The Curse of the Gold Peanut
Set in Dothan, AL ("The Peanut Capitol of the World")
In 1993, the statue called The Gold Peanut was erected on Ross Clark Circle (aka “the Circle”) in Dothan, Alabama. Legend has it that before the Gold Peanut, something else rested there…
IT WAS A dark and stormy night. Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration; it was actually a sunny afternoon in late October. The senior class of the two local high schools, Northview and Dothan High, agreed to meet at Landmark Park and discuss this year’s Senior Prank. This unprecedented meeting had been organized under the pretense of an innocent Senior Class picnic.
Every year, the new senior class tries gain fame by outdoing the previous year’s senior prank. This particular year, one of the students, whose name was Ryan, had perhaps the most daring and dangerous idea for a prank; he even convinced the two schools to join forces to carry it out. It would be crazy, it would be illegal, but it would also most certainly be great. And so when the two groups of seniors had settled to eat their picnic lunch, Ryan stood before the gathering of twenty or so students and let them fall silent before he told them his bold plan.
“This year, for our prank, we’re going to steal the Gold Peanut,” he announced, his voice both ominous and proud. The Gold Peanut is a statue at the city’s commerce center donated in honor of Dothan’s fame as the “peanut capitol of the world” and its annual Peanut Festival.
An uproar ran through the small crowd. There were shouted objections and hollers of endorsement; the joint class of seniors was in fervor over this idea. He let them calm down, and explained his plan.
“We can make a duplicate out of paper-Mache or something and paint it gold, and then put it in place of the original! We’ll take the original somewhere safe, take pictures and make it seem like a ransom. Then, on the day before the National Peanut Festival ends, we’ll put it back, unharmed, and claim it was a hoax. No harm, no foul, but we’ll definitely be remembered forever!”
Silence hung in the air; if done right it seemed like a reasonably harmless prank, though dangerous as it was. Finally, one of the more reckless group of guys stood up and started to applaud enthusiastically. Within moments, a majority of the seniors were standing and applauding, with only a few sitting in stunned silence and not endorsing this plan. Despite those who remained seated, exchanging nervous glances, there was definitely an electric vibe in the air. This was going to be a very unique Senior Prank, indeed.
The class selected a team, led by Ryan, who would design and construct the fake, and then carry out the switch. With only a week to go before the Peanut Festival was to begin, the heist team met up the next day and began to build the duplicate, hiding it in an abandoned warehouse that stood not far from Dothan High. In just a couple of days, their pretended Gold Peanut came together and was soon ready for the exchange. They moved on with planning the actual replacement.
A few days later, just after midnight of October thirtieth, the heist team met at the warehouse. After having gathered the tools and loading the Fake Gold Peanut into the truck bed, which was fitted with a hoist for the much-heavier Real Gold Peanut, the five seniors waited at the warehouse until their selected time. At two a.m., they drove carefully to the Visitor Information Center, where the Real Gold Peanut stood. They knew they had to work swiftly to avoid being noticed by any police driving around The Circle. Having practiced several times at the warehouse, they moved briskly in the cool autumn air, with the light of a full moon shining down on them. There was an air tense with adrenaline and exhilaration as they worked, trying not to be distracted by the danger of getting caught. At least twice they paused momentarily when they thought that someone had seen them and was coming to check things out.
It took them not more than eight minutes to sever the base from the Peanut, and they hoisted it from the marble and guided the statue into the truck bed. Placing the Fake Gold Peanut on the iron tripod support extending from the marble, they fastened it to the golden studs with special gold-painted flange clips. Checking it for sturdiness and finding it satisfactory, they scrambled onto the truck and tore out of the parking lot, headed towards Westgate Park as they had planned. Whooping and cheering loudly now in unrestrained jubilance, they patted each other on the back in their successful heist. Before long, they were back inside the abandoned warehouse, with the Real Gold Peanut stowed safely and carefully in a corner and covered in a tarp. Tomorrow, they would come back and start taking pictures as part of the next stage of the Prank. Ryan congratulated the team on their good work and recommended everyone head home to get ready for school the next day.
It was almost four in the morning when they walked outside to their own vehicles, but it was no longer a moonlit night. One guy looked up and noticed that the clear sky was now full of dark, low thundering clouds, and seemed to threaten rain. They dismissed the sky and went about their ways back to their homes for the night.
After pulling in to the driveway and walking up the stairs to his house, Ryan paused momentarily, and looked suspiciously at the small glow-in-the-dark skeleton that hung from the wrought iron on the stoop. An uneasy feeling he was being watched shivered through him. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d have believed that it had watched him drive up and walk to the door. His gaze lingered a moment longer, and then he shook his head, amused at his paranoia. He went inside and went to bed.
The next morning was uncharacteristically chilly and darkly overcast as hundreds of teenagers swarmed to their respective schools. The students at Northview were much more subdued as they began the morning; meanwhile there was an eerie feel throughout Dothan High. Whispers and rumors were flying about peculiar things that had happened since last night; jack-o-lanterns sitting in the yards were facing the houses instead of the street, stuffed scarecrows who wore expressions that seemed darker somehow, black cats staring and following people as they left their homes. One of Ryan’s accomplices told of waking up to a low whistling sound that never went away. Perhaps the most bizarre story was another friend’s mom’s bowl of candy corn which had been perfectly organized with the points up.
The pall was not confined to the high schools. Even the adults were noticing that something seemed off around town this day as they went to work, although most shrugged it off as part of the build-up to Halloween. However, as the day wore on, things became creepier and stranger, to the point that they could not be ignored. At Northview, one teacher had a witch’s head decoration which cackled whenever someone walked by. At exactly three o’clock it began cackling without stopping, despite the empty halls. Even after she unplugged it, the cackling continued. Now everyone began paying attention; something bizarre and a little scary was happening to the Halloween decorations in Dothan.
As evening descended in Dothan, the sky darkened and the full moon tried to come out between thick, black clouds. The news of this strange day had finally made its way to the mayor’s office. He chuckled at the absurdity of the rumored events, seeing as he had been in meetings all day and had not personally seen any decorations himself. But after his secretary left the room and he had a chance to look out the window, he changed his attitude about the matter. In the darkness outside, the streetlights cast a yellow, sick glow on the ground and street. He saw cars driving, apparently going about their business, but no sense of a panic. But then he saw something moving unnaturally. He squinted, and realized that it was a pumpkin, rolling along the sidewalk unattended. It then slowed and stopped at the curb, and then continued across the street when the light changed. His felt his stomach lurch as the absurd became reality. He stared at the sidewalk a few minutes more, even though the pumpkin was long gone.
Shaking himself back to his senses, he tried to steady his hand as he dialed the phone. In the course of his public service, he’d prepared for every conceivable natural disaster and emergency situation, from massive tornados and flooding to mass rioting to nuclear disaster over at the Farley plant. This problem, though, was definitely not natural, and so he permitted himself a tiny margin of fear and anxiety. Still, it was possible that this was, in fact, that one situation he’d also prepared for when he took office. He waited for the other end to pick up, and dismissed pleasantries before the other official could speak.
“Get the council together. Now.”
The day after his inauguration as mayor of Dothan City, three members of the city council held a top secret meeting with him. The meeting was dignified in its formality, but the tone was very lighthearted, silly even; none of the four city officials in that meeting had taken the subject seriously. Tonight, their meeting would have a much more somber tone. Tonight, they would take a very serious look at Chief Black Talon’s curse.
In the latter part of the eighteen-forties, before Dothan was actually “Dothan”, and just before the original nine families abandoned the first attempt at settlement, a local tribe of Native Americans also lived here. This was not an ordinary tribe, but a tribe of renegades from nearby Creek and Alabama nations. Its leader was a fierce and vicious warrior who went by the name Black Talon. He had been ejected by his own tribe for his merciless attacks on the white settlements as well as on other Indian villages. Over time, his band of warriors, who cherished war and murder as much as he did, made their home where the Wiregrass Mall currently stands. In time, their thirst for blood turned their attention to the fledgling village of Poplar Head (Dothan’s name at the time).
After several raids, an outright battle took place. Many of Black Talon’s men were killed, as were several white settlers. Black Talon himself was captured, quickly tried and sentenced to be hanged. Remorseless even at his hanging, he looked up to the sky before he faced his executioners. Staring at them with demented eyes, he growled his Curse:
“Here I am hanged, and so here you must keep my teeth, decorated in the finest gold, for all time. Deny me this, and the darkest spirits will rise and conquer you on the days of your Hallow’s Eve celebration!”
History says that Poplar Head failed to thrive, and was abandoned. Legend has it that it failed to thrive because of the curse. Just before the last family left in 1852, Chief Black Talon’s last request was finally honored. When the next round of settlers arrived, his accursed memorial was discovered, as was a message warning about it. Every mayor since has been entrusted with the responsibility to maintain Talon’s demand, and it was decided that not more than three council members would also be told of the curse. Over the years, the gold-encased teeth were left alone, but as Dothan grew and the Circle was planned and paved, something had to be done to protect the wicked shrine. Luckily, Dothan’s peanut reputation eventually led to the creation of the Gold Peanut statue; it was decided that the gold teeth would be hidden inside it. It would be a monument to give tribute to Dothan’s prosperity while hiding its troubled beginnings.
And so the mayor and the three councilmen realized that something must have happened to the gold teeth; they went to the Information Center to investigate. They had to travel down Main Street; as they passed the pumpkin patch at Park Street, the mayor as forced to nearly swerve into oncoming traffic when something orange exploded in front of the windshield. The car was showered with orange bits; they noticed that the road was littered with shattered pieces of pumpkins. Looking back, they watched as more tiny pumpkins flung from the patch and burst in front of the cars that went by; there was no one in the patch.
They made it to the Gold Peanut and examined it completely. Hearing distant screams mixed with various emergency sirens, they stood and looked at the gold monument. Nothing seemed out of sorts, until one of them placed his hands on it. The mayor slammed his hand down on the top of the Gold Peanut, expecting a sturdy iron surface. Instead, he was surprised to find his hand crash through it, revealing its paper makeup.
“We need to get on the PA! We need to get the real Gold Peanut back by midnight!” he said, feeling both concern and anger.
By now it was almost nine o’clock. They dodged flying pumpkins again and discovered that now they had to swerve around large plastic Halloween figurines of witches and ghosts on their way back to the public relations office. The town was swarming with yard decorations lurching across streets, black cats slinking from lamppost to mailbox and stopping to chase the humans that passed by in frenzy, and the persistent cackling and moans of decorations that were fastened to their places. Plastic rats scurried around, trying to avoid the cats, and plastic bats flew among the trees; some looked realistic while others were cartoons on cardboard. At one end of town, at the shopping centers on Highway 231, Halloween decorations had broken free from the stores and wandered about the parking lots, assaulting the few remaining drivers with candied apples and candy corn. At the other end of town, decorations in the booths at the Peanut Festival were active, but as they were confined in the hangar, they were only able to make a terrific mess of the displays.
It was just after ten-thirty before most police had been recalled to the central station. The mayor had given a directive to supersede the chaos that was engulfing the city:
Find the Gold Peanut. Assume it was in town somewhere. Search everywhere, leave no stone unturned.
They had until midnight, which left only an hour and a half. The officers didn’t understand why the Peanut was so important, but as orders were orders, they were quickly dismissed to begin a frantic search.
Ryan spent the day trying to convince himself that the stolen Peanut had nothing to do with this freaky business. When the mayor made his announcements, Ryan had been asleep with his headphones on, having fallen asleep earlier while watching a movie. His mom burst into his room just after a Special Report had interrupted her show with news of the stolen peanut, and shook him awake. He gave her no indication that he knew about the Gold Peanut’s whereabouts, but he felt concerned just the same. He checked his messages and saw that his accomplices had tried to get a hold of him. Unable to reach them now, he sent them all a message to meet him at the warehouse. He was afraid of getting busted, now that the police were involved. Still, once he went outside and saw the things that were afoot, he forgot that fear and focused on getting the peanut back to where it belonged. According to the news, it had to be done before midnight. He soon reached the warehouse, in spite of having a few paper skeletons jump onto his car along the way. As he walked up to the door, about eight jack-o-lanterns rolled toward him. Their internal glow was not apparently affected by the rolling, nor by ramming his ankles. He fell, and then scrambled inside and slammed the door closed. He ripped the tarp off the peanut and stared at it. He didn’t know why it was important, but he no longer denied it to be true. He ran back outside, hop-scotching over the pumpkin swarm, and backed the truck to the peanut. He hoisted it up onto the bed, which was much harder now that he was doing it alone. Finally, it was loaded, but now the pumpkins were back at his feet. He jumped into the truck and roared onto Oates Street, tearing off as fast as he could, racing to the Information Center. He felt a glee as the tires smashed several pumpkins.
To his left, as he sped past the side streets, he saw bursts of lights and small fires. There were police cars on both sides, with doors open but no cops. His truck leapt over the railroad hump just before swerving left onto Main Street, tires screeching in protest while trying to keep the vehicle attached to the road. He threw all caution to the wind as he flew down Main, weaving through the few cars that took the chance to be on the road. He took some joy in running over the decorations as he drove.
Another flock of jack-o-lanterns appeared in front of him about a quarter of a mile ahead, near Edgewood, spilling into the road and rolling toward him. There seemed to be several hundred now, large and small, and the tiniest pumpkins were thrown into the air and exploded.
Closing his eyes for just a second, he pushed the gas pedal further and drove into the menacing tidal wave of orange. The truck thudded and fishtailed as he squashed the bewitched squash, cracking the windshield. Soon he was past it, swinging onto the Circle. Checking his clock on the dashboard, it was ten minutes to midnight. He could see the Visitor center, surrounded by five cop cars’ flashing lights. As he got closer, he thought he saw the mayor standing there. Seeing the truck racing towards them, the mayor started shouting orders and the police scattered to move their cars.
The truck’s tires screeched as Ryan pulled up, and then backed the truck up to the spot. He jumped out, ran to the marble base and kicked the fake peanut off the mounts. The mayor and police gathered around and started to help him move the Gold Peanut.
“I’m sorry!” He blurted as they worked. “It was only supposed to be a prank!”
With minutes left, they were able to get the real Gold Peanut, which held Chief Black Talon’s gold teeth, lifted off the truck bed and suspended over the marble base. Slowly, they began to lower it. As they worked, the army of jack-o-lanterns that Ryan had driven through earlier had finally caught up with him, and were now joined by flying paper witches and led by several black cats. There was a dark menace in their glowing yellow eyes, and in the wooded shadows across the street, Ryan could make out scarecrows that walked in awkward lurches among the pumpkins. Looking back to their work, they lowered the peanut into place; it clanged metallically against the metal studs. Everyone looked up at the army, which was now only yards away. The army still advanced.
A beat later, it paused. The cats dispersed, and pumpkins rolled to a wobbly stop. The witches and scarecrows and various other ominous decorations simply fell down and fluttered to the ground. The peculiar invasion of evil monsters was thwarted, and the Gold Peanut was back in place. There would be a lot of explaining and cleaning up to do, but Dothan was safe again.
So, this Halloween, if you plan on decorating, or if you know someone who is, make sure you swing by the Gold Peanut and give it a knock. Make sure it’s the real thing. Oh, and maybe bring a gold tooth with you, just in case.
Happy Halloween!
IT WAS A dark and stormy night. Okay, that is a bit of an exaggeration; it was actually a sunny afternoon in late October. The senior class of the two local high schools, Northview and Dothan High, agreed to meet at Landmark Park and discuss this year’s Senior Prank. This unprecedented meeting had been organized under the pretense of an innocent Senior Class picnic.
Every year, the new senior class tries gain fame by outdoing the previous year’s senior prank. This particular year, one of the students, whose name was Ryan, had perhaps the most daring and dangerous idea for a prank; he even convinced the two schools to join forces to carry it out. It would be crazy, it would be illegal, but it would also most certainly be great. And so when the two groups of seniors had settled to eat their picnic lunch, Ryan stood before the gathering of twenty or so students and let them fall silent before he told them his bold plan.
“This year, for our prank, we’re going to steal the Gold Peanut,” he announced, his voice both ominous and proud. The Gold Peanut is a statue at the city’s commerce center donated in honor of Dothan’s fame as the “peanut capitol of the world” and its annual Peanut Festival.
An uproar ran through the small crowd. There were shouted objections and hollers of endorsement; the joint class of seniors was in fervor over this idea. He let them calm down, and explained his plan.
“We can make a duplicate out of paper-Mache or something and paint it gold, and then put it in place of the original! We’ll take the original somewhere safe, take pictures and make it seem like a ransom. Then, on the day before the National Peanut Festival ends, we’ll put it back, unharmed, and claim it was a hoax. No harm, no foul, but we’ll definitely be remembered forever!”
Silence hung in the air; if done right it seemed like a reasonably harmless prank, though dangerous as it was. Finally, one of the more reckless group of guys stood up and started to applaud enthusiastically. Within moments, a majority of the seniors were standing and applauding, with only a few sitting in stunned silence and not endorsing this plan. Despite those who remained seated, exchanging nervous glances, there was definitely an electric vibe in the air. This was going to be a very unique Senior Prank, indeed.
The class selected a team, led by Ryan, who would design and construct the fake, and then carry out the switch. With only a week to go before the Peanut Festival was to begin, the heist team met up the next day and began to build the duplicate, hiding it in an abandoned warehouse that stood not far from Dothan High. In just a couple of days, their pretended Gold Peanut came together and was soon ready for the exchange. They moved on with planning the actual replacement.
A few days later, just after midnight of October thirtieth, the heist team met at the warehouse. After having gathered the tools and loading the Fake Gold Peanut into the truck bed, which was fitted with a hoist for the much-heavier Real Gold Peanut, the five seniors waited at the warehouse until their selected time. At two a.m., they drove carefully to the Visitor Information Center, where the Real Gold Peanut stood. They knew they had to work swiftly to avoid being noticed by any police driving around The Circle. Having practiced several times at the warehouse, they moved briskly in the cool autumn air, with the light of a full moon shining down on them. There was an air tense with adrenaline and exhilaration as they worked, trying not to be distracted by the danger of getting caught. At least twice they paused momentarily when they thought that someone had seen them and was coming to check things out.
It took them not more than eight minutes to sever the base from the Peanut, and they hoisted it from the marble and guided the statue into the truck bed. Placing the Fake Gold Peanut on the iron tripod support extending from the marble, they fastened it to the golden studs with special gold-painted flange clips. Checking it for sturdiness and finding it satisfactory, they scrambled onto the truck and tore out of the parking lot, headed towards Westgate Park as they had planned. Whooping and cheering loudly now in unrestrained jubilance, they patted each other on the back in their successful heist. Before long, they were back inside the abandoned warehouse, with the Real Gold Peanut stowed safely and carefully in a corner and covered in a tarp. Tomorrow, they would come back and start taking pictures as part of the next stage of the Prank. Ryan congratulated the team on their good work and recommended everyone head home to get ready for school the next day.
It was almost four in the morning when they walked outside to their own vehicles, but it was no longer a moonlit night. One guy looked up and noticed that the clear sky was now full of dark, low thundering clouds, and seemed to threaten rain. They dismissed the sky and went about their ways back to their homes for the night.
After pulling in to the driveway and walking up the stairs to his house, Ryan paused momentarily, and looked suspiciously at the small glow-in-the-dark skeleton that hung from the wrought iron on the stoop. An uneasy feeling he was being watched shivered through him. If he hadn’t known any better, he’d have believed that it had watched him drive up and walk to the door. His gaze lingered a moment longer, and then he shook his head, amused at his paranoia. He went inside and went to bed.
The next morning was uncharacteristically chilly and darkly overcast as hundreds of teenagers swarmed to their respective schools. The students at Northview were much more subdued as they began the morning; meanwhile there was an eerie feel throughout Dothan High. Whispers and rumors were flying about peculiar things that had happened since last night; jack-o-lanterns sitting in the yards were facing the houses instead of the street, stuffed scarecrows who wore expressions that seemed darker somehow, black cats staring and following people as they left their homes. One of Ryan’s accomplices told of waking up to a low whistling sound that never went away. Perhaps the most bizarre story was another friend’s mom’s bowl of candy corn which had been perfectly organized with the points up.
The pall was not confined to the high schools. Even the adults were noticing that something seemed off around town this day as they went to work, although most shrugged it off as part of the build-up to Halloween. However, as the day wore on, things became creepier and stranger, to the point that they could not be ignored. At Northview, one teacher had a witch’s head decoration which cackled whenever someone walked by. At exactly three o’clock it began cackling without stopping, despite the empty halls. Even after she unplugged it, the cackling continued. Now everyone began paying attention; something bizarre and a little scary was happening to the Halloween decorations in Dothan.
As evening descended in Dothan, the sky darkened and the full moon tried to come out between thick, black clouds. The news of this strange day had finally made its way to the mayor’s office. He chuckled at the absurdity of the rumored events, seeing as he had been in meetings all day and had not personally seen any decorations himself. But after his secretary left the room and he had a chance to look out the window, he changed his attitude about the matter. In the darkness outside, the streetlights cast a yellow, sick glow on the ground and street. He saw cars driving, apparently going about their business, but no sense of a panic. But then he saw something moving unnaturally. He squinted, and realized that it was a pumpkin, rolling along the sidewalk unattended. It then slowed and stopped at the curb, and then continued across the street when the light changed. His felt his stomach lurch as the absurd became reality. He stared at the sidewalk a few minutes more, even though the pumpkin was long gone.
Shaking himself back to his senses, he tried to steady his hand as he dialed the phone. In the course of his public service, he’d prepared for every conceivable natural disaster and emergency situation, from massive tornados and flooding to mass rioting to nuclear disaster over at the Farley plant. This problem, though, was definitely not natural, and so he permitted himself a tiny margin of fear and anxiety. Still, it was possible that this was, in fact, that one situation he’d also prepared for when he took office. He waited for the other end to pick up, and dismissed pleasantries before the other official could speak.
“Get the council together. Now.”
The day after his inauguration as mayor of Dothan City, three members of the city council held a top secret meeting with him. The meeting was dignified in its formality, but the tone was very lighthearted, silly even; none of the four city officials in that meeting had taken the subject seriously. Tonight, their meeting would have a much more somber tone. Tonight, they would take a very serious look at Chief Black Talon’s curse.
In the latter part of the eighteen-forties, before Dothan was actually “Dothan”, and just before the original nine families abandoned the first attempt at settlement, a local tribe of Native Americans also lived here. This was not an ordinary tribe, but a tribe of renegades from nearby Creek and Alabama nations. Its leader was a fierce and vicious warrior who went by the name Black Talon. He had been ejected by his own tribe for his merciless attacks on the white settlements as well as on other Indian villages. Over time, his band of warriors, who cherished war and murder as much as he did, made their home where the Wiregrass Mall currently stands. In time, their thirst for blood turned their attention to the fledgling village of Poplar Head (Dothan’s name at the time).
After several raids, an outright battle took place. Many of Black Talon’s men were killed, as were several white settlers. Black Talon himself was captured, quickly tried and sentenced to be hanged. Remorseless even at his hanging, he looked up to the sky before he faced his executioners. Staring at them with demented eyes, he growled his Curse:
“Here I am hanged, and so here you must keep my teeth, decorated in the finest gold, for all time. Deny me this, and the darkest spirits will rise and conquer you on the days of your Hallow’s Eve celebration!”
History says that Poplar Head failed to thrive, and was abandoned. Legend has it that it failed to thrive because of the curse. Just before the last family left in 1852, Chief Black Talon’s last request was finally honored. When the next round of settlers arrived, his accursed memorial was discovered, as was a message warning about it. Every mayor since has been entrusted with the responsibility to maintain Talon’s demand, and it was decided that not more than three council members would also be told of the curse. Over the years, the gold-encased teeth were left alone, but as Dothan grew and the Circle was planned and paved, something had to be done to protect the wicked shrine. Luckily, Dothan’s peanut reputation eventually led to the creation of the Gold Peanut statue; it was decided that the gold teeth would be hidden inside it. It would be a monument to give tribute to Dothan’s prosperity while hiding its troubled beginnings.
And so the mayor and the three councilmen realized that something must have happened to the gold teeth; they went to the Information Center to investigate. They had to travel down Main Street; as they passed the pumpkin patch at Park Street, the mayor as forced to nearly swerve into oncoming traffic when something orange exploded in front of the windshield. The car was showered with orange bits; they noticed that the road was littered with shattered pieces of pumpkins. Looking back, they watched as more tiny pumpkins flung from the patch and burst in front of the cars that went by; there was no one in the patch.
They made it to the Gold Peanut and examined it completely. Hearing distant screams mixed with various emergency sirens, they stood and looked at the gold monument. Nothing seemed out of sorts, until one of them placed his hands on it. The mayor slammed his hand down on the top of the Gold Peanut, expecting a sturdy iron surface. Instead, he was surprised to find his hand crash through it, revealing its paper makeup.
“We need to get on the PA! We need to get the real Gold Peanut back by midnight!” he said, feeling both concern and anger.
By now it was almost nine o’clock. They dodged flying pumpkins again and discovered that now they had to swerve around large plastic Halloween figurines of witches and ghosts on their way back to the public relations office. The town was swarming with yard decorations lurching across streets, black cats slinking from lamppost to mailbox and stopping to chase the humans that passed by in frenzy, and the persistent cackling and moans of decorations that were fastened to their places. Plastic rats scurried around, trying to avoid the cats, and plastic bats flew among the trees; some looked realistic while others were cartoons on cardboard. At one end of town, at the shopping centers on Highway 231, Halloween decorations had broken free from the stores and wandered about the parking lots, assaulting the few remaining drivers with candied apples and candy corn. At the other end of town, decorations in the booths at the Peanut Festival were active, but as they were confined in the hangar, they were only able to make a terrific mess of the displays.
It was just after ten-thirty before most police had been recalled to the central station. The mayor had given a directive to supersede the chaos that was engulfing the city:
Find the Gold Peanut. Assume it was in town somewhere. Search everywhere, leave no stone unturned.
They had until midnight, which left only an hour and a half. The officers didn’t understand why the Peanut was so important, but as orders were orders, they were quickly dismissed to begin a frantic search.
Ryan spent the day trying to convince himself that the stolen Peanut had nothing to do with this freaky business. When the mayor made his announcements, Ryan had been asleep with his headphones on, having fallen asleep earlier while watching a movie. His mom burst into his room just after a Special Report had interrupted her show with news of the stolen peanut, and shook him awake. He gave her no indication that he knew about the Gold Peanut’s whereabouts, but he felt concerned just the same. He checked his messages and saw that his accomplices had tried to get a hold of him. Unable to reach them now, he sent them all a message to meet him at the warehouse. He was afraid of getting busted, now that the police were involved. Still, once he went outside and saw the things that were afoot, he forgot that fear and focused on getting the peanut back to where it belonged. According to the news, it had to be done before midnight. He soon reached the warehouse, in spite of having a few paper skeletons jump onto his car along the way. As he walked up to the door, about eight jack-o-lanterns rolled toward him. Their internal glow was not apparently affected by the rolling, nor by ramming his ankles. He fell, and then scrambled inside and slammed the door closed. He ripped the tarp off the peanut and stared at it. He didn’t know why it was important, but he no longer denied it to be true. He ran back outside, hop-scotching over the pumpkin swarm, and backed the truck to the peanut. He hoisted it up onto the bed, which was much harder now that he was doing it alone. Finally, it was loaded, but now the pumpkins were back at his feet. He jumped into the truck and roared onto Oates Street, tearing off as fast as he could, racing to the Information Center. He felt a glee as the tires smashed several pumpkins.
To his left, as he sped past the side streets, he saw bursts of lights and small fires. There were police cars on both sides, with doors open but no cops. His truck leapt over the railroad hump just before swerving left onto Main Street, tires screeching in protest while trying to keep the vehicle attached to the road. He threw all caution to the wind as he flew down Main, weaving through the few cars that took the chance to be on the road. He took some joy in running over the decorations as he drove.
Another flock of jack-o-lanterns appeared in front of him about a quarter of a mile ahead, near Edgewood, spilling into the road and rolling toward him. There seemed to be several hundred now, large and small, and the tiniest pumpkins were thrown into the air and exploded.
Closing his eyes for just a second, he pushed the gas pedal further and drove into the menacing tidal wave of orange. The truck thudded and fishtailed as he squashed the bewitched squash, cracking the windshield. Soon he was past it, swinging onto the Circle. Checking his clock on the dashboard, it was ten minutes to midnight. He could see the Visitor center, surrounded by five cop cars’ flashing lights. As he got closer, he thought he saw the mayor standing there. Seeing the truck racing towards them, the mayor started shouting orders and the police scattered to move their cars.
The truck’s tires screeched as Ryan pulled up, and then backed the truck up to the spot. He jumped out, ran to the marble base and kicked the fake peanut off the mounts. The mayor and police gathered around and started to help him move the Gold Peanut.
“I’m sorry!” He blurted as they worked. “It was only supposed to be a prank!”
With minutes left, they were able to get the real Gold Peanut, which held Chief Black Talon’s gold teeth, lifted off the truck bed and suspended over the marble base. Slowly, they began to lower it. As they worked, the army of jack-o-lanterns that Ryan had driven through earlier had finally caught up with him, and were now joined by flying paper witches and led by several black cats. There was a dark menace in their glowing yellow eyes, and in the wooded shadows across the street, Ryan could make out scarecrows that walked in awkward lurches among the pumpkins. Looking back to their work, they lowered the peanut into place; it clanged metallically against the metal studs. Everyone looked up at the army, which was now only yards away. The army still advanced.
A beat later, it paused. The cats dispersed, and pumpkins rolled to a wobbly stop. The witches and scarecrows and various other ominous decorations simply fell down and fluttered to the ground. The peculiar invasion of evil monsters was thwarted, and the Gold Peanut was back in place. There would be a lot of explaining and cleaning up to do, but Dothan was safe again.
So, this Halloween, if you plan on decorating, or if you know someone who is, make sure you swing by the Gold Peanut and give it a knock. Make sure it’s the real thing. Oh, and maybe bring a gold tooth with you, just in case.
Happy Halloween!