“Dad! Come look at this one!” Charlie grabbed his arm and pulled him through the field.

“Charlie, slow down,” Sara called and Jack looked over his shoulder and shrugged helplessly as his son picked up speed despite the warning from his mother.

“Hey kiddo, Mom’s right. It’s not going anywhere you know.”

“Someone might get it before us! Wait ‘til you see it!” Charlie dodged around a family of five that had staked out a rather impressive specimen of their own and pointed toward the far side of the patch. “Over there! Hurry up, Dad!”

Jack squinted in the fading light as he tried to spot the source of his son’s excitement. A vine neatly entangled one foot and he nearly went down.

“Charlie, your mom is never gonna forgive us if we break our necks out here.” Charlie reluctantly slowed long enough for him to regain his footing and resumed their headlong flight as soon as Jack began moving forward again. “I thought you wanted to go on the hay ride and try out the corn maze.”

“I do! But I gotta show you this first. It’s right over here!” Charlie pulled him to the right, hopped across a few small orange blobs and suddenly stopped. “Look at it,” Charlie said, his young voice filled with an awe usually reserved for the latest video game.

Jack looked and could not stop the flutter of excitement that raced through him. He gave a long low whistle in admiration of the orange behemoth in front of him.

“Charlie, that’s-”

“A honkin’ huge pumpkin! Isn’t it the coolest?”

At that moment Jack O’Neill knew two things – One, he had to get Charlie that pumpkin and, two, he was so gonna owe Sara for this one.

“It’s even the perfect shape,” Charlie crowed. “I’ve been working on my Dad-o-lantern face all week. Mom thinks it’s too scary but I think you’ll like this one!” Charlie dropped to his knees by the pumpkin and tried to wrap his arms around it. They barely made it halfway around the thing. “Hey, Dad, how are we gonna get it home? Can you lift it?”

“I think we are going to need some help.”

“I think you are both out of your minds.” Jack turned to find Sara standing behind them. Her arms were crossed and she was shaking her head. “Jack, you can’t be serious.”

“Mom, please! You said I could pick this year!

“I know we did, Charlie, but honestly…”

“Think of all the pumpkin pie you can make,” Jack suggested.

“We couldn’t eat that much pumpkin pie in a year!”

“I don’t know, Mom. You know how much Dad loves pie.”

“You know perfectly well that I buy the pumpkin for the pies after Halloween anyway. Would you really want a pie made from a pumpkin that’s been sitting on the front porch with candles stuck inside it for a week?”

“Come on, Sara. Look at it! How often do you get a chance at a pumpkin like that?”

“Yeah, Mom. It really IS the great pumpkin!”

Sara stared at the pumpkin for a long moment and then her gaze traveled from pumpkin, to son, to husband and she sighed.

“I knew I was in trouble when you talked me into driving all the way to Boulder just to visit a pick-your-own-pumpkin patch.”

“Woohoo!” Charlie shouted.

“Charlie, go find the man and tell him we found one and that we are going to need some help getting it back to the truck.”

“Yes, sir!”

“Walk! Don’t run!” Jack added. His son nodded and took off across the field at a somewhat reasonable pace.

“You’re not carving that thing in the living room this year,” Sara said firmly.

“You say that every year,” Jack teased.

“This time I mean it.”

“But it’s an O’Neill tradition!”

“Jack!”

“You know you love it.”

“No amount of newspaper in the world is going to keep my floor clean when you two start digging into that thing.”

“Charlie’s been looking forward to this all week long. The show comes on tomorrow night.”

“That round-headed kid is never going to kick that football you know.”

“But he keeps trying, doesn’t he?”

“Beagles can’t really be World War II flying aces,” she added, smiling.

“You gotta admire his style though.”

“You’d like anyone who liked to fly. Look at you… a grown man who obsesses over a kid’s cartoon.”

“It’s Charlie’s favorite holiday special!”

“Gee, I wonder how that happened.” Sara knelt down by the pumpkin and shook her head. “You’ve really done it this time, Jack. I can’t believe we’re getting this one.”

“You should have seen his face, Sara.”

Sara looked up at him and was silent for a long moment. Finally, she nodded.

“I knew the moment he dragged you off that he’d found one,” she said. “But I had no idea…”

“I couldn’t tell him no,” Jack admitted. “Not even if it means I get nothing but rocks as my Halloween treat.”

Sara laughed.

“You better keep your promise about not making a total mess of my living room or you’ll be lucky to get even a rock!”

“What, no pie?”

“No pie should be the least of your worries, Jack.”

* * * * *

“We’re back!” Jack called out as he made his way through the living room and toward the kitchen. Jack inhaled deeply, enjoying the aroma baking cookies. He entered the kitchen just as Sara slid a fresh tray into the oven. She closed the oven door and turned to face him.

“Where’s Charlie?”

“Bringing the bags,” Jack said, snatching a cookie from the cooling rack. The still hot chocolate chips nearly burned his fingertips and he juggled the cookie from hand to hand blowing on it to cool it off.

“Those are hot,” Sara scolded.

“I hadn’t noticed,” Jack replied, still blowing frantically.

Sara pulled a paper towel from the roll on the counter and handed it to him. Jack wrapped the cookie in the paper towel, happy to give his abused fingers a break.

“Mrs. Muir called.”

“Ethan’s mom?”

Sara nodded. “She wanted to invite Charlie to the big fall carnival at their church.”

“Charlie would like that. They have rides and everything. I saw them setting it up a few days ago.” Jack said, giving his cookie an experimental tap with his finger before deciding it was cool enough and taking a bite. “When are they going?” Jack asked around a mouthful of still gooey chocolate chip cookie.

“Tonight.”

Jack stopped chewing and swallowed quickly. “Tonight?”

“It’s the last night,” Sara explained.

“I thought the carnival lasted through Halloween.”

“Apparently not.”

“What did you tell her?”

“That I’d ask Charlie about it and that if he wants to go it is fine with us.”

“It’s Great Pumpkin night!”

“Jack…”

“What?”

“You know what,” Sara said, frowning. “He’s old enough to want to spend time with his friends. After all, it’s not as if he’s never seen it before. If he wants to go, you two can carve the pumpkin tomorrow night.”

“I’m not ready for him to grow up,” Jack argued.

“It’s going to happen whether we are ready or not.”

“Does it have to start on Great Pumpkin night?”

The front door slammed shut.

“Jack, let him decide,” Sara said.

He nodded and shoved the rest of the cookie in his mouth.

Charlie appeared in the doorway; both arms loaded down with sagging plastic grocery bags.

“How much candy did you two buy?” Sara demanded.

“It’s for the trick-or-treaters,” Jack said.

“Sure it is,” she responded. “Are you expecting the entire city of Colorado Springs to drop by?”

“We got your favorites too, Mom,” Charlie explained. “Kit Kats and Reese’s Cups!” He began to dump the contents of the bags out onto the table – bite-sized and fun-sized versions of Snickers, Hershey bars, candied corn, three bags of bubble gum, M&M’s (plain and peanut), gummy bears, and a variety of Halloween themed treats (chocolate skulls, eyeballs, fingers, toes, and even ears) spilled out in their safely individual pre-wrapped tamper-proof packages.

“His orthodontist will thank you,” Sara complained.

“You’re just thinking of all the extra time you’ll be spending in the gym,” Jack teased.

“Charlie, Ethan’s mom called while you were gone.”

“She did?”

Jack snatched another cookie – this one thankfully simply warm to the touch rather than piping hot and headed for the door. “I’m going to go get the big buckets out of the shed,” he said.

“Okay, Dad. Can I start opening the bags now so we can mix everything up?”

“Sure, Charlie. I’ll be right back.”

Jack eased out of the kitchen, munching his cookie, happy to escape having to listen to his son ditch a night with his old man, the Peanuts gang, and the best pumpkin he had ever seen in his life in favor of a night of thrill rides and overpriced junk food.

He knew Sara was right. Charlie was old enough to start making some of his own decisions and watching cartoons with your dad probably wasn’t the coolest thing in the world to be doing. So what if it was something they did together every single year?

Jack stepped outside and shivered slightly in the chill air. The bed sheet ghost Charlie had hung in the big oak tree was spinning slowly in the breeze Spook the plastic skeleton swayed back and forth as well. Jack noticed one of the cardboard gravestones had fallen over. He crossed the yard and picked it up. R.I.P. in Charlie’s careful block lettering adored the face. Jack pushed the stake back into the ground; making sure was standing up straight before heading to the shed.

It didn’t take him long to wrestle the buckets down from the utility shelf — two to hold the sugar horde and two more to hold pumpkin guts while they carved the pumpkin. Even if it they weren’t going to be carving tonight, Jack figured he might as well get all the buckets down.

Jack dumped each five-gallon bucket over in turn and banged on the bottoms. Plastic spiders might add ambience to a bucket of Halloween candy but real ones would be another thing entirely. Satisfied that no creepy crawlies had taken up residence in the buckets, he grabbed them up by the handles and nudged the shed door closed with his hip.

It was time go put on a happy face for his son.

He entered the house quietly, left two buckets by the door, and walked slowly toward the kitchen. He heard Charlie’s voice first.

“I’ll call him, Mom.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped.

“Are you sure, Charlie?”

“Yeah, it’s no big deal. There will be other carnivals. Besides, I know Cody would like to go. Ethan’s mom wouldn’t take all three of us anyway. She says two always get along but three will end up fighting.”

Jack realized he was standing outside the kitchen door with a huge grin on his face.

“Charlie, you know your dad will understand if you’d like to go with Ethan, We talked about it.”

Jack nearly groaned aloud. She was gonna blow it!

“Mom, it’s Great Pumpkin night,” Charlie answered, as if that settled everything.

Jack began breathing again. This year, at least, his son was still happy to spend time with him. So what if Charlie might change his mind next year? Jack would take whatever time with his son he could get. He tried to put a neutral expression on his face and pushed open the kitchen door.

“I got the buckets,” he announced, maybe just a little too loudly.

“Hey, Dad. Help me mix all this up.” The candy pile rose like a mountain in the middle of the kitchen table and empty bags littered the floor. Charlie scooped his hands into the middle and began turning over the treats to mix up the various offerings.

Jack pulled out a chair and sat down beside his son. He plunged his hands into the pile of sweets and began turning them over. “Have you started taste-testing yet?” Jack asked.

“Mom said no.”

“I said if you two start eating that candy you could forget about me making dinner tonight.” She looked at Jack. “And no more cookies either. Save the sweets for pumpkin carving tonight.”

“Oh? I thought Charlie was going to the carnival.” It didn’t come off nearly as nonchalantly as he’d hoped. Sara was giving him that look – the one that said she knew he was full of crap.

“Nah,” Charlie said. “I’d rather carve the pumpkin and watch Charlie Brown with you. It’s an O’Neill tradition!”

Jack smiled. He liked the sound of that.

“Yeah, sure, ya betcha.”