By Len A.Hynds

Halloween Pumpkin

It was Halloween, when the front door bell rang, and expecting a friend, I did not affix the Buchanan bib around the neck. I did not put the hall light on, so I opened the door in semi-darkness, only to find six small, seven year olds all scarily dressed with their faces painted in a skeletal design. Each was holding a torch to their face upon which shone a green eerie light.

The obvious ringleader I recognised as my neighbours grandson, a lad I had spoken with on many occasions. He had obviously said to them, before ringing the bell, that in this bungalow lived a man, who spoke words out of his neck, and on shining his green torch at my neck, exposing my stoma for all to see, he said triumphantly, "There, what did I tell you."

Five little mouths and eyes opened wide, as they all shone their green torches on my neck and face, at the sheer horror of being so close to a real Halloween monster. Because they were so low, not all my face was illuminated in that eerie light, with my eye sockets being like the hollow darkness of death. There were moans and sighs all around, and they completely forgot to say, "Trick or treat." as I fumbled for coins to give them, the young ringleader said, "Could you show them. Could you make words come out of your neck."?

I duly put thumb to throat, and wished them all a happy Halloween. They looked astonished, and all took a step backward. The young ringleaderís chest swelled with pride. There is no doubt I had done the young man a power of good that evening.

I wished them all goodnight, and as I closed the door, I heard him boasting as they walked down the path, "Of course, he's a friend of mine. He's very good really. Does Christmas presents."