Halloween Memory-Pumpkinrot: The Green Skull

My grandparents lived in a tiny neighborhood of tiny row homes. It seemed every house had a tiny elderly couple in it. When they decorated for any holiday, it seemed they all used decorations that hadn't been manufactured in decades. They were now worn and pale. Strings of giant pastel light bulbs for Christmas, the kind that'd fit in the palm of your hand. Strange shiny foil foldout decorations hanging from window locks and doorknobs. Paper decorations with images of happy Pilgrims and smiling Indians sitting at the same table.


Halloween. Everyone seemed to have a ceramic pumpkin happily facing out into the street. A bright white bulb making sure neighbors across the street could feel the joy from triangular features. But up at the corner. A tiny creepy skull, smiling green. The house was always dark. No porch light that I can remember. Leaves always on the sidewalk. No lights on inside the house. But there it was - a tiny white skull with a green bulb inside. Always on. All Halloween season long. And we obsessed about it. And we still do. Remember the skull? we've asked for years. And, of course, we do.

So a few months ago, I saw it. Someone offering a small white skull for sale. Unlike any ceramic skull I've seen. In my mind, it's THE skull. From that house. The ceramic bone is incredibly thin. Delicate. But perfect. And there was no doubt about it; he'd have a green bulb for a brain. And he'd go in the window.

And I'll make sure to turn the rest of the lights out.