Corn Maze

 She took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of smoke and corn and ink. No one had found them yet.

Then the footsteps started. "We know where you are!" a man yelled. Her heart began to pound, and her throat constricted with fear.

"Do we run?" her sister asked.

"I think we've got to hide," she replied.

"But where?" her sister asked, tears forming in her eyes. "Surely they know this corn better than we do."

She looked around desperately, wondering where she and her sister could hide. Then she saw it -- a gap in the corn stalks that would fit them both. "In there!"

Clutching the papers to their chests, they wedged themselves in the sheaves as far as they could. "Please don't let there be any earwigs," she prayed silently.

Footsteps pounded in sync with her heart. "Once we find you, we're going to burn up that Book of Commandments of yours," they said with a sneer. They then cackled and revved their chainsaws, adding exhaust to the scents in the air.

"Those don't really have blades in them," she reassured her sister. Once the men were gone, they tumbled out of the corn stalks.

"C'mon, I think I know how to get out," her sister said. "Let's just slip through all the stalks. That'll be the most direct way out."

She wasn't sure they were allowed to do that, but at this point she didn't care. They abandoned the path entirely and took a straight course out of the cornfield. The dry sheaves scratched her face and left her feeling sneezy, but she preferred it to being chased on the path.

Finally, they could see the end of this maze. They ran out, still clutching the papers, and dropped them in a blue plastic tub.

"Made it!" they yelled.

"Five minutes and thirty seconds! That's a new record," said the woman at a folding table. "Nice job, Maddie and Katie!" She looked at the girls intently. "Your bodies are both shaking! Do you need to sit by the fire to warm up?"

"No, I think it's just adrenaline," Maddie replied. "It's not every day that you get chased by an angry mob."

"It sure isn't! Well, you should still have some cider. Hot drinks are good for the belly tonight."

***

After years of organizing the ward trunk or treat, Sister Olsen decided it was time to try something new for Halloween this year. "Church activities should be gospel centered," she told the ward council. "There is nothing about trunk or treat that teaches children about their cultural heritage. At least regular trick-or-treating prepares them for tracting!"

Some of the council were hesitant at first, especially the creative types who looked forward to decorating the trunks of their minivans with monster eyes and streamers. But Sister Olsen promised that their creativity would still be put to good use.

"My nephew has a corn maze and cider mill just ten minutes outside of town," she explained. "We could use it for the night and give it some church history flair! It could be haunted by an angry mob!"

"Like Mary Elizabeth and Caroline Rollins with the Book of Commandments?" the Primary President asked.

"Just like that!"

And so the preparations for the ward Halloween party began. Various members of the ward activity committee took on various assignments -- purchasing dry beans and a barrel to hide some metal plates in for a wagon ride, printing several copies of the Book of Commandments for the corn maze, finding enough extension cords for the Quakers on the Moon bounce house, tracking down metal hangers to straighten out for some good old fashioned dowsing, and creating Church-history themed decorations for the venue.

"It's giving Gilgal sculpture garden," Rob said to his wife as they examined her papier mache sculpture of Joseph Smith's face on top of a pyramid.

"Ancient Egypt was the only spooky thing I could think of that fit with a gospel theme," she said apologetically. "Hopefully it rains the night of the party so it will get ruined before anyone sees it."

But it was a clear night when all of the minivans showed up at the corn maze. Some of them had secretly stashed candy just in case the kids needed a spontaneous trunk or treat.

So far, though, everyone seemed happy with the planned events. Those who weren't interested in corn mazes or wagon rides were content to chat about the results of their Day of the Dead Relative Finder searches, exchanging stories about shared ancestors and laughing off old feuds.

Sister Olsen smiled triumphantly. This activity would go down in ward history.

Then she heard a kid yell. "Hey! This horehound candy is gross! Why aren't there any Milky Ways?"

"Just spit it in the trash, and get some cider," his mom said. Spit it out he did, but just in the grass.

Meanwhile, there was a ruckus going on in the corn maze. "Give us the chainsaws back!" one of the mobbers yelled.

"No!" There was the sound of a scuffle, then a yelp of pain. "I think I dislocated my thumb!" someone yelled.

Then Sister Olsen heard more angry voices. "No, my great-grandpa didn't take the field wrongly. It was his brother, your great-grandpa, who tried to take it from him! You have the story all wrong!"

Maybe it was time to turn on some music and teach square dancing, Sister Olsen thought. She turned the speakers on, and after a loud pop, there was silence and darkness. She had overloaded the circuit and tripped the breaker. The bounce house began to deflate, and she heard kids scream. Parents scrambled to turn the electricity back on, and soon thankfully all was calm again.

A committee member walked up to her with a metal bowl. "I brought some Milky Ways in case the kids didn't like the horehound. Would you like one?"

Sister Olsen nodded. "I think we'll do the Trunk or Treat again next year."