Maybe This Time

by Kasie West

  I was beginning to wonder if Andrew was still talking about Gunnar.

  “I can certainly expect a kid not to run through a cooking site and trip over all the cords,” Jett snapped.

  “If he tripped over the cords, that’s on you,” Andrew said.

  His dad’s face was getting redder by the second. Was he going to blow a fuse?

  “Andrew, you will shut your mouth right this instant,” he thundered.

  I reached out for Gunnar’s hand but my hand only met air. I looked over to see that he was gone. “Where did Gunnar go?” I asked, looking all around.

  “Actually, I won’t,” Andrew responded to his dad.

  “My brother,” I said louder. “Did anyone see where he went?” A good crowd had formed around the spectacle, but everyone just shook their heads. My eyes met Micah’s. She was standing on the outskirts of the group, and she pointed to the maze.

  “My brother went into the maze,” I said to Andrew.

  “What?” His attention finally turned to me.

  “My brother ran off to the maze. I need to go find him.”

  “I’m coming with you,” Andrew said.

  “You are doing nothing of the sort,” Jett said from behind us, but both of us were already running toward the maze entrance.

  “You okay?” I asked Andrew as we ran.

  “Not really,” Andrew responded, voice tight.

  I heard footsteps behind us and turned to see Micah. “I’ll help,” she said.

  I nodded at her. Neither of us mentioned the fight we’d had minutes before. It was obviously going to take more than a talk to fix the gulf that had opened up between us.

  We reached the entrance to the maze and all barreled inside. We came to the end of the first stretch and the path split two ways.

  “I’ll go right,” Micah said. “I’ll text you if I find him.”

  Andrew and I turned left.

  “Does this maze have any of those platform things that you can climb and try to orient yourself?” he asked, glancing around.

  I pointed. In the middle of the maze, far from where we stood, was a wooden deck.

  “Okay, we’ll try to make it there,” he said.

  I nodded. My throat was too tight to speak.

  “You know he’s going to be fine, right?” Andrew said. “He’s somewhere in here. And there are other people in here too. He’ll eventually find his way out.”

  I nodded again, a million emotions swirling through me. We came to another split in the path.

  “I’ll go left,” I said, and started to move.

  Andrew grabbed me by the hand and pulled me into a hug. “I’m sorry, Sophie,” he said. “For how my dad treated you, and for what Micah said, and about what happened with your mom earlier. And that your little brother is probably really upset right now. I’m so sorry.”

  It had been quite a night, I realized, when he spelled it all out like that. “It’s not your fault.” I felt suddenly numb. “I need to go find my brother.” I pushed him away. “I just need to go find my brother.” I stumbled away down the left path. Andrew didn’t follow, which I was happy about.

  There was something about walking through a dark maze, surrounded by tall stalks of corn, all alone, that had my brain turning over everything I had ever said or done for the last … seventeen years. Was Micah right? Had I been prejudiced against everyone and everything in this town? Had it colored my relationship with my mother? Was wanting change, wanting a bigger life so wrong? My mom had applied for a scholarship for me and I’d gotten it. Would it be dumb not to at least consider it?

  “It’s because she doesn’t believe you can succeed, Sophie,” I muttered to myself. I was sure I hadn’t colored that fact anything but the right shade.

  I’d admit to one thing: I never really gave the guys around here a real chance. And Micah was right; it was because I knew I wanted to move on. As for the rest of the town, what little there was of it, I thought I always gave it a pretty fair shake. I’d been participating in every tradition and event for as long as I could remember. Sure, I was now being paid to do it, but that hadn’t always been the case.

  I heard a noise around a corner up ahead.

  “Gunnar?” I called out. The Carter boys rounded the bend and went running by me laughing. “Have y’all seen Gunnar?” I yelled after them. They didn’t answer.

  I sighed and kept walking.

  My brain wouldn’t shut off. Micah wasn’t perfect either. She’d obviously kept these feelings about me all bottled up for years without sharing them. She couldn’t hold my dad’s decisions against me. She couldn’t hold on to that so tight, as though it was hers to hold on to. She couldn’t feel worse about my dad than I did. I swiped at a tear that escaped from my eye. Micah and I were fighting. Fighting for real. And I wasn’t sure how to fix it.

  I came to another fork and went left again. If I kept going left, would that take me in a big circle or just on a different path than Andrew?

  “Gunnar!” I shouted again.

  Silence.

  My phone buzzed with a call and I picked it up without looking at the screen. “Did you find him?”

  “What happened?” It was my mom.

  “Gunnar ran into the maze alone because Jett yelled at him for knocking over the fryer.”

  There was silence on the other end for so long that I pulled my phone away from my ear to check and see if we had been disconnected. She was still there.

  “It was an accident, Mom. No need to get mad at him. I’ll find him and you can take him home.”

  “Jett Hart yelled at Gunnar?” Her voice was ice.

  “Yes,” I responded quietly.

  “Oh, I’m gonna give him what for,” she said.

  “You are?” She was going to yell at Jett Hart?

  “Why wouldn’t I? Kind of like I defend you when people down at the market call you a weirdo.”

  Wait, what? “What?” I asked.

  “My point is, I stand up for my kids. And I’m going to give Jett Hart a piece of my mind.”

  “Momma, no. It’s fine. Andrew talked to him and so did I and … Hello?” I looked at my phone again. She was gone. I bit my lip, staring at the black screen.

  I stood on my tiptoes to try to locate the platform in the middle of the maze but couldn’t see anything but cornstalks.

  Another group of laughing kids came from around a corner.

  “Anyone seen Gunnar?” I asked them.

  “No,” one of them replied, and kept walking. I continued on, weaving my way toward the middle of the maze, hoping to find the lookout point.

  “Soph!” a voice called out.

  I turned in a circle but nobody was around.

  “Up here!”

  I looked up. Andrew stood above the maze, obviously on the platform that I couldn’t see. The wooden structure was right below the tops of the stalks.

  “Can you see Gunnar from up there?” I called back to Andrew.

  He shook his head no. I wanted to get up and see for myself, but he was at least two rows over from me.

  “How do I get over there?” I shouted.

  He scanned the area around me. “Follow your path straight. About halfway down your row, turn to the right. Then stay right at the fork and it will lead you to the stairs. I’ll meet you halfway.”

  “No, just stay there in case I get turned around,” I said, but it was too late; he’d already disappeared from above me.

  I followed his directions. Or so I thought. But I couldn’t find the corridor on the right he’d been talking about. The path only led to one veering left. Maybe he hadn’t realized which row I was in. I kept going, then turned right as soon as I possibly could. But I knew after ten minutes of not discovering stairs that I’d taken the wrong path.

  I texted him: Go back to the platform. I got turned around.

  How could you possibly have gotten turned around? There were literally three steps.

  Maybe you give bad directions.


  I don’t.

  You obviously do.

  My phone buzzed with a call, making me jump. It was my mom again.

  “Hello?”

  “He made it out.”

  “What?”

  “Gunnar’s out.”

  “Is he okay?” I asked, relief pouring through me.

  She must’ve handed the phone to Gunnar because he got on and was talking a mile a minute. “I did the whole maze by myself. I was good at it too on account of I’m so fast. Momma was right, I am old enough to do it. I didn’t even have to use the lookout. I just remembered all the turns like a map in my head and it was so fun. I should race you next time. The Carter boys were racing and I think I could beat both of them—”

  “I’m glad you’re okay,” I said, cutting him off. “And good job on the maze.”

  “Thanks. Here’s Mom.”

  “Hey,” she said. “So we’re takin’ off then.”

  “Okay … How’s Jett? Was he … mean to you?”

  “That man is all hat, no cattle.”

  So my mom could hold her own against Jett Hart. I was impressed. “Did you take it easy on him?” I asked.

  “I said what needed to be said.”

  “Thank you, Mom.”

  “What? I actually get a thank-you? I bring you a letter that says you get free money, nothing. I yell at some grown man, and ‘thank you, Mom.’ ”

  The angry feelings that I feared were never going to leave surged in my chest. “Mom …”

  “What?”

  “That scholarship. You know I didn’t want it. I’ve been perfectly clear on what I want to do with my life. To me it only represents the fact that you don’t believe in me.” There, I’d said it. Sure, I’d said it on the phone so I didn’t have to look her in the eye when I did, but still.

  Mom didn’t respond right away. I held my breath. Apparently I was going to fight with everyone tonight.

  “Sophie, I live in the real world,” Mom said at last. “And in the real world, this is the money you need to go to college.”

  “I’ve been saving and Dad’s been saving.”

  “Dad? You mean that man I loaned a hundred bucks to last week because he’s never been able to save a penny in his life? That Dad? Or did you adopt a different one who doesn’t have money issues?”

  I blinked. “That’s not true. He’s been matching me.”

  She just laughed.

  My dad hadn’t been saving money for me? A pit formed in my stomach and seemed to want to swallow me whole.

  “That’s not the point!” I protested, feeling desperate. “It doesn’t matter. I can apply for grants and aid and …”

  “Scholarships?” she said.

  I couldn’t respond. I could hardly breathe.

  “I’ll see you at home, Sophie,” Mom said in a voice that was slightly more sympathetic. “And hey, bring me some of Miss Angel’s cookies on your way out. She said another batch was on its way.” The line went silent. She’d hung up.

  I closed my eyes. Then, with that rage still burning inside me, I sent off a text to my dad.

  Is it true? Have you not saved any money for me for college? I never asked you to so why did you need to lie about it?

  I pushed Send.

  Seconds later he responded back with only two words: I’m sorry.

  And then my screen went black. I hadn’t noticed my battery running low, but that must’ve been the case because I couldn’t power it back on.

  I stared at that black screen, a shadowy image of my angry eyes staring back at me. Great. Mom was right. My dad hadn’t saved a dime for me. I was screwed.

  I tucked my phone in my back pocket. I needed to find a way out of here, even though I really just wished I could melt to the ground and become one with the corn. But I did know some wishes weren’t realistic. Maybe more than some.

  My kid brother could get out of this maze, but I couldn’t? And why did it seem like nobody was left in here but me? I hadn’t seen another soul for at least fifteen minutes.

  “Hello?” I yelled out. “I give up! Send in the rescuers!”

  I pulled my phone back out and tried to power it on again. The battery hadn’t magically been charged by my jeans. I shook the phone in frustration. I was shoving it back into my pocket just as I rounded a corner and slammed, full body, into someone. I tripped backward, barely keeping myself from falling.

  “Andrew,” I said in relief.

  He smiled down at me. “This place is like a …”

  “Maze?” I finished for him.

  “Like a really hard one.”

  “One that apparently an eleven-year-old can accomplish.” I brushed my hair out of my face.

  “Are you saying Gunnar found his way out?”

  “Yes.”

  Andrew smiled again, letting out a breath. “Good.”

  “Can I borrow your phone?” I asked. “Mine ran out of battery.”

  “Ah. Is that why you stopped answering my texts?” He handed me his phone. “I thought maybe you got tired of me mocking your sense of direction.”

  “That too.”

  I pulled up his contacts, found Micah, then pushed Call.

  She picked up after one ring. “Did you find him?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  “Oh, it’s you. You and Andrew never split up?”

  “No, we did. We just now found each other again and my phone ran out of battery. Anyway, do you need to be rescued?”

  She let out a single laugh. “No, I’ll find my way out. I actually circled the entrance twice now. My dad is going to kill me.”

  “Yeah …” I shifted from one foot to the other. “Thanks for helping.”

  “Yep,” she said, then she hung up.

  I sighed, trying to decide whether to call her back or not, when Andrew said, “It’s probably not a conversation to have over the phone.”

  “You think you can read my mind?” I asked, handing him back his phone.

  “I already told you that I can. I have you figured out, Sophie Evans.”

  I shook my head, feeling tired. “Maybe you can clue me in.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Why don’t you figure us out of here, Mr. Know-It-All?”

  He jerked his head back the way he’d come from. “I think I can at least get us to the platform. That will help.”

  “If not, I have a match in my pocket. We can burn this mother down.”

  He laughed. “Maybe I don’t have you all the way figured out.”

  We walked in silence for several moments before I said, “You see what I mean about the stars?”

  He looked up and so did I. “They are pretty incredible out here.” His voice sounded as heavy as mine.

  “You okay?” I asked. He’d stood up to his dad and I knew that hadn’t been easy for him.

  “Walking in a maze all alone has a way of making one analyze oneself,” he said.

  “I agree. We should all be required to do it once a week. A therapy maze or something.”

  “How has nobody thought of this before?” he asked.

  I let out a small laugh and we kept walking.

  “So what did you figure out?” I asked.

  “That’s maze-client privilege.”

  “You’re right. I hope the maze is good with secrets.” Because I didn’t feel like telling anyone what I’d been dealing with in this maze tonight either. I just wanted to put it all out of my mind, let the maze hold on to it for a while.

  Andrew met my eyes, his expression teasing again. “Should we give it some more secrets to keep?”

  I shoved his shoulder. “You’re funny.”

  Andrew reached out and batted at a leaf as we walked. “Here’s the thing: My dad is a jerk. You’ve always known that, I’ve always known that, the world knows that. But I just wanted to … I don’t know, give him the benefit of the doubt. Try to understand why he is the way he is. And since you know how good I am at figuring people out, obviously—”

 
“Obviously.”

  “I thought I understood why he does what he does. Stress, pressure. Trying to climb out of some failure hole he feels he’s fallen into.”

  “Failure hole?”

  “Yes. His show failed, his marriage failed, his restaurant—the one he tried to open after the show—failed. So he takes on these failing businesses and helps make them successful. I think it keeps his demons at bay. But just barely, apparently. Because the demons that make him think it’s okay to yell at a little kid are still thriving in there.”

  “For what it’s worth,” I said, “my brother is going to be fine. It’s not like he’s never been yelled at. Plus, he got through the maze on his own and was super proud of that.”

  “As he should be. This thing is no joke.”

  “Right?”

  Andrew sighed. “There’s no excuse for what my dad did and since I doubt he’ll say sorry, I apologize for him.”

  “You don’t need to do that. By the way, my mom told him off. Your dad, I mean.”

  Andrew’s eyebrows shot up. “Your mom?”

  “Yep. My normally selfish, usually apathetic, often oblivious mom stood up to the man she’s been flirting with for the last five months. It’s been a strange night.”

  “For the record, I don’t think your mom should’ve worn heels to a farm either,” Andrew said. “I’m not sure why that particular comment set Micah off.”

  “Thanks,” I said quietly, but I wasn’t sure I believed him. “I’m sure it wasn’t that comment. This has obviously been stewing in her.” A stalk of corn brushed my elbow, and I shook it off. “But I do have a bias when it comes to my mom. She pretty much can do no right. She has this habit of embarrassing me.”

  “What?” Andrew asked in faux shock.

  “I know. I’d lost my patience for her and stopped seeing her, I think.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. The maze didn’t really tell me exactly what my deep-seated issues with my mother are. We were working on that before I ran into you. But maybe I’ve been wrong … about a lot of things.”

  We turned a corner, and in front of us were the wooden stairs leading to the platform.

  “I knew I could find it,” he said. We took the stairs, climbing to the top. When we were there, we gazed out at the whole cornfield in silence.