| Once Upon A Pumpkin..... When people, Friends, etc., ask me why I don't write fiction, I always laugh and tell them that real life is funny enough. And the ways that real stories come through are at least as interesting as the stories themselves. My favorite "Cheshire Cat" story has got to be about the poor, stray dog who slipped into the cemetery on the night before All Saint's Day.... .......Boo!...... .....we stayed later at the cemetery that evening, me, Chrissy, and Red, because there was a big Goth convention going on in town and we wanted to make sure that there was sufficient security over the place so that the next morning would be nice for the families. After Red left, I finished up photos and started to head back to HQ. As fun as Halloween is, we certainly didn't want the "Silly Ones" coming in in the middle of the night and doing any "silly things", ie., any kinds of goofs which might be associated with a cemetery and Halloween on the same night. The next morning was All Saint's Day, and we were determined to make sure that everything went smooth for the families coming in, sometimes after many years, to enjoy the old traditions; visiting family on the old holidays. The whole family, literally; sometimes three or four generations at one time, coming to visit the rest of the family, and the stories and the tales are very special. This is the best way to keep our heritage alive.... ....so, a few days before our holiday, a family came out to place some flowers and decorations on their tomb. The tiny children had not even had a chance to meet their g'grandfather; I had known him for several years because he had made it a point to come out with the family for most of our holidays. He had passed away in his early eighties about six months earlier, and had always been the great patriarch.......the one who was overjoyed to take the kids out trick or treating. Sometimes the decorations they would bring were traditional, sometimes personal and sentimental. In this case they had brought a small trick or treat pumpkin bucket, you know, the ones you buy for the little kids. It was full of candy (I was told I could have as much as I wanted.......) and it was wonderful meeting some of the others in the family. So I went home, came back the next morning, and while I was walking through a dog came out from between the tombs, but with that pumpkin bucket stuck squarely on it's head, tail wagging. All I could do was start laughing. Obviously he had slipped through or under the gate at sometime during the night, hungry and cold, and I'm sure the candy was very welcome. But it was indeed a very happy dog yipping and bouncing around with glee as I pulled the bucket off of his head. We called him "Thunder"(my pop actually came up with the name), the sweetest, ugliest, and loudest dog I had ever seen. As had happened in the past we made an attempt to find his owner, then a home for him. At this point it would be easy to end the story on a happy note, as just remembering this years later still gives me the giggles. But it goes on. A few weeks later one of the Friends, a student living around the corner from the cemetery who would help out with hoses and such, had stopped by to chat. I had just finished a lecture, so I took this time to fill him in on what been going on in the last few weeks. Before any mention of Thunder came up, he told me that he had passed by the cemetery late on Halloween, and, as any one of the Friends would do, checked on the cemetery from the gate. What he noticed was startling, or curious to say the least. As there is no light other than moon and starlight in the cemetery at night, it is difficult to make out details on dark nights. But something was moving around in there, something small and low to the ground, moving erratically and energetically. I asked him why he didn't investigate and he hesitated in answering which gave me a good opportunity to tease him about being afraid of ghosts, although I knew better; I, as standard procedure, don't reccommend anyone without law enforcement experience investigating such incidents. It had been a windy night anyway, so it wasn't a big deal, although I wouldn't have minded him giving me a shout. Then I told him about Thunder and it all began to fit together. I reckon he wandered in not long after I had left if he wasn't already there, and got his head stuck sometime before midnight. It is a very funny story, although it is sad that Thunder apparently spent all night long with that pumpkin stuck on his head. But if you ever hear a story about the cemetery being haunted by the Great Pumpkin, there you have it. copyright 2001 Sean M. Perry |
