe picture experiment. 

“No. What are you talking about?” she said.

“Cover the left half of his face with your hand on the computer screen,” he instructed.

Velveeta did so, being curious.

“What do you see?”

“I see half of a nice-looking man’s face,” she answered, wondering what her brother was up to.

“Now cover the other half of his face instead, and what do you see?”

Velveeta was stunned. “Oh my gosh! Poe looks absolutely evil. And grouchy too! How can that be?” She dropped her hand and examined the whole of Poe’s face, and saw that his left eyebrow drooped in an unfortunate, frowning manner, the exact opposite of his pleasantly arched right eyebrow.

“Isn’t that weird?” her brother grinned.

“YES!” She had to agree with him. And she grinned back, because she knew right then that she would carve Poe’s face in the annual Rhodie Pumpkin Carving Contest of 2022. She did, she won, and became an instant celebrity on social media because she had deftly carved Poe’s face so that his right half looked genteel, and his left had a grimacing, sinister look. When people read about the Poe picture experiment and tried it themselves, Velveeta’s 15 minutes of fame was assured.

In the autumn of 2023, the citizens of Rhodie speculated on what Velveeta would carve in the next annual pumpkin carving contest, to be held on Halloween morning.

Velveeta felt confident, “You have the hands of a neurosurgeon,” Velveeta’s best friend and others told her.

In early October, however, a rival pumpkin carver rolled into town. His name was Bumper Chute, hailing from Seattle. The townsfolk spotted him right off the bat–he was hard to miss, wearing a black cape that fluttered behind him as he rode in on his electric scooter. He parked in front of the town’s thrift shop and was spotted trying on odd clothes and muttering in front of a mirror.

When he modeled rhinestone studded leather suspenders holding up striped pajama bottoms, the store clerked laughed until he cried. Bumper himself chortled as he preened in the mirror, his eyes glowing. “Do suspenders make me look thin?” he joked with the clerk.

While Bumper shopped, Velveeta gazed through her kitchen window to the garden where she grew her pride and joy, a blemish-free bright orange pumpkin. Frilly yellow roses on a nearby trellis watched over the pumpkin like grannies guarding a baby boy. This baby would be perfect to carve at around 15 pounds.

Bumper, sans garden, made a deal with a farmer to buy the baddest pumpkin growing in the farmer’s field, but no larger than 20 pounds. Both Bumper and Velveeta worried about carving themes--what to come up with that was new and exciting?  

“I could carve Count Dracula circled by a border of bats,” thought Velveeta. But that seemed cliche. Perhaps a new version of Frankenstein? A werewolf? An ET? But weren’t they cliche too?

“Aha!” she suddenly chirped, inspired, “I’ll carve Sherlock Holmes!” On second thought her joy collapsed like an old air mattress, because Sherlock Holmes was not evil. Halloween demanded an evil pumpkin, or at least a mean one. Or a funny one. So Count Dracula might be her go to, after all.

The October days grew shorter and the two artisans hid out like agoraphobics, refining their themes and composing their costumes. Bumper grew a twirly mustache and dyed his hair coal black which made his skin look sickly. He could very well serve as Velveeta’s vision of Count Dracula.

“Do I dare ask him,” Velveeta giggled wickedly. “I would so love him to be my model.”

Halloween arrived and early that morning Velveeta and her brother cut her pumpkin loose from its 15-foot green tether. They hoisted it into a wheelbarrow, then began pushing it to the community park. Bumper appeared in town driving an old pickup truck with a large squash riding shotgun beside him–a whitish-green pumpkin that rivaled Velveeta’s in beauty. 

“Hiya,” he yelled to Velveeta as they passed on the street.

“Bon chance, B.S.,” she shouted back.  

Halloween day was sunny and cool, perfect for Rhodies who gathered in the park to watch the twelve contestants carve their pumpkins. Most eyes were focused on Velveeta and Bumper. They were stationed at opposite ends of the carving tables, which was a good thing because Velveeta wouldn’t be distracted by Bumper’s outfit: gaucho pants, poncho, black Stetson and orange sneakers. He’d shaved off his mustache and his hair hung in a long pony tail. His pale skin was now an attractive spray tan color.

Bumper likewise wouldn’t be staring at Velveeta in her clinging Las Vegas showgirl costume, which she quickly covered with a modest apron. A red blossom garland decorated her sun-streaked hair.

At 10 a.m. the contest began. The twelve contestants, ranging from grade schoolers to grandmas and grandpops, lopped the tops (or bottoms) off their pumpkins when the contest host yelled, “on your mark, get set, carve!” Hands dipped into pumpkins to scoop out slimy seeds and mush, which contestants threw onto the ground with a satisfying splat, or carefully spooned into containers to make pies.

Velveeta worked bare-handed, having no problem thrusting her fingers into the squishy, stringy innards of her pulpy pumpkin. Bumper however, muttered, “Eww,” even though he wore purple neoprene gloves to avoid pumpkin goo under his fingernails.

At twelve noon the contest ended. Velveeta and Bumper sighed in unison, though they couldn’t see each other. Velveeta collapsed into a folding chair and Bumper took his first swig of beer that day, muttering to himself as he viewed his pumpkin from all angles.

The folks who had come to watch the contest roamed along the carving tables, gasping, giggling and critiquing the pumpkins. Betting money appeared. Velveeta’s and Bumper’s pumpkins elicited remarks like, “Wow!” and “OMG!!!” and even more descriptive utterings that raised eyebrows. When the judges examined the pumpkins, the crowd grew even more animated and excited.

The most exciting thing of all, however, was this: Velveeta and Bumper had unknowingly each carved the exact same face into their pumpkins. Though not exactly alike, the jack-o’-lanterrns resembled an evil enemy, with a round, smirking, spiky face. It was the COVID 13 virus, in all its hideous glory.

Velveeta and Bumper hugged each other when they were named the Rhodie 2023 Pumpkin Carving Champions, shared between them. They posed for pictures grinning like jack-o’-lanterns themselves. When the ceremony ended, Velveeta and Bumper looked at each other and then hoisted their pumpkins into the air, yelling, CURSE YOU COVID 13, then they slammed the pumpkins onto the ground, smashing the gourds into a pulpy mess.

When the contest video of the pumpkin smashing appeared on the internet, it caused a massive pumpkin carving phenomena that same Halloween Day. Knives were wielded in Rhodie, in Washington state, in the other 49 states and beyond to the outermost reaches of the world, carving the same evil face that Velveeta and Bumper had carved: the grinning, repugnant face of the terrible virus known as Covid 13.

“CURSE YOU COVID,” the world yelled as the pumpkins were carved, then hit the ground. SMASH SMASH SMASH, CURSE YOU COVID, they chanted.

Yes, people the world over rushed to carve Covid 13 pumpkins. A chorus of SMASH SMASH SMASH, CURSE YOU COVID could be heard throughout the town and the world that day, as knives carved death into Covid 13 jack-o’-lanterns. Social media was bombarded with pumpkin smashing videos and reporters had a field day.

Televised the world over, SMASH SMASH SMASH became an instant hit, a wildly popular chant that rivaled “We Will Rock You”. The world, knives drawn, had united against Covid 13, and it worked–Covid 13 died suddenly at midnight October 31, 2023, official cause unknown. 

The people of earth triumphed, because they had united against evil, and Covid 13 (and all its brutal Covid family) were dispatched on Halloween 2023, FOREVER.