"You know, Newkirk, I really don't think that's going to fit you."
"Very funny. This happens to be for Lizzy."
"Are you planning on making her a whole line of vegetable themed clothes?"
"No. Just the pumpkin."
The pumpkin in question was a small, fuzzy, felted orange outfit; its construction was not because of a fashion whim, though. A few days earlier the planned occupant of said pumpkin costume was sent home from school with a note informing all parents of an upcoming school pageant. This year's theme, it stated, was "Fall Harvest."
"Why is Lizzy the pumpkin?" asked Hogan, watching Newkirk as he finished stitching a green felt leaf on the side of the outfit.
"Dunno. Maybe 'cause she 'as red hair," he answered, not looking up.
"I wonder what the other veggie kids will be. I feel bad for whatever parent is making their kid a broccoli costume right now."
"Then you should feel bad for Mrs. Stephenson," said Newkirk, "Ida's the broccoli."
"Oh. Hey, do they have to say lines or anything?"
"Yeah. I think Lizzy's is something about jack-o-lanterns."
"This pageant is going to be a riot," said Hogan, his attention returning to the newspaper he had originally brought in the living room to read.
"Well, hopefully not literally," he amended after a few moments.
x
x
x
Hogan hadn't really kept tabs on the progression of Lizzy's pumpkin costume, but he was sure Newkirk was doing an admirable job with it. He did know that the other day Mrs. Stephenson had come over to borrow some green thread.
Apparently she was not having a very easy time outfitting Ida with a broccoli costume. He had even heard a rumor that she had tried to get Mrs. Belknap-Jackson from two blocks away to switch roles; her son was going to be the squash, but Hogan really didn't have the necessary intelligence to verify that fact.
He knew that the kids' pageant was getting closer when he saw what appeared to be a half-dressed carrot run down the street while he was on patrol the other evening. The carrot was being chased by a very irate looking woman that appeared to be Mrs. VanSicklen from four houses down, confirming his suspicion that the carrot was indeed little Joey VanSicklen.
The night before the pageant, he got to see Lizzy in her completed pumpkin costume. He had to admit that she looked extremely cute in it. It had a little collar of fuzzy green leaves, and a little orange cap with a few felt leaves and vines sewn on that sat on top of her red curls very nicely.
"Do you remember what you have to say, Lizzy?" he asked her.
"I'm a pumpkin. I grow on a vine. At Halloween people make me into jack-o-lanterns," said Lizzy obediently.
"Sounds good to me," said Hogan, not really sure if that was her line or not.
"That's it, alright," said Newkirk, getting up to take the outfit off. "I could probably say it in me sleep at this point."
"You have to admit; it's a very poignant statement. Whoever wrote the script for this is an unknown genius."
x
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x
The night of the pageant had arrived at last.
Hogan really had no idea what to expect - one of the frazzled looking parents had handed him a program when he walked into the school's quaint auditorium, but he has been too interested observing the crowd around him to look at the pamphlet.
He noticed a very worn out looking Mrs. Stephenson in the front row, so he made his way over and sat down next to her.
"Evening, Mrs. Stephenson," he greeted, sitting down in the nearest vacant seat.
"Oh, good evening. I take it Lizzy is backstage with her father?"
"Yeah. He somehow got roped into being the stage manager at the last minute. Where's Mr. Stephenson?"
"Backstage. He's helping some of the kids fix their costumes. Especially Ida's. That broccoli costume is an absolute nightmare!" said Mrs. Stephenson, a sudden vehement hatred for that particular vegetable cropping up.
Before Hogan could respond, the lights dimmed a bit and a small, bespectacled woman walked out on the stage.
"Good evening, everyone," said the woman, once the audience had quieted down.
"I'm Miss Mina Wilson, and I am proud to have the opportunity to show what your children have been working so hard on. We here at Huntingburg Elementary School would also like to extend our gratitude to all the parents who came out to support the 1947 Preschool Class."
"We appreciate all the hard work that went into the making of all the lovely costumes you will see tonight as well," Miss Wilson continued.
"They'd better," Hogan heard Mrs. Stephenson say under her breath.
"So without further ado, let's begin our pageant."
With that, Miss Wilson exited the stage.
Back when the pageant was still in the vegetable costume planning stage, Hogan recalled thinking that it would be pretty funny to see all the neighborhood four-year-olds dressed like produce. However, as the first kid came out, he realized that he was wrong; this wasn't funny.
This was absolutely hilarious.
He recognized the first kid right away. It was Walter Belknap-Jackson, who had received the coveted role of the squash.
As Squash Walter made his way over to his spot on the stage, Hogan had to bite his tongue to keep himself from laughing at the costume on this poor kid. Obviously, Mrs. Belknap-Jackson was not the most talented seamstress in the land, and the outfit appeared to be a hodgepodge of different yellow fabrics. If he didn't know that this was supposed to be a play about vegetables, he would have mistaken little Walter for a banana slug.
"...I am a squashed," began Walter, rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet. "I am a good source of….of….um…."
"Vitamin A and C!" he heard someone whisper from behind the curtain.
"Vitamin A and P!" finished Walter, looking very proud of himself.
The next kid out was Ida Stephenson, whose broccoli costume looked pretty nice, but lost various parts as she walked across the stage to stand next to Walter.
"I'm broccoli," she stated, looking a bit shell-shocked at the amount of people watching her.
Though she didn't inform them of any interesting broccoli facts, Hogan did learn that this particular vegetable did not have very good public speaking skills and was prone to running off stages, leaving various parts of itself behind.
He saw Mrs. Stephenson rubbing her temples out of the corner of his eye.
Joey VanSicklen, the runaway carrot, did somewhat better, actually staying on the stage for his entire line, although Hogan thought that the phrase "tastes gross" might have been ad-libbed.
The next player was a tomato that Hogan recognized as little Maggie Crosby. Her face was as red as her costume, and it appeared as though it had taken some serious wrangling to get her to stop crying and go out on the stage.
"I'm tomato," she whined. "I grow in all 48 states and most gardens."
When he saw Lizzy come out next, he didn't have the highest of hopes. He did have to admit that, so far, her costume was the nicest. She was the cutest, too, of course.
"I'm a pumpkin. I grow on a vine. At Halloween people make me into jack-o-lanterns," she stated with one of her sweet smiles.
He was impressed. She was calm for the entire rest of the play, even when the turnip (played by little Mary Wells) and the beet (a very disgruntled looking Tommy Petersen) got into a fight over whose turn it was to go out on stage.
Pumpkins were his new favorite vegetable.
x
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x
He ended up driving home, both Lizzy and Newkirk being worn out from the excitement of the evening. She ended up dozing off in the backseat, still attired in her pumpkin costume. In the front seat, Newkirk looked like he was about to follow suit.
"That went well," Hogan ventured to say.
"Ugh. You weren't back there tryin' to corral ten unruly vegetables for an hour. Blimey, those kids can be fast."
"Did Ida Stephenson calm down?"
"Yeah, as soon as we took off the broccoli suit."
Hogan chuckled, but was silent for most of the car ride home.
"Hey, Newkirk?"
"Yeah?"
"Wanna hear a vegetable joke?"
"...What?"
"Nevermind; it's too corny."