Date: Tue, 7 Oct 1997 15:50:10 MDT From: Robyn Meta Herrington Subject: SUB:CONTEST: Can't Look Ah. The first of the Halloween offerings. Read and enjoy, critique if you want to, BUT SEND THE CRITS TO ME, NOT TO THE LIST! ==> rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca <== =================================================================== "Can't Look" I hit the ground running. At least that's what I tried to do. I rolled out of that bed and as soon as my feet were on the floor I was at the door. It was still locked. My legs shook, and I could taste what seems like blood in my throat. Which for a nano-second made me forget where I was and try to remember when I had ever had blood in my throat. No matter, there was a hot rusty achy feeling in my throat, fear or my heart climbing out. The noise came again. It was behind me. Right behind me. I groaned and leaned my forehead onto the door. I gave the handle another turn. Soft moan. Mine. Did I want to turn around? Actually I just wanted to die right then, I hoped my heart would explode and I wouldn't have to turn and face the noise. I whimpered. That damn noise. A rattley wheeze, wet, like snot burbling out of a kids nose. But wetter, deeper. Christ, I couldn't look again. I always thought Halloween was a joke. Pranks, throwing pumpkins, bashing mail boxes. Funny or scary costumes, and carving pumpkins. They were a tradition, didn't mean anything, just fun to look at. More fun to smash. This year I had really spent time on carving one pumpkin. For some reason Johnson had it growing in his yard. It was huge. Must have gone eighty pounds. He said it was some kinda special seed his aunt had given him. He thought the pumpkin was creepy. I mean it looked like a gargoyle already. Sorta sitting hunched over on its knobby knee and seemed to watch his house. Anyway, I had to have it. I thought the guys would love this. It was three feet tall, I mean truly weird. Johnson didn't care for it though. Said it was as weird as his aunt. He was supposed to harvest it during a dark moon, and use it to make some sort of grog or something with it. But he just didn't like it. I talked him out of the ugly thing. Turns out the old aunt was purely pissed off at him and me both. I mean it was just an ugly pumpkin. Cool, but ugly. She even called me up to complain. Saying it had taken her years to get the seed right, and now I was ruining things, and boy was Johnson ever going to regret not following her directions. I mean, she was old and creepy. Johnson didn't have much to do with her anyway. I can't begin to figure what the deal with the seeds was. She lived in the middle of Amberville in a tiny apartment. What would make her mess around with pumpkin seeds? I've found out what the pumpkins are for. I thought well, they are scary and fun. Fun to smash, too. I never though about them being a warning to the evil spirits to keep away. Never thought of them being a warning at all. I mean, they are just pumpkins, right? I carved the pumpkin, at least I held the knife. I sorta felt like an artiste, I just cut away everything that didn't look like it was a gargoyle. Man, that pumpkin was a work of art. It could have been on a famous building somewhere. I hauled it out to Johnson's and we stuck it on his front porch. He was wowed. We put on some black capes, and sat out on the porch with a black plastic pot full of candy and some cold beer. I was going to stay over and after the kids had left off trick-or-treating we were going to ride around and whoop it up some. The gargoyle glowed behind us. I mean, it was scary. Cars pulled up to the driveway, slowed, and drove off. We joked and drank beer. Johnson was okay for awhile, then he just started acting weird. He started talking slow and deep. Saying stuff that didn't make sense. He kept turning around to look at the gargoyle. Finally he fell asleep on the porch. Well, shit, I thought. I hauled him into his room, and rolled him out on the bed and looked at him for a minute. I could see the glowing gargoyle from his window. Which wasn't right because the porch was on the other side of the house. Johnson curled up into a little ball. I went to the door, but it was locked. I shook it, nothing. I went to the window and looked at the glowing light, it was closer. Some kids must have come by and fooled with the thing. The smash knocked me down. I could see the bed and the flaming pumpkin on what was Johnson head. Someone started screaming, and then it was quiet. Then just this thick sucking wet sound and I passed out. I know I passed out on the floor, how I got on Johnson's bed I don't know. But I don't think I can turn around, and even the scent of warm pumpkin flesh can't cover the taste of blood in mouth. ==================================================================== ---------------------------------*=*=*=*=*=*-------------------------------- Robyn Herrington,Editor rmherrin@acs.ucalgary.ca InfoServe www.ucalgary.ca/~rmherrin New Currents in Teaching and Technology Communications Media MacKimmie Library University of Calgary Ph: 220-3716 (temporary) == Inter tormentia latitia == ---------------------------------*=*=*=*=*=*--------------------------------