|Autumn-in-madeira jacek yerka|
April stared through the windshield at the patchwork wall in disbelief. The light was faintly orange.
"We really shouldn't have tried driving home." she mumbled shakily. "That last cup of hot mulled wine did me in. I'm really dizzy." April wiped the sweat off her forehead. "How did we get up here?"
"I followed your directions like an idiot." he replied angrily. "Why did I turn left even though I could see this is a giant, fucking pumpkin! What kind of dolts drive up a pumpkin?"
"Plastered idiots. That's who." she replied. "God, it wouldn't be quite so bad if we didn't have these costumes on." She wiggled in her seat and pulled at her crotch, uncomfortable in the too-short tights. "We're toast if someone around here calls the police. Like the people that own this patch. A couple of senior citizens dressed as Batman and Robin and half crocked to boot? Goodbye drivers license! I told you we should have dressed as the Nixons like always."
David collected himself and started the engine. "Oh stop horribilizing it all. I'll try backing up - maybe we'll get a little traction going in reverse." He pulled the cape away from his shoulders and started inching the car downhill when the back end sunk into the pumpkin goo right up to the axle. He gunned the engines and the car sunk a little deeper. The air smelled like pumpkin pie and she got even dizzier dangling as they were at a precipitous angle. The next thing she heard were the familiar sirens heading their way; she struggled to get her black wig and columbine off.
David, sweating under his mask, turned to her with a know-it-all smirk and barked, "April, take off your make-up." What? Or was he saying, "April, Wake up! Wake up!" Ever so cautiously, she opened one eye and saw the patchwork quilt bedspread under her pounding head. And in the thin morning light, she could just make out the big pumpkin perched near the front door where they'd set it up last night. Were those tire tracks across the front?