Yes, it was definitely them. The new-sneaker kids. Marty’s heart started racing. They knew this was a possibility, but two minutes ago he’d been fast asleep, and being woken by voices in the middle of the night made you feel dizzy. Like it wasn’t really happening.

He heard the allotment gate creak. He and Gracie were ready for this. Had made their preparations. But now the time was here, Marty had gotten literal and figurative cold feet. Gracie nudged him, mouthed to him, “What’s going on?”

“They’re coming up the path…” It was dark, and it was making it difficult for Gracie to lip-read.

They’d laid a system of pulleys and traps. They knew what to do—it was a well-oiled and drilled operation. Marty shuffled over to one side of the shed and leaned down to pick up a rope laid on the floor. Gracie kept watch on the other side. Then, when the boys were halfway up the path, she signaled thumbs-up. Marty then yanked the rope, which pulled on a pulley and raised a wire, thin and invisible, as taut as a guitar string, across the path. There was a second and a half of silence before the first one fell, CRUMP! Then another one fell over the first one, WAAAAA! Then another one, SPLAT.

Marty peeped around the side of the shed to see a lump of flailing and kicking arms and legs wriggling on the path. He tried not to giggle.

“Get off me! Get off me!”

“What are you doing? Watch where you’re going, you idiot!”

“It wasn’t me! It was him!”

Marty gave Gracie the thumbs-up. There were three of them, from what Marty could count in the dim light. He watched as they got up, untangled themselves, and started shoving one another as each one tried to blame the other.

“Let’s do this!” said Gerry eventually … “We came here to give that pumpkin a kicking, and that’s what we’re going to do … We’ll show them and that stupid wishing pumpkin…”

Marty’s eyes narrowed. They were truly horrible. Absolutely horrible. He watched as they walked nearer to the shed. Although they were all mouth, Marty was convinced that they looked a bit uncertain. It was almost as if they were afraid of being out in the dark. He smiled. This was going to be so much fun. Marty had a secret weapon stashed behind the shed. It was one of the lady at allotment 7’s wind chimes. He picked it up and blew on it. An eerie sound reverberated around the allotment. Marty listened as the boys stopped in their tracks.

“What was that?”

They listened for a moment.

“It was nothing.”

Marty blew again so the chimes shivered in the night.

“There it was again!”

“It’s a ghost!”

“There’s no such thing!”

“I heard it!”