Rain slid down the pickup’s window like tears. In the backseat, Seal watched her sister talk to a doll named Paintchip, again. “Are we almost there?” she asked, peeling her face from her book.
“Almost,” her dad replied. “Look for the signs.” Their dad drove towards Happy’s Hayride. Hand drawn signs wilted in the rain. “Watch your sister. Never let her out of your sight,” he instructed his oldest daughter.
Seal acknowledged him with a nod into his rear-view mirror. She began talking to her sister but he could not hear them over the noisy engine.
Beth responded in ventriloquy through Paintchip. No one had a clue why she named it such an odd name.
Seal giggled in response.
“Dad, is it going to be really scary?” Beth asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
“Not for you, sweetie. You’re brave,” he replied. He gave her a reassuring smile they couldn’t, but they could hear it in his voice.
“It’s a kiddie ride. No big scares. I’ll protect you.” Seal said, giving her sister’s hand a gentle squeeze.
Beth nodded, trying to muster a smile, but the knot in her stomach remained. She wished dad would ride too, but the sisters had agreed this was their outing.
Their dad handed Seal some money. “Have fun. Get a treat to share.”
The two sisters lunged forward and hugged him from behind. “Thank you, Daddy.” Seal pushed hard on the door. Its hinges groaned. A light drizzle fell on her head as she helped Beth down. The two ran off, leaving their dad behind.
Soon after, Beth gripped a marshmallow treat shaped like a witch’s hat. Chocolate covered most of her chin. Seal used her sleeve to clean it up like her mom had done so many times for her.
A tractor idled ahead; rust stains crept out from the seams of its green hood. The sisters climbed aboard the back of the hay wagon and once full, the rear gates crashed together. The tractor lurched forward, nearly spilling them off the straw bale seats.
“Seal, I can’t see daddy’s truck anymore,” Beth said, using her doll voice. She wobbled the doll back and forth in her hand as she spoke through it. Beth called her sister “Seal” because Cecile was too hard to say.
“He’s there waiting for us.” She reached out and squeezed Beth’s hand, which grasped the soft hide that clothed Paintchip. The doll and younger girl never separated.
They both wore costumes. Seal dressed like a lamb, the same costume as last year. It made her feel childish.
Beth was a campfire, with felt flames and cotton pompoms on the twig ends meant to look like marshmallows.
Their mom made their costumes. She had sewn Paintchip as well. Sewing was her hobby, but she wouldn’t win any prizes at the county fair for it.
Beth kneeled, wide eyed, peering hard into the hazy distance. She used Paintchip again to speak. “Seal, I think I see someone.” Her knees scratched against the hay bale, as she faced outwards.
“You have not. It hasn’t started yet,” Seal answered. “Sit down and be careful!” Seal pulled her little sister down hard next to her.
Beth pouted for only a moment. “I still think I saw something,” the doll voice said again.
Seal knew the attraction did not start until they passed between the grain silos; one painted, ‘Danger!’ and the other painted ‘Turn Back’, the ‘a’ painted like a skull. The other kids in the wagon sat with their parents, except for one boy sitting alone in the front. Seal knew him. His name was Javin.
When they first climbed into the wagon, Javin waved at them and motioned to sit with him. Seal shook her head and settled at the back of the wagon instead. His mom must have stayed behind in her car, thankful for the break. They were the same age, but Javin was immature.
“Javin is a silly boy,” Beth said, recognizing their neighbor.
“Javin is an annoying boy,” Seal replied. She avoided looking his way. He had already lost interest in the sisters and focused on the spinning tires. Little flecks of mud rained on him.
The tractor passed the silos. Two scarecrows staggered out of the cornfield and the tractor squealed to a stop. One wore blue overalls, and the other, a red flannel shirt.
“Can’t you read?” the blue one shouted at the wagon.
“I can’t read,” the other said, an exaggerated drawl to his voice. “I’m a scarecrow. I got no ears.”
“I said read, ya dullard. You don’t read with ears, you hear with ’em. And besides, I was talking…” He pointed exaggeratedly towards the hayride, “to these people HERE,” emphasizing the last word.
“I says I can’t!” the dumb red scarecrow replied.
“No here. H-E-R-E.” He reached into his blue overalls and pulled out two ears of corn. “But if you insist, here are your ears!” He handed them to the red scarecrow and walked out of sight, shooing away the nonsense behind him. Only some of the kids laughed.
“Thanks, old fellow,” the red flannel scarecrow said, suddenly pretending to be smart. He raised the corn to the sides of his head. “What my companion meant to say is stay in your seats and remember rule number one. Do not touch anyone and they will not touch you. No meanness allowed!”
He pointed at Beth. “Little girl, what is rule number one?” Beth shrunk against her older sister. He hopped onto the back of the hayride. Some children gasped. “Who is in charge of this girl?”
“I am!” Seal raised her hand.
He smiled. “Please tell your sister about rule number one.”
“Don’t touch anyone.”
“Correctomundo! Don’t touch anyone in the cornfield, and they will not touch you. What is rule number two?”
No one could answer before his blue overall companion leaped onto the front of the wagon, again scaring some children. “Have fun,” he called out.
The scarecrows hopped off and waved. The tractor revved, shifted into gear, and continued deeper into the cornfield. Beth relaxed, moving further from her sister.
The ride went as Seal remembered. Beth enjoyed it, laughing and gasping throughout, though the bits were silly. Half way through, cackling witches performed over a smoking cauldron. One witch asked Beth for her marshmallows for the s’mores. The riders laughed. Beth enjoyed being the center of attention, but blushed anyway.
At the end of the ride, the tractor turned towards the return road. Another farm worker waved the driver down using a bright flashlight, its beam reflecting across the misty rain. He said something to the driver too low to be heard.
The driver faced the riders. “Alright, the service road is flooded. We’re going to take a quick detour.” He wiped the rain from his face. “We’ll have you back soon.”
The tractor turned the opposite way along the fencing marking the property. Parents hugged their children close as they bounced over the rough ground. Everyone grew quiet.
They turned from the fence line. It disappeared into the darkness. Javin stared at Seal, a blank expression on his face. Seal thought he looked creepy, but really he was worried.
The tractor jumped, making a farump sound. The engine whirred out of gear, and it jerked to the left. The driver stopped the vehicle, applying the hand brake.
“Just a rock. I think. Let me make sure everything is alright.” He hopped off his seat and checked the connections. The brake lights flickered as he wiggled the wires.
“I see something,” Beth said, again using Paintchip as her voice. She peered over the guardrail into the rainy dark.
Seal turned to tell Beth to sit, but a man jumped from between the cornstalks and screamed. His voice hurt Beth’s ears, and she covered them. Her dad never yelled that loud, even in a rare mood of anger.
“Off! Get out of here! This is my land!” The wild-looking man wore a ratty hat. He carried a long object in his arms. “Get off!” he yelled. “I ain’t gonna warn again.” He approached the back of the trailer. Seal pulled Beth down and they ducked below the wood guardrail.
The driver peered from the edge of the trailer. “Sir, calm down. I made a bad turn. We’re going! Stay cal…”
The man lowered the object he cradled in his arms. Seal thought it must be a gun. The tractor jolted forward, leaving the crazed man behind in its wake. He continued yelling. Children cried in their parents’ arms.
Beth looked at Seal, “I told you I saw something.” She didn’t use Paintchip’s voice this time. Seal responded with a glare.
As they sped off, the tractor slid sideways against the deep mud. Panicked, the driver saved them from one calamity but led them into another.
The wheel lost its grip, slipping into an embankment, spilling the tractor sideways. It stopped abruptly throwing the driver from his rusty seat.
The wagon, the hay bales and the passengers continued their forward momentum, flipping over the tractor.
Seal felt weightless for several seconds before hitting the ground hard. A hay bale landed on her. It scratched her arms and pinned her into the muck.
The bale pressed Seal’s face into the mud, some oozed into her mouth and coated her tongue. It tasted like chalk. She tried turning her head to look for Beth, but the hay bale held her fast. The pressure on her chest made it impossible to take a deep breath. She tried to scream, but couldn’t make any noise.
Someone pushed the straw bale from above. It rolled over her, across her left arm. She pulled against it, bracing with her legs to free herself. She took several deep breaths. Javin stood above her and held out his hands to help her stand. “Are you okay, Seal?”
She ignored him and crawled towards the overturned wreckage. “Beth!” she called, over and over. Her hands slipped into the mud as she ambled forward. She grasped something squishy and pulled it out.
Deep down she knew what she had found. She pulled the doll from the mud. Paintchip. Then everything went black.