Corn

The cloak of heat covered the shores along the river.

It was noon, and a flock of children came running and crying, breaking the ease of the heavy afternoon, jumping into the warm waters or hanging from a rope tied to a tree bough that protruded into the river before letting them to fall in the middle of the brown waters, while some old guys with their rods and fishhooks approached the south bend down the river knowing that the noisy kids will frighten the fish toward them.

Roland was coming through the corn field using a small lane open between the tall plants making  the leaves, ears of corns, and the crest tremble when he moved between them.

He was in the middle of the field when thought he saw a movement to the left of the tiers of stems. Stopping and making a effort he could see a beautiful girl clad in a soft dress with printed ears of corn in it. He was amazed of the incredible beauty of the girl and tried to approach her but she was lost in the maze of plants before he could take more than two paces in her direction.

For a second he thought to follow the girl full of perfume of new corn, but he did not want to arrive late to Mère Odille's house, it was Wednesday and it was the day she baked her famous pone and prepared the best tea in the region mixing herbs known only to her.

He arrived the hut and greeted Mère as always: Salut, Mère!

She was busy in her kitchen and with a quick glance to the boy answered: Salut, Roland! Comment vas tu, gosse?

Fine!, just fine, Roland reverted to English, trying not to show his lack of knowledge of the old country language, and added quickly: It seems there are new people in town!

Why you say that? asked Mère Odille, curiously. She was the depository of all town gossip and didn't know about new people in town!

Because I saw an unknown very beautiful girl a moment ago in the corn field. Roland could not express how beautiful she was.

How was she dressed?, Mère Odille asked what seems an idle questions.

She has a light dress full of corn ears and the smell of fresh corn all over, continued Roland in an enthusiastic comment.

Mère Odille suspended her chore and looking into the eyes of Roland said: It was not new people in town, Roland! It is the soul of the corn, and appeared as a  handsome man to young girls or as a gorgeous girl to young boys to lure them into the field and feed new blood and life to the plants.

You must keep away from the corn field, gosse! You have been selected, that is why you saw the soul of the corn as a beautiful girl. It will try to trap you into the sown field. Promise you won't enter the place ever until after the harvest!

Yes, mère, Roland was a bit confused so he made a half promise, how could such a beautiful girl be a handsome man at times! It seemed more of the superstition hold for the cajun people!

The day passed slowly but finally after eating the last pone and drinking the last tea in the kitchen, Roland prepared to go back home.

Mère Odille reconvene again to Roland: Remember, gosse. Do not enter the corn field, just walk on its borders and do not accept any invitation into the plants, no matter how beautiful the person who is calling you is!

Yes, mère! Roland was full of good tea and pone so he answered lightly, and started his walk home.

The first hundred paces were easy and uneventful, but as soon as Roland started to walk the rim of the field there was a small, almost imperceptible movement near the borderline plants and the beautiful girl appeared at Roland side.

He was speechless, the beauty of the lass was incredible, she took Roland's hand and guided him toward the center of the field, here there was a soft place with warm dirt around, she made Roland to step into the soft spot and caressed gently his hair, his arms, his crest, his corn ears, its leaves, and let it moving slowly following the other plants motions, all the field seemed happy and full of life, time passed and silence covered the area.

The heat was very heavy but night was coming, boys and veterans started to come back from the river with a healthy supper in mind.

While the last dragonflies looked for a place to let the night went by, the hot waves were reluctantly dying in the arms of the last light of the day sunbeams.  


The music is a fragment of "The Corn Field" composed by Epic Hybr.


© 2013 Od Liam.