The Wicked Wheat

Summer ended too quickly. The night air was seasonably cool but pleasantly comfortable. As the full moon sat gloriously in the sky, sounds of crickets filled the town of Ashton. It had personality as well as a reputation too. The town had been able to survive some good times and even the worst of times decades ago.

The community came together when an awful incident happened near Scenic Route 293. It was the Fourth of July weekend and the annual carnival plus its 3 Mile parade attracted natives and visitors alike. It was the largest crowd the town had seen in awhile. The celebratory occasion and festivities drowned out the sound of anything or anyone.

As Tommy and two friends walked together down Scenic Route 293 they laughed. Jokingly Tommy was making fun of Josh for not diving head first into the shallow lake they found days earlier. Kyle the athlete of the bunch, was carrying his prized basketball as he often did most days.

"You are so scary Josh, but I still like you I think," said Tommy. While staring at him, Josh shook his head and then smiled. Kyle joined in too and all three boys continued their walk home.

It was only a 50 yard distance from the wheat field to their modest subdivision but close enough to hear and see the spectacular parade and fun carnival.

Kyle decided to begin dribbling from left to right, then right to left showing off his athletic ability to his friends. As a point guard he was always flexing and practicing to be the best. First dribbling very slowly, then much faster, and finally twirling the ball on his left index finger.

The third time he attempted the flashy drill, his basketball seemed to jump quicker than anticipated and he lost it. The ball rolled with speed on the side of Scenic Route 293 but then Josh accidentally kicked it. The momentum his friend created caused it to land partially on the opposite of the road.

"Josh, wow! Now I have to do extra work to get my ball," yelled Kyle. He looked in both directions and made it across easily to retrieve it without breaking a sweat. "Will you hurry up, I am hungry, yelled Tommy. Quickly he darted across, back to his friends and they resumed walking together.

"Hey, my shoes are untied I'll catch up" said Kyle. As he kneeled down, that's when the noise from the wheat field began. The stalks began to rustle and fan in the briskest manner he'd ever seen. It was as if a magnet pulled at Kyle and made him unable to run. No warning to keep moving, spoken or even posted would have changed his fate.

The last thing Tommy and Josh heard from their friend was his distressed yell. There was absolutely no sign of him, nothing left behind only his prized basketball. And the wheat field was oddly still too.

Repeatedly both friends called out to him but he never responded. His loving parents blamed them and the community suffered heartache.

Rumors in Ashton were fueled with much uncertainty. An urban legend quickly followed after Kyle's disappearance near the quiet wheat field.

It took many years for the town to heal after the incident. Almost 15 years later on the anniversary date of his unsolved disappearance, another unsuspecting teenager with similar traits also vanished near SR 293. The common denominator was the wheat field.

The history surrounding the wheat field near SR 293 could be traced back to the harvest rituals practiced to save struggling crops. It needed and desired only vibrant spirts to thrive. The life cycle for crops spanned 15 years specifically in Ashton.

THE END