As I was leaving our neighborhood in the dark this morning – on Halloween Eve (All Hallows Eve Eve?) – I saw a smashed pumpkin on the sidewalk and I immediately thought of a classic Gary family story.
Most families have good stories they share and we’ve got a bunch of them:
- The time I was stranded at my part-time college job during an ice storm and spent the night in a mall
- The time my mom was unclogging a commode and my sister came in at just the wrong moment
- My dad’s many colorful stories about life growing up on the Gary farm
And so if you were ever to mention a smashed pumpkin around anyone in our family, you’ll likely hear one of us break into this one particular story. But first…some background…
When I was a youngster – let’s say early middle school days – the kids in our neighborhood had lots of fun. We’d play whatever sport was in season and if we weren’t playing a sport, we were playing some other game. But then, something happened around the time were in our late middle school years.
A bully kid – we’ll call him Burt- moved into the neighborhood. He teamed up with some other kids who had bully-like tendencies and they formed a team. They did lots of neighborhood mischief and they identified one kid that they really liked to pick on.
We’ll call him…Lenny.
These guys picked on Lenny mercilessly. Burt and his crew would tee-pee Lenny’s yard regularly. They teased him all the time. They just generally messed with him. He was an easy mark.
And the thing about Burt’s group…each member had a mission. One of them would just laugh - kind of like that little cartoon dog, Mumbly, who’d always laugh when bad misfortune would hit some good person.
He’d laugh a lot at Lenny.
I was the neighborhood neutral. Everyone seemed to like me. I associated with everyone. I got along fine with Burt and his boys. I also spent time with Lenny and his friends, too, and stood up for him when the teasing got too bad.
So, it was all the more surprising that fateful night – that All Hallow’s Eve so many years ago – when my mom looked out the front window and saw someone running away with our Jack-o-Lantern. It was Lenny.
Mom had a habit of looking out the window and so it wasn’t astonishing that she’d choose to do so that Halloween Night. She was probably taking one last look to make sure the Trick-or-Treaters were done. She looked out the window and, voila, there was Lenny. I think she was just stunned at what transpired before her very eyes.
He wasn’t even very sneaky about pilfering the pumpkin. He brazenly walked up on the front porch and grabbed the gourd. You might have imagined Burt or one of his minions served as the protagonist in this tale. But, alas, it was Lenny.
After he made his move, Lenny, ran away with the pumpkin - our pumpkin - and, still within eyesight of our house, he smashed it on the street. The carnage looked very much like the one I saw on the street this morning – large hunks of orange with strands of the inside pulp strewn like spaghetti around the pavement, dotted with tan seeds.
The question that has remained over all these years (my sister raised it again, even, in the last few months) is Why?
Was Lenny trying to prove his mettle? Was he trying to show Burt and his boys that he was no pushover? Or did he somehow think that I was responsible for some of the mischief against him? Or does he just not like pumpkins?
I’ve had several chances over the years to ask him this question but I never could talk myself into bringing it up.
In any case, over all these years, we’ve wondered about that mystery. But, every good mystery produces a good story. Every time we tell the story, the pumpkin becomes bigger; the splatter gets messier.
Most families love a good story. They add to the family lore, especially, around this time of the year.
JG
Originally posted 10/30/2012
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