Puschel’s Pumpkin Bowling Lane

“Nine days to go!” said Puschel. He carried three empty paper cups into the garden. Each had a smiling pumpkin drawn on it. Flauschi brought a soft green fabric ball.

“A pumpkin bowling lane for the party,” Puschel explained. “But our real pumpkins are staying on their table. Only soft balls get to roll today.”

They found a clear, level patch beside the stone path. There was no furniture in the way. Flauschi gathered the loose leaves from their little playing area. Puschel arranged the three cups in a triangle.

Then he fetched a fourth cup. It was empty and had no face.

“This is my aiming cup,” he said. “I’ll put it here. Then I’ll know where to roll.”

He placed it a little to the right, in front of the pumpkin cups. Then he went back. Flauschi waited beside the lane, out of the way.

Puschel bent down and gently pushed the ball along the ground. It rolled to the right. Plop! The empty aiming cup fell over. The three pumpkin faces were still standing exactly as before.

Puschel blinked. “My aim was too good.”

Flauschi giggled. “You hit exactly the cup you were looking at.”

They waited until the ball stopped. Then they walked forward together. Puschel picked up his fallen cup and peered inside.

“Not even a biscuit to cheer me up,” he observed.

“Well, it’s an aiming cup, not a biscuit cup.”

Now they both laughed. Puschel put the extra cup on the garden table. There it could not get into anyone’s lane.

“Three cups are enough,” said Flauschi. “And we can start a bit closer.”

They both moved to the same end. While Flauschi took the ball, Puschel waited to one side, outside its path. Flauschi let it go slowly. It nudged the front pumpkin cup. The cup wobbled, turned a little and stayed upright.

“It only looked round,” said Puschel.

Flauschi nodded. “Perhaps it wanted to see who had knocked.”

On the next try, the ball rolled in a small curve. One cup tipped over. Puschel was about to hurry towards it, but waited until the ball had stopped too.

They stood the cup up again. Then they decided not to keep score at the party. Anyone who wanted could have a roll. Anyone who preferred watching could look at the funny cup faces.

Yesterday’s paper pumpkins still hung on the house. The three bats swayed on the fence. Puschel glanced at the empty cup on the table.

“You can watch too,” he said. “But you’re staying out of the target today.”