3
BLOSSOM
“Welcometo the twentieth annual Pumpkin Wars! Where two combatants battle for the coveted pumpkin crown. Witch versus wolf. Who will win?” Root Fernmore, normally a quiet man, always finds the voice of a circus ringmaster on these weekends.
In response to my papa’s intro, the crowd gathered in his pumpkin patch roars their predictions. There are shouts of, “Witch!” and, “Wolf!” and, “Where’s the pumpkin pie?”
That last one came from Owen MacNamara. The selkie grins as he holds a mug of spiked cider, steam rising into the slight chill of the sunny autumn day. From his silly comment, one might guess he has no stake in these games. But the seal shifter owns Clean Haven, the local recycling company Manny works for.
Which means he’s on the side of the enemy.
I gaze out over the collection of attendees, a number that has shot up over the years.
The first time my dad arranged this, I think it was to distract Heather from her melancholy. It was right around thistime of year that our mother had left. I was barely two when she disappeared from our lives, so I don’t remember her. But Heather was five and had formed a connection with the woman who decided a magical small-town life and motherhood weren’t for her. Cornelia Fulmer didn’t completely disappear on us. She’s head of a law firm in Boston, and she responds to texts and calls if we make them.
I don’t. Papa is the only parent I’ve ever needed. The man is creative and loving. Hence the pumpkin-themed tournament he set up for my sister and her best friend.
An event that has become an annual tradition in Folk Haven. Attendance is only open to mythics and mythic mates due to the magic sometimes utilized, and the crowd largely consists of witches and werewolves. When the coven and the pack caught wind of the playful battle years ago, spectators started to show up and cheer for Heather and Manny.
Over the years, I kept score, cheered for my sister, ate delicious fall treats, and tried not to let on how much I longed to join the games.
This year, I get my childhood wish.
But I’m not sure I want it anymore. Especially when competing means being within close proximity to a certain werewolf all weekend.
“Seems we have support for both sides!” My dad grins wide at the crowd. “And I’m glad to announce we have a special treat this year. Because Heather is away on her honeymoon, my equally talented youngest daughter, Blossom, has offered to take her sister’s place and battle the veteran contender and last year’s victor, Manny Ramirez. I present to you your Pumpkin Princess and Pumpkin Prince!”
Goddess save me from theatrical fathers. I silently send the comment to The Dark One as I step forward.
As corny as all this is, I’ve decided I’m going to embrace the festivities as fully as Heather does every year. In that vein, I’m dressed in neon-orange leggings and matching sneakers, paired with a pumpkin-patterned sports bra. Luckily, there’s padding so no one can see how the cool air is making my nipples into icy points.
I spread my arms and accept the wild cheers from the gathered witches. Meanwhile, Manny is dressed in all black, and he grins toward the howling pack members here to support him.
Cocky asshole.I can’t wait to rub a win in his face.
“The first test is one of the mind,” Papa calls out when the crowd settles. “Bring forth the mega gourd!”
Behind my father, I spy a figure moving through the pumpkin patch. The creature looks massive and ungainly, but as they near, I realize it’s only a man carrying a pumpkin.
A very large pumpkin.
“Here you go.” My dad passes me and Manny each a small whiteboard and marker. “Whoever guesses the closest to the pumpkin’s weight, without going over, wins the first round,” he explains loud enough for the gathering to hear.
Suddenly, there’s a roar of noise from the crowd as everyone starts shouting out numbers. None of it is helpful, seeing as how their guesses vary so widely, and I don’t know if the witches are calling out to help me or to hinder Manny.
So, I let the clamoring fade to white noise and study the gigantic vegetable.
This isn’t a new challenge. Dad has twenty or so he cycles through, using a different combo for each year. Some are brainteasers, some are physical, some are both. There also tends to be an artist challenge and maybe a food thing. But we can all count on the fact that every challenge will be fall-themed. The autumn equinox might have been last week, but this is how my family truly welcomes in the new season.
I see now that the pumpkin carrier is Heath, a local bear shifter and co-owner of Coffee & Claws. The bear is a baker and has a contract with Papa for local produce. I wonder if that signed agreement includes a special clause, stating,Must carry very large pumpkin for seasonal festivals.
Admittedly, there aren’t many others in town who could haul that thing around on their own. Dad must have worked some spells on that gourd to get it to grow to the gigantic size.
He puts more and more planning into these games each year.
And that—even more than the urge to defeat Manny—is why I agreed to be Pumpkin Princess.
As much as I’m proud of how I’ve done out in the world on my own, more and more, I realize the extent to which I miss my sister and my father. Being apart for weeks at a time has given me time to remember all the things I love about them both. The way Heather laughs with her whole heart and hugs me like she’ll never let go. The way Papa always makes time for me and smiles as if I bring him nothing but joy.
