*****

"You know we're going to end up burning the field down," Pike said as he took another toke.

"Sure. But I saw it, and I just felt like I needed to be near some corn," Benny answered.

They had settled, head top to head top, in one of the narrow troughs between the cornrows. Their trenchcoats protected them from the prickly dried husk leaves beneath them. Benny brushed cornsilk away from his face again and wondered how the night could feel as soft as that. The world looked and smelled so green.

"Yep, we're going to burn it down by accident. The corn will start to pop, and neighbors will come running with salt and butter..."

Benny gave himself the time to enjoy the image--if they had to go, why not in a blaze of popcorn?--before he asked, "What neighbors? We're in the middle of nowhere. The sky is closer than the next person." Benny took in a deep breath of smoke. "I don't think I've ever seen so many stars, and they're so close. Like I could just pluck one if I wanted to."

"But what would you do with it?"

"Use it as a lighter, probably."

"I always felt like the stars were cold." Pike's voice sounded sad and dreamy.

Benny put his arm back--the one that didn't have the hand holding the lit joint, he was proud to say--and gently groped until he reached Pike's warm face, cupping his cheek. Pike turned into the hand and nuzzled. Fortunately, also without his joint nearby. He must have been holding it.

"But I thought the stars burned. They're little suns, right?"

"Yeah, but they're far, far away. The light travels forever to get here. Some of the points of light we're looking at could be from stars that have been dead and gone for centuries."

Ben shivered.

Pike smiled into Benny's hand. "I'm sorry I'm being such a downer, man. Better not to think about it." He wiggled a little, probably to get more comfortable. "Hey, we're Children of the Corn."

Benny sniggered. "What's so scary about corn, anyway?"

"Well, there's He Who Walks Behind the Rows."

"Shit! Why do you have to say stuff like that when I'm smoking?"

"Because waiting till you're sober would mean I wouldn't get to say much at all." Pike's tongue flicked Benny's hand. "The corn's not too high; he's probably He Who Crawls Behind the Rows right now."

"And that's *less* creepy?"

"Maybe he's the Midget Who Walks Behind the Rows?"

Benny giggled. "You bastard! I'm going to have midgets dancing through my head now, and it's all your fault!"

"Hey, I gave you one midget, and he didn't dance. The rest is all your sick brain."

A brief peaceful silence washed over them, punctuated occasionally by the rustle of corn stalks in the breeze. The pot made Benny feel as green inside as his surroundings made him feel on the outside. He was glad he'd asked Pike to stop here.

"Hey, Pike, why do you think the Mystery Machine can't get above 30 miles an hour?"

Pike sighed. "I think it's the transmission."

"*Already*? You just fixed it--"

"Three months ago. Yeah, I rebuilt it. If I could get a new one, maybe it would last a while."

The decrepit van was a money pit, a voracious beast devouring parts and labor. Not a single part on it was the same age as any other part. If they could get it to a point where they knew it wouldn't die if they drove it far enough, they could finally get out of LA for good and start over.

As opposed to wherever the hell they were now. Were they still even in California?

Anyway, despite everything, Benny still loved the van. There was no part of it that wasn't Pike's somehow, his love, effort, and time. Benny loved how dark and spacious it was.

"You're smiling," Pike said suddenly.

"How can you tell? You can't see me."

"I can feel it."

Benny had the sudden image of himself with an invisible skull. Pike could just look in and tease out the innermost secrets of his heart. Brain. Mind? Whatever.

"Yeah? Then what was I thinking that made me smile?"

"Something really, really naughty." Pike gently rubbed the top of his head against Ben's, making it a caress of scalp and soft hair.

"You could have just guessed that." Benny yawned widely.

"Get some sleep, man. We could go back to the van--"

"Nah. I want to stay out here, with you."

"We could do that."

Benny put his joint into the nearby soda can and closed his eyes, shutting out the stars. He let the sound of Pike's breathing and the wind singing through the corn lull him to sleep.

~end~