People rode in on horseback.
Their metal clothes clanked and clattered. Their helmets bounced about, the soldiers snarling, showed their teeth, bugs flying into their mouths as they rode. They didn’t seem to mind, not like Tim used to when he ran too fast. Tim would always stop, spit the bugs out and start gagging, but these ones were far too busy being scary.
I wasn’t the only one who saw them coming.
The door of Grandpa’s house flew open and Lily bolted for the corn. She must have wanted to hide, but the soldiers, they spotted her too. I think it got them mad. They kicked their horses, making them go faster and they charged into the field, trampling stalks to the ground.
What could I do? My job was to watch over everything, and while I could hang onto my post watching as they hurt the corn, maybe hurting Lily too, was it right to do nothing?
It was my job, being still, being quiet, listening and watching, but I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t sure what would happen if they chased Lily off. Sure the quiet was nice, and I liked all the little sounds of the world, but I didn’t want to be alone. I wasn’t sure what it’d be like, and not knowing made it worse.
With that, I made a choice. Not watching, listening, or thinking, I did. Lifting my arms off the cross beam I yanked at the knots that tied me to my post, and for the first time I dropped from the safety of being raised up and out of the mud. I fell from my place with a snap and a splat, something in my legs breaking, the red sticky mud squishing up between my toes.
My farmer was gone, and Lily was in trouble. So, with only the corn watching, I lifted my leg and set it forward. Heavy head and light body the earth under my feet pulled me down. It dragged me on, my pumpkin falling further ahead.
Throwing my body forward, trying to keep my pumpkin balanced, it instead rolled back. I fell, without falling down, going one way, and catching myself, my head would go the other. It happened over and over, and all the while I heard the corn getting chopped, soldiers thinning the field. It was corn I couldn’t save.
Each and every sound of corn being chopped down echoed through my sticks. My arms and legs quivered, bundles of twigs clenched tight at the thought of what a cut down Lily might sound like. So, grabbing my post I pulled myself up and stood straight.
Trying to keep my head balanced, I let go of my post and took a step towards the corn. Doing so, my legs refused do as I said. I stumbled, fell forward, and with nothing to grab onto, legs not listening, ground getting closer, a woman charged from the stalks in front of me.
My hands reached out to stop my fall and my fingers grabbed hold. They wrapped around her neck, the stranger keeping me up, keeping me from hitting the ground, and lifting my head we came eye to eye.
She held a sword in one hand, all set to chop corn, and around the edges of her helmet poked stray bits of curly red hair. I still held her neck though. I held on good and tight. If I didn’t I’d surely fall and crack my pumpkin, but as we stood there, looking at each other, her green eyes widened. They looked ready to pop out; just as Lily’s had the day I’d waved.
The soldier, she peeked right into my cut-out head, and then she looked down over my body of sticks and twigs. Her mouth flapped open, and dropping her sword she said, “What the?”
“Hello,” I said back with a big smile.
She squirmed, and lifting her hands, pressed them into my middle. She gave me a shove, the push knocking me back, the earth pulling me down again. I heard her scream something then, something about magic, about monsters, but I didn’t have time to listen.
