Schukov: The origin of Halloween — a true tale

Once upon a time, there was a village named Pumpkintown on the outskirts of a deep forest. ...

A scarrrry skeleton stabs a pumpkin in a pumpkin carving contest at halloween party in Beaconsfield.

Pumpkin carving is a Halloween tradition. Vincenzo D'Alto / The Gazette

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Once upon a time, there was a village named Pumpkintown on the outskirts of a deep forest. Neighbouring towns shunned the villagers because they were goblins, ghosts, witches, mummies, ghouls, werewolves and investment counsellors.

The “scaries” had been banished here by decree of the king. So eager was the ruler to please his subjects, he staged regular referendums, resulting in all kinds of unwanted items like spiders, bats, snakes and broccoli also being banished to Pumpkintown.

But the monarch felt compassion for the outcasts, so he built his castle nearby. To lessen their pain of social stigma, he held a gathering in the village square to declare a new holiday called, “The People’s Forest Day,” whereby any villager could lay claim to any woods that started wherever the trees stopped.

The scaries cheered. Then, a hand rose at the back of the crowd. Silus Boo, a ghost, casually asked, “Begging your pardon, sire, doesn’t that make as much sense as “People’s Lake Day” where we could claim parts of the lake that did not have any water?” Boo was immediately hauled away and hung at the adjoining gallows. Boo put on quite a show when the trap door fell. He hovered above the hole. This was the sixth time that he had been hung. Then he did the trick where he split into two identical ghosts. It amused the ghouls so much that they started to exchange heads. One shocked visitor asked the king: “Can they do that?” “Of course!” said the king. As long as they return it to the original owner.”

Later, the king summoned Boo to his court:

“Why do you persist in putting your spin to all of the proceedings?” asked the king.

Boo replied, “Your greatness, all of your kindness does not fill the void in our hearts. Just once a year we would like to feel that we are part of the world.”

“Out of the question!” barked the king. “You would scare them out of their skins.”

“What if they didn’t know we were monsters? What if they thought we were normal people dressed up as monsters?”

“You’ve lost your mind as well as your body,” sighed the king.

“How about a holiday to celebrate the banishment of the monsters? On that day, people outside of Pumpkintown, dress up as monsters and knock on strangers’ doors, asking if they can stay for supper. We join in and nobody knows the difference,” said Boo.

“Too dangerous,” said the king. “Someone may pull on a werewolf’s beard and find that it doesn’t come off. Besides, monsters have terrible table manners.”

“Okay. Everybody carries a cooler and asks for leftovers.”

“Good idea but coolers haven’t been invented yet. How about treats like candies and fruit?” asked the king.

“Little wonder that you’re the king,” beamed Silus. He slaps the king on the back but misses. “We can have people say stuff like, ‘Give us a treat or we’ll move back into the neighbourhood.’”

“Too scary,” said the king.

“It’s just a trick to get a treat.”

“I’ll get back to you on that one.”

Just then, a guard entered and said, “Sire, the 50 carts of hot dogs you ordered for tonight’s gala have arrived. We put them in the corridor next to the kitchen, like you asked.”

“Good.” Turning to Boo, the king says, “We need a name for this holiday.”

Just then, the chef entered and said, “Excuse me, exalted one. What do I do with the hall o’weenies?”

“Hmmm . . .” said the king.


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