by Bill Tiepelman
The Harvest Watcher
The Harvest Watcher’s Halloween Havoc It was Halloween night, the one night when The Harvest Watcher, a tiny elf with a sass level rivaled only by her height (about three inches, but don’t tell her that), had to keep a sharp eye on her pumpkin patch. She loved her job, really. Guarding pumpkins was her calling. But tonight, the forest felt different. The wind howled louder, the trees seemed darker, and somewhere in the distance, an owl hooted in a way that sounded suspiciously like laughter. This wasn’t just any Halloween—it was the full-moon kind, and every nutty ghoul and clueless mortal was about to waltz right into her patch. “Not on my watch,” she muttered, cracking her knuckles and adjusting her hat, which was festooned with berries, leaves, and enough autumn flair to put a Pinterest board to shame. She had barely settled onto her favorite stump when she heard a rustling in the bushes. Her heart sank. "Who goes there?” she called, her tiny voice echoing with a surprising authority. Out of the shadows slunk a group of costumed kids, about ten of them, carrying flashlights and candy bags already half-full. “Look, there she is! The forest elf!” one of them squealed, pointing right at her. Oh, for pumpkin’s sake. The Harvest Watcher sighed. She was hoping for at least another hour before the Halloween thrill-seekers showed up. But there was no stopping them once the stories got out. She glared at them, hands on her tiny hips. “What do you think you’re doing here? Don’t you have houses to egg or candy to steal?” she demanded, her voice dripping with annoyance. “We’re looking for the legendary forest treasures,” one particularly bold kid declared, flashing an annoyingly toothy grin. “We heard the elf would grant us a wish if we found her!” The Harvest Watcher snorted. “A wish? The only thing I’m going to grant you is a swift kick in the keister if you touch a single pumpkin.” But the kids only giggled, clearly unbothered by her threats. “Alright, last warning, kiddos,” she hissed, grabbing her trusty staff—a tiny twig but enchanted to pack a punch. They weren’t scared, so she figured it was time to give them a taste of her power. With a flourish, she waved her twig-staff, and the pumpkins began to glow with an eerie orange light. Their carved faces twisted and grinned, and the forest seemed to whisper, "Turn back…." Most of the kids screamed and took off, but one stubborn kid—the one who probably still believed in Santa at age fifteen—stood his ground, staring her down. “I’m not scared of you, tiny elf!” he taunted. “I’ll just take this pumpkin here and…” Before he could finish, the Harvest Watcher flicked her fingers, and the pumpkin he was reaching for came to life, sprouting vine-arms that wrapped around his legs. “HELP!” he yelped as he struggled to break free. The vines held firm, dragging him backwards as his friends yelled, “Leave it, Todd! She’s real! Run!” With a smirk, The Harvest Watcher released him, and he bolted after his friends, his dignity left somewhere between the forest entrance and the nearest pumpkin. Good riddance. She dusted off her hands. But the night wasn’t over yet. Far from it. Just as she was about to settle back down, she heard another rustling sound—this time from behind. “Please, let this be another raccoon in a witch hat,” she muttered, turning around. But what she saw made her jaw drop. Out of the trees sauntered three full-grown adults dressed as vampires. And not the classy, “I-hung-out-with-Dracula” type vampires. No, these were the bargain-bin, black-lipstick, ripped-fishnet-wearing kind. And judging by the bottles in their hands, they’d been celebrating since sundown. “Look, it’s the elf,” one of them slurred, leaning on his friend. “The one from the legends, right? If we catch her, we get a… a… prize or something?” The friend shrugged, mumbling something about how they “didn’t come all this way to get spooked by a forest pixie.” The Harvest Watcher groaned. “Alright, boys, turn around and head back to your party. I’m not here to entertain drunken vampires.” But they kept advancing, circling her pumpkin patch like wolves around a chicken coop. “Fine,” she said, cracking her knuckles again. “You want a Halloween scare? You’ve got it.” She chanted a few words in an ancient elfin tongue, and suddenly the pumpkins erupted into a roaring blaze of orange and green fire, illuminating the forest in an otherworldly light. The three men froze, their faces pale under the flickering glow. But that wasn’t enough for The Harvest Watcher. She flicked her wrist, and one of the pumpkins sprouted legs, hopping over to the lead vampire and letting out a tiny but menacing roar. “AHHH!” he shrieked, dropping his bottle and scrambling backwards. “And don’t come back!” she yelled after them as they stumbled and tripped their way out of the forest, half of them babbling apologies and the other half screaming about “demon pumpkins.” By now, the forest was quiet, and she was almost ready to call it a night. But Halloween had one last surprise for her. From the shadows, a cloaked figure emerged, small but dignified, with a pumpkin head carved with an elaborate, toothy grin. “Watcher,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. The Harvest Watcher narrowed her eyes. “Jack. You’re late.” Jack-o’-Lantern, the spirit of Halloween himself, shrugged. “Busy night, you know how it is. I just wanted to stop by and thank you for keeping things in order here.” “All in a night’s work, Jack. But you owe me. These mortals are getting more obnoxious every year.” Jack chuckled. “Fine. Next year, I’ll send you some reinforcements. Maybe a few werewolves to liven things up.” He gave her a wink, his carved face casting eerie shadows in the moonlight. And with that, he vanished into the mist, leaving The Harvest Watcher alone with her pumpkins and the lingering smell of cider and firelight. She gave one last look around her patch, satisfied that she’d held her ground. “Happy Halloween,” she whispered to her pumpkins. “Now rest up…there’s always next year.” As the night grew quiet, The Harvest Watcher finally leaned back, content that her pumpkins were safe for another Halloween. But for those who wished to bring a piece of her pumpkin-protecting magic home, she’d left behind a few enchanted treasures of her own. Celebrate the spirit of Halloween year-round with The Harvest Watcher collection, available in charming forms: Throw Pillow – Bring cozy, whimsical charm to your space with this delightful pillow featuring The Harvest Watcher herself. Puzzle – Embrace a magical challenge and piece together this enchanting autumn scene, one pumpkin at a time. Tote Bag – Carry a bit of Halloween magic wherever you go with this sturdy, stylish tote bag. Tapestry – Transform any room into an autumn forest with a tapestry that captures all the whimsy and wonder of The Harvest Watcher’s realm. Whether you're a lover of Halloween, a fan of fantasy, or simply want to enjoy a touch of fall magic, The Harvest Watcher collection is here to bring a little enchantment to your everyday life. Happy Halloween…and remember, keep an eye on your pumpkins!
