by James Dicken

Created on: October 13, 2009

Being sneaky was never one of Gloria's strong points, but she was doing her very best now. Creeping through the pumpkin vines in the field behind Old Mr. Potter's place, she was doing her best to not make a sound. With a full moon to light her way, she was able to make out the vague shapes of the pumpkins on either side of her. She could hear the almost silent shuffling of the pumpkins when they shied away from her as she passed them by, each one breathing a sigh of relief as they realized they were not the one being hunted tonight. This was the night they had all come to fear year after year: The night of the Great Pumpkin Hunt.

The rules were simple. The child who brought back the largest pumpkin, properly gutted and carved with an acceptable and readily identifiable face, would win the match. Each child was given 15 minutes in which to track, capture, gut, and carve their pumpkin and present it to the judges for approval and grading. Mark Tarkly and Jenny O'Grady had already brought back what they considered to be the hands-down winners. And they were beautiful! They were so close in size that it would come down to the weighing at the end of the match to decide the winner for sure. Each had successfully hunted a large, two and a half foot diameter pumpkin, left not a single seed inside, and had carved a not-too-shabby, nearly toothless face. Gloria knew she had her work cut out for her. She was the last contestant, and none of the other children had brought back anything that could challenge Mark's and Jenny's conquests.

Gloria checked her grip on her knife as she slowly moved toward her prize: the large, perfect pumpkin just ahead. She marveled at the soft sheen of the pumpkin skin in the moonlight, the flawlessness of its curves, the healthy three foot wide diameter. It's at least three feet wide! She thought excitedly. She could hardly contain herself as she imagined her knife sinking handle-deep into its orange face. Beads of sweat slid down her cheeks in anticipation, her breathing becoming more hastened, her heart pounding so loudly in her own ears she wondered how she wasn't scaring the thing she was hunting. At the very moment when she was about to make the fateful lunge toward her target, she felt and heard the snap of the twig under her foot. And so did the pumpkin.

The startled pumpkin bolted away from her even as she made a grab for it, her fingers just brushing the skin. Gloria cursed under her breath as she sprinted in the direction the

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