My mother dressed me, in overalls and a ruffed blouse. She tied the red hood around my neck and gave me a basket with an apple in it. Then I faced the dark. But as my eyes adjected it wasn't so dark, many porch lights were on to guide my way. I was little red riding hood for a night, not to seek out a grandmother, but a world full of candy. My poorly carved pumpkin adorded our porch. My dad would go with me as i set out and my mother stayed behind to pass out candy to others.
Last year I set out to carve my pumpkin. No poorly shaped face, but a dragon. I knew it would take hours, but i gutted it and started to call. When I got the call, come home. I went, but was too late. Cold on the floor was my mother, her feet covered in our baby blanket like she was cold. Somethings you long to remember but can't. The pumpkin rotted on the table.
Please come with me to pick a pumpkin? Busy, busy, busy. I went alone. I didn't go to where we traditionally got pumpkins. I didn't want to face it alone. A church was selling pumpkins, I went there. Nobody was there, not even a cashier. I left the money on the table, and took the three gourd pumpkins and a big one. I drove to where mom lays and gave her the three little pumpkins. Now the big pumpkin waits for all hollow's eve to be carved. But can I carve it?
shybear