The flow of corn was nearing Lou’s shoulders. The pressure against his body was enormous, and he reflexively began reviewing the physiology of crush injuries. Muscle death, swelling, loss of function, renal shutdown, and all sorts of cardiac and pulmonary problems.

How would dying that way compare to suffocating in corn?

The horrible din was diminishing as well. Lou no longer heard what he thought was gunfire. Maybe the noise had been something mechanical? He looked over at Cap. The rising corn was at the level of the man’s upper chest. George, wedged between them, mumbled incoherently. He was buried to his throat. Lou tried to reach over for Cap’s hand, but was immobilized within a cocoon of kernels. Still, through the intense dust, they could see each other well enough to exchange looks of helplessness.

“Got any ideas?” Lou asked, surprised at how calm he was feeling next to the man who had been such a perfect friend.

“Yeah,” Cap said, “the Serenity Prayer.”

“This is going to be tough on Emily.”

“She’s a strong girl, Lou. She’ll be all right.”

Lou lifted his chin. No use. The corn was already nearing his mouth. His ears and nose were filled with dust. Kernels continued to sting them like angry hornets.

“I wish you had my two inches,” Cap said, noting Lou’s struggles to keep his head up.

Lou, spitting corn seed out of his mouth, glanced glassy-eyed over at his friend.

He could read Cap’s lips: … The courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Lou said the last words out loud, clenched his jaws, closed his eyes tightly, and inhaled one deep, final time.

Corn slid up and over his mouth. There was no way he could hold his breath any longer.

I love you, Em. I love you.

Her beautiful face was there with him, smiling.

All became silent.

Then, with another rush of sound and a sense of movement, the darkness turned to a dim light.

*   *   *

“I’M LOOKING for Dr. Lou Welcome. Is Dr. Lou Welcome here?”

Disoriented and confused, Lou opened his eyes. He was on his back alongside the track. Spotlights were shining down on him from the Chester Enterprises silos. He had an oxygen mask on. Everyplace around him was corn—piles and piles of golden kernels. Frankencorn. Sitting beside him, brushing dirt and corn from his face, was Cap.

“Hey, there, boss,” Cap said. “Welcome to the land of the living. There’s a guy calling out your name. I think he wants to talk with you.”

Lou pulled the oxygen off. He had to clear his throat and spit out a gob of thick mud in order to speak. “George?”

“Medics took him away,” Cap said. “One of them gave me a thumbs-up, so I think he’s not in any big trouble.”

“Medics?”