Free Pumpkin by Robert Bloch Page A

comfortable home. Billy lost a few weeks of school but for an eight-year-old it wasn’t important, and he liked his new surroundings—ten full acres to run wild in, plus the woods behind the abandoned Holloway place across the road.
    But right from the start David put his foot down. He didn’t want Billy playing anywhere near the deserted farmhouse with its caved-in roof, and served notice that the woods were strictly off-limits; in fact, he wasn’t permitted to cross the road at all.
    Vera could understand about the farmhouse because it was boarded-up, and there was no telling if the structure was safe. What she couldn’t understand was why Billy couldn’t play in the yard or the wooded area beyond.
    “Private property,” David said. “No trespassing. Folks out here are funny about such things.”
    Vera tried to reason with him. “There’s nobody living within a mile of this place. And Billy isn’t going to harm anything.”
    “That’s not the point. I don’t want anything to harm Billy.”
    “What do you mean?”
    David didn’t answer her. But it was then she began to notice the way he acted every night as darkness came, locking everything up. Vera believed in taking precautions—after all, you never know who might be driving around nowadays, looking for a place to break into—but he started so early, even before twilight, and if he found anything left open by accident he blew his stack.
    But it was the drinking that bothered her the most. Back in town they usually had a cocktail before dinner to help him unwind when he came home from work. Now there was no work and he wasn’t sharing a martini with her; he was drinking straight vodka and going through as much as half a bottle a night. He’d gotten into the habit of sleeping all morning and watching television all afternoon. Funny, he’d always hated soap operas before. Maybe he still did because he never commented on them, just sat staring at the tube with a sort of glazed look in his eyes. But when Billy came home on the school bus, David turned off the set and the glazed look disappeared. He watched the youngster like a hawk if he went out to play, and chewed Vera out for not doing the same.
    It’s David I should have been looking at, not Billy. Vera frowned, peering through the window. Where did I lose him?
    She found him now, moving forth from the deep shadows across the road and pulling Billy along by the collar. As they neared the house she could hear the muffled sound of sobbing.
    Now David’s voice rose as Vera opened the door. “I warned you, remember? Why didn’t you keep away from there like you were told?”
    Billy raised a tear-stained face. “Honest, I was only—”
    “Never mind the excuses! I give the orders here and don’t you forget it. I want you to march upstairs to your room and go straight to bed.”
    “But Dad—”
    “You heard me. Now get going!”
    Shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs, Billy made his way up the staircase as his parents stood watching in the hall, avoiding each other’s gaze. The sound of his footsteps faded and they heard the bedroom door closing in the hall above.
    Vera turned, speaking softly. “Really, David, must you? The poor kid hasn’t even had his dinner.”
    “It won’t hurt him to miss a meal. And he’s got to learn to obey the rules. I don’t want him going over there.”
    Vera took a deep breath. “You keep saying that, but you never give any reasons. Just as long as he keeps away from the house I don’t see—”
    “You don’t see anything,” David said. “Come on, let’s eat. I’m starving.”
    But when she served dinner David didn’t seem hungry. He scarcely touched his food; instead he got up and poured himself another drink, bringing the bottle back to the table with him.
    “Want some coffee?” she said.
    “No, I’m okay.” He gulped the drink, then refilled his glass.
    Vera took another deep breath. “You’re not okay.”
    David shrugged. “Have it your own