Mason Wants to Find the Edge

Mason wanted to find the edge of the vegetable patch. Nobody had ever told him where it was, so he packed his backpack and set off.

Inside were two cookies, a string, and a spoon for digging up treasure.

"I am a brave explorer," Mason said. "Brave explorers always find the edge."

He walked past the beans. He walked past the pumpkins, big as sleeping cats. Then he came to a scarecrow with a teapot for a hat.

"Hello," said Mason.

The scarecrow said nothing. Scarecrows don't. But high on a pole above him, a little bell went ting-a-ling, because the wind had turned around.

Mason kept walking. The leaves grew taller than his head. The rows all looked the same. Soon he came to the beans again, and the pumpkins again, and the scarecrow with the teapot hat.

"Hmm," said Mason. "I was here before."

He tried going left. Beans. He tried going right. Pumpkins. He sat down on his backpack and gave one cookie a small, sad nibble.

Ting-a-ling.

The bell rang. Mason looked up. The wind had turned, and every leaf in the patch leaned the same way, like a crowd waving.

"The leaves are pointing," said Mason. "Pointing where the wind goes. And the wind goes out."

He took out his string and tied one end to the scarecrow's pole. Then he walked, and the string went with him, unrolling behind like a thin white tail. He followed the leaves. Beans, beans, pumpkins, and then, plop, his sneakers sank into soft, bare grass.

The rows had ended. There was a wide, green field, and a sky as big as a bowl.

"The edge!" said Mason.

He sat down in the grass and ate the second cookie. Behind him, the string ran all the way home, and far away the little bell went ting-a-ling, softer and softer, until it was only a breeze.