The Secret Society of The Great Pumpkin Read online

  Chapter 1 – My Arrival

  “Allen, get in here,” Master Sergeant Thompson yelled from inside his office. The noise boomed out his office and down the hall to where US Marine Sergeant Allen sat near the receptionist’s kiosk.

  “That doesn’t sound good,” Allen said to the not-so-young lady working in the receptionist’s area.

  “I don’t know,” she replied without even looking up from her word processor.

  Allen stood and then marched down the hall to the Master Sergeant’s office, making sure to strike the heels of his patent leather dress shoes on the tiled floor in just that certain way that should have signaled a person of authority and importance was on the way.

  Boom Boom Boom, Allen banged with the base of his closed fist on the doorframe outside the Master Sergeant’s office.

  “Enter,” Master Sergeant Thompson yelled. Allen detected even more of the man’s frustrated mood.

  “Sergeant Allen reporting as ordered,” he said after centering himself in front of the Master Sergeant’s desk, snapping to attention, ensuring his heels clicked loud and clear. He had been trained that for Marines these first meetings were important and every seemingly insignificant detail from showing up on time to wearing a crisp and clean uniform with your medals and badges properly displayed were significant chances to instill confidence and communicate one’s commitment to whatever the mission might be.

  “At ease,” Thompson said, looking up at Allen, unimpressed. He tossed a manila folder at him hitting him in the chest. Allen barely caught it, keeping its contents from spilling. He righted the large folder and read the label.

  Thompson was a tall Marine; this was evident even as he sat down behind a desk. He also wasn’t what Marines called a desk flyer. Thompson was a combat-tested infantry specialist. After his most recent tour of duty in Iraq, where shrapnel from an explosive device left a large scar and crater above his left eye, the Marine Corps assigned him to Texas A&M as a Senior Military Instructor. The Marine Corps gave Thompson the assignment to give him a break from the intensity of multiple successive combat tours, even though Thompson rejected the idea that he needed such a break.

  Tall, thin, a badass, Allen thought, looking at the man’s colorful and shiny medals and badges displayed in rows above his left breast pocket, probably a great runner, shooter, and a great combat tactician. They don’t let just anybody become infantry Master Sergeants. Allen looked in the folder.

  “The Secret Society of The Great Pumpkin?” Allen said aloud. “What’s up, Top?”

  Allen had just made his first mistake of many by referring to the Master Sergeant as “Top,” a term of endearment Master Sergeants usually reserve for Marines who have earned their respect. Marines don’t call Master Sergeants “Top” without his or her permission to do so.

  “My rank is Goddamn Master Sergeant. You got that Allen?”

  There was no real requirement for senior Marines to offer similar respect to their juniors. When the Master Sergeant called Sergeant Allen “Allen,” he communicated that in his mind the jury was still out as to whether Sergeant Allen was even deserving of his respect as either a Marine or a Sergeant of Marines. It would mean something huge to Allen to get promoted in the Master Sergeant’s mind from Allen to Sergeant Allen. A Marine Sergeant needed to earn such recognitions and Allen knew that.

  “Yes Master Sergeant. Understood,” he replied.

  “What’s this all about Master Sergeant?” Allen asked again.

  “Look at the goddamn pictures Allen. There’s some squirrelly shit going on with these goddamn cadets and squirrelly shit makes my ass itch.”

  Allen thumbed through the pictures in the folder and finally asked, “The Secret Society of The Great Pumpkin, like Charlie Brown?”

  “No asshole! Not like Charlie Brown… Well, maybe it is something like Charlie Brown, but don’t get cute with me Allen. You ever seen anything like this?” Thompson asked.

  “I can’t say that I have, but what is this?” Allen replied.

  “That’s three years’ worth of pictures and notes showing the kind of shit that goes on at Texas A&M every Halloween night. It’s the Secret Society of The Great Pumpkin or the Curse of The Great Pumpkin or some stupid shit like that.”

  Allen said, “It doesn’t seem like anything out of the ordinary compared the typical shit college students and frats houses pull at every college and university around the world.”

  “Oh does it now?” Thompson said. “You look at those pictures real good Allen. Look at them long and hard, because this is the year we stop the Secret Society of The Great Pumpkin at Texas A&M University.”

  Allen saw a glimmer in the man’s eye, a gleam that suggested, a touch of crazy, Allen thought, just like all Master Sergeants.

  Allen snapped to attention and said, “Yes, Master Sergeant,” thinking maybe the man was feeling some residual effects of his recent combat injuries.

  “What are you staring at?” Thompson asked. “Are you staring at my wife?”

  Allen glanced at the 30x20 portrait hanging behind the Master Sergeant’s desk, showing of a very attractive and curvy blonde. He wasn’t quite sure the woman in the portrait was real or even the Master Sergeant’s wife at all.

  “No Master Sergeant,” he replied. “I have a thousand-mile stare and I didn’t even notice the picture of your wife.

  “Oh, so you don’t think she’s good enough for you?”

  “No Master Sergeant, that’s not what I mean. It’s just that when I get a mission, I focus on the mission and I don’t easily get distracted from the mission.”

  “That may be the best answer I’ve heard since I got here,” Thompson said. “Says in your file you have a background in investigations among other specialties.”

  “That’s true,” Allen said, still not staring at the man’s wife.

  “Your file also says you’re not married.”

  “That’s true.”

  “It also says you’ve been in a little trouble before.”

  “That’s true, Master Sergeant, but I’m more mature now.”

  “Took you just a little longer than normal to get promoted to Sergeant. The average age of Marine Sergeants here at Texas A&M is 23. You’re the oldest one here at 27 and you’re only a freshman. Your file also shows one of the highest intelligence test scores I’ve ever seen, but the real reason I’m assigning this Great Pumpkin bullshit to you is because of your legal and criminal investigations experience. You’re new and you’re a Marine that I think can rattle a few cages better than the other sergeants and maybe we play good cop bad cop to get to the bottom of this. What do you think?”

  Allen fought back a smile. He loved a challenge, a mystery to solve, a code to crack, and he was immediately very curious to figure out this The Great Pumpkin thing.

  He said, “Are you sure you want to dig into this Master Sergeant?”

  “I’m sure and even more important, our General is sure. Every year these dumbass cadets pull this goddamn prank and cost the school more than $250,000 to clean it up. Every year the Marine MECEP platoon tries to stop The Great Pumpkin and every year we fail. Well, this is the year we stop it. It’s not going down while I’m here. So criminal investigator, Allen, by Monday I want your plan for how we are going to stop this.”

  “Master Sergeant, I have major exams next week and the weeks after. I planned on using my free time to study.”

  “You can fuck that studying bullshit Allen! Your number one priority is to stop The Great Pumpkin and you have until Halloween night to fucking figure this out! Have I made myself clear?”

  Allen snapped back to attention and shouted, “Yes Master Sergeant!”

  Staring at the Master Sergeant’s wife, inside his mind he thought, Goddamn these fucking dumbass college students. Great Fucking Pumpkin!?! I have my own shit I need to do; tests, papers to write, cadet classes to teach. What if I wanted to just chill out and get good grades? I guess that’s a low fucking priority. Now I gotta give up t
he next two months of my life for this fucking childish bullshit. Son of a bitch!

  Picking up the case file folder, Allen left the Master Sergeant’s office and passed the receptionist’s area on the way out.

  “That didn’t seem so bad,” she said sarcastically. Allen ignored her, showing a deep scowl on his face and kept walking.

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