In the Corn Maze
Flash fiction
Cody hates the corn maze.
It’s hot and dry and dusty. Corn stalks reach for the sky, desiccated leaves rattling against one another in the wind like muted castanets. The sun is setting soon, already veiled behind the rows upon rows of corn, only a tendril of fading light here and there between the stalks. Cody turns right again, his shoes kicking up tiny dust devils with each step. Beneath his t-shirt, a drop of sweat trails down his spine into the waistband of his jeans. The scent of dry grass and dust tickles his nose. Beneath it, he can just make out the smell of the hot oil and caramel beyond the corn maze and the thought of fresh fried mini donuts and funnel cakes quickens his steps.
Where is Al anyways? They’d agreed to meet at the maze entrance, and he’d been there just before Cody arrived. Cody saw him grinning at him over the other fairgoers’ heads. But then, Al winked and ducked into the maze, silently daring Cody to follow, to chase him down.
After a day spent haying in the heat, Cody is tired and hungry and thirsty, and not really in the mood to wander among the corn stalks, hunting his mischievous boyfriend. He just wants a cup of apple cider and a mess of deep fried food and somewhere to sit in the shade. Preferably with Al sitting next to him.
As Cody rounds another corner, Al jumps out right next to him and whispers, “Boo!”
Cody tries to glare at him, but Al’s sunny smile doesn’t falter. In contrast to Cody’s grubby work clothes, Al is dazzling in creased black jeans that look brand new, a light blue button-up, and a white Stetson. Like a rhinestone cowboy. He’s beautiful. Cody knows Al works as hard as anyone. He just likes to dress up when he’s on his own time.
Draping his arms around Cody’s neck, Al says, “Hi.”
Cody can’t help smiling back at him. “Hi yourself. Were you stalking me?”
Al’s eyes widen, and then he snorts and sags forward to rest his forehead on Cody’s shoulder. “You’re so corny.”
“Yep.” Cody’s lips twitch. “There’s a kernel of truth there for sure.”
Giggling helplessly, Al retorts, “Aw, shucks.”
Biting his lip to stop himself from laughing as well, Cody says, “I think I’m already lost in here. How do we get out? Play it by ear?”
Still laughing, Al steps back and grabs Cody’s hand. “Come on. We just keep turning right. That’s how you get out of a maze.”
“A maize maze,” Cody murmurs as he follows Al.
Al flashes a bright grin over his shoulder, and Cody feels like he just won something. Something even better than caramel apples and deep fried ice cream. He’s changed his mind: he loves the corn maze.
Esther learned to read when she was four years old, and began writing shortly thereafter. She is a queer Christian poet, crafting with words to create art and music.
This story is a response to the Prism & Pen writing prompt, Sweet Fields of Queer Corn.