Pumpkin Patch Tales

PUMPKIN PATCH TALES

Jacob M. Drake

Copyright 2012 Jacob M. Drake

eternal.naturist2@gmail.com

Published on Smashwords

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Published by Crescent Suns eBooks on Smashwords

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.

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CONTENTS

Prologue

The Pumpkin Patch

Demon Hunter

Jack-O-Lantern

Growing Gourds

Hungry Pumpkin

Retribution

Ghosts Within

Jack Skull

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Prologue

Got everything ya need? Sam Newberry checked the invoice in his hand and walked one more time around the pickup truck that had the slats added onto the bed in back. The bed was filled to almost overflowing with pumpkins of various sizes and shapes. Newberry handed the invoice over to Rodney Bennington, the owner of the truck as well as the third-generation owner of the string of Corner Marts that dotted the landscape all across the several counties of this state where he had been born and raised.

Yup. Got it all, Bennington nodded, taking the invoice and after folding it in halves and then once again, stuffed it into the pocket of his red flannel shirt. Give me a hand with this tarp? Bennington asked and together with Newberry the two men managed to get the plastic green tarp spread out over the mound of gourds and tied down so that none of this precious cargo would tumble out on the road and perhaps cause someone driving behind the truck to swerve and get into a collision. Bennington supplied all his stores with pumpkins this time of year so that everyone from the surrounding communities could stop in while they were getting gas and pick up whatever they needed for their carving of jack-o-lanterns for Halloween.

I have to admit you got the best damn pumpkins I ever did see, Bennington grinned at Newberry, who had followed this long-time friend to the drivers' side of his truck. Bennington opened the door and stood looking back at the older man who looked like he had been born back when Bennington's grandfather had opened up the first few of the marts that now supplied the present-day owner with his lucrative income. Bennington knew of course that it was impossible for Old Man Newberry, as everyone around called him, to be that old. It would place him in his hundreds, far older than any man could possibly live to be. Obviously his was a family-run business and the present Mr. Newberry simply took over the reins of running the pumpkin patch after his father and grandfather had grown too old to do so. What do you use for fertilizer, anyway?

Nothing, Newberry shrugged his shoulders. I just go through and check on 'em when the season starts up - make sure they're all growing fine and leave 'em to their own natural state.

These pumpkins grow on their own? Bennington looked wide-eyed at the older man. That's amazing, he said and pulled himself into the cab of his truck. Newberry shut the door behind him and Bennington leaned out the window on his elbow.

The best thing about your pumpkins is they always sell out. Every year. I never have a single one left over after Thanksgiving. Well, see ya 'round, Bennington said and turned his key in the ignition. He pulled the truck forward slowly so the cargo in the back wouldn't get a jolt from starting off too soon and cause anything to shift enough that it might still tumble out the back.

Old Man Newberry stood watching until the truck loaded with the product that kept him financially flush this time of year was well down the road, then turned and headed back to his pumpkin patch where many other customers were busy buying the pumpkins they personally had selected for their children to carve. He smiled oddly to himself and chuckled a couple of times as he walked, thinking about how his gourds really got their nourishment for growing so well.

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The Pumpkin Patch

C'mon, guys, keep quiet. We're almost there. Jeremy Dunnan was with two of the other kids he went to school with. The three of them were sneaking into Newberry's Pumpkin Patch late at night in order to steal a few gourds. It was almost Halloween, but these teenagers weren't interested in getting the large orange gourds for the purpose of carving jack-o-lanterns out of them. All they wanted the vegetables for was so they could pound the hell out of Mrs. Stout's car and make it so she couldn't drive to work in the morning. Mrs. Stout was the teacher of the psychology class at their school and had been a serious pain in the ass to many of her students during their senior year. They had thought taking a psychology course would be an easy credit, but Stout seemed to enjoy making the class hard on purpose and these students wanted to let her know just how much they appreciated her efforts on their behalf.

Steve, Amber, Jeremy hissed through the tangling vines they'd bulled their way through in order to even get to the section of the patch where the pumpkins were the biggest. Where the hell are you? He strained his eyes through the gloom, but neither Steve Mosley nor Amber Burroughs were anywhere to be seen in the gloom of the late October darkness.

BOO! The single word came loud and unexpectedly from behind Jeremy and his reaction was to lurch involuntarily forward, causing him to fall face first in amongst the vines that grew up and around these gourds.

Damn it, Steve! Jeremy yelled, but then quieted his voice immediately as he recalled where they were and for what purpose. Do you want us to get caught?

Steve Mosley laughed loudly watching his buddy extract himself form the vines. He was just lucky they were pumpkin vines and not blackberry vines or he'd be in a lot more hurt than he was. Knock it off, Germy, Steve said, using the nickname for this school mate everyone had been using since third grade when they'd learned about germs in Science class. There's no one else anywhere around this shit hole. I bet we could've walked right in through the front gate and no one would have noticed.

No, there's a trailer up front where the old geezer who owns this place stays during the season until Thanksgiving is over, Jeremy was speaking in hushed tones and trying to get Steve to do the same. I hear he's got a Rottweiler in there with him and that's why we have to keep quiet. I don't want my ass getting torn apart by no dog.

Yeah, yeah. Let's just get these damn pumpkins and get the hell out of here, Steve said, looking over and winking at Amber, who was standing off to the side, keeping out of the conversation between these two. She knew too well that Steve had been tormenting Jeremy ever since they were kids and honestly, she didn't understand why Steve even hung around with a dweeb like Jeremy, anyway. All the girls made jokes about this geeky loser who practically drooled every time he came around any of the really hot girls in school. They all whispered about him behind his back and had bets about how many times he played with himself each day because he couldn't get dates from any girls. If they knew about the large collection of porn magazines he had stashed under his bed they'd make even more jokes about his sexuality.

Jeremy glanced aside at Steve as he walked around him so they could look through the large selections of pumpkins. Behind his back Amber held the middle finger of her right hand up with the other fingers closed into a fist, making Steve laugh. Steve walked up and pulled his latest girlfriend to him, pressing their lips together and grabbing hold of her ass-cheeks so she squealed in delight. Jeremy looked back over his shoulder at the two who were making out and shook his head. Was he the only one who took this seriously? He turned his attention to the pumpkins and found one he thought would be a good choice for their purposes. Pulling his pocket knife from his jeans Jeremy cut the vine so it left a five-inch handle and pulled the pumpkin away from the others surrounding it so it sat in the narrow pathway that ran all between the mass of differently sized gourds.

Jeremy stood and moved over to another group of pumpkins, but noticed Steve and Amber were getting too carried away with their making out. Any longer at what they were doing and Steve would have Amber's shirt off her so he could nibble on her nipples. Jeremy felt a hardness down below and as much as he'd like to see any part of Amber's body naked he knew they had to get their pumpkins and get out of there before Old Man Newberry turned his Rott loose on them.

Damn it, Steve. We need to get done and out of here, Jeremy hissed, cutting the stem on another gourd. Steve stopped what he was doing with Amber and turned his head slightly back toward