Sweet Giuseppe//October 19th, 2021

 On October third, I stumbled across a very small pumpkin at work. 

He was the type of pumpkin my mother would have encouraged me to choose when I was little, or so it seemed at first. My mother always thought anything that would eventually rot away was a waste of money, so my eagerness to purchase pumpkins was not her favorite aspect of my personality. She would point me toward the smaller, and thus less expensive ones. I distinctly remember finding one so tiny at a local farm one year, that the woman running the cash register went and got her manager and asked, “This is considered a pumpkin, right? Not a gourd?” (The really teeny pumpkins, most commonly called Jack Be Little nowadays, were generally referred to as gourds back then, at least around here, perhaps because they were in the same price range as the decorative gourds.) I can still hear her voice, perfectly, in my mind. 

When I saw this little pumpkin at work, I was immediately transported back to that day, and the memory of a pumpkin so small, that the farm worker, who I probably envied for being a pumpkin expert at the time, didn’t know how to categorize it. And, with the same energy of the cast of Sex & The City when they saw a designer shoe, I decided I had to have it.

I walked closer to the little pumpkin and picked him up. He looked perfect...until I noticed a slightly squishy blemish near his bottom. I put him down, but with my hand still on him. This was always a dilemma of mine in childhood. My mother was so concerned with how much money was being spent on pumpkins that she discouraged ever choosing one with even the slightest hint that it could start rotting sooner rather than later. Sometimes even the healthiest looking pumpkins can rot before their time, but you don’t go looking for one that’s already almost there, or so I was taught. 

What to do with this little pumpkin? He was so perfect, so charming, yet seemed almost condemned to an early rot, and definitely destined to miss Halloween. But these factors just made me want him more. If I left him, would he be thrown out that night if he didn’t sell? Surely almost every other customer would notice that mark and pass him by, but even if one didn’t, would he be looked after properly, or just left out in the elements, to rot away even faster? I looked at this sweet pumpkin and I just couldn’t let that happen. Even if he only lasted the shortest while, I could offer him the chance to live out his days where he’d be loved and appreciated, and among other pumpkin friends. 

And so I bought him.

With most of my work shift left to go, he became my companion for the day, sitting with me on my break, accompanying me at the desk, sitting in my locker, etc. and I became attached to him in a way that I’ve always tried not to do with real pumpkins, as we never know how much time they have, and this little one’s time already seemed to running out.

Throughout the day, for some odd reason, the name “Giuseppe” kept coming up in conversation. I have no real recollection of why, but it was such a distinct, unusual name to hear repeatedly in a day, at least for me, so I decided, Giuseppe must be this pumpkin’s name. It had been so long since I’d truly named a real pumpkin...even the one that’s now over a year old was never really given a proper name. I felt so bonded to this little pumpkin, in a way that I couldn’t explain.

Once Giuseppe was home, I kept him close as much as I could, as he was a comforting presence, and also, to monitor him. His rot was progressing quickly, and I knew he wouldn’t have long.

Within a few days, I noticed that Giuseppe was really starting to develop his rotten pumpkin eye. 

It was born out of the initial hole I found in him, just as I suspected. But the interesting thing about Giuseppe was, he seemed to have more than one eye!

Giuseppe was watching over me, observing, from so many different angles. It may sound silly, but it made me feel as if he knew somehow that he was in the right place, and wanted to take in everything that he could before it was too late. Maybe he wouldn’t make it to Halloween, but he would enjoy his time with us immensely. Celebrate, and be celebrated, as any pumpkin should this time of year.

Sadly, on October eleventh, I checked on Giuseppe, who was sitting among my larger real pumpkins of the year, to find he had rotted past the point of being able to stay inside any longer. Parts of him were almost liquid at that point. I sadly carried him outside and placed him among the leaves and grass, and thanked him for being a special part of my 2021 Halloween season, no matter how short-lived it was. I will truly never forget him.

I’m not sure what it is about this one particular little pumpkin, but I’m glad I got the opportunity to know him. And I know, from the eyes, that he’ll be watching over me, and maybe help me to find another like him next year. 

Stay spooky, my friends. And remember to hug your pumpkins.