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“A corn maze?”
“That’s what the sign says,” Scar replies, grinning at Mumbo. “I think Cub made it, he was saying something recently about making a maze. What do you think, should we give it a go?”
Mumbo stares at the entrance, contemplating, “I don’t know, I’ve never really seen the point in these things. You wander around a cornfield for a while, and then what? There’s no real stakes here.”
“The point is the journey. It’s not about the maze itself, but the people you do it with.”
“Maybe the real corn maze was the friends we made along the way,” Mumbo jokes, chuckling.
Scar nods, “Exactly, exactly. Does that mean you’re in?”
“I suppose so, yeah,” Mumbo shrugs, “Might as well, since we’re already here.”
“Amazing! Let’s go,” Scar exclaims before grabbing Mumbo’s hand, pulling him forward. “I’m, like, a master at mazes, you have no idea. I’ll be able to navigate us through here no problem.”
Scar is absolutely not a master at mazes, as it turns out.
He’s led them down every single possible wrong turn so far, putting them at so many dead ends that Mumbo’s lost track of how many they’ve run into. They’ve been in the maze for nearly an hour, if not longer, and have made little to no headway. They’re currently right smack dab in the middle of the maze, if Mumbo had to guess. It’s becoming more apparent that Scar has trouble with directions, because they keep going in and out of the same three paths, meaning the way out was rather obvious at this point.
It hasn’t been all bad. First off, spending time with Scar has been quite pleasant. Even when he keeps insisting they aren’t lost. He doesn’t get to spend one-on-one time with the builder often, so times like these are always nice, especially when Scar’s hand refuses to let go of his own. It’s also nice hearing the man ramble on about a myriad of different topics, ranging from his latest build to the different theories he has about the Star Wars series. Mumbo would listen to him talk for, well, forever, if he could.
It’s about time they find their way out of this maze, though.
“Scar,” Mumbo starts as they round yet another dreadfully familiar corner, “are you ready to finally admit you have no idea where you’re going?”
“What? Of course I know where I’m going,” Scar remarks, joke offense clear in his tone.
“Are you sure? Because we’ve passed this same scarecrow like five times now.”
“That doesn’t mean we’re lost, I just like this scarecrow. His name is Jeffrey.”
“Right.” Mumbo rolls his eyes, a fond smile on his face, “My mistake. I don’t suppose Mr. Jeffrey could point us in the correct direction?”
“Well, he definitely could if he knew how to speak.” Scar shakes his head, looking down, “Poor guy, hasn’t quite gotten the hang of talking yet.”
“Then how do you know his name is Jeffrey?”
“I- That’s- Well- I mean-” Scar stutters for a minute, then he sighs, defeated. “Okay, yeah. We’re completely, utterly lost right now.”
“You did your best, dude,” Mumbo comforts, lightly squeezing the other’s hand. “Plus, I’m not sure how many people could have accidentally traveled in the exact same direction that many times in a row. That takes skill.”
Scar squeezes back, looking over at him with a smile, “You’ll come to find I’m a man of many talents.”
“I’m sure you are, you’ve managed to become friends with a scarecrow who can’t even communicate,” Mumbo laughs. “Now, how abouts we get out of here?”
Scar blinks. “How? I just said we’re lost.”
“No, you’re lost,” Mumbo corrects, “I figured out the path to the exit about three circles ago.”
“Oh, Mumbo,” Scar sighs, leaning up against the taller’s side, free hand covering his forehead like a swooning maiden. “What would I do without you?”
“Be trapped in a field of maize, I suppose,” Mumbo teases. He tugs on their conjoined hands, leading them out of the loop they’ve been traveling through for the last thirty minutes. “Say goodbye to Jeffrey,” he reminds as they pass the scarecrow once again.
“Goodbye Jeffrey. You were a great companion on this wonderful journey.”
It takes them maybe five minutes to find the exit. The whole thing is honestly a bit anticlimactic. Mumbo’s not entirely sure what he was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t an oak sign reading, “Congrats! You done it!” Behind the sign is a chest. Scar drops his hand to run over and see what’s inside, which Mumbo is more disappointed about than he cares to admit. The cake they find inside helps soften the blow.
“You know,” Mumbo starts as Scar digs in, “I had a lot of fun, all things considered. I didn’t even mind the extra hour we spent wandering around aimlessly.”
“Weawy?” Scar asks, voice jumbled through a mouthful of cake. He quickly swallows before trying again, “Really? You enjoyed it?”
“Absolutely. In fact,” Mumbo pauses, taking a deep breath before walking closer to the builder and taking the initiative to lace their hands together again. He ignores the way Scar gasps, “I’d like to do it again sometime.”
Scar smirks, moving in even closer, “You know… If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were asking me out right now.”
“Well, I mean,” Mumbo chuckles nervously, “I wouldn’t be opposed to that idea, necessarily. But that’s not really- That’s not exactly-”
“I would love to hang out with you more, Mumbo,” Scar beams, obviously pleased with Mumbo’s reaction. “With hopefully a lot less getting lost next time, though.”