Never Race a Runaway Pumpkin (4 page)

Saturday morning the town square was full of people.

Main Street was closed for the Fall Festival. No cars could go there, but people could.

I saw dunking for apples. And carved pumpkins. There was even a scarecrow competition.

But the giant pumpkin was the big attraction.

Somehow those bookstore guys had managed to put it on a big wooden cart. Like a pumpkin wagon.

It sat in the middle of the street at the very top of the hill.

Next to the pumpkin were two giant sacks.

“Look at all that, Hazel,” I said. “Probably one is full of books for the school. And one is full of candy for us!”

But she didn't answer.

She was still sad about No-name, I guess.

She hadn't even eaten her pancakes this morning.

Even though Dad had made them in the shape of an
H
.

A huge crowd had gathered for the pumpkin-winner announcement. We stood behind lots of other people.

I couldn't see much.

Just the top of Dan the bookstore guy's head. And half of the giant pumpkin.

Dan picked up a microphone.

It made a screechy sound.

“Folks,” he said, “Hilltop Bookstore is proud to announce the winner of our Guess the Weight of the Giant Pumpkin Contest!”

“Mom, can I go see the pumpkin close-up?” I asked.

“Sure,” Mom said. “Take Hazel with you.”

Hazel and I made our way to the front of the crowd.

Near Dan's feet, I noticed a cardboard box.

It had holes in it.

Someone had drawn orange and yellow leaves on the sides of the box.

On the front of the box was a sign that said:

 

Please FALL for me!
No-name the kitten
needs a loving home.

 

Uh-oh
, I thought.

“The winner of our contest will win books for their school library,” said Dan. “Enough to fill this giant pumpkin!”

The box moved, just a little.

“Roscoe, what's in that box?” Hazel asked. “It keeps wiggling.”

“Today's winner guessed exactly the right weight,” Dan said.

The box jiggled again.

Hazel yanked on my shirt. “What's that sign on the box say, Roscoe?” she asked.

Dan opened up a piece of paper.

“With the only correct guess of nine hundred sixty-four pounds, the winner is…ROSCOE RILEY!” Dan yelled.

“That's me!” I cried. “I'm Roscoe Riley!”

“Roscoe, come on up here, my friend, and take a bow,” said Dan.

I ran up to Dan. Then I bowed and waved to the crowd.

Dan shook my hand, and a lady from the local newspaper took a picture of me.

Mom and Dad and Max smiled and waved.

Hazel crept closer to the box.

She poked at the top of it.

“Hazel, no!” I whispered.

But it was too late.

The box popped open. No-name leaped out.

She gave a little meow. Then she took a big leap.

Right for my shoelace.

She grabbed my lace with her kitty claws.

I could feel the bad luck pouring over me.

I fell backward. Right into the pumpkin cart.

The giant pumpkin rocked back and forth.

“Mommy! Daddy! It's the kitty!” Hazel yelled.

Slowly the pumpkin rolled off the cart.

It started down the hill. Just like a giant
piece of fruit going for a nice stroll.

“Look out, folks!” Dan yelled. “Runaway pumpkin!” The giant pumpkin was escaping, and it was all my fault.

“Don't worry, Dan!” I cried. “I'll stop it!”

The pumpkin rolled a little faster. Then faster still.

Most people moved out of its way.

But some ran after the pumpkin with me.

Kids, mostly.

It's not all that often you get to chase giant fruit.

I ran my fastest.

No-name ran beside me.

You could tell she thought chase-the-boy-chasing-the-pumpkin was a wonderful new game.

The pumpkin picked up steam, but so did I.

I was behind it!

I was chasing it!

I was ahead of it!

It was chasing ME!

I was almost to the bottom of the hill.

The statue of Thomas Toadswaddle stood just a few feet away.

I didn't want to get between Thomas and 964 pounds of pumpkin.

So I did what any sensible kid would do.

I jumped out of the way.

No-name jumped too.

Right onto my head.

Which I believe is even worse luck than crossing your path.

The giant pumpkin smashed right into
Thomas and his porcupine.

The pumpkin split right in two.

Pumpkin guts were everywhere.

Orange and slimy and full of seeds and pumpkin juice.

It smelled just like Halloween.

No-name jumped off my head.

She circled around me, purring happily.

That kitty crossed my path big-time.

The crowd was running toward us to see if we were okay.

I was. And so was No-name.

The pumpkin not so much.

So that's how I ended up here in time-out.

When Mom and Dad found out I had sort of exaggerated about No-name finding a home, they were not very happy.

They said I should have told them
exactly
what I'd overheard in the bookstore office.

Not
kind of
what I'd heard.

They also said black kitties are absolutely, positively NOT bad luck.

Mom and Dad made me promise to talk to them if I have any more superstitions.

And not to Uncle Ed.

They also made me promise not to chase any more runaway fruit.

Or vegetables.

The bookstore made good use of all the pumpkin guts.

I guess a pumpkin really is a fruit. Because that thing was full of seeds.

Dan roasted the seeds and gave them away to customers.

He made about a googol pumpkin pies too.

And guess what else?

No-name is our kitty now.

Except that she isn't called No-name anymore.

Her name is Bitsy Boo now.

We haven't had any bad luck since we brought her home.

I have to admit I like her swishing tail and her blinking eyes and her fluffy black kitten fur.

But you know what I like best of all?

Hear that sound?

Kind of like the world's tiniest motorcycle?

Time-out goes a lot faster when someone's purring in your lap.

1. Do not ask the bookstore lady to come to your house and read you a bedtime story. She has other plans.

2. There will never be enough books about dinosaurs, pirates, or boogers.

3. First graders are not Young Adults.

4. Say “Store Manager.” Not “Boss of the Books.”

5. If You knock over the giant stack of Harry Potters, be sure to say sorry to the bookstore lady. Then she will say, “That's okay, sweetheart.”

6. If you pop a pop-up book so much that it stops popping, be sure to say you're extra sorry to the bookstore lady. Then she will say, “That's okay.” She will also ask, “Who is keeping an eye on you, sweetheart?”

7. The bookstore manager cannot call your favorite author and ask why it is taking so long for her to write another book.

8. Do not climb the rolling ladder that goes to the tip-top bookshelf. Especially when you are holding a Junie B. Jones in one hand and a Captain Underpants in the other.

9. During story time, do not yell out the ending of a story. The other kids will not exactly appreciate it.

10. There is a rule called Do Not Write in the Book Unless You Are Pretty Sure Your Mom Is Going to Buy It.

Roscoe Riley Rules #1:
Never Glue Your Friends to chairs

If the kids can't sit still for the class performance, Roscoe's teacher could be in big trouble. Fortunately Roscoe has a plan to save her—a super-mega-gonzo plan! What could go wrong?

Roscoe Riley Rules #2:
Never Swipe a Bully's Bear

When Roscoe's stuffed pig goes missing, he
is convinced that Wyatt, the class bully, is responsible. When Roscoe finds out where Wyatt keeps his teddy bear, he decides to give that old bully a taste of his own medicine. That will fix everything. Won't it?

Roscoe Riley Rules #3:
Don't Swap Your Sweater for a Dog

It seems like everyone has an award of some kind. Except Roscoe. But a pet-trick contest is coming up, and first prize is a big, shiny trophy. Roscoe really wants that trophy—would he even borrow someone else's dog to win?

Roscoe Riley Roles #4:
Never Swim in Applesauce

Roscoe wants to be on his best behavior for a class trip to the apple orchard. But
no matter how hard he tries, he still ends up in a very sticky situation!

Roscoe Riley Rules #5:
Don't Tap Dance on Your Teacher

Tap shoes make the best noise ever! But tap-
dancing
? The big boys say that's just for girls. Roscoe promised to tap in the school talent show. When the teasing starts, will he keep his word?

Roscoe Riley Rules #6:
Never Walk in Shoes That Talk

Roscoe's friend Gus wants a pair of cool new shoes. But Gus's parents won't buy them until his old, boring ones are worn out—and that could take forever. Luckily if there's one thing Roscoe is good at, it's destroying things….

Jacket art © 2009 by Brian Biggs