Pumpkin Fever

“Mr. Corbin?”

Bob Corbin knew by the squeaky voice it was the new kid, what’s-his-name—Phillip. Corbin set down a crate of gourds and smiled as a happy family passed by. Never losing the smile, he raised eyes to the lanky teen awaiting his attention.

“Hey there, Phillip. Enjoying your first week?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Good, good.” He delivered a friendly slap on the back to congratulate the kid, and grabbed up an empty crate. “At Corbin’s Nursery we pride ourselves on a happy staff. Happy staff makes for happy customers.” And happy customers spend money.

Phillip was afraid his boss would walk away before he had a chance to speak his piece, and raised his voice nervously.

“Mr. Corbin! She’s--- she’s back again.”

“Of course she is.” Corbin sighed. He set down the crate and followed the boy out to the lot. The sight of dozens of cars coming and going with armloads of gourds, pumpkins and bales of straw warmed his heart and brought another smile. He had every reason to be in good spirits; October was always his best month.

It didn’t take long to spot Mrs. Duncan’s beat up old van backing up slowly to a rack of pumpkins on long wooden shelves. Corbin shook his head and strode over to greet one of his regulars, leaving Phillip to get back to work.

The van stopped, shuddered and coughed as an elderly woman slowly descended from the passenger side. Luckily her son Keith was at the wheel or the whole display might have been history.

“Mrs. Duncan! Twice in one day!” Corbin got her attention immediately.

“Hello, Bob! Well, it’s that time of year. I’m sure you’ll see more of us before the month’s out.”

Keith was there in an instant, a rugged man that looked nothing like the frail old lady. She began directing him to a stack of the smaller pumpkins and he started loading them in the van without a word.

“Always a pleasure, Mrs. Duncan. You’re our best customer.”

“I should say so. I’ll need at least three hundred this year.”

“Three hundred! What do you with them all?”

“Carve them, light them—you don’t think I bake pies, do you?”

“Well, I wondered. You carve them yourself?”

“Friends and family help. You can, too, if you have a free evening.”

Corbin laughed it off and happily accepted the roll of bills the woman handed him without batting an eye. He figured she must save all year for the occasion and heard she even had a daughter who thought every day was Halloween. She collected every antique item she could find celebrating the holiday. Though he’d never seen the finished work in person, he’d seen the photos of the Duncans’ big Victorian house, every bit of the porch ablaze with Jack o’ lanterns. Apparently she was planning something a bit bigger this year.

“She wants to cover the lawn.” Keith mumbled as he passed with another load.

Corbin didn’t bother counting the cash and tucked the bundle into his shirt pocket. Having set her son about the task of collecting a few dozen more of the larger ones, Mrs. Duncan remembered she’d need about six more bales of straw.

By the time the van grumbled its way back out to the road, the shelves were seriously in need of restocking. Corbin rounded up a few of the boys—Phillip included—and told them to unload another truck pronto. The newest employee could not contain his surprise.

“That old lady bought all those pumpkins?”

“That’s Mrs. Duncan, if you please.” Corbin corrected. “She gets the worse case of pumpkin fever I ever saw, every year-- lucky for us, I suppose. Now let’s get those big orange beauties back on the rack before she comes back!”