Whose Garden Grows at Midnight
mysteryEveryoneI write down everything at Marrow Lane. Rain. Whose here. Which plots are thriving. Every morning same routine. But this morning something feels OFF and I can't look away from it. It takes me maybe ten seconds to see what my brain already knows is wrong. And then it hits me. The pumpkin. Mr. Okafor's pumpkin. It's not where he left it.
There it is. Three plots over. Sitting in Mrs. Pratt's strawberry bed like it belongs there. Shiny with dew. Still huge. Still alive. But it wasn't here yesterday. It was in Mr. Okafor's plot, right where he'd been nursing it all summer.
What happens next?
2 ways forwardI measure it out with my steps. Thirty-seven paces. Too far. It didn't roll. Someone carried it. Someone strong carried Mr. Okafor's prize pumpkin across the entire allotment in the dark.