Thank you to all who have enjoyed this! And thank you for your patience. Look for a Phoebe election story and more Darker/Grey Hearts and Flowers soon. The babies will be born soon, too. Love you guys! xox

"Welcome to Pa Parker's Pumpkins," a man whose face remarkably resembles some version of a gourd says on approach as Taylor and I enter the patch. He's got a long ratty beard, a belt carrying what I hope are the most terrifying looking pumpkin carving tools I've ever seen and not actual serrated weaponry, and he's wearing a shirt that reads: Friends don't let friends drink Starbucks.

Yep, here's our anarchist.

"Let me guess, you're one of those blue men that dances in Vegas," he says to me.

What the fuck? Oh wait, The Blue Man group.

"No, I'm Papa Smurf," I say.

"Did Papa Smurf wear red overalls?"

"In later interpretations," I mutter. "Look, we're in a hurry and we need—"

"And what are you—FBI?" He glares at Taylor while fingering his tool set. Things just got weird all of a sudden, as if an anti-government, anti-business pumpkin proprietor who owns six lots wasn't weird enough. Why did Taylor have to wear such a dark mysterious suit? Of course, he always does. But, now is no time for always.

"No," I say. "He has no affiliation with the government whatsoever. In fact, he spends most of his time in the Canadian mountains plotting subversive activities." Taylor nods in agreement.

"Then what's his costume?"

"He's a..."

"Funeral director," Taylor says. That's what he came up with? I was going to say the butler in Batman or something, because he kind of is.

"Fun," the anarchist pumpkin man says, and he looks oddly pleased.

"I assume you're Mr. Parker," I say.

"How did you know my name?" he shoots off.

"Wild guess," I say. "And since this is Pa Parker's and you're the only one here, I figured—"

"I don't like a lot of employees."

"Sure. I get it. You want quality over quantity."

"No, I don't like a lot of employees," he says.

"Okay... Mr. Parker, listen we need—"

"I like my customers, though. Call me by my first name."

"Sure," I say.

Awkward silence.

"Well, what is it?" I ask, after the crickets get tired of chirping.

"Pa," he says.

"That's really your first name?" I ask.

"Well, it was Paul, but I got rid of the dead weight of the u and the l. It sounds the same without it, and it's harder to track. You know." He looks to Taylor.

"Right. I never tell anyone in Canada my full name," Taylor says.

Shit, this guy is nuts and Taylor's turning pistachios right along with him.

"Hey, if you need anything carved up, it's half priced today since you're in costume and you're practically not a citizen anymore." He smiles at Taylor.

"That's very kind of you, but we just need some regular pumpkins," I say.

"Okay, which will you take?" he asks.

"All of them."

"All of what?"

"All. Of. Them."

"All of them what?"

"Pumpkins. What you sell. And I'll take anything you have at your other patches, too."

"I have seven thousand pumpkins," he says.

"Perfect! Taylor will get you cash."

"Taylor?" he growls, and it could be my imagination, but I think the hair on his chin just bristled up. "Hey, you're that guy who's trying to throw your big money at me and steal my integrity."

"I'm not stealing anything. I'm trying to buy."

"Well, it can't be bought! Twelve. That's the limit per person. I told your henchman here already when he called before." He glares at Taylor. Any love they had is lost.

"Why twelve?" I ask.

"Because anyone wanting more than twelve is either too rich for their own good or too stupid. Or probably both."

"Hey! You can't talk to me like that!" I move to push up my sleeves, until I realize the blue on my arms isn't sleeves, it's skin.

"Mr. Grey, perhaps we should go," Taylor says.

"No, I'm not letting some lumberjack anarchist ruin my children's holiday!"

"Lumberjack?! I save trees, I don't cut 'em down for big timber!"

"Mr. Grey, please."

"Taylor, I can handle it." I brush him off.

"I'm sick of you rich folks thinking you can just throw your Benjamins around and get your way," Pa says. "Well, at my lots everyone gets a fair shake and choices. And no one gets more pumpkins than anyone else."

"What are you—a pumpkin communist?"

"Twelve," he mouths slowly.

"You have seven thousand pumpkins here! And it's Halloween afternoon! Nobody needs any choice anymore. They've already made it. No one's going to come."

Of course, someone comes. A mom dragging a brood of six rough housing boys—all dressed as famous football players— from the car.

"Do you want twelve or not? I have another customer," he says.

"Fine, but give us twelve each," I say. "We're two separate people, you know."

"I didn't."

"Hey!" I lunge and Taylor catches my arm.

"Sir, think of the children."

I back off immediately. "Just give us our pumpkins," I say.

I'll go get some together," Pa says. "But, the carving offer is off the table." He snarls and takes off behind some area sectioned off by a pumpkin guts splattered sheet. I don't even want to know what goes on back there.

"Well, twenty-four more is better than nothing, sir," Taylor says. "And with the ones I obtained before—"

"Fuck! How am I supposed to build the greatest pumpkin patch the world has ever seen with only a hundred and fifty pumpkins!"

"We could space them out over the area, sir."

"It's an acre. We might as well turn it into a treasure hunt. If you find one, you win nothing."

"We could get those jack-o-lantern candy pails and set them around. Some are quite realistic now, sir."

"Are you fucking kidding me? The Great Pumpkin wouldn't come for that. In fact, he'd have us put on some version of a Halloween no fly list."

"Sir, the Great Pumpkin is us," he cautiously reminds me."

"I know that! But, I'm not going to trick my children with fake shit." I pace. "I need these pumpkins or tonight is ruined!" My hope is nearly lost, but when I look up it hits me—right after the ball that Tom Brady throws hits me right in my shin.

Fuck—that hurt!

"Sorry, sir," Little Tommy says as I throw the ball back to him, and then count his brothers.

"Wait a minute, Taylor." I point to the mom and brood. "There are seven different people over there."

"Yes, sir."

"And seven times twelve is eighty-four."

"Yes, sir."

"And eighty-four plus twenty-four is one hundred and eight."

"Yes, sir." He's looking at me like he might need to call Flynn on an emergency. "Did the ball hit your head by any chance, sir?"

"No, listen! We buy the pumpkins off of customers! Pay them whatever they want."

"That could work, sir. But, he's liable to catch on. And how will we get enough people to do this?"

"We'll be sly, like we always are. And if it works with this woman and her kids, you could go recruit people in line at the DMV across the street."

"But, they'll lose their place."

"But, we'll pay their registration."

"Good thinking, sir."

"Keep watch," I say and then look to make sure the Pumpkin Nazi is still busy behind his sheet before making my way over to the mom of six.

"Excuse me," I say over her shoulder and she jumps. "I'm, sorry. I hope I didn't frighten you."

"No, it's okay." She turns to face me. She looks a bit cautious. Give her the old razzle dazzle, Grey.

"Good. Now listen," I say in a hushed tone. "I need to ask you something. And I need you to stay quiet about it. Do you understand?"

"Okay..."

I look both ways before I lean in to her to whisper...

"How much would I have to pay you to get ahold of your pumpkins?"

#######

"It was all a huge misunderstanding, officer," I say to the cop as I nurse my eyes from the pepper spray. Damn. This must be the extra spicy variety. I'd better make sure every woman in my family has at least five canisters of this stuff at all times.

"I'm sorry," the lady who sprayed me says, "but, when a strange blue man asks to pay you for your pumpkins you just assume the worst."

"Yes, if you weren't currently in a pumpkin patch on Halloween!" I say, and I'm crying from the sting. "And if I was trying to assault you, why would I offer you top dollar first?"

"Wait, why were you trying to pay her for her pumpkins when you could just buy your own?" the cop asks, with his ready little pad in hand.

"Because there's a limit of twelve. I need seven thousand!"

Everyone looks at me like I may be insane. Everyone, but Taylor. He knows I am.

"There's a limit on pumpkins?" the cop asks Pa Parker.

"Hey, I don't answer any questions from the police without a lawyer," Pa blurts out.

"Okay, why do you need seven thousand pumpkins?" the cop asks me.

"That's exactly my question!" Pa says.

"Because I'm building the best and biggest pumpkin patch in the world so the Great Pumpkin will come tonight!"

"Are you currently on any medication, sir?" the cop asks.

"No, he's like this normally," Taylor says.

"It's for my children!" I say.

"Oh I get it, your spoiled rich kids get everything," Pa says.

"You know, I'm sick of you saying shit like that!" I stand up. "I was dirt poor when I was little like them. And yeah, they do get the best of everything that I've earned with my blood, sweat and tears. I want them to have it. And they're good kids. They have manners and they're kind. And I will never apologize for trying my damnedest to make their dreams come true."

"I'm sorry man," he says, softer now. "It's just I know a lot of kids I work with at the Boys and Girls Club who are like four or five or six and they have nothing. They don't even have costumes to go out and get candy with. I was gonna have them carve pumpkins here and buy some candy for them. Because, to them, tonight isn't special or fun. It's just another night."

I remember those "just another nights" well... Looking out of my window when I was four, I saw cats and ghosts and pirates walking beneath, carrying sacks and plastic jack-o-lanterns overflowing with candy. They were having the best time and I was stuck up there alone. I didn't even know what Halloween was, but I knew I wanted to be a part of it.

"Why don't you invite them?" I ask.

"What?" Pa says.

"We have a big carnival party going on. There'll be hay rides, a petting zoo, games. My kids' entire school is going. We could get them costumes and candy... as long they pass security checks and sign NDAs."

"You mean like government shit?" He raises a brow.

"No, it's just personal. So no one will reveal any information to outsiders."

"I like that," he says, then gets a little emotional—his eyes welling up, his beard laying down. "You'd do that man?"

"Of course. That's what Halloween is all about."

"No, that's Christmas. Halloween is about scaring people and shit. But, it's supposed to be fun!" He laughs, but stops mid guffaw and eyes me. "Wait, you're not doing it just to get into my pumpkins, are you?"

"No. Although, it's incentive," I joke to the best of my ability, which isn't much, but it's improved over the years.

"Tell you what—you donate everything to the Boys and Girls Club and you can have all the pumpkins here for free."

"That's generous, but you don't have to do that. I'm happy to donate and to pay."

"Hey, I insist. Besides, I'm true to my convictions and I told you I don't want big business involved with my patch!"

"Fine, fair enough."

He lunges at me and I fear some sort of attack, but he instead gives me the most terrifying, heartfelt bear hug. Ugh, pit odor. But, I suppose it's the thought that counts.

"Okay, that's good," I say, after the thought counts on about a minute or sixty too long, and he backs away.

"Can we go?" one of the six boys asks the mom.

"Well, I'm not sure they'd want us there, I pepper sprayed him," she says.

"It's fine," I say. "You're all invited."

"Well this was a beautiful happily ever after," the officer says. "But, I have a question, do you have a permit for this carnival you're putting on in your yard?"

Everyone stops and glares at him.

"I'm joking. I'll look the other way on it. For the kids."

The kids!

"Taylor," I turn to him. "I have to get home to take Phoebe and Teddy trick-or-treating so we'll be back in time. The Great Pumpkin is going to rise from the most sincere patch the world has ever known and I don't want to miss it!"

#######

"I got Skittlies, and choc-o-lot nutsy bars and gummy bears," Phoebe says, going through her sack as we all walk as a family up the sidewalk, finishing up our trick-or-treating. She has no idea her bag is hand sewn silk couture by Chanel. In fact, she thinks the double C emblem at the front means Cute Cat. The eyes those mothers give it when we go from house to house is hilarious.

"How do you know?" I ask, holding tight to her hand. She can't read yet.

"I know the colors and I could feel the bumps."

"I got laffy taffy again," Teddy says through his space helmet. He actually sounds like he's on Mars giving an assessment of some planetary matter he's found. "The nana kind. Yuck."

"What's wrong with banana laffy taffy?" Ana asks with a giggle, holding to his hand.

"It tastes like if you lay a throw-away spoon next to a nana, but you throwed away the nana and you ate the spoon, 'nstead."

"That good, huh?" I ask and laugh. "Now remember, you're not eating any of that candy until your mother, and I, and the security team have a look at it."

"But, why lookie when you could eatie?" Phoebe asks.

"Because we need to make sure there are no bugs or anything in it, first."

"Eww!" Phoebe says. "There's bugs?"

"Cool!" Teddy digs through his sack. "I want to see them!"

"Put it away," I say and he surprisingly complies.

"Hey, bro!" Elliot yells out to us. Oh great, here they come—Dee, Dum and their innocent little bystander. "Is this the moment I steal your candy? It's a tradition."

The kids all laugh hysterically. Why don't they laugh like that when I make a joke?

"Funny, Elliot." I look down to see he's carrying a sack. I at first think it's Ava's sack, but she's got one already. "You actually went trick-or-treating for yourself?"

"Heck yeah, I'm not gonna miss out on all

the free candy when it's passed out like this!" That was his dating mantra in college.

"Ava, you is the most pretty hot dog I ever sawed!" Phoebe says, hugging her as they jump up and down.

"My hair is did so it would match my mustard squiggle," she says. What does that mean? It's yellow and curly like her hair?

"It looks so good like it," Phoebe says.

"Oh Ana, I love you with blonde hair," Kavanagh says, twirling Ana's Smurfette locks with her fingers. "We could be twins!"

"I know, I was thinking that," Ana says and giggles.

Oh God forbid.

"It's almost time for the Great Pumpkin," I say. "Are you kids excited?"

"Yay!" the kids cheer—including Elliot.

"Sir," Taylor flags me from the rolled down car window. He's been driving slow down the street with us as we've been walking house to house.

"That's kinda creepy man," Elliot says, leaning in to me. "It's like your hearse is a followin' and the grim repaper is a hollerin'." He does his Dracula laugh.

"Go collect some more fun bars." I wave him away and hand Phoebe off to Ana while they all make their way up to another house.

"What is it? Did the pumpkins make it?" I ask Taylor at the car window.

"Yes, the work crew just finished a half an hour ago. Gail says it's spectacular, sir! Parker has even carved up a giant display of pumpkins out front that will be illuminated."

"Excellent. What's the problem?"

"We have an issue with the Great Pumpkin himself, sir. They hired an actor from Los Angeles. His flight was delayed due to weather."

"They don't have weather in Los Angeles!"

"I think it's a delay from another city. He had to take a later flight because he had a scene on an internet soap opera that went long."

"What are you talking about? Why didn't we pay him more than they're paying him for that web shit?"

"They're not paying him in money, sir. They're paying him in exposure."

Hollywood. I shake my head.

"That's ridiculous, I'll expose him all he wants and I'll throw dollars at him to boot!" Wait, that sounded wrong. "Why didn't we send the jet?"

"We thought this would be faster, sir."

"It would've been faster to walk." I run a hand through my hair, because what else would I do when I'm stressed? "When's he going to get here?"

"Hopefully by eight and I can race him down here."

"Christian," Ana calls out from the porch. "Grandma Shoemaker wants to see your costume."

Oh hell, the woman with the breasts to her knees. I didn't think she could see anymore. She's always trying to pinch my cheeks and give me odd flavored baked goods.

"Be right there!" I yell. "Okay, go to the airport and wait, Taylor. And keep me informed!"

"Yes, sir. I'll have Sawyer keep watch over you here."

He drives off.

Hell, if it's not one thing, it's an actor.

#######

"I've never seen so many pumpkins in all of my life!" Teddy says as we all look out over the backyard—or rather the magical place now called Greyt Pumpkin Land. That's actually what it says on the pumpkins Pa carved out front.

There are haystacks and hayrides, ponies and carnival games. Life-size books with various comic strip drawings of scenes from the film line the storybook path that heads into the Trick-or-Treat Woods. There are a row of playhouses for the kids to go door-to-door and get candy from the various Peanuts characters, and a place you can have Lucy's Witches Brew Punch or Charlie Brown's Rock Candy, or my personal favorite, Peppermint Patty's Hot Cocoa. And at the very end, at the top of the hill, is the exact duplicate of Linus' patch where the Great Pumpkin will rise from. It's like we stepped out of our lives and right into the cartoon.

"There's so many pumpkies, it's now the grass," Phoebe says as she lets go of my hand and hopscotches between them with Ava to get to the petting zoo.

"Daddy, there's oooni-corns," she shouts back when she finds the horses that are wearing headbands. She's as excited as Christmas morning, and it fills my heart to the brim.

"This the coolest thing I ever seen!" Teddy's friend Fritzy yells. "We could dip apples in a big pot of green bubble slime stirred by a real witch!"

"Cool!" Teddy says as he runs off with his friends. "The Great Pumpkin's just gotta come tonight! I just know it!"

"Yes, he has to," I say, and then check my phone for the umpteenth time tonight. Where the hell is Taylor?

Three hundred children run through the greatest pumpkin patch the world has ever known, but all I see are my own. They're laughing and happy and playing with their friends. They look like the children I watched from my window. I smile. Maybe I could never have this for myself, but I've given it to them and that's so much better.

"Christian, you are unreal," Ana says as we look out together, holding hands on this unseasonably warm fall night.

"So are you, Mrs. Grey." I lift her hand to my lips and kiss it. "Perhaps we can take a hayride later." I wink and she dips her head all bashful as she smiles.

"No, I'm serious. I know I was on you about this before, but it's wonderful. Not only have you made our kids the happiest, those underprivileged children get to have a Halloween like this, too." She looks up to me, smiling. "I'm so proud of you."

"It's what, I do, Ana," I say matter of factly with a shrug. I don't like being praised for doing my duty.

"Yes, it is," she says and reaches up to kiss me as we stand beneath an apple tree and a harvest moon. Painted on a wall, but still...

"Why are we out with the crops in the middle of the night?" my grandfather asks as he, my grandmother and my folks walk up. "In my day, that only happened when you accidentally got locked out taking a piss, or you just said that's why your pants were down."

"Dad!" Grace says, shaking her head. "We're waiting for the Great Pumpkin, remember?"

"Who?" he cups his ear.

"The Great Pumpkin," Grace says louder.

"Is that one of those hip thrusting musicians?"

"No, it's he's biggest pumpkin of them all!"

"There are so many pumpkins I can't walk out here, why are we waiting for one more?"

"Oh, you old coot," my grandmother says. "Eat your candy." She hands him a chocolate bar, which he happily scarfs down.

"Oh Christian, here." Grace hands me a pumpkin and immediately pulls out her iPhone.

"What's this for?"

"I want to take a picture. You look so cute in your costume." She snaps away.

"I'm not six."

"I know, I keep forgetting," she smiles. "Now, stand with Ana." She snaps again, and again, and again...

"Mia!" I see her in the distance, and when she gets closer, I nearly lose my shit. "What are you wearing?"

"I'm Little Miss Muffet," she says.

"And I can almost see your tuffet, so before the spider arrives for your curds and whey, go change."

"Christian, it's the same length as mine," Ana says.

"Exactly!" I say.

Both Ana and Mia roll their eyes. Of course they do!

Speaking of spiders...

"Hey guys, sorry we're late," the photographer says, dragging that father of his along, with Ray not far behind.

"Oh we don't mind, you could be later," I say, and Ana gives me a nudge. "I mean, welcome." Jose Sr. grumbles something. It's probably a curse.

"Daddy!" Ana says as she hugs Ray. "I'm so glad you made it on such short notice!"

"Annie, I wouldn't miss it for the world!" He steps back and looks at her. "But, don't you think that skirt's a bit short?"

"That's what I said!" I say and she waves us both off like we're joking or something.

"Oh cool, Smurfs!" Jose says. "Let me get a shot!" Of course he takes one only of Ana, but I move in quick. No one's photographing Smurfette without her Papa.

"Yoo-hoo!" That voice! It's that new teacher Tilly making her way for me, and she's still dressed as that bee.

"Oh hell," I say. "Where's my bug spray?"

"Christian, she likes you. Be nice."

"I'm always nice!" She gives me a look. "But, I have to protect myself."

"What a wonderful party!" Tilly says.

"Thank you," I say, watching her take down one of those freshly dipped apples. Hell, I feel sorry for any man who's dick is within three feet of that mouth. "Are you enjoying?"

"Oh yes, fresh dipped apples are my favorite." She licks her lips and I feel vomit flying up my throat.

"I can see that."

"You know Halloween is my favorite holiday... next to Valentine's Day." She wipes caramel off her lips and sucks it off her finger. I've seen frogs eat flies sexier than this. "I go all out for the day of love." She shoots her look my way and I can hear Ana snort a little laugh. Why isn't she jealous? Of course, why would she be?

My phone buzzes. Saved by the bell.

"Excuse me," I say and step away to take a call from Taylor.

"He's not here," Taylor says.

"What? I thought he was due by eight."

"They had an emergency landing in Sacramento."

"Why?"

"He got too drunk in first class, fought with the flight crew and inadvertently exposed himself to everyone on board."

"What?! Inadvertently?"

"He mistook the empty seat across the aisle as a urinal, sir."

"Oh my God! I want this guy locked up!"

"I think that's what's next, sir."

"Taylor, you have the costume, right?"

"Yes, Mr. Grey.

"Well, you're going to have to do this."

"I'm not an actor, sir."

"No, but it's easy. All you do is put on the costume, crawl through the patch until you reach the designated location and jump up, throw your candies out judiciously and tell everyone Happy Halloween."

"Alright, sir." He sounds nervous. He survived the battlefields of war, and yet a pumpkin patch scenario scares him. "I should be there before nine."

"Hurry!" I hang up.

Shit, this better work. Well, the kids are having so much fun now. As long as he's here before nine there shouldn't be a problem...

#######

"It's 9:05, where the fuck are you, Taylor?" I whisper into my phone, pacing next to the witch dipping those apples. I think she's giving me the eye. Either that or her green contact is stuck.

"I'm caught in the worst traffic, sir," Taylor says, beeping horns sounding behind him. "They're having a horror show costume parade downtown. It's quite impressive."

"I don't fucking care about some ugly contest! When will you get here?"

"I'll do my best to get there soon, sir!"

I hang up. Fuck.

"Where's the Great Pumpkin?" Fritzy asks Teddy as they stand with a group of other friends across the way.

"I bet you he's not even coming," says another girl who's eating sour worms out of an Oreo crumb dirt filled pail. It's disgusting, really.

"He is too coming!" Teddy says.

"Maybe he didn't think this was the best patch," that boy with the Harry Potter glasses says. "Maybe he's already passed it by."

What a little shit!

"He did not. He's coming!" Teddy says. "He's just checking all the patches first to make sure he picks the si-seerest one!"

"The Great Pumpkin isn't real!" some other kid dressed as a grasshopper says. "Everyone knows that!"

"He is to!" Phoebe rushes in. "If anybody don't believe my brother I'm gonna make 'em!" She knots up her fist and winds back her hitting arm.

"Phoebe!" I say, rushing over and picking her up before the grasshopper gets a fist in the wing.

"They say the Great Pumpkin isn't coming," Teddy says. "Isn't he, Daddy?"

"Of course he is!" I say.

"Then where is he?" Fritzy asks. "Doesn't he got a bedtime?"

"We're just not in the right area for him to see us," I say.

"Where do we go?" Worm Girl asks.

"To the top of the Trick-or-Treat forest," I say, and lead the kids over to the area Taylor will pop his pumpkin head out of. It's odd to be waiting for Taylor to do that. It usually just happens.

"Everyone, to the woods!" I say to the excited crowds as we make our way through and up to the tip top. I feel like the pied piper or something. "The Great Pumpkin should be arriving any minute!"

A minute turns into five, that turns into ten, that turns into...

"Dude, it's getting really late," Elliot says. "The kids have to get to bed."

"I know, but he's coming any minute!"

"This has been wonderful," a mom says to me, carrying her sleeping three-year-old. But, I have to get her home."

"Yeah, my kids are sugared out," another says. "Thanks for the great party!"

"Yeah, thanks!" another says.

And one after another, they start to peel away.

"No wait, he's coming!" I say.

#######

9:47 pm. He hasn't come.

Everyone has gone. It's only me, Teddy and a sleeping Phoebe in my arms alone in the pumpkin patch, who still believe.

"You guys, it's pretty late now," Ana says, coming up to us. "Maybe the Great Pumpkin will leave goodies while you're sleeping."

"Ten more minutes, Ana," I say and she smiles sweetly and goes back inside. I know this is breaking her heart as well.

"Is he still coming, Daddy?" Teddy asks, looking up at me with Ana's blue eyes and my ruffled copper locks.

"Well yes, but maybe your mother is right. Maybe we should go to bed and he'll leave things—"

"Maybe we didn't do a si-seer enough patch," Teddy says.

"There's no patch bigger than this," I say. "This is the best—"

"Yeah, but maybe he's not looking for the biggest one," Teddy says. "Maybe it needs to be little-er to be si-seer." He stands up and starts to arrange a dozen small pumpkins beneath a bale of hay. The irony not lost on my that the number is twelve. "Maybe that's why he never came for Linus. 'Cuz Linus did stuff to make him come. Maybe you just gotta make a patch 'cuz you love it and you don't care if he comes at all. You just love your patch."

"That is the wisest thing I've ever heard." I smile. And watching him arrange pumpkins simply out of love, I have learned one important lesson—I can learn a lot from my son.

Suddenly, there's a rustle in the haystacks.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Dad, I think he's here!" Teddy hollers.

"He's here!" Phoebe jumps up. "I gotta see!"

"I think maybe you're right!" I say, hoping it really is Taylor and not a wild animal, or a burglar, or someone who snuck a flask in and passed out and is just coming to.

"Happy Halloween!" a deep voice echoes from behind a scarecrow and the pumpkins vibrate as the shadow of a towering figure with a gigantic pumpkin head rises in the night. Holy fuck, Taylor is really going all out for this.

"Great Pumpkin you came!" Teddy shouts and the kids clap and squeal.

"I knew my brother wasn't a blockhead!" Phoebe says, clapping.

"I've just travelled the world and seen all the best pumpkin patches, but I can now say this one is the most sincere in all the land."

"Yay!" the kids shout.

"It's because it was made from the heart and not just by the hands."

He takes out a gigantic sack and sprinkles candy all over the place that the kids rush to scoop up. I immediately get out my phone to take pictures of this for posterity, and also to prove it to those little snots at the school.

"Now, I must be on my way, but you should be proud that your patch is now written in my book of the greatest the world has ever known for all of time."

He disappears back down behind the hay whence he came and like that he's gone. Even though he was late, Taylor's getting a raise for that one.

"See kids, if you just keep on believing and do your best with your whole heart, then magical things happen."

"I'm gonna do everything with my heart from now on," Teddy says.

"Yeah, me too!" Phoebe says. "My heart says it needs a hamster."

Those Count Chester books...

"How about we talk about that next year," I say. Me, with a clothing wearing rodent in my house? Never gonna happen.

"Kids, I heard cheering," Ana says, coming up from the back.

"He came, Mommy!" Teddy says.

"Yeah, and he gave us good candy!" Phoebe says.

"He did, huh?" Ana asks and smiles up at me. "Well, why don't you tell me all about it when we get ready for bed. It's very late."

They scamper inside.

"Good job, Daddy," Ana says. "Maybe you'll get your real treat upstairs." She kisses me and then smiles seductively before she takes off after our children. She's still got her blue ass in that tight skirt.

Mercy.

"Sir," I hear Taylor whisper-shout as he rushes toward me, completely in his Great Pumpkin costume.

"Taylor, you are amazing!"

"I am?"

"What a perfect Great Pumpkin you are!"

"You aren't mad, sir?" he asks.

"Mad? No. Well, I'm not happy you were late, but you made up for it. You know those other kids lost faith, but mine just kept on believing. And they were rewarded for that. Not only did I make their dreams come true, they learned valuable lessons tonight. We really did something amazing here."

"What are you talking about, sir?"

"It's okay, the kids went to bed. You can speak freely. I loved how you threw your voice. Was that a wartime trick?"

"Sir, I'm not sure I know what you mean."

I give him the once over and notice something strange.

"Wait, this isn't your costume," I say, looking at this weird orange leotard and cape with a big GP written on it that he's got on. "Yours was all black and the head was twice as big. I thought you were on stilts; you looked eight feet tall."

He takes off the head to his get-up. "When was this, sir?"

"Just a minute ago when you rose up out of the pumpkin patch and declared this the best patch in all the land and showered the kids with candy."

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"I just got here, sir. Traffic was horrific and there were so many people out I couldn't get a good signal on my phone."

"You mean you didn't just—"

"No, sir."

We both look out at the patch. There's a smiling jack-o-lantern out there that wasn't there before.

"You know, Taylor, maybe we didn't do something quite that amazing after all..."