The Halloween Pumpkin Spell, page 4
I scratched my head. “I thought the same thing earlier, but surely spells don’t have preferences for different varieties of pumpkin.”
Silence descended over the room once more. “Well, what are you going to do?” I asked my husband and Ruprecht.
Their expressions remained blank.
I clamped my hand over my mouth. “Oh no! Camino asked me to make her more attractive! I thought she was joking, but what if…” My words caught in my throat.
Alder finished my sentence for me. “What if she stood in the middle of a working spell in order to become more attractive?”
I nodded. Ruprecht turned a ghastly shade of green.
“I thought one of you could fix it,” I wailed.
“We can’t fix something until we know what the actual problem is,” Ruprecht said. “It’s just as the famous philosopher, Wittgenstein, said, ‘Don’t get involved in partial problems, but always take flight to where there is a free view over the whole single great problem, even if this view is still not a clear one.’ Do you understand what I mean?”
“No, to be honest,” Alder said. I elbowed him hard in the ribs. He quickly amended that to, “Oh yes, of course. It’s just dawned on me. Yes, of course.”
“We have to think up something before Marina comes to fetch her pumpkin.” Ruprecht’s face turned from ghastly green to ghostly white.
I held up one hand, palm outwards. “That’s one thing we don’t have to worry about. Marina wants me to mind the pumpkin for her so it doesn’t get damaged and she’ll collect it in the morning just before the fair.”
“I’ll call Camino’s friends and ask if they’ve seen her,” Ruprecht said. “If she doesn’t turn up, it looks like she might indeed be this pumpkin. We must find a way to turn her back.”
“That’s exactly what I’ve been saying,” I said. “I’ve looked through all those spell books there.” I waved my hand at the table with a flourish. “Not one of them contained a spell that was of any help.”
“We’ll do a reversing spell,” Ruprecht said.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief. “So that will work?”
“Probably not,” Ruprecht admitted. “I assume Camino wandered into the circle just as your spell kicked in, and that turned her into a bigger and more attractive pumpkin.”
Hysteria rose within me and I did my best to push it down. “We just can’t stand around here talking,” I said. “Will she come back as normal? Will she be all right?”
I had never seen Ruprecht look so pale. “I’m sure she will,” he said with what I figured was false bravado. “Amelia, why don’t you and Alder go and have a good look through Camino’s house. I’ll stay here and keep an eye on the pumpkin and call her friends.”
Alder ushered me out of the house. “She’s not going to turn up,” I said to Alder as I was looking through Camino’s bedroom. “This is where she keeps all her onesies, and the giant pumpkin onesie isn’t here.”
“Yes it is,” Alder said excitedly. “Look! There are two of them!”
I shook my head. “They’re the earlier pumpkin onesie versions she made.” I tapped one of them. “This is the fluorescent one she wore last Halloween, and this is the one she wore the Halloween before that.”
Alder’s eyebrows knit in the middle. “How can you tell them apart?” He appeared stupefied.
“Trust me, I’ve lived next door to Camino for a few years now and I’ve become somewhat of an expert in onesies.” I pulled a face, thinking of all the dreadful onesies Camino had forced me to wear. “Alder, what are we going to do? Do you really think she can go back to her human form?”
“I’d like to say she could, but I’m really not sure,” Alder said.
“Do you think she can see and hear us while she’s a real pumpkin?” I asked him.
He shrugged. “No idea. I’ve never been turned into a pumpkin.”
I frowned at him. “It’s not funny, you know. How can we look after her, if that pumpkin is really her?”
Alder rubbed his chin. “I suppose we should keep her in a dark, dry place, and away from people who want to make pumpkin soup.”
I shot him my best glare, but I didn’t know whether or not he was joking.
Chapter 7
It had been a hard night. I’d woken up several times through the night and checked on pumpkin-Camino, but she hadn’t moved. I supposed it was to be expected, although I wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she had grown a pair of legs.
I awoke the following morning feeling groggy and horrible as one usually does after a sleepless night. Alder rolled over. “Amelia, you hardly slept at all last night.”
I exhaled long and hard. “Sorry for keeping you awake.”
“I wasn’t complaining. I felt sorry for you, being so worried about Camino. Don’t worry, I’m sure we’ll find a way to turn her back.”
“Do you really think so?”
The doubt on Alder’s face was unmistakable, but he said, “You and I are both powerful witches, so I’m sure if we put our minds to it, we’ll have her back to normal in no time. Have you told Marina yet?”
I shook my head. “I was hoping Camino would turn back to herself by morning so there’d be no need. I’d better get ready. Marina will be here soon.” I sat up, yawned, and stretched.
Alder kissed me long and hard before jumping out of bed. “You have a shower while I make breakfast. I’ll make a nice big pot of coffee. Don’t worry, I won’t make you a pumpkin spice latte.”
I threw my pillow at him, but he ducked and slipped out the door. I hardly thought it was an occasion for humour.
What if we were never able to turn Camino back to herself? What if she stayed as a pumpkin in a dark cupboard, slowly rotting away? I wrapped my arms around myself. Surely not! Like Alder said, the two of us were powerful witches, and then there was Ruprecht. I had every confidence in Ruprecht. If anyone could find a way around this, he could.
By the time I had a shower, Alder was already in the kitchen, explaining the situation to Marina. She wasn’t taking the news well.
“I can’t believe it,” she said over and over again. “Are you sure?”
“We’re not sure about anything,” I said, “but you can see why you can’t take Camino to the show.”
Marina pouted. “I am absolutely taking her to the show,” she said. “She’ll beat Farmer Bob Willis’s pumpkin for sure.”
“But what if she gets hurt?” I wailed.
“These are show pumpkins not eating pumpkins,” Marina said in a steely tone. “No harm will come to anyone’s show pumpkins, I can assure you.”
I looked at Alder. “Can you convince her?”
He shook his head. “I’ve known Marina for years and when she’s made up her mind, that’s the end of it.”
I didn’t like the sound of it, but there was nothing I could do. “How are we going to lift Camino?” I asked.
“I hired a Landcruiser when I landed at the airport,” Marina said, “and I have this platform trolley.”
I noticed the platform trolley for the first time. “Won’t that hurt her?”
Marina shot me a wary look. “Amelia, you don’t seem to understand anything about show pumpkins, or any show vegetable for that matter. They’re treated with kid gloves, seriously. No one is going to hurt one.”
“I don’t like it,” I said. “Do you really insist upon doing it?”
“I do.” Marina’s tone was resolute. “Besides, you were the one who did the spell so the pumpkin could go in the show. Perhaps the spell will be reversed as soon as the show is over.”
I hadn’t considered that possibility.
“I suppose it’s a possibility,” Alder said, echoing my thoughts. “It seems a remote possibility, but it’s a possibility, nonetheless. One of us will have to stay with the pumpkin at all times though, Marina.”
“Not while the pumpkins are being judged,” Marina said, “but it will be quite safe because no one is allowed in there. Only the judges.”
A horrible thought occurred to me. “They don’t taste the pumpkins, do they? Cut a chunk out of them?”
Marina clutched her throat. “Of course not, Amelia. It’s not a pumpkin pie contest. It’s just a competition for the biggest pumpkin and the best looking pumpkin. They are the only two categories my pumpkin is in.”
There was a knock on the door so I excused myself. It was Thyme, Ruprecht, and his granddaughter, Mint.
“Is Camino still a pumpkin?” they all said in unison.
I nodded and opened the door for them all to enter. “Marina’s in the kitchen with Alder and she insists on exhibiting Camino in the show,” I said as they popped their umbrellas in the corner.
With that, Ruprecht pushed past me. By the time I got to the kitchen, Marina and Ruprecht were in a heated argument. I had never really heard Ruprecht raise his voice before. Alder was acting as peacemaker. “Ruprecht, you won’t be able to change Marina’s mind, and I do agree that there’s a slim chance this spell might be reversed once its object is fulfilled,” Alder finally said.
Ruprecht crossed to the kitchen window and looked out at. “All right, but we will all have to go to the fair to keep a close eye on Camino.”
“Are you absolutely sure this pumpkin is Camino, Grandfather?” Mint said. “It seems far-fetched.”
“Amelia is a powerful Dark Witch,” Ruprecht declared. “There would not be many people who could do that spell, but Amelia is one of them.”
A wave of guilt washed over me. “I’m sorry,” I mumbled.
Alder put his arm around me and drew me to him. “It’s not your fault,” he said. “It was just bad timing on Camino’s part. Besides, it could be a strange coincidence and Camino might be somewhere else.”
Thyme finally spoke. “But where? She’s not at home, and none of her friends have heard from her. She’s vanished off the face of the earth.”
Ruprecht leant against the wall. “The fact remains that there is still a slim chance this pumpkin might not be Camino, but for now we will have to assume it is until more evidence comes to light.”
Everyone agreed with Ruprecht.
Ruprecht and Alder manoeuvred the pumpkin onto the trolley. Ruprecht insisted on wheeling her out to Marina’s Landcruiser.
I had been looking forward to the Halloween fair for weeks. It should have been a happy occasion. I would have enjoyed the Halloween fair if I hadn’t turned my friend into a giant yet attractive pumpkin.
Thyme and I had made a variety of Halloween cakes for the fair. I averted my eyes from the ones with pumpkin orange frosting and selected instead a box of chocolate cupcakes sporting white frosting with cobwebs carefully drawn on them. I had done all the frosting and was quite good at it, if I do so say so myself. It was just cakes that no one wanted me to bake. I hadn’t yet baked a successful one. Still, I hadn’t set a cake on fire for ages and the holes in the middle were becoming less cavernous. I was heading in the right direction. I allowed myself a small smile of self-congratulation.
I had drawn skull faces with white frosting on some of the chocolate cupcakes. I had also put green frosting on some cupcakes and into them inserted two orange, black, and white striped paper straws on top of which I had stuck witches’ boots I’d made carefully made from paper. I had topped others with purple frosting. I’d popped marshmallows on top of toothpicks so they looked like eyeballs and inserted them into the purple frosting.
I was saddened, as when I’d made the cupcakes, I’d had no warning that I would soon turn Camino into a pumpkin.
When we arrived at our stall at the fair, it was quite a procedure to keep the boxes dry on the way to our tent. “Amelia, I think Mint and I should stay with the stall,” Thyme said, “and you and Alder should keep an eye on Camino.”
“Are you sure the two of you can handle it?” I asked her.
Mint made a shooing motion with her hand. “Grandfather is completely beside himself. You need to stick with him at the very least, Amelia. He would be devastated if anything happened to Camino.”
“Camino will be alone while the judging is going on,” I told them.
“Stay outside the tent door then,” Thyme said. “It’s not as if anything’s going to happen to her while she’s being judged. She is a show pumpkin after all.”
I sighed. “You sound like Marina.”
Mint seized me by my shoulders and turned me around. “Off you go!”
As I was about to leave, Detective Chris Bowes and Dawson turned up.
“Expecting trouble?” I said with a laugh.
Chris shook his head. “We’re off duty. We’ve come to see if you need any help.”
“That’s lovely. Nice to see you. I have to run,” I said, and left. I found Ruprecht and Alder standing outside a large tent. Luckily, a spreading pine tree provided them some shelter from the rain. “Is that where the pumpkin judging is going on?” I asked them.
“Yes,” Alder said. “The pumpkins are judged in there. I don’t think the judges have started yet because someone just brought an entry.”
“Is Camino the biggest?” I asked him.
He looked shocked. “Is that a serious question?”
I shrugged. “It would be a bit sad if she didn’t win, after all this.” I clutched my head. Had I taken leave of my senses?
Ruprecht peeked in the tent door. “I think they’re about to start the judging because they’re making everyone leave.” As soon as he spoke, Marina stepped out of the tent and announced the judging was about to start.
“How long does this usually take?” I asked her.
“It could take them ages, maybe an hour or so,” she said. “It’s not just the pumpkins—they have the pumpkin pies in there as well.”
“We can’t stay around here all that time,” I said. “We need to go somewhere dry. What will we do?”
“I think we need more coffee,” Alder said. “Amelia and I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
Marina giggled. “You are newlyweds after all.”
I felt my ears burn. “I was worried about Camino,” I sputtered.
Alder hadn’t heard as he was already striding in the direction of the nearest coffee seller.
We all hurried after him. After I downed a large latte, everything seemed a little better. “I don’t want to stand outside that tent door for an hour,” I said.
“No one will be allowed in or out, so Camino will be quite safe in there,” Ruprecht said. “Amelia, do you need to check on your cupcake stall?”
I shook my head. “Thyme and Mint said they had it under control and I think they’re having a nice time with their boyfriends.”
“Let’s have a look at all the exhibits,” Marina suggested. “There’s a new scarecrow exhibit this year. We should take a look at it before the crowds arrive.”
“Good idea.” I knew the crowds didn’t usually arrive until a little later. There was currently no one in sight. I gasped when we walked inside the scarecrow exhibit tent. “Wow, this is much cleverer than I thought!” I said. Little cubicles had been set up, displaying beautifully crafted scarecrows in various scenes.
The first depicted an alleyway with a scarecrow man standing on the carton of beer with his head in the garbage tin. “I think he’s meant to be throwing up,” Marina said, “after a hard night on the town.”
Even Ruprecht chuckled. Marina wandered off while Alder and I looked at the next exhibit. “I suppose we’ll need to be fast because this will be shut for judging soon too,” Ruprecht said. “Oh, look Amelia. These ones would have been hard to make.”
I looked more closely. Several gingerbread men stood around smiling. They had been made out of hay. “It would’ve been awfully hard to press the hay tightly into those shapes,” I said, impressed.
The next exhibit was of a king and queen in royal surroundings. Rich red velvet drapes encircled a golden chair. I guessed the golden chair had been bought from a charity shop and painted with gold spray, but the King and the Queen themselves were impressive. The King had been made from soft drink cans and the Queen from bottle caps. “This so artistic.” Alder’s voice was filled with wonder.
As we headed to the next cubicle, a woman’s scream pierced the air.
We ran in the direction of the scream to see Marina clutching her stomach. She pointed to a figure of a scarecrow slumped against a hay bale.
At first I couldn’t see why she was worried. It simply appeared to be a lifelike scarecrow meant to resemble a farmer. A straw hat sat on his head. His jeans were faded. His red checked shirt was over a white T-shirt, and on his feet were RM Williams boots. He was a scarecrow meant to depict a stereotypical Australian farmer.
It wasn’t until Ruprecht gasped that it hit me. This was no scarecrow. It was a real-life man. Except for the fact that he was dead.
Chapter 8
Ruprecht had been going to call the police, but I said I’d call Thyme instead and get her to send Dawson and Detective Chris Bowes along.
As soon as I hung up, I said, “The poor man. He must’ve had a heart attack. Is he definitely dead?”
Ruprecht had been checking his pulse. “Dead as a doornail, I’m afraid to say,” he said.
Marina had been standing there in silence the whole time. Finally, she spoke. “It’s Farmer Bob Willis,” she said. “And that’s no doubt the pumpkin he was going to enter in the show.”
I hadn’t even noticed the pumpkin. I stared at it for some time. “That’s so strange.”
Ruprecht finally stepped away from the body. “What’s strange?”
“He’s dead and he couldn’t enter his pumpkin in the competition, and Camino has been turned into a pumpkin.”
“But the two can’t possibly be related,” Ruprecht protested.
I shook my head. “I have a strong feeling that they are. It doesn’t make sense when I try to explain it. It’s just a feeling, I suppose,” I concluded lamely.
Dawson and Chris hurried into the tent. “Did anyone touch the body?” Chris asked us.
“I checked for a pulse,” Ruprecht said.
Chris nodded. “Everyone, back over there.”
