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Okay, thought Kate, this looks bad.
Lucky had done pretty well on the trip out of New York so far, really. He'd shown every sign of being thrilled about getting to ride in the car, and when they'd left the city, he'd looked like he was trying to smell everything at once. As they left Staten Island -- Google had told her to go via Jersey City and Newark, but forget that, Google, a girl had standards! -- and headed west towards Bridgewater, though, his initial excitement had morphed into uncertainty. He'd curled up on the footwell of the passenger seat where one of Clint's grody sweatshirts had somehow wound up, and started whining.
And whining.
And whining.
She'd broken Clint's dog. He was, oh crap, was he trembling? "Clint," she announced to the empty air, "your dog is broken. And trembling. I'm still not sorry."
He needed a distraction. She needed a distraction. The whining was starting to drown out the sweet playlist of classic road song music she'd compiled. She grabbed a squeaky toy from the seat next to her and waved it at the dog.
"Look, Lucky. Squeaky pizza toy! You love squeaky pizza toy!"
Lucky regarded the squeaky pizza toy mournfully and stopped whining. Kate sighed in relief and considered the odds of finding a vet willing to prescribe a dog a sedative out in Middle-Of-Nowhere, Pennsylvania.
"AroooOooooOOOOOOOOOOoooo," Lucky howled. Kate banged her head on the steering wheel.
The family in the van that had been pacing them was giving her dirty looks and clearly contemplating calling the police over suspected animal abuse when she passed a series of billboard.
"CLASSIC CORN MAZE!!!!" it said, in bright yellow lettering on green. Was that - she squinted -- yes, it was actually a font made out of corn. The following billboards divulged that it was a FUN FAMILY DAY OUT!!!! with LOTS OF ACTIVITIES!!!! and PETS WELCOME!!!! and, finally, that she would BE A-MAZED!!!!
The exclamation marks were a tad concerning, but it was allegedly only a few miles down the side road at the next exit, she could use the chance to stretch her legs, and Lucky was a) still howling and b) eyeing up the passenger seat to judge its possible suitability as a place to pee. Anyway, a corn maze was real Americana, wasn't it. Real road-trip stuff. Girl and her dog, having perfectly normal adventures that didn't involve aliens or time travel or, or, guys in tasteless tracksuits, or idiot bosses. Yeah.
"Okay, Lucky," said Kate, and took the exit at full speed. "This looks good."
It looked good, all right, but the price seemed high. Not that she was too experienced with average corn maze prices, but the mother of the large family that exited the maze just as she was entering seemed put out about something. Lucky, on the other hand, had turned from Mopey McLonelyhound into the Happiest Dog On The Planet, pulling this way and that on the leash as he tried to smell everything at once. He was eating something. Was that --? A grasshopper. Ew.
The grass under her feet was dry and crackly as Lucky dragged her into the maze. Maybe she should run back to the car and grab a bottle of water. Despite the wind rustling through the corn, the day was punishingly hot and she was starting to sweat. She turned around and blinked at the solid wall of corn behind her. She'd just come that way – hadn't she? She looked left. More corn. Right. Even more corn. She turned in a circle. Just the one path, deeper into the maze. As she watched, the corn rustled again and shifted slightly to the left.
Lucky whined and trotted in a circle, tangling her up in his leash. The corn... didn't clear its throat. It didn't. Nope. It did, however, straighten up in a way that demanded attention, and proclaim:
LISTEN! HEAR the mighty footsteps of Kate,
Purple-wearer, bow-wielder, defeater of villains,
friend to heroes, lover of chocolate!
Feel the sheaves tremble at her passing,
how their tasslesilk falls to the ground
how the ground shakes under her groundsailors!
“Unholy fuckity,” said Kate, and then: "Groundsailors, seriously?"
"It's a kenning," huffed one of the ears of corn to her left. "Classical technique. What are you, a philistine?"
"A phili -- you're corn." Kate looked around again to see if she could see a hidden camera. No such luck, and now the corn was looking offended.
"That doesn't mean we're stupid! Being a vegetable is no excuse for cultural illiteracy."
Kate raised an eyebrow. Then she lowered it again. Corn didn't have eyes, for crying out loud. It couldn't see her eyebrows.
The cornfield definitely cleared its throat this time. Which was odd, thought Kate, given that it didn't have a throat, but she'd seen and heard weirder things. Weird was what she did, after all. She could do this. She turned the corner, and was greeted with another corn chorus.
HEARKEN! SEE her loyal hound,
Mighty as his Mistress! Eater of pizza,
Chewer of shoes, vanquisher of furniture!
Behold how his fur shines like wheat!
Feel the sharpness of his tracksuit-tearers!
How nobly he scratches,
How his claws seek the bloodsuckers,
the itchers! How they flee!
“-- he does not have fleas,” muttered Kate, stomping around another corner. Lucky followed, pausing to scratch himself. She was going to ignore the corn. This was not her problem. She would find her way out, text... text someone whose problem it could be, and then drive to California. Easy-peasy. And she would live there happily, with this stupid dog, who would stop whining and pining away for his stupid idiot of an owner. There was a trick to mazes, wasn't there? Keep one hand against the outside wall and follow the wall around.
“Ooh,” said the corn. “That tickles!”
“I am ignoring you,” said Kate.
How she hardens her heart, unheeding!
How her footsteps resound, how her footwear
slaps against her soles, how she scowls!
How she travels, dauntless, through the maze,
uncaring of the dangers ahead!
She knows not of the minotaur --
Kate came to a halt, and Lucky yelped as the leash pulled him up short.
“Wait, what? Minotaur? No. No, I am not fighting a minotaur. I am wearing flip-flops. My bow is in the trunk of the car. All I have is a leash. I am not equipped for a minotaur.” Dimly, she realized that she should maybe be a little incredulous at the idea of a minotaur in a tourist-trap corn maze in Whoknewwhere, Pennsylvania, but at this point she was beyond incredulity. Talking corn, after all. Now that the corn mentioned it, she could hear something big moving around on the other side of the cornstalks. And -- she sniffed – smell it, too. Ew.
“Okay, Hawkeye,” she said out loud to herself. “You've got a faithful hound. You have your wits. You have a leash you can use as a garrotte. You have the best classical education money can buy. Grab it by the horns and leap, like on the vases.”
She turned the corner, and blinked. There was a minotaur, sure enough. It was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and carrying a flag. It was... maybe five feet tall.
“HI THERE,” it boomed. “YOU MUST BE KATE!”
Lucky, the stupid dog, ran up to it and sniffed its kneecap.
“Yes. Kate. That's me. Er... pleased to meet you, Mr. Minotaur?”
The minotaur laughed. She could see steam rising from its nostrils. It was very disconcerting.
“NO, NO, I'M --”
“Mister,” said Kate. “I don't know how your day is going, but my day has involved a magic corn maze, a howling dog, and traffic fumes. My head is starting to kill me. Please tone it down.”
It did.
“I'm not the Minotaur,” it whispered. “I'm the mini-tour. Er, guide. Mini-tour-guide. If you'll follow me?”
FOLLOW her path as she tails the beast,
tawny-furred, golden-eyed,
red of nostril and bloody of maw!
HEAR her shrieks as her toes are crushed
beneath its massive hooves,
black and heavy as iron!
“I AM SO SORRY, MISS!”
“It's fine,” gritted Kate. “Let's just get this over with.”
“Okay! If you look to your right, you'll see some Early Golden Bantam corn.”
“Hi!” chirped the Early Golden Bantam Corn.
“This corn's an heirloom variety and dates from 1902! Now, around this corner...”
Three long, corn-filled hours later, the mini-tour-guide ushered Kate out of the maze, wishing her a safe journey. She staggered, hollow-eyed, over to a family of innocents about to enter the maze and grabbed the father by the lapels.
“Do not go in there.”
“Lady, I already paid. My kids have been looking forward to this for the last twenty miles.”
“Just... don't. Trust me on this.”
He wrenched out of her grip and, with his family, disappeared into the maze.
“I warned you!” Kate yelled after him. “Don't say I didn't warn you!” Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she headed for her car. There was tylenol in her car. And water. She was parched. There was corn dust in her nose. Maybe corn dust under her eyelids. She did not want to think about it. Even Lucky was drooping. She poured some water from a bottle into a bowl for him and chugged the rest. She was reaching for a second bottle when she realized that there was a car parked next to hers, a sleek green sedan with gold accents. Leaning against it was --
“You,” she snarled. “You did this to me. The corn. The minotaur. The... the SAGA.”
Loki held up his hands defensively and sidled around so that his car was between them. “I just wanted you to have some fun,” he said.
“Fun? You think that was fun?”
“Oh, come on! It was a little funny.”
“No. No, it was not. And don't make big eyes at me. You're not a little kid anymore, it's not cute. Lucky! Come!”
From the safety of the car, Kate glared at Loki. “There is a Blue Whale I am going to see. When I get there, it had better be an inanimate object. I do not want it to talk to me. I do not want it to swim around. I do not want it to do anything than be a kitschy bit of Americana and maybe something for my dog to pee on. Is that clear?”
She had the satisfaction of seeing Loki cringe a little, and very deliberately didn't quite run him over as she hit reverse and peeled out of her parking space. Lucky, all woes forgotten, sat in the passenger seat with his tongue flapping in the breeze. She turned right and headed for the highway.
The open road. Giant balls of twine. Blue skies. Chances of catching amoebic dysentery from rest-stop toilets. Her custom road-trip mix. Truck stops. This looked good.