Chapter Text
JULY 9th, 1971. FULLERTON, NEBRASKA
The flash of blue slowly dissolved away, and Goose found herself somewhere entirely different. The warehouse was gone, the men and women wearing white were gone, even the desert was gone.
Goose poked her head out of a canopy of corn stalks, and looked over endless fields of golden farmland. Tall fences snailed along between paddocks while bright sunshine poured down, and apple-green tractors puffed along happily.
Goose just blinked. How did this happen?
Was it the light that did it? Or the Lego phone?
She honked, and said phone fell out of her beak, rustling into the corn husks. Goose grunted and looked down at it. She tilted her head as the thing started whirring and popping and making all sorts of noises.
Words started skittering across the screen like little spiders;
TO DO:
- SAVE THE CORN
- STOP TIMMY FROM RUNNING AWAY
- FREE RINGO
- HAVE A SNACK
- FIX PAPA’S WAGON
- HELP JUDY
Goose flapped her wings. Were these words for her? What was she supposed to do with them?
Suddenly a door opened with a bang, and footfalls thundered towards her. Goose rustled back into the corn just as a brown-haired young woman in a white shirt and blue skirt skipped down the path.
“Bye Mama!” She cried, waving back towards the house. “Don’t forget to feed Ringo!”
Goose’s eyes flashed. Ringo? She was supposed to free a Ringo.
“Have a great day at school Judy!” An older woman in a long flowery dress waved from the door.
Goose looked between the older woman and the younger. The words on the Lego phone were definitely talking about these people. And one of them just ran off after a bus.
Something told Goose she wasn’t helping Judy just yet. Buses were fast.
She hung her head. It looked like the shenanigans were going to have to wait.
Emerging from the corn again, she began pacing around. There was a handy gap in the fence that she could squash through, taking her onto the dusty trail up to the house. The older woman, ‘mama’, had gone back inside now, so Goose was free to explore.
It sure was a big house. Painted a brilliant white, with a slate grey roof, it was arranged in a big L shape, with a garage at one end and a big red building off in the distance. The back yard was a much different affair to the front, with an old tyre swing hanging from a tree, a shiny red barbecue lounging on the back porch, and a strange furry animal trapped inside a wiry cage?
Goose padded across the garden to meet up with it. It was a pudgy little thing with dark rings around its eyes, and black and white stripes across its body. The thing chittered as she got near, and Goose honked back. It barely had room to move in there.
Was this the Ringo she was supposed to set free? Ringo was a funny name, though who was she to judge?
The creature’s cage was locked shut, but it had one of those sliding bolts on the door. This looked easy enough. Putting the Lego phone down, she seized the twist of metal with her beak and tugged it to one side. It rattled, and shook, but eventually slipped out of the latch. Goose stumbled back from the cage as the door swung open. Ringo the furry friend poked his short little nose out of the cage and sniffed at the freedom before scampering off into the corn fields again.
The Lego phone made bouncy noises at her. She looked down at it, only to notice that ‘Free Ringo’ had been crossed off;
FREE RINGO
Goose honked happily. One down, five to go.
Waddling her way across the garden, she flapped her wings at a clang coming from the garage. What was going on in there, she wondered.
She peered around the corner to see a pair of legs jutting out from under a very big, very square red truck. Metallic clicks rang about the garage, and occasionally a hand would pop out from underneath the truck, reaching about for something. Goose spotted a shiny metal wrench laying there on the floor, near the hand.
Maybe a little bit of shenanigans was okay.
Before the hand could grab at the wrench, Goose snatched it up. And the hand kept reaching about, slapping the concrete floor. Goose edged away and hopped up the little steps, clambering up a convenient ladder.
It rattled with every jump and hop, but she made it to the top. Standing proud, she flapped her wings and honked.
“…what the?” The legs muttered. An older man rattled out from underneath the truck on a skateboard and looked around for the noise, only to find her at the top of the ladder.
It took a few seconds of scratching his head in confusion to notice. “…hey, give me that! It ain’t yours!”
Goose blinked.
Ask and you shall receive.
She dropped the wrench from her beak, which hit the man in the head with a sharp clang, and sent him tumbling to the floor.
Goose hopped down from the ladder. That’ll fix his wagon.
FIX PAPA’S WAGON
So far, Goose had met Judy, Papa, Ringo and Mama. So the young man lain horizontal in a deckchair must’ve been Timmy. His straw hat was tipped forward, his glasses were sat on the tree stump next to him, and his snoring was loud. But his sandwich was completely unguarded.
Goose struck while the iron was hot, plucking the sandwich from his plate.
HAVE A SNACK
Meanwhile the strong sunlight was burning down. Magnified through the lens of the glasses, a bright beam of light shone through, illuminating the dry corn husks.
Goose blinked. That didn’t look good.
A wisp of smoke twirled into the air, followed by a distinctive snapping, and suddenly a tickle of crimson flame gasped across the husks. In seconds the flames were spreading, scratching at the fragile corn stalks and marching through the fields unopposed.
This must have been what ‘Save the corn’ meant. Goose flapped around for a few seconds before honking at Timmy. He flinched on the first, and flailed at the second, but finally stirred on the third.
“Wha…?” Timmy grunted, before sniffing a few times, eventually noticing the rippling inferno to his right. He sprang to his feet and dashed back into the house, emerging a few seconds later with a bucket full of water. His worried looking mother peered after him, only to exclaim loudly at the sight.
Timmy threw the water at the flames, only for them to sizzle angrily in response. By the time he had made it back to the porch, his mother had a vase full of flowers in hand, which they swapped.
The half-dozen tulips were sacrificed to the ever-hungry flames, and Timmy made another desperate lunge for the refilled bucket, dowsing another section of flames.
Meanwhile Goose just stood there. There wasn’t anything she could do… was there?
Timmy and Mama were fighting to keep the fire under control, and Papa was nowhere to be seen. But then the hosepipe sparkled invitingly.
Goose waddled over and pecked at it, tilting the faucet. A few more pecks, and a surge of water was escaping down the length of the hose. Goose followed after it and lunged for the end of the hose… only for it to flail out of control, spraying water everywhere.
Timmy screamed. Mama screamed. Goose honked.
But on the bright side, the fire was going out. Reduced to a whimper, the glowing embers were slowly extinguished under a sparkling rainbow.
SAVE THE CORN
But Mama was not happy. Hands on her hips, her dress was soaked and her hair was slapped across her face like a wet fish.
Timmy looked back at her sheepishly, dragging his foot against the ground. Meanwhile Papa had gotten the hose under control and turned it off at the faucet. His voice was low and gravelly. “Maybe watchin’ the farm ain’t for you, son.”
Timmy buried his hands in the pockets of his dungarees. Meanwhile the corn just simpered.
Goose honked. No one looked at her.
It was a very quiet afternoon. Mama and Papa were working together to tidy up the corn field, but Timmy was nowhere to be seen. Goose checked the back yard, the garage, even had a run through a few of the corn fields. He wasn’t anywhere.
Goose sat the the front porch. Mama was busy, so maybe she wouldn’t be seen exploring? Just a little bit?
Her flippers had barely touched kitchen lino however, when a bright yellow school bus shimmered along the horizon.
Goose flapped her wings. That must have meant that Judy was back.
She padded her way back down the dusty trail as the bus shuddered to a halt. The door squeaked open and the very same Judy hopped off, with a young man hanging onto her. She was smiling, but her smile didn’t look happy. And the young man with her refused to let go of her arm, walking close behind her.
The bus rumbled away, kicking up a dust cloud, and suddenly Judy wasn’t smiling any more. It was almost like the bus took it away.
She twisted and stretched her arm, but the young man with her continued to clamp onto her.
“C’mon babe, don’t be like that…” He purred into her ear.
“My arm hurts, George.” She mumbled.
He didn’t let go of her.
Arm practically locked behind her back, she dragged him up the back towards the house, plastering on another smile when her parents were in sight.
Mama beamed at the sight of him, meanwhile Papa rubbed his hands on his pants before holding out one for him to shake. He finally let go of Judy’s arm and made nice with Papa. Judy shook her wrist and folded her arms, gaining a few seconds of precious freedom before her limpet attached himself again.
“Y’all make yourself at home.” Mama smiled up at him, before returning her attention to the corn.
“Will do, ma’am.” George’s smile grew wider. “I’d love to see your room, babe.”
“M-my room?” Judy stammered. George’s hand tightened on her shoulder.
Goose tilted her head. This George was not a nice person.
Flapping after the pair of them, she snapped at the cuff of George’s blazer. George stumbled as Goose grabbed a hold, pulling the blazer away. He flailed a hand back at her but she held tight.
That was until a bottle fell out of the pocket.
George threw an arm at the little plastic bottle, but only ended up sideswiping it as it fell.
Judy narrowed her eyes at him. “…what’re those?”
George was visibly sweating. Kneeling down to pick up the pills again, he said. “…sleeping pills?”
“Y’all don’t need sleeping pills.” Judy said.
“Err… yeah!” George was slowly returning the pills to his pocket. Until Judy snatched them from him.
She gasped, and slapped him. “These ain’t sleeping pills! How dare you…!”
She turned around and stomped back up the path. George turned to follow her, but Goose grabbed onto his blazer with her beak again, holding him up.
“Judy, wait!” He tore the blazer away and took after her, but by the time he had made it to the house, her dad had pumped the shotgun.
“You’d best be leaving, boy.” His eyebrows bounced dangerously. George put both hands up in front of him, backing away down the path. He stumbled over a rock before turning tail and running as fast as his legs could carry him.
As soon as he was out of sight, Judy fell to her knees, sobbing. Her parents surrounded her like a shield, whispering soft words and kind reassurances.
HELP JUDY
Goose honked happily. That was about everything, wasn’t it?
She checked the Lego phone again. Everything on the list seemed to be crossed off, except-
There was another clang from the garage. Goose perked up to see Timmy wheeling a bike out. Despite the heat he was wearing a huge jacket, complete with a heavy looking rucksack on top of that. His parents were too busy comforting Judy to notice however, as he and his bike slowly clicked down the path towards the main road.
Goose flapped and gave chase. She was never going to catch him if he got away on that bike. Timmy tried kicking away on one foot to get started as Goose rushed through corn stalks, blindly charging forwards towards the main road. His wheels had barely started moving when Goose burst out of the corn and crashed to the floor in front of him. He panicked and swerved his bike to avoid her, but just ended up falling off of it instead as the bike crashed across the road.
Goose honked softly. That was far from a graceful landing.
Timmy was no longer on his bike though, which was a good start. Better yet, his parents must’ve heard the crash.
Papa came running down the path, only to spot his son sprawled across the road with his bike.
“Son!” Papa cried, practically scooping him off the floor. “What in god’s name are ya doin’?”
Timmy just gave his father a sullen side-eye. Papa just wrapped his enormous arms around his son.
“Don’cha worry, boy. We’ll get you trained up good an’ proper.”
Goose wobbled back to her feet. She’d done it. It was messy but she’d done it.
STOP TIMMY FROM RUNNING AWAY
With a flap of her wings and a hearty honk, she was once again swallowed up by bright blue light…
Several roughnecks in leather jackets circled dangerously on their motorbikes, surrounding a guy tied to a post with a gag in his mouth.
Goose honked.