Page 42 of Fixing the Grumpy Pumpkin King
“Hey, can you take over ticket sales?” Rowan was already moving, one hand on Locke’s shoulder, steering him away from the crowd. “Come on. Let’s go to my house. We can talk freely there. My parents love Halloween, so they’re out doing their thing. Probably trying to get people to try Mom’s spooky charcuterie board.”
Rowan’s house (or more accurately, his parents’ house) sat on the edge of town, a modest country-style home that should have looked normal. Would have looked normal anywhere else. But this was Hollow Hill, and Rowan’s mom had gone full Halloween enthusiast.
Real pumpkins lined the porch, carved into actual art pieces that Jack would probably approve of. The front lawn sported a fake graveyard complete with weathered headstones. Paper bats hung from the eaves. A scarecrow slumped in a rocking chair, wearing what looked suspiciously like one of Rowan’s hand-sewn jackets.
Inside, the house smelled like something spicy and rich was baking. the house was comfortable, lived in, and safe and Locke had almost preferred it to the apartment above the shop.
Locke sank into the couch and wiped at his face. His eyes felt puffy. His chest ached.
“I’ve been holding everything in,” he said quietly, “and I don’t even know how much of it you’d believe.”
Rowan sat across from him, patient. Present. “Key, I’ll believe anything at this point. Why the hell not? I already suspected a few things, but I don’t have the whole picture.”
Locke took a breath. Steadied himself.
“Jack is… a supernatural…being. That's the best way i can explain it. He’s a being that I summoned during the play. By accident.”
Silence.
Locke waited for the disbelief. The laughing. Theyou’ve lost your mind.
“I KNEW IT!” Rowan practically launched forward, pointing at him. “I knew there was something strange about him! I mean, come on! He’s been walking around with a pumpkin mask for damn near an entire month, and I’m quite sure that’s like a real pumpkin and it hasn’t even rotted yet.”
They both laughed, a little hysterical, a little relieved.
“You really believe me?”
“Well, there’s really no other explanation. The guy literally showed up out of nowhere in the middle of our play. No one knows who he is. This is a fucking small town. Everybody knows everybody. Hell, there’s probably a few cousins married to each other. And yet no one knows this guy.” Rowan shrugged. “At first I thought maybe he was some friend from Portland you knew, but… And besides, Hollow Hill is a very strange place. Always has been. Always kinda had, I don’t know, maybe something magical about it.”
The words poured out then. The grimoire. The summoning. The past few weeks of Jack trying so hard to court him and being adorably terrible at it. Falling in love despite every instinct screaming at him to protect himself.
“Well then I don’t see the problem,” Rowan said when Locke paused for breath. “He sounds like the perfect man. God, damn it, why can’t I conjure up any hot harvest gods?”
They both laughed again, and Locke felt like he could finally breathe properly.
“Last night was perhaps the best night of my life. No one has ever touched me the way that Jack touched me. He made me feel loved and desired and just… everything.”
“Then why are you so gloomy?”
Locke’s throat tightened. “This morning…or this afternoon, whenever the hell we woke up, Jack asked me to live forever with him. To go back to the Loam together and be immortal gods. He’s saying stuff about being bound together and becoming one, and I don’t know what the hell any of that means. But he has to leave tonight at midnight. With or without me.”
Rowan stood up so fast his chair scraped. He paced to the kitchen, yanked open the fridge, and pulled out a pitcher of iced tea and two glasses before returning and poured two glasses. He gulped down his entire cup in three swallows.
“So wait the fuck a minute. Just wait a minute here.” Rowan set the glass down hard. “You have some immortal god with magical powers and everything, telling you that he can make you an immortal god where you can go off and live in his freaking god palace...I’m quite sure he has a fucking palace...forever and ever, and you’re like ‘let me think about it’? Are you crazy?”
“Well, Jack can only be summoned here, and it can only be done during the equinox time. And then he has to leave. Wouldn’t I have to go by the same rules, too? Which means I’d have to leave everything behind. Leave my grandma behind, Pumpkin, and you.”
“If it takes someone conjuring you guys back every year, I can do that. Just hand me the damn book. I’ll say the words every year and bring you guys back, and we can hang out. You can tell me all about what it’s like to be a god, and you can introduce me to some freaking gods. Then I’ll make one fall in love with me. And then we’ll both be gods. How is that a bad thing?”
Locke laughed. Actually laughed. The sound bubbled up from somewhere deep, shaking loose all the fear and worry that had been strangling him since Jack left.
“How is this any different from going off to college and then coming home every year?” Rowan continued, warming to his theme. “Everybody’s gotta grow up and leave the nest. I’m quite sure your grandmother will understand that. And your parents? I can arrange for your parents to come over, and then boom, I say the words, you guys pop up, family reunion instantly.”
“What am I gonna do with you?”
“What you can do is listen to me, because I know what I’m talking about. But then again I can understand the hesitation if you gotta spend an eternity with a pumpkin-headed guy. I guess that could be a little weird.”
“Hey, the pumpkin head is kinda cute. But he showed me his true form last night.”
