Page 29 of Sad Girl Hours
“Are you having a nice autumnal time?” I ask, teasing her a little and expecting her to vehemently protest.
“I am actually,” she says instead, her face now an unexpected vision of Zen. “Though I would rather not have been carrying a bagful of apples on my shoulder for nearly two hours.”
“I could carry yours if they’re heavy?” I offer, despite my shoulder also being a bit sore, but she just glares at me.
“It’s a perfect crisp autumn day, and we’re going to complete this damn maze if it kills us. Which I’m starting to think it might.”
We hit another dead end. Nell tilts her head to the sky and shouts, “SUNNY? I’M SORRY FOR EVERYTHING I SAID. We need our maze guardian,pleeeease.”
I half expect their little face to poke through the maize and say, ‘Yes?’ but nothing happens. “Nice try.”
Somewhere in the distance, we hear noises of jubilance erupt into the air. “Someone must have found the middle,” I say.
Nell looks like she either wants to commit a homicide or cry. (Or both.) “Why do they sound so far away?” she says pathetically. “Are we just bad at mazes? It sounded like there were children in that group. How haveinfantsbested us? We’re meant to be strong, smart, capable women.”
“Wearestrong, smart, capable women,” I insist. “We just may also be women that need to have a teensy little peek at a map.”
You can tell things are getting dire because she actually hesitates.
“No,” she says, though she doesn’t sound completely sure. “We can do it. One last try.”
“I really admire your determination,” I say, partly joking, partly not. “It’s one of my favourite things about you. You’re very tenacious.”
“Like a badger.”
“Sure.”
“Well, thank you,” she says. “It’s always nice when someone appreciates— Oh, for the LOVE OF GOD.”
Yet again, we’re being stared down by a dense wall of golden maize, swaying slightly from side to side, the wind having picked up a little.
I raise my eyebrows. “Envelope time?”
Nell’s sigh this time could rival the wind rustling through the maize. “I just don’t understand how it can be so hard to go on a little walk and find a stupid way out of some plants. And—”
Part two of her rant is interrupted by plump drops of rain beginning to plummet from the heavens. I watch as Nell stands there, completely still, a droplet landing directly on the bridge of her nose, sliding down it to plop off the bottom.
“Envelope time,” she agrees.
Thank God for that. I unseal the envelope and pull out the paper, dark circles already scattering themselves across the page. “OK, so we must be…” I consider the last coloured square we found a couple of turns back and match it to the one on the map. “About here,” I say, pointing to our location to show Nell. “So, we’re actually really close to an exit point, or we’re about halfway to the centre.”
Nell scans the map carefully, tracing different routes with her finger. “All right.” She seems to think hard about something, rain still falling down on us. “This way.” She nods with her head in one direction.
We walk forward for a few turns until we get to another split. Nell stops. “So. If we go left, we’ll be about five turns away from the exit. If we go right, we’ll be heading towards the centre.”
I briefly check the map. “Correct.”
“So…” Nell just looks at me and I realise she wants me to make the decision.
“Oh.” I think about it.
It’s raining. We still have to walk to the bus stop and get back to town, probably soaking wet.
But.
We’re already soaking wet. It’s not actually that cold: the warmth of summer seems to be stretching on into October more and more in recent years. And Nellreallywants to finish this maze.
“Right,” I say. “Let’s go right.”
