I wake up half-leaning against the side of a wall. I try to sit up, but my arms won’t move. It looks like they’re wrapped in corn husks?
Then, like waking up from the world’s crummiest dream, I remember.
I try to shake my legs, but they’re also covered in husks.
Panic flares and I wonder if I have permanent nerve damage. I take slow breaths in and out.
Focus on my surroundings.
I skip over that thought as soon as it comes, but another two rush to take its place.
Where are the corn people? What do they want with me?
Before I can skip over those thoughts too, the front of the barn rattles. Part of me needs to know what it is, but a larger part is terrified.
I close my eyes and pretend I’m still asleep.
I listen closely as soft footfalls get closer. I try to make my face seem as peaceful as possible.
“Robyn? What are you doing here? What is this?”
She hushes me and looks back over toward the doors. “If they hear you’re awake they’ll come back.” She’s got mud everywhere. There’s twigs in her hair, and she’s got an axe. I’ve never been happier to see her. She bends down, but then stops and becomes serious, “You didn’t eat the corn, did you?”
She sighs with relief. “It has some sort of hive-mind, that deteriorates you from the inside out. I’m actually studying it right now, it’s very interesting. It may even have the capability to change your DNA.”
“Are you telling me I could have become a corn person?”
“Maybe. We can talk about that later. Right now, I need to get these things off of you.” She carefully pulls one off my arm. It’s like she’s ripping off bandaids excruciatingly slow. She puts them into a plastic ziplock. “It looks like they learned their lesson. When they put me in here they only did my legs.”
She carefully pulls off another. “You’re probably wondering what’s going on…”
“Yeah you could say that.” I shake my working arm.
“My investigation into canola radiation was just the tip of the iceberg. I thought it was weird, so I traced where they get their soil from to here. I have to run some more tests, but so far the existence of these corn things is disproving almost everything we know about plant based life forms.”
“Dad’s been worried sick about you, you know?” She looks briefly guilty. “Let’s get out of here. We can talk on the road.”
“I can’t leave, I need more samples. The data I’m collecting could change the way we think about life.”
“Yeah, that sounds great, except for the part where you sound legitimately insane.”
“I’ll help you get to your car, but then I’m staying here.”
“You’re throwing your life away to live with sentient corn?” She looks unfazed. I know what I have to do, and I regret knowing that she’s a sucker for speeches.
“Come on, don’t you wonder what else is out there. If this is real what else could be? Come home, talk to dad. Then, you can hang out with all the plants you want.”
She looks pensive so I add,“What are you even living off of out here anyways?”
This seems to strike a chord. “Trail-mix. But what if someone else gets stuck here like you?”
She’s got a point. I think about it as she helps me up. “I’ve got a full tank of gas, and we only need half of it to get home.”
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