Conor loved working mazes in his magazines. When he learned that Mr. Brooks had made a real maze in his cornfield, he couldn’t wait to go through it with his dad.
“Welcome to my corn maze,” said Mr. Brooks. He handed Conor a flag. “If you get lost, raise the flag and I’ll come and lead you out,” he explained.
“Thanks, Mr. Brooks, but I don’t think we’ll need it. Right, Dad?”
Conor’s dad smiled. “Conor’s a whiz at mazes, Mr. Brooks. He works them all the time.”
“Ready, Dad?” asked Conor.
“Lead the way,” said Dad.
Conor took Dad by the hand and led him into the maze. They zigzagged left and right through the tall cornstalks. Then they came to a fork. One path went left. One path went right.
“Let’s go left,” said Conor. They followed many twists and turns. Suddenly they came to a dead end.
“Oh, no,” said Conor. “I think we’re lost.”
“Well, Buddy, I guess walking through a real maze is a little harder than working one on paper. Should we use our flag?”
Conor didn’t want to use the flag. He wanted to finish the maze. He thought about all the mazes he had worked in magazines. Sometimes he had to go back and retrace his steps to find the right path.
“Let’s go back to the fork,” he told his dad.
They went back to the fork, but this time they took the path to the right. After a few more zigs and zags, they turned a corner and Conor shouted, “THERE’S THE EXIT!”
“Great job!” said Dad.
Mr. Brooks was waiting for them. “You really are a whiz at mazes,” he said. “Did you have a good time?”
“A-maz-ing!” Conor said, smiling.