Kernal Cob & The Winter Solstice Miracle

This was originally published in Mannison Press Faux Paws in September 2023

by Angelique Fawns

Kernel Cob didn’t come to life until the woman cried on his roots, softening the frost-covered Kansas soil.

Her grey hair was tied in a messy bun, she smelt of warm apple pie, and her plaid jacket had a hole in the back. “My husband’s been meaner than a Bobcat with his tail in a knot lately.” She wiped away the tear hanging from the tip of her pink nose.

The woman pulled herself to her knees and gave a self-conscious laugh. “Would you look at me, talking to the corn now? Though you do kind of look like a person, that yellow fluff as hair, and your two cobs like hands. I might as well introduce myself. I’m Olivia. You can be Kernel Cob.”

Kernel stretched to his full height on the stalk—he had a name! He reached towards his new friend with half-husked ears, crackling from being left to dry in the field.

“The wind must be picking up, look at you rustle so! You’ve dried perfectly, and that should make Fred happy about something. He’s going to be mowing you all down tomorrow. He always saves the corn harvest till the winter solstice. Superstitious man.”

Olivia pulled out a granola bar and munched on it slowly. She held one hand to the side of her swollen cheek as her jaws flexed. The silver wrapper fell to the ground when she absentmindedly missed her pocket.

She gave one of his ears a pat. “Better be throwing his supper on before I get a cuffing.” She limped off through the curling leaves of his fellow corn stalks.

All night he pondered his fate in the glow of the moon. He yearned to run after Olivia and breathe deeply of her cinnamon smell. His tassels swayed in the night breeze as he practiced the novel skill of thinking.

Didn’t the beautiful lady mention mowing? As in cutting down his stalk and severing his ears? He wasn’t willing to die as soon as he was born.

He wiggled his roots, but the soil held firm. If he could only break free and walk out of this field before the large tractor with sharp blades began its harvest massacre. As the sun peeked over the horizon, a blood-curdling howl inspired him. A lone wolf trotted through the rows, growling after an unsuccessful hunt. Kernel rubbed his two corn cobs together, and a few maize kernels fell to the dirt.

The mangy animal sniffed at the fresh grain. Kernel tossed some soil over the yellow nubs with his lowest leaves. The wolf whined and began digging. As the animal’s strong paws tossed the topsoil aside, the cold air tingled his newly unearthed roots. Kernel wiggled with hope and determination. Several more minutes of this, and he might shake himself free.

The wolf paused when it heard footsteps and a rustle in the next row. Kernel’s silk tassels froze when he saw Olivia. She had her grey hair tucked under a toque, and there was a new limp in her gait. The wolf crouched low in hunter mode, saliva dripping in anticipation.

Kernel tried to yell a warning, but he had no mouth. His frantic rustling didn’t slow her steps or deter the hunter. The wolf’s hindquarters rose an inch. He was moments from launching. In desperation, Kernel whacked the animal with one knobby ear. The wolf yelped and skittered into the shadows of the deeper rows.

Olivia gasped and grabbed the edge of her coat. “Lands alive, a wolf! They’re always hungry this time of year. Kernel Cob, I must be more sleep deprived than I thought. I swear you just hit that ugly thing with your ear.” She laughed and rubbed her pale face, careful not to touch her blackened eye. “When Fred gets into the whiskey, I never get a good night’s sleep.”

Kernel wanted to wrap his leaves around Olivia. Her eyes were swollen, and he could feel the sadness radiating off her.

“I’ve come to say goodbye. The corn is being cut this afternoon. This crazy old lady will have to find someone else to talk to.” A few more tears wet the soil by his newly exposed roots.

Kernel Cob stretched one leaf and gently touched the top of her toque. She reached above her head and gently rubbed the tip against her chapped red cheek.

“I am so lonely.” She gave a shuddering breath. “It’s been nice knowing you, Kernel Cob.”

Olivia pulled herself to her feet and gave him a final sad smile. She walked back to her house with her chin on her chest and her breath captured in white puffs by the cool air.

Kernel Cob curled his tassels in panic. He had to follow her! With a gigantic effort, he jerked his stalk back and forth. Nothing. The semi-frozen soil still held him captive.

This couldn’t be the end of his short life. He tried wiggling his roots, systemically moving the tear-softened soil a millimeter at a time. He had a little more freedom, but he was still deeply connected to the ground. Exhausted, he allowed his ears to sag. He was doomed to be threshed and torn apart.

A crow cawed as it circled overhead. The melancholy sound was the perfect soundtrack for his mood. He dropped his eyes to the ground, wishing he had never been given life to have it taken so cruelly. His tiny eye caught the gleam of the silver granola wrapper.

He quivered with an idea.

Stretching out one leaf, he picked up the wrapping and passed it up his stalk. Holding it aloft, the crow dipped down and tried to steal the shiny item from Kernel’s grasp.

He held tight as the black bird fought and pulled on the treasure. The crow was strong, and for a few moments, the corn man was terrified he would lose the wrapper. He summoned all his strength and curled the tip of his leaf in a corkscrew. He managed to keep hold of the silver bit of paper.

The crow flailed with sharp talons and cut some of his tassels in the struggle. Ignoring the pain, Kernel gave a mighty wiggle. The crow was edging the paper out of his grasp. The dried edges of the leaf were crumbling to the ground. He was going to lose the wrapper...

He wilted, knowing defeat was a second away.

Just as the bird gave a mighty yank, the soil gave way. Kernel Cob stumbled onto his root feet and uncurled his uppermost leaf. The shiny black male escaped with its plunder, chattering in triumph.

The corn man danced and waved his leaves in the air. He was free! It took a few moments to learn how to stabilize himself on the ropy white ends of his seminal roots. They were much weaker than the shoots near the soil level.

With an awkward shuffle, Kernel followed the footprints through the cornfield. He found the ramshackle farmhouse and saw Olivia chopping firewood. Her frail body shuddered with every swing of the axe. She dropped her jaw when she saw him, the axe tumbling to the ground.

“Fred! Fred, get the shotgun!” Olivia’s neck cords bulged as she screamed.

A fat man in stained overalls rushed out of the front door with a long, ancient weapon.

Kernel stumbled back a few steps and waved his ears in confusion.

Fred fumbled with the gun. “What in tarnation is that?” The kickback knocked him back a few steps.

The bullet whizzed by Kernel Cob’s left side, tearing off a large leaf that disintegrated on impact. The corn man looked in dismay at his grey-haired friend. Her beautiful face was wrinkled in panic, and Kernel Cob knew she was frightened of him.

Fred tried to reload his gun and slipped on some ice on his porch. Olivia shouted incoherently. Kernel Cob drooped, unable to comprehend the ugly sound coming from his love. Those warm tears that brought him to life? The warmth of her company?

His heart breaking, he shambled back into the field, the plant beside him shredding as another bullet passed through it.

Moisture trickled from his eyes as he pushed through the field. When he could no longer hear Olivia’s screams nor hear the blast of the shotgun, he paused to rest his aching feet.

His tears fell on the roots of a tall, robust corn stalk. Her tassels rustled as sharp little eyes opened. Kernal Cob reached towards his new friend and touched one of her leaves with his corn cob hand.

They smiled at one another, and she wiggled her roots in the dirt.

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