Jess was half in and halfway out of that little trap door when I, all the little apricats, and Billy the water-melon-buffalo noticed her skin begin to harden. She was turning into a puppet, and we all knew it.

"Help me, Sam," my friend pleaded.

"I'm so sorry, Jess," I replied. "I don't know what to do."

"Don't worry," said Livvy. "I know exactly what to do."

Without any further hesitation she padded straight over to the trap door and threw herself down the hole.

It was like instinct next. Tilly grabbed hold of Livvy's wriggling tail. As she started to get dragged toward the hole, Maddy grasped Tilly's tail. Then Gabby grabbed a hold of Maddy's tail as Maddy started to get pulled toward the trap door hole. Billy lumbered over in Maddy's direction, ready to grasp the apricat and put the brakes on. I watched all of this happen with my mouth gaping.

"Don't just stand there like you are hoping to catch some flies!" said Billy. "Grab hold of my tail and make sure none of us fall."

So, I did. I grasped that little tuft of buffalo tail, and I pulled back with all my might. One by one the little apricats re-appeared and then finally my friend Jess, all of her, popped out of that hole with not a single sign the puppeteer had reached her. The orange-a-tan crawled out next. I was going to try and push him back down and then close the trap door, but the look of hope which Jess gave me made me pause in my attempt.

"Look," she whispered in awe. "The strings have snapped, and the orange-a-tan is free again."

It was true. The orange-a-tan had returned to normal, his big orange face beaming with relief.

"Thank you, my little apricot friends," he said with a fat-lipped smile as he closed the trapdoor and then perched himself atop it. "No more muttering that silly song, and no more waving about my arms trying to catch you all."

"How?" I asked in disbelief. "How are you free again?"

Little Livvy flashed her tiny paws, showing me how they ended in tiny, retractable, apricot seed claws.

"These little daggers will slice through any string," she boasted.

The other little blobs of pastel orange revealed they too had similar, deadly appendages.

"Why did not we think of this earlier, Maddy?" asked Tilly.

"Probably because we have all been far too busy running away," suggested Billy.

The apricats paused for a moment before purring loudly to show that they agreed.

As we stood or sat, applauding ourselves for the saving of my friend Jess and the orange, orange-a-tan, thin whisps of wire appeared like tree roots from gaps in the trapdoor. They quickly found purchase around the primate's limbs. Before we could warn the citrus ape the change took hold again. Livvy grinned and made to once more tear each strand, but more of them appeared, snaking forward, searching for other arms, legs, and tails to entangle.

"Quickly," I urged. "Now is the time to run again."

"Yes," agreed Jess. "We can make our escape now and plan for how to free everyone that the puppeteer has enchanted."

"This way then," said Maddy, dashing off in the direction of a path she had discovered.

"Come on," said Tilly, Gabby, and Livvy. "Follow us and make sure to keep up a quick pace."

And the pace was indeed quick, even Billy the Watermelon-buffalo trotted along swiftly, not a single sign of the lumbering and bumbling he did in the tunnel under the tree.

In fact, it was such a quick pace that neither Jess nor I thought to ask or look to see where it was that the apricats and watermelon-buffalo were taking us two. Not, that is, until our destination was in sight. It was then that we discovered we had been led to a dark and foreboding forest where a path of black and blue bricks guided us into the mysterious world beyond.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"And how will that help us to defeat the puppeteer when we get there?" added Jess.

The apicats began to giggle. Billy the watermelon-buffalo let out a great guff of a laugh, a squishy, pip-filled grunt and sneeze.

"It is not a where we are taking you, but too a who," said Livvy.

"You are taking us to see a wise old owl?" I asked, curious and hopeful.

"We know no such ow-elle who is wise and old," said Maddy.

"Although there is a bird named Jay who is three trees north of here," said Tilly.

The apricats all purred as they considered this.

"Sharp beak… Good for pecking… Not so good for cutting strings and wires…" said Billy wisely.

"No… Through this forest and out the other side is the home of the Stuff…" said Maddy.

"What stuff?" asked Jess.

"Ssssss-nenna the Stuff…" said Tilly.

"If you ever need something sharp, we can guarantee a Stuff would have it," said Livvy. "A Stuff has all the stuff you could ever need."

Billy nodded in agreement.

"Sharp, blunt, and anything in between," he said. "And that Ssssss-nenna the Stuff has more stuff than any Stuff I know."

"Do you know many Stuff?" Jess asked.

"I know them all," said Billy, his melon face very serious.

Jess and I looked at each other. It seemed like my friend was just as confused as I was. What was a stuff? I knew what stuff was, but I had never heard of stuff being referred to as if it was a person.

"Be full of care," said Gabby. "Here is where the forest becomes a field."

As we continued to follow the apricats, with Billy the watermelon-buffalo lumbering behind us, Jess laughed, easing my worries.

"It is not a field," my friend said. "Or at least not an empty field."

I looked closer at the way the tall trees suddenly stopped, replaced instead by stalks just as tall with hairy heads. Green wrap hid golden cobs waiting to be harvested. We had stumbled into a field, and a very large field, of ripe heads of corn.

"Do you feel hungry?" I asked Jess.

"Shhhhhhh…" whispered Maddy.

On cue, Jess' stomach rumbled.

"I said… Shhhhhhh…" Maddy whispered again.

"Why are we whispering?" I whispered back.

"Because…" said Maddy, a scowl on her cat-ish features. "We don't want to wake the corn…"

"Yeah," said Gabby. "There are all kinds of corn in this field."

"We normally let by-corns be by-corns," said Maddy, thoughtfully. "They prefer to rest on their laurels and their husks."

"There is the uni-corn…" began Livvy. "They only have one stalk."

"And a drag-corn…" added Tilly. "He was all fire and crossness, and his eyes were all moldy."

"Don't you mean milky?" asked Maddy.

"No, not at all milky," said Tilly. "They looked like they were long overdue."

"So, udder-ly cow-less?" asked Billy.

"Yes and yes," said Tilly. "No cows or udders… Only corn…"

"An only-corn?" asked Livvy. "I'd like to meet one of those."

As the apricats were discussing this, Jess and I noticed one of the stalks of corn seemed to be moving. It would vanish from our sight for a moment or two and then pop up again a few stalks to the left, or right, or a little way ahead of us. Suddenly, it was directly behind us.

"Boo," the corn cob whispered.

That was when I noticed a tiny face, eyes and a nose with the mouth covered by the wrap of green like a cowboy wore a handkerchief.

"Who are you?" Jess asked.

"I told you…" the corn cob whispered. "I'm Boo… Bethany Boo to be more precise…"

"And what are you?" I asked next.

The corn cob gave me a look like I had just asked the silliest question. And that was when it hopped up and down on the spot and turned itself around. The green kerchief fell away and on the opposite side of the corn cob there was revealed another face. This one had two tiny round eyes just like a pair of black buttons, a shortish snout, and a black mask across its face.

"Hey Sam, it's a racoon!" shouted Jess.

My friend loves racoons.

"I'm actually a rac-corn," said the rac-corn crossly. "And I'm coming with you."

"Whatever you are, you are absolutely adorable," said Jess, suddenly smiling.

"I'll have you know that this field is full of rac-corns, just like me, but we all need something sharp so we can be harvested and set free," explained Bethany.

"Every single corn cob in this field is a living, breathing, racoon looking rac-corn?" asked Jess, her voice growing higher in pitch as she got increasingly more excited.

"So, how did you get free?" I asked the rac-corn named Bethany Boo.

Jess held her breath as we waited for the rac-corn to tell us its tale.

"Apricat claws," said Bethany Boo.

And that was that.

"Oh, yeah," said Maddy. "I came through here yesterday."

"Were you sharpening your already super sharp claws again?" asked Tilly.

"No," said Maddy. "I was wanting to test and see just how super sharp my super sharp claws were."

"And?" asked Livvy.

"Well, they were so sharp that my claws swiped straight through the stalk of a single head of corn and did not dent or scratch any other," Maddy continued.

"Super sharp precision," said Tilly and Livvy together.

All the apricats began to purr.

"Precisely," said Maddy."

"My claws are quite sharp," said Gabby.

"Prove it," said Boo.

Gabby approached the rac-corn corn stalk, causing Boo to hop backward.

"No… No… Not on me…" Bethany said quickly. "I am already free."

"Oooooh…" said Gabby.

The apricat glared at the field of corn yet to be harvested. She smiled, gave a yawn, and then leapt in amongst the green stalks. She hacked and she slashed, she slashed and she hacked.

"Weeee! Yay!! Wayhay!" squeaked the rac-corns as they tumbled down.

There was a moment where Gabby eventually lay amongst them, puffing and panting, trying to catch her breath.

"Help us up!" squeaked the newly harvested rac-corns.

So, we did. Jess and I counted as we collected the fallen cobs of corn. Twenty-two we counted in total, and still there were hundreds and hundreds more stalks still awaiting an apricat's claw.

"Keep on going!" Billy the watermelon-buffalo encouraged.

"Sadly, I cannot," groaned Gabby. "My poor little body is tired, and my claws are now blunt."

"Yes," whispered Boo. "I forgot to mention that."

"What?" asked Jess. "I am sure you did not forget anything."

According to my friend, racoons, and therefore rac-corns could do no wrong.

"No… I did forget to say something about the rock weeds," said the rac-corn.

"What rock weeds?" I asked.

"The rock weeds that grow around the base of our stalk," said one of the other rac-corns.

I looked at a few of the other corn stalks and could see granite and limestone strutting out of the soil in little circles of protection located around the base of each plant. The other apricats joined me. Livvy, Tilly, and Maddy all hissing at the stones and batting at them with soft paws, no claws.

"Poor Gabby," mewed Maddy.

"So, if all of the corn stalks have this protective ring," said Jess. "How, Maddy, did you manage to slice through Boo's stalk?"

"Oh, that was easy," said Maddy. "I just used the spiked glove that the Stuff gave me."

"Mittens and kittens are always so smitten," said Billy.

"Do you think that the Stuff would have more pairs of these gardening gloves?" I asked.

"And what did you do with the mitten that you had?" asked Jess.

"Tilly told me that she needed it," said Maddy. "So, I gave it to her."

We all turned toward Tilly.

"And what did you do with the spiked glove, Tilly?" I asked.

"Everyone know that a glove with spikes is the best thing for moldy eyes," said Tilly. "So, I fed it to the drag-corn, and as soon as it got the glow between its jaws it flew away with it."

"I sure hope that the Stuff does not want to get its spiked mitten back," Boo whispered.

"I certainly do not want to be the one who has to go in and get it," Jess whispered back.

"Perhaps we do not want to meet this Stuff…" I added, my mind filling up with worries of what could be awaiting us beyond the corn stalks.

"Nonsense," laughed Billy. "The Stuff and I happen to be very good friends."

"Yes," agreed Gabby. "That Ssssss-nenna the Stuff is made from the friendliest fluff."

"Slow and steady stuff that fluff," added Livvy.

"Except for when the skates are on," added Tilly. "Then a stuff like that Ssssss-nenna the Stuff can be super speedy."

The apricats all purred at this.

"So do we go through the field of corn, or is it better that we go around it?" Jess asked.

"Why?" yawned a voice behind us, coming from the tree branches above. "Why… Go… Through… Or… Around…?"

"Who said that?" I asked, turning quickly.

"… When… What… It… Is… That… You… Seek…" continued the voice.

"Look, Sam," said Jess who had also turned as we heard the elongated tones emanating from the treetop. "I think it is Ssssss-nenna the Stuff."

"… Has… Been… Patiently… Waiting… Here… The… Whole… Time…" finished Ssssss-nenna the Stuff.

Laying just like a sloth, all long arms and lanky legs, ending in razor sharp claws, the Stuff was literally made from rags, furs, an oily t-shirt, and a wool blanket I was sure had been taken from my cot when I was a baby. A slinky spring and a vacuum tube made up the arms, while a coil of rope and an electrical cord formed the legs.

"Are you, Ssssss-nenna the Stuff?" I asked.

"Why… Yes… I… Most… Certainly… Am…" the stuff replied.

"Are your skates on?" Jess asked.

"No…" sighed the stuff.

"Well, you might want to get them on," I suggested.

"And… Why… Would… I… Want… To… Do… That..?" the stuff asked.

"Because a puppeteer and his army of marionettes is coming this way," said Jess. "And anything that gets tangled in his strings becomes a wooden puppet version of themselves."

"I… Do… Not… Need… To… Worry… About… That…" laughed the stuff. "Not… When… I… Can… Use… My… Stuff… Like… This…" she added.

In a matter of seconds, twenty or so, Ssssss-nenna the Stuff curled up into a ball. It was a simple thing and bit by bit we all watched the mesmerizing transformation. As a ball the creature in the trees became like a bunch of leaves. It was impossible to see where she was. This must have been how the stuff disguised herself when we approached, that and the way the corn field distracted our focus.

"Will you help us?" I asked the stuff, but sadly it was as if the creature was no longer there.

"I guess, if that Ssssss-nenna the Stuff is here," said Livvy. "Then we can help ourselves to whatever of her stuff we need."

"I'm not so sure about this," said Billy, but the four apricats all began to purr, even Gabby who was still nursing a sore paw and some blunt claws.

If it were put to a vote, I could see that Billy, Jess, and I against the idea would still lose if the tiny balls of pastel orange had their way.

"Come on, everyone," I said, stepping bravely into the talk stalks.

"We shall wait for you here," whispered Bethany.

"Make sure that you hide amongst the other corn," urged Jess. "Otherwise, the puppeteer and his puppets may find you."

"We will, we promise," whispered Boo. "We shall not surprise them, and neither will they surprise us."

"I hope that you are right about that," said Jess before she followed me.

And then one by one, the apricats came too and then Billy the watermelon-buffalo followed, last of all. Not a moment too soon, for just within hearing distance we could detect the faint sound of a certain chant.

Puppet on a string

My puppet on a string

I will teach you to dance

I will teach you to sing

And then all the children

Who like to run

I shall catch with my strings

Make each one join the fun

Puppet on a string

My dear puppet on a string

We had been discovered. Hopefully, what we could find in that Ssssss-nenna the Stuff's nest would help us to defeat the performer and his army. Hopefully, we will be speedy in our navigation through the thick maze of stalks. Hopefully we will all find a way to remain together.

"Mew… Mew…" called Tilly, immediately after we had stumbled into the maze. "Where are you?"

"Mew… Mew… Mew…" called Maddy. "Where am I? I am right beside you."

The voices of the apricats seemed muffled and distanced, though I knew that was impossible.

"Jess?!" I called.

"Sam!" my friend called back. "I cannot see you or hear you."

Oh, no, I thought. It has happened, our worst fears… We are all lost and will never see each other again…

And in that moment of fear, when my spirits were at their lowest, out of the corn stalks hopped Bethany Boo, and waddling beside the rac-corn was Billy the watermelon-buffalo.

"Never fear, Sam," said Billy. "We will guide you to the other side."

"Yes," whispered Bethany Boo. "Who better to lead you through this maze than part of the maze itself."

"What about Jess, and all of the apricats?" I asked. "Who will lead them?"

"We must not lose hope that we will all meet again," said the rac-corn.

"And if I know apricats they will be climbing up those tall stalks in no time and finding their own way out," said Billy.

"I hope you're right," I said.

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