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Leaves in hues of golden brown crunched underneath Antigone’s soles as she milled around Chapman’s pumpkin patch, eyes searching for the perfect gourds for her to carve. The knitted tassels of a red scarf belonging to Marlene brushed the ground as she bent down to pick up a fairly wide pumpkin with a flatter side to it. Her careful search was halfway over as she set down the pumpkin next to the two pumpkins Marlene had chosen in the wooden wagon Eric had provided for those who wanted more than one pumpkin.
Their plan was quite simple, two pumpkins for Marlene’s caravan, and two for Funn Funerals.
The ringmistress returned to her after pacing the rows of pumpkins, absently kicking a very small gourd along the way.
“Have you found yours?” She asked, picking off a leaf that had stuck to the scarf.
“Almost…” Antigone surveyed the patch for a smaller pumpkin. “I’d like to find a small one.”
Sighing as she sat down on a pumpkin the size of a small boulder, Marlene took a breath of the crisp autumn air. She was growing quite impatient with her creepy girl’s meticulous search, but it was not as though she had anything better to do that day, her circus was building up for a grand Halloween show and she wanted nothing more than to build anticipation by having her performers train exhaustively for the upcoming event.
As she lit a cigarette, a small, perfectly round pumpkin hidden behind the one she sat upon caught her eye.
“Creepy girl,” Picking it up, she looked around, not finding her anywhere.
Without warning, Antigone materialized behind her. “Yes?”
At this point she was used to her disappearing and reappearing out of nowhere as if she were one of her talented magicians, and so she wrapped her arm around her shoulder and held the pumpkin up.
“How is this?”
Antigone took the pumpkin, turning it over in her hands. It did not feel very heavy which indicated to her that it didn’t have many seeds, it may have a weak exterior. She rapped her knuckles against it. It seemed sturdy enough. “This will have to do.”
Chapman had been kind enough to allow the village to pick at his pumpkin patch free of charge, which to the Funns simply read as a ploy for more sympathy points.
Rudyard seemed to have taken great advantage of his charity however, as he and Georgie trudged past with two wagons piled high with pumpkins.
“Rudyard, what are you doing?” She whined, pinching the bridge of her nose. She could not even fathom what harebrained scheme he was trying to pull now.
“Now look here, Antigone” He turned swiftly on his heels to face his sister. “Halloween is the perfect time to bring about people’s acknowledgment of their inevitable death. What better time than now to advertise for a funeral?”
“That is an absolute insult to our entire craft!” She stomped her foot down.
Georgie chimed in. “But didn’t Halloween come from people wearing costumes to ward off ghosts?”
“Ghosts are not real.”
“They could be.”
“But they aren’t.” She threw her hands up. “What are you planning, Rudyard?”
“I am going to carve advertisements for Funn Funerals into these pumpkins and set them all on the front step of everyone in the village!”
“Yes...that is certainly a terrifying thing to find on your front step.”
“Precisely.” Rudyard smirked, then he thought about it. “Wait-”
"That is actually very clever." Marlene admitted.
Antigone twisted her head around, aghast. "I beg your pardon?"
"Advertising is an essential part to promoting one's business," Marlene said, pointing her cigarette at Rudyard. "The more unique the advertisement, the more likely a consumer will remember it, and that in itself impacts the economic process for that business."
Georgie raised her eyebrows, impressed with the sudden academia. "Bloody hell,"
"I forgot you have a degree in macroeconomics..." Antigone muttered.
Rudyard smiled as if he had thought of that at all. "Thank you, Marlene!"
"You hate gimmicks, Rudyard."
"I trust someone with a macroeconomics degree before I trust something I may or may not have said in the past.” He said quickly, marching his way down the cobblestone. “Come along Georgie!"
Georgie grunted as she pulled the wagon with all her strength, waving weakly at Antigone and Marlene as she trudged to Funn Funerals.
The two of them were about to be on their way back to Marlene’s caravan, when Eric approached them bundled in a too-bright white cable knit jumper.
Now, it was Marlene’s turn to spout a disgruntled “Chapman.”
“Good afternoon to you too, Marlene.” He said, smiling as amicably as he could. “I see you’ve settled well with the Funns.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” She demanded with a knitted brow.
“What do you want, Chapman?”
"I'm holding a pumpkin carving competition tomorrow! You and Marlene could-"
The ringmistress interrupted. “No.”
“Absolutely not.”
“Rudyard and Georgie signed up!”
“What do you want us to do about that?”
He slumped his shoulders, letting out a breath visible in the frigid air. "Antigone, please. I beg of you, don't let me deal with your brother and Georgie by myself."
"Keep begging, Chapman." She lifted her head, turning away.
Marlene shot him a snarky grin before wrapping her arm around Antigone’s waist as they walked away, pumpkin wagon trailing behind them.
The crooked cobblestone stretched out before them as they walked their way to Marlene’s caravan. The red chipped paint and lights strung around the caravan was such an inviting presence, a solace in her otherwise frustrating life.
The ringmistress had vanished into her caravan for a moment, returning with a carving set, marker, and bowl. She set everything down next to Antigone while she sat on the creaking wooden steps and returned once again inside.
“I will be back.” Was all Marlene said.
With all her might, Antigone stabbed the top of the pumpkin, sawing a jagged circle. Setting aside the stem, she began to scoop out the entrails, slopping them into the bowl. What their plan was to do with them was beyond her knowledge, but she knew whatever it may be it would be more time spent with Marlene, and that was all the better.
Rough black lines covered the pumpkin as Antigone began to sketch out her idea. Windows of spider webs encompassed by intricate arguably baroque details.
Antigone had been expecting to be sad this autumn. Before, part of her died each year when the leaves fell from the trees and their branches were bare against the wind and desaturated sky. But here now, curled up next to Marlene with hot cocoa, nestled in her scarf, the ice around her heart melted.
The ringmistress herself had not really spent any time carving pumpkins or the like. No, she usually busied herself with show preparation, distractions to keep herself from being alone. Her creepy girl’s desire to catch up on the amusement and joy she had missed throughout her life brought out a ebullient demeanor in the ringmistress; so much so it often scared the performers, who thought she had been replaced with some sort of imposter, one that is at the very least slightly nicer. No one really understood how the most bizarre woman on Piffling could make the ringmistress so happy, but who were they to question how the universe worked.
Antigone began to carve into the pumpkin with the same steady and careful movements as if she were making an incision on a body. In her focus, she left her hot chocolate untouched as Marlene started to sketch her idea around the pumpkin. A miniature carousel, complete with smaller decorative details around the top of each window that contained an articulated horse silhouette.
She paused to drink, finishing her cup rather quickly. Picking up her creepy girl’s forgotten one, she kissed her temple before standing up to reheat it. In her caravan, she put the hot chocolate back in a small copper pot that had a pouring spout.
Materials that belonged to Antigone had started to slowly accumulate in her living space. Since restarting her novel collection, a few were strewn around. There was a trochar sitting on her windowsill for reasons she could not remember.
Three small jars of butterfly wings sat in a row on the antique crimson vanity, her favorite things Antigone had given her.
She poured the chocolate into the mug once more.
Antigone broke her focus, taking the cup from Marlene. She sipped the sickly sweet chocolate. For some moments she wraps her hands around the ceramic mug, letting the warmth flow through her fingers, banishing the chill.
They had not noticed how the time had passed so quickly as they finished their jack o’lanterns, perfectly happy in each other’s presence. It was a comfortable silence, simply working side by side was enough. Periodically their hands brushed over one another as they reached for the same tool, and Antigone shied away the same way she always did. No matter how long it had been, Marlene’s warmth and charming smile would always bring red to her cheeks. She blamed the cold, pulling the scarf over her nose.
The sun sank past the horizon as they placed candles in their creations, setting them on the steps. The glowing gold made Marlene’s caravan feel a bit more loved, just a bit more lived in.
Antigone could not help but feel a strange lump in her stomach as she thought about what her brother might be up to, or what chaotic disarray she would find her house in once she returned.
Marlene had become quite familiar with that unsettled expression. “You must go check on him, don’t you?”
“I’m sorry, Marlene, it’s just-”
“I understand your strange little family comes first.”
Antigone’s face fell, her words implied she didn’t see herself as part of them. She fit right in, she herself was a bit strange, a bit eccentric and dramatic. Her and Georgie were certainly on par with one another on how angry they could be lest anyone insult the Funn name, and certainly the most important component - she hated Chapman, probably more than any of them did.
A terribly strong scent of pumpkin saturated Funn Funerals as the two women entered. Pumpkin carved letters scattered about the decaying floorboards, they followed a trail of discarded Ns to find Rudyard hacking away at a pumpkin with a pair of craft scissors.
Georgie sat hunched over with one of Antigone’s scalpels, carving a tiny jack o’lantern for Madeleine.
The ringmistress took a seat at the kitchen table while Antigone picked up one of the advertising gourds only to discover her brother’s idiotic mistake. She picked up a kitchen knife and began to cut open the top, she always had to be the one to fix her brother’s mistakes.
“You were supposed to remove the seeds first.”
“Now look here, Antigone. Removing the innards of things is your job.”
"Rudyard.” She shot him a glare. “I am holding a knife."
"Right you are!" He said, going back to his jagged stabbings. Soon enough, with an unwarranted satisfied smile he turned the pumpkin around to show it off and declared. “Done!”
“What is that supposed to be?” Marlene asked, squinting at the patternless carvings.
“The scariest thing imaginable.” He said. “Chapman.”
The three looked at each other, expressions varying levels of bewilderment.
“Chapman-!” He growled again, this time for good reason. The damnable man was in their house.
“Evening all!” If looks could kill, Eric Chapman would be dead on the floor with the way the four of them glared at him. Even so, he continued to smile, maybe eventually he’d be able to brighten up their lives. “My pumpkin patch has been cleared out-”
“And what do you want us to do about that?” Marlene demanded.
“I never got a pumpkin for myself to carve for the front of Chapman’s-”
“You can’t have ours, Chapman!” Rudyard shouted.
“Well, I think it’s only fair I get at least one pumpkin for myself considering you lot took half of them.”
“They took half of them!” Antigone interjected. “Marlene and I took four, which is only fair-”
“I didn’t mean you two-”
“Then you should have said that then!”
“I-” He took a deep breath. “Can I please carve one jack o’ lantern with you?”
The earnesty in his voice was insufferable.
“Sure, Eric.” Georgie said, getting up from the counter to hand him a small pumpkin that had already been partially carved. “Here ya go.”
It was the first one Rudyard carved, he had been much too eager and had carved out two letters much too large before realizing his advertisement would not fit. Eric turned the pumpkin over and was met with a big “FU.”
“Oh.”