The Carrot Catastrophe                                                  

by Cathleen Lykens

Miss Cordelia Crumpet lived in a tiny house in the center of Pleasantville,

Although she had a small home, her yard was quite large.  In fact it was so large and so lovely that all the children from town gathered there to play. Every spring, bright sunshine beckoned the boys and girls to her luxurious lawn.  The emerald grass and the scattered patches of wildflowers were too tempting for the children to resist.

“They are so loud and rowdy,” Miss Cordelia complained to Mr. Mayor.  “How can I keep those children out of my yard?”

“Have you ever considered planting a garden?” he inquired.

And consider she did!  Soon Miss Cordelia had turned her yard into a grand vegetable garden.  Brown earth and neat rows now filled the space where the children had frolicked and played.  She planted cabbages and cauliflower, Brussels sprouts and broccoli, escarole and eggplant, and, her favorite vegetable of all, carrots.

Miss Cordelia spent many hours carefully tending her plants.  Days passed and the garden grew and grew…but as the vegetables grew bigger, so did the frowns on the faces of the children.  Miss Cordelia, however, was too busy to notice.

One day Mr. Mayor stopped by for a visit.  “Good Day, Miss Cordelia.  What a lovely garden.  Your vegetables are flourishing.”

        “Oh yes,“ she replied, “especially my carrots.”

        Summer changed to autumn, and harvest day arrived. Miss Cordelia proudly picked her vegetables.  Her wheelbarrow quickly filled with piles of cabbages and cauliflower, bunches of Brussels sprouts and broccoli, and heaps of escarole and eggplant.  At last she came to the carrots.

Just as the sun began to set, she stooped to pull the final carrot.  It was as big around as a dinner plate, and no matter how hard she pulled, it would not budge. Finally, she used her shovel to pry the carrot from the ground, leaving behind a large, deep hole.

        When morning came, Miss Cordelia peered out her kitchen window.  The day seemed dreary and washed of color.  A large crowd was gathered along her fence pointing at her garden and muttering to each other.  In the middle of the muddle stood Mr. Mayor, a worried expression marring his face.

When she spied what had captured their attention, Miss Cordelia almost dropped her cup of tea.  Circling slowly above her garden over the carrot hole was a rainbow vortex.  The colors twirled lazily, drifting downward like water draining from a bathtub.  This bizarre funnel was pulling in all of the colors from Pleasantville.

The sky, the grass, even all the lovely buildings had been leached of their vibrant colors, leaving behind pale pastel hues.  Even the people in the crowd appeared faded and wan.

        “Miss Cordelia,” called Mr. Mayor, “can we stop this terrible tornado?”

        “I can replace the carrot,” she replied, “but how can we return the brilliance to Pleasantville?”

        “I have an idea,” shouted one small girl.

        She grabbed the hands of those children standing close to her and marched bravely toward the hole and the vortex of color.  “Hurry!  Let’s play Ring-Around-The-Rosie!”   The children charged forward and began their game, singing and turning in counterpoint to the whirling rainbow funnel.  

        The crowd held a collective breath as the whirl of colors seemed to freeze above the hole.  Slowly it reversed its motion turning in time with the children, siphoning the pigments out of hole and returning Pleasantville to its former vibrancy. Miss Cordelia retrieved the carrot from her wheelbarrow and snuggly returned it to its hole.  The children had reversed the disaster.

After what came to be known as the “Carrot Catastrophe” Miss Cordelia did not seemed bothered by the sounds of children playing.  In fact, to show her gratitude, she turned her entire yard into a playground where the children of Pleasantville continue to play to this day.