The Order Of The Halloween Tree

A photo series tribute to Ray Bradbury's classic tale.

Chapter 5:  Hackles Nibley
 
“Mr. Moundshroud, is that you!” cried Tom.

For towering forty feet above them in the sky, an immense scythe in his hands, was this cowled figure, its face in midnight fogs.

The blade swung down: hisssssss!
 
“Mr. Moundshroud, let us be!”

“Shut up.” Someone knocked Toms elbow. Mr. Moundshroud lay on the earth beside him. “That’s not me. That’s—”

“Samhain!” cried the voice in the fog. “God of the Dead! I harvest thus, and so!”
Sssss-whoooshhhh!
 
“All those who died this year are here! And for their sins, this night, are turned to beasts!”
Sssssswooommmmmmm!

“Please,” whimpered Ralph-the-Mummy.

“Sssssssttttt! The scythe zippered Hackles Nibley’s spine, ripping his costume in a long tear, knocking his own small scythe free of his hands.

“Beasts!”

And the harvest wheat, flailed up, spun round on the wind, shrieking its souls, all those who had died in the past twelve months, rained to earth.

The Halloween Tree

For the pumpkins on the Tree were not mere pumpkins. Each had a face sliced into it. Each face was different. Every eye was a stranger eye. Every nose was a weirder nose. Every mouth smiled hideously in some new way. There must have been a thousand pumpkins on this tree, hung high and on every branch. A thousand smiles. A thousand grimaces. And twice-times-a-thousand glares and winks and blinks and leerings of freshcut eyes.And as the boys watched, a new thing happened.The pumpkins began to come alive.

Ray Bradbury, The Halloween Tree

Such an absolutely wonderful and incredible thing to do.

Man, this is great!

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