doing this.â
Mike and Liz didnât hear me. They were already climbing the front fence, sneaking into the farm.
A few seconds later we stood side by side, catching our breath, gazing at the hills of pumpkins that stretched before us.
The wind whispered through the vines, making them quiver and bend. The scarecrows creaked, shaking their armsas if waving us away. A large pumpkin came bouncing down a hill. Thud thud thudâ¦
âItâs alive!â I cried, making a joke.
But Liz and Mike didnât laugh.
âItâs creepy here at night,â Liz murmured, shivering.
The wind blew my hood back onto my shoulders. A creaking sound made me jump. Just a scarecrow tilting on its pole.
âItâs so silvery and strange at night,â Liz whispered, keeping close to me. âLike walking on the moon.â
Mike pulled something out of the plastic bag he had brought.
âWhatâs that?â I asked.
He held up a can. Spray paint. Black spray paint.
âOh, no. What are you going to do with that?â I asked.
A grin spread over his face. âHave fun.â
âMike, wait--â
He bent down over a large pumpkin and sprayed a smile face across the front. Then he ran along the row of pumpkins, spraying black Xâs over them.
Mike pulled paint cans from his bag and gave one to Liz and one to me.
âNo way,â I said, handing the can back to him.
âCome on, Andrew,â Liz urged. âItâs Halloween. Donât be such a wimp.â She leaned down and sprayed a big black heart on a pumpkin.
Mike sprayed his initials--MG--on a bunch of pumpkins, giggling as he worked. âMr. Palmer will never sell these!â
Liz moved quickly down the row, spraying hearts. I painted I WUZ HERE on a few really big pumpkins.
I stopped when I heard Liz scream. She fell and hit the ground hard. The paint can bounced out of her hand.
I ran over to her. âTripped on a stupid vine,â she groaned. âOw. My ankle.â
As I helped her up, she gazed over my shoulder and let out a startled cry. âHeâs here! Mr. Palmer!â
My heart pounded. I spun around and stared in fright.
No. Not Mr. Palmer.
A scarecrow. Just a tall scarecrow. An orange cap resting on its straw head.
âI think Iâve had enough fun. Itâs too creepy here,â Liz said, rubbing her ankle. âLetâs go home.â
âHey, Mike,â I called. âLetâs get out of here.â
Mike?
Where was he?
I turnedâ¦and gasped.
He was climbing over the green fence.
âNo!â Liz screamed.
âMike--no! Mike!â I cried.
He dropped to the other side. To Mr. Palmerâs private pumpkin collection.
A chill of fear trickled down my back.
Mike is going too far, I thought. Mr. Palmer keeps those pumpkins locked up for a reason. He called them his babiesâ¦.
My heart pounding, I took off, running to the fence. Liz followed, limping on her twisted ankle.
âMike! Hey, Mike!â I called. âCome out of there --now! â
No answer.
Then I heard a shrill scream. â Help me! Ohhh, help! â
I forced myself to run faster. I heard another scream. â Ohhh-- â
The scream cut off quickly.
I reached the fence. It was a few feet taller than me. I jumped and grabbed onto the top.
As I pulled myself up, I thought I saw long, silvery vines moving, standing up like snakes, reaching up, wriggling and twisting up off the ground.
No. No way. Thatâs crazy, I told myself.
Using all my strength, I hoisted myself up--and over to the other side. I landed hard on both feet and gazed around quickly. âMike?â
âAndrew, whatâs going on?â Liz carefully lowered herself over the fence.
âMike?â I called again. Then I saw him, standing at the end of the first row. I recognized his bomber jacket, his jeans, torn at one knee, his sneakersâ¦
But on his shouldersâ¦on his shouldersâ¦
A