A Pumpkin Named Jack
2007 Copyright © Beth Cooper

“Oh, no! Not again!” The farmer grabbed his hat and hitched up his overalls as he ran toward the pumpkin patch. The screen door slammed behind him. “Sooey! Get out of there pig!”

The fat sow looked up lazily and went back to rooting for tender, young shoots. The farmer’s hard work was ruined. The carefully plowed rows were gone. The hand-formed hills were scattered.

The farmer grabbed the sow by the ear and dragged her back to the pigpen. He glanced over his shoulder at the mess. Young vines lay twisted and uprooted. Still, some had survived. There might still be a crop.

The rain fell softly. The sun shone warm and bright.

From Spring into Summer, the vines slowly crept across the patch. They grew wide green leaves and used their tendrils to grab onto anything that would help them spread out even further. Pretty yellow flowers bloomed, and from them came the little green pumpkins.

In one corner of the patch near the fence, sat five little pumpkins. Four of them were in a hurry to grow and ripen for the Fall harvest. They all knew what they were good for.

Big Max was larger than the others. He boasted, “I’m going to be the biggest pumpkin in the patch. I will win the blue ribbon at the County Fair.” He was sure of it.

Sugar was pretty and round. “I’m going to be plump and sweet. I’ll make the finest pumpkin pie at the feast,” she said in her sugary Southern drawl. She was sure of it.

Munchkin was the smallest, but he didn’t mind. He said in his tiny voice, “I’m not going to grow much at all. I want to be just the right size to fit a child’s hands.” He was sure of it.

Lumina was a shy pumpkin. Her skin was already a lovely pale green. “I’m going to turn ghostly white. I’ll be the center of the cornucopia, to help celebrate the season,” she whispered. She was sure of it.

But the fifth little pumpkin named Jack wasn’t sure at all. His vine had been in such a hurry to spread out, that it had wrapped itself around the fence post. He was pressed tightly against it. His side was already flat. He wasn’t big or sweet, small or pale. The others laughed at him because he didn’t know what he was good for. But he tried not to think about it. There was still a lot of growing to do.

The rain fell softly. The sun shone warm and bright.

Summer turned into Fall. The days got shorter. The leaves on the trees turned scarlet and yellow. The pumpkins ripened. Their skins blushed a beautiful orange, except for Lumina.

Sure enough, Big Max was the biggest. The farmer came out every day to measure him. He smiled and talked to the pumpkin. “We’re going to win the blue ribbon!” The day of the

County Fair, the farmer brought a wheelbarrow, and put Max in it, for he was far too big to carry. They happily went to town.

Sure enough, Sugar grew even more round and sweet. The farmer’s wife found her and said, “You’ll make a tasty pie for our feast.” She put Sugar in her basket and took her to the farmhouse.

Sure enough, Munchkin stayed small and cute. When the farmer’s grandson came to the patch, he saw the tiny pumpkin and hooted with joy. He was just the right size to fit in the boy’s hands, so he took him home.

Sure enough, Lumina turned a ghostly white. The farmer’s daughter came to the patch looking for something special for her cornucopia. “You are so lovely,” she said. “You’re just the pumpkin I need to celebrate the season.” She picked Lumina and took her away.

Jack was left alone. His flat side had made him tilt slightly. And worst of all, as he grew, large bumps and deep grooves had formed on his smooth orange skin. He waited and waited for someone to come for him so he would finally know what he was good for.

The farmer opened the pumpkin patch to the public to sell the rest of the crop. Families came looking for their perfect pumpkin. One by one, they took the pumpkins home. Big ones. Small ones. Tall ones. Short ones. Thin ones. Fat ones. But no one picked Jack.

Halloween morning dawned blustery cold. Most people stayed home. But one family did come to the patch.

“Let’s find the most unique pumpkin in the patch,” said the mother.

“One with large bumps and deep grooves,” said the father.

“And a slight tilt to the side,” said the little girl.

They searched and searched until they came to the corner of the patch, near the fence. There they found Jack. His skin was bumpy with deep grooves. He tilted slightly to the side. They took him home.

The mother set Jack on some newspapers on the table. She washed the dirt off of his skin. The father and daughter drew funny faces and chose one to be Jack’s new face.

The family cut a circle out of Jack’s top. They scooped out the seeds with a spoon.

The little girl giggled as her father carved a face that fit with all Jack’s bumps and grooves and tilt.

The family stepped back to admire him.

That night the mother put a lit candle in Jack and put him on the front porch.

Jack’s body glowed softly. His eyes shone warm and bright.

“Now I know what I’m good for!” Jack shouted through his new toothy grin. “I’m Jack! Jack O’Lantern!” He was sure of it.

And they all agreed he was the best Jack O’Lantern in town!