I’ve got proof! Come look at this. Something is very wrong here! Dad!” He was bent over a workbench, examining a pair of hedge clippers. I didn’t see Haywood. I guessed he had gone home. Dad turned as I came screaming into the garage. “Devin? What’s up this time?” “I’ve got proof!” I cried. “I told you something is weird here. Look at these pumpkins, Dad. Look at them.” I tried to hand them over to him. But they fell out of my arms and tumbled to the garage floor. “Oh. Sorry.” Shaking his head, Dad dropped down on his knees and began gathering them up. “See?” I cried. “Look at them.” “What about them?” he demanded. “Dale and Dolly didn’t paint those,” I said. He raised pumpkin after pumpkin and studied the painted faces. “Why not?” he asked. “Huh?” I squatted down beside him. He turned two pumpkins toward me. Cute smiley faces. He set those down and picked up two more. Cross-eyed faces with goofy red tongues hanging out of grinning mouths.
