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"The band needs
trombones," said Steve, the Class President.
"The band needs talent," said me. I sat in back.
He ignored me. "The Lions needs jerseys. And the Chess Club needs
boards. So Student Council has decided to hold a Halloween Carnival, to
raise funds. They've asked us to organize the pumpkin carving contest."
"Goody-goody," I said.
"I've divided you into committees based on your skills." He
gave Publicity to the arty kids. Rich kids got Prizes. Sports got Clean-up.
"Did I forget anyone?"
My arm shot up.
"You don't have any skills," he said. "Except being rude."
*
The old lady
led me to her back yard. Pie plates clanging on stakes. To scare crows.
"If you donate a pumpkin," I said, "our Baking Committee
will be happy
to make it into a delicious pumpkin pie for you to eat after the carnival."
She signed the sign-up sheet. I cut one off the vine, put it in my wheelbarrow.
The lady at the next house gave me two. She had lots. Her scarecrow was
a suit stuffed with straw.
My load got tippy. I started out toward the school. Then turned. Tore
off my name tag. Tossed the sign-up sheet. Dumped my haul behind my outhouse.
Some were heirlooms. My scarecrow was a post with strings nailed to it.
Tied to the strings were crows. They were barely flapping. Too tired to
caw.
"Caw!" I said.
*
I carved
triangle eyes. Triangle nose. Mouth like cogwheels coming together.
Not a bit scary. I tossed it. When it hit the ground the face caved in.
Now it looked scary.
The contest was: The scariest jack-o'-lantern wins. I tried everything.
On my practice pile I had pumpkins with one eye. Three eyes. Fangs. Squirrels
like smoke inside.
I pulled up a fresh one. Gutted it. Gave it little round eyes. Like Steve's.
I traced his nose with the tip of the knife. Slashed out two big nostrils.
Like Steve's. I carved a round mouth. Stuck a finger in to smooth it.
Then unzipped my fly.
It was a little tight. I knifed it again. The knife stuck. When I forced
it it warped. My hand slick with seeds. Slipped. My pinky split open.
Skin peeled back over flesh and bone.
I might've passed out.
*
Trees
the colours of vegetables. I walked to the Hospital. It was three miles.
By the crow. My hand held up over my head. As if I had a question.
"You get a lot of this this time of year?" I said. "Pumpkin
accidents?"
"Actually, you're the first. Ever." The doctor swabbed it, then
stitched me up with black thread.
I didn't feel a thing.
"You might have severed a nerve. Maybe a tendon." He mixed plaster
of Paris and put a cast on me. Elbow to wrist. When it dried he stapled
a rubber band to it.
"You've got to exercise the tendon while it's fusing. Or else it'll
get brittle." He picked up the other end of the rubber band. Stapled
it to my pinky nail.
My hand curled
into a claw.
I picked up a scalpel. It fell out of my hand.
"That can be your costume," he said. "The Claw!"
*
During
the carving contest Steve grabbed my cast. "Too bad," he said.
"Can I sign it?"
He signed it: Derek's a jerk.
"Next," the Principal said. "The costume contest!"
The carnival was in the gym. Kids piled on a stage. A bum with a silk
flower. A ghost in a monogrammed sheet.
Next up--Talent Contest.
A guy from the Drama Club recited Shakespeare. A linebacker lifted
weights. Four girls went up. Their dresses were tissue. They waved
flashlights. "Shine little glow worms," they sang. "Glimmer.
Glimmer."
"I am about to demonstrate the limits of Human Endurance," said
the
next guy. He cleared his throat. "My name is Yon Yonson, I come from
Wisconsin, I work in the lumber mills there. As I walk down the street,
all ask, 'What's your name?' And I tells them 'My name is Yon Yonson,
I come from Wisconsin....'"
The crowd booed. I jumped on stage. Grabbed the mike. My rubber band was
red. I plucked it. I raised my pinky and the rubber tensed. I
plucked it again. Sang: "What a beautiful thought I am thinking,
concerning that Great Speckled Bird..."
THE END
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