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dumdumsun · 3 years

Text

The Loveliest Lies of All

A/N: Welcome back ❤️

Warnings: none that I'm aware of

Word Count: 3599

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Chapter Two: Hard Times at the Huskin' Bee

The chirping of crickets, gobbling of turkeys and the honking of the soaring geese above indicated the morning creeping up on the trio (or quartet?). The sound that accompanied the early morning chat of the nearby animals was Greg blowing raspberries to feed his short attention span. Scout was mildly surprised that Wirt hadn’t yet snapped at him, but then again, the teen boy was skilled at blocking out his younger brother.

For the fourth time in the last hour, Scout’s leg had given out on her slightly, causing her to stumble a bit. What she would give to have a chair, a couch, a bed to rest her wounded leg for maybe half an hour. A full one, perhaps? Maybe even two?

“You know what? I think we’re gonna find a town soon,” She chirped. “I can feel it.”

“Well, we need to,” Wirt sighed, staring up at the sky that rained rays of sunshine upon them. “It’s almost morning. We should’ve found one by now. This is the way the Woodsman told us to go, right?”

“Yes, Wirt.”

Greg blew another raspberry before glancing up at his brother with big eyes. “Have you listened to anything I’ve been saying? For the last couple hours, I’ve been saying… Pbbt! Pbbt! Pbbt-”

“Well, that settles it,” He finally snapped. “I’m gonna walk up ten feet ahead of you.” He frowned and walked past the two. Scout sighed and shook her head at her friend in amusement. She failed to notice the boy stop his walking when he heard a voice call out to him.

“I hear something!”

Scout turned to Greg and started towards him. “Wirt, Greg heard something!”

“It’s probably nothing. Hey, look,” Wirt crouched down in front of a sign nailed to a nearby tree. “‘Pottsfield, one mile’. A town! Let’s go this way.”

“Okay. After this, though.” She turned away from him and joined Greg’s side. The boy had been digging into a bush and talking into it. Behind her, she heard Wirt’s footsteps before he was by her side.

“Greg, stop talking to a bush.”

“Okay.” The boy shrugged before reaching into the bush again. Seconds later, the same bluebird from the previous night flew out of the bush and flapped her wings above them.

Scout widened her eyes at the bird. “You!”

“Thanks! I owe you a favor. So, um, you guys are lost kids with no purpose in life, right?”

“Uh-huh!”

“Um-”

“How about I bring you to Adelaide of the Pasture, the Good Woman of the Woods? She could help you get home!”

As the two boys stared at the bird in awe, Scout narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms. She didn’t trust this bird for one second. “Adelaide, huh? How’s she gonna help us?”

The bluebird scrunched what would’ve been her brows. “She has powers.”

“What kind of powers?”

“Powers that’ll get you home.”

“Why can’t she just show us the trail that leads us out of here? And why does no one else seem to know the way?”

Wirt exhaled and waved his hands about. “We don’t need magic talking birds leading us to fairy godmothers in the mysterious- I’m going to Pottsfield.”

“Yes. Pottsfield. C’mon, Greg.” Scout grabbed the boy’s hand and followed behind her friend.

“What about the favor?” The bird called.

Greg turned to her with a bright smile. “I’ll think of my wish later!”

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Scout irritably sighed at the feeling of claws softly digging into her left shoulder. “Hey,” The bird softly started in her ear. “I think we got off on the wrong foot here. What’s your name?”

“Just call me Scout.”

“Wait, seriously? Scout?”

The girl snapped her head to look at the bird. “Wanna get off on the wrong foot again?”

“Whoo, someone is sassy,” She gently tapped her cheek with her wing. “Well, Scout, you seem like a very capable young lady. What if I say… we ditch these goons and you come with me to Adelaide?”

Scout rolled her eyes and batted the winged creature off of her shoulder. “Then I say no. Never.”

Rolling her eyes, the bluebird huffed and flew next to Greg, no doubt attempting to convince the poor boy to ditch his brother and walk off with some stranger. Scout knew that Greg was smarter than that, better than that, so she didn’t bother scolding the bird. Noticing her now flapping above his shoulder, the boy brightly smiled. “So, let’s small talk. My name’s Greg. What’s yours?”

“Beatrice.”

“My brother’s name is Wirt.”

“Who cares?”

Wirt frowned and glanced at them over his shoulder. Scout sighed and shook her head.

“And my frog’s name is Wirt Jr.” Greg gently rubbed his frog’s back. “But that may change.”

“Okay. That’s great,” Beatrice lowered her voice as to not alert the two teens in front of them. “How about you and I ditch your brother and his girlfriend?”

Greg hummed in uncertainty and looked away. “Maybe later.”

Scout nearly tripped over a large pumpkin nestled within the patch they walked through. Wirt didn’t notice this and kept his gaze forward. “So, Scout, you’ll do the talking when we get there. Right?”

Huffing, the girl placed her hands on her hips. “If I must, you big wuss.”

“I-I’m not a wuss! I just- Aha!” He cheered and raised his fists triumphantly, the four now standing just above a town. “Civilization, see? Now-”

Scout tried to warn him, but the teen had walked right into a pumpkin. She watched silently with narrowed eyes as he kicked and wiggled his leg out of the vegetable before flinging it to the side. Regaining his composure, he turned forward and set his fists on his hips. “Alright. Let’s rejoin society.”

The “society” the group had walked into lacked one element. A society. There were plenty of houses littering the land, yet not a soul in sight. Rounding a corner, they walked between two houses as Wirt called out for any residents. “Hello? Hello? Hm… See anybody?”

“No,” Greg scanned the area before his eyes landed on his brother. “Oh! I see you!”

Without gaining the others’ attention, Scout slipped away to check inside the houses. They seemed… cozy. Each house was the same; small, single-roomed, and nearly empty. “These townsfolk need to invest in… well, everything…” Scout whispered as she shut the door to the fourth house she inspected.

“Scout!” Wirt called from beside a haystack. “Find anything?”

“Poor interior design, but nothing to help us.” She sighed before joining her friend at his side. “Where’s Greg?”

As if on cue, the young boy poked his head out of the haystack. “Do you hear that?”

From a barn within the distance, cheerful singing could be heard. Scout gasped and helped Greg out of the hay, frowning at the small pumpkin he must have stepped in a while ago, still on his foot. Shaking off her confusion, she let the boy keep his new shoe and followed Wirt into the barn. Peeking in, the group set their sights on something otherworldly.

The townsfolk- is that what they were?- were pumpkins. Well, their bodies were made of pumpkins, string, and actual clothing like hats. Each person had a distinct face drawn onto their pumpkin face, which sent a chill down Scout’s spine. Within the barn, the folk participated in all kinds of activities. Dancing around a tall string object, bobbing for apples, peeling apples, unhusking corn. The likes. They seemed lively, carefree.

“Oh, pardon me there.” A figure spoke as they shoved themselves between a frozen Scout and Wirt. Turning, one of the pumpkin townsfolk faced the group. “Say, you folks ought to don your vegetables and celebrate the harvest with us.”

“Uh… Oh! You’re wearing costumes!” Wirt realized.

“Well, sure. Pumpkins can’t move on their own. Can they?” He shrugged before walking away. Scout gripped Greg’s hand as she watched the pumpkin man go.

“Huh… Well, good thing you’re still wearing that pumpkin shoe, huh Greg?”

Said boy grinned up at Scout. “Yeah! I’m dressed for the occasion!”

Beatrice blinked. “You guys find this place as creepy as I do, right?”

“Absolutely.”

Wirt shrugged as if to reassure himself. “So, it’s some kind of weird cult where they wear vegetable costumes and… dance around a big thing. They seem nice enough.”

Feeling the hollow eyes of one of the townsfolk on her, Scout absentmindedly shuffled closer to Wirt. “There’s something off…”

“Well, maybe I can find someone here who will give us a ride home,” Wirt patted her shoulder comfortingly. “Scout, watch Greg. Greg, listen to Scout. Beatrice, thank you, but you can leave.” He waved the bird off.

Beatrice sighed. “I can’t leave. I’m honor-bound to help you since you helped me. That’s the- bluebird rules.”

Scout raised a brow as Wirt hummed and walked away. Greg’s eyes trailed up to his tea kettle hat that Beatrice sat upon. “Beatrice, did you know that Scout is the best dance partner ever known to man?”

“Awe, shucks, Greg…” Scout chuckled and let the boy lead her onto the dance floor.

“I’m not dancing with you.” Beatrice snipped, but Scout only grinned.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

“It’s too late,” She giggled as she and Greg twirled to the music. “We’ve already started.”

Beatrice rolled her eyes and watched as Greg and Scout joined hands with the frog before dancing in a small circle. The bird noted that there was no way she was going to separate the girl from the young boy. She clearly cared about him, if she was willing to dance around like a fool in the middle of a festival hosted by pumpkin people. And not giving any lip about it, at that. Instead, she threw her head back and laughed joyfully with Greg just before a voice broke out and silenced the entire room.

“Leave Pottsfield?! Who wants to leave Pottsfield?!”

The second the townsfolk began crowding around them, Scout pulled Greg into her side, whipping her head in every direction. Greg, oblivious to the danger, smiled casually. “Oh, are we leaving already?”

“Let’s leave immediately!” Beatrice yelled just before the barn went dark. Someone had shut the doors, trapped them in.

“I’m just trying to get home.” Scout heard Wirt’s shaking voice just before he bumped into her side.

The townsfolk backed the group into a wall of more pumpkin heads and bodies as they whispered out,

“They’re not supposed to be here.”

“Maybe he’s here to steal our crops.”

“To ruin our party.”

“Or take off our pumpkin shoes!” Greg chirped, gesturing to his trapped foot.

Wirt widened his eyes and shook his head. “Uh, no. I, uh-”

A deep voice from above chuckled. “Now, hold on, everybody. Heh. Let’s not jump up to any conclusions.”

It appeared that the tall stringed object had not been an object at all. In fact, it was a body for the most menacing-looking pumpkin-folk in the entire barn. He had to crouch just to peek through the shadows, his face drawn to show a large grin of wide teeth, hollow eyes staring into the souls of the children before him.

Wirt and Scout instantly joined hands out of fear.

“Enoch,” The townsfolk who ratted them out called. “What shall we do with them?”

“Now, let’s see here, children,” Enoch detached two strings from the ceiling to act as his arms. “How’d you end up in this little town of ours?”

In a jumbled mess, Wirt and Scout spoke over each other,

“We needed to get home-”

“We were lost in the woods-”

“Then we saw your farms-”

“And your very interesting houses and thought that this was a normal place to ask for help.”

“And we all stepped on pumpkins!” Greg grinned before Scout shook her head.

“I-I didn’t! I didn’t step on any pumpkins!”

Wirt tightened his hold on her hand. “Yeah! Well… Yeah! A-And then we heard the music from the barn, and well… uh…”

“What if we just left?” Scout tried.

Enoch chuckled yet again, contradicting the very tense atmosphere within the barn. “Now, let me get this straight: you come to our town, you trample our crops, you interrupt our private engagement, and now you wanna leave?”

She blinked. “Well, when you put it like that, it makes us look bad…”

“You’ll never convict! You have no proof!” Greg shouted, almost tripping on the pumpkin his foot resided in.

The same elderly townsfolk walked over to the group, a struggling Beatrice in his hands. “This one’s trying to escape!”

“Let me go!” She cried out. “I don’t know these clowns!”

“Children,” Enoch started. “It saddens me that you don’t wish to stay here with us… particularly because I simply have to punish you for your transgressions.”

“I knew it,” Scout whispered in Wirt’s ear. “I knew they were messed up here.”

Enoch started out his next words in a sing-song tune. “So, by the order of the Pottsfield Chamber of Commerce, I find you guilty of trespassing, destruction of property, disturbing the peace… and murder.”

“Murder?!” The teens shrieked.

“Oh, no, not murder,” Enoch snorted. “But for those other crimes, I sentence you to…”

Scout held her breath.

“A few hours of manual labor.”

And then slowly let it out.

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“Is that the last of it?” Scout asked after plunging her rake into the ground.

“Yup. That’s all the hay.” Wirt wiped a line of sweat from his forehead. “Guess that means we move onto… picking the pumpkins, right?”

“Girl!” A voice shouted out. The group turned to see a townsfolk walking up to them. “Not so fast, young lady. We need you for a special job.”

Scout and Wirt shared a look. “What… kind of special job?”

“We need a scarecrow. Need someone with nimble fingers. Gather this hay here and follow me.”

“Uh, yes, sir.” Scout quickly dumped the pile of hay into a wheelbarrow and pushed it behind the retreating pumpkin figure. She sent a reassuring smile over her shoulder at her friends. This seemed to almost do the job for Wirt, the poor boy wringing his hands together.

“She’ll be fine…”

After picking pumpkins, loading them onto a wagon, and then being bullied by turkeys (this was specifically Wirt), the group minus Scout was directed to the cornfield, baskets in hand. When approaching the clearing, the three reared back at the horrible figure displayed before them.

Its haunting grin stretched across its straw face, gangly limbs made of hay and straw, the body propped on a wooden pole. The top of its head lay open, some hay trickling from it. Beside the scarecrow was a ladder, now being climbed by Scout, who beamed at the boys and Beatrice. “Hey, there!”

“Whoo, that thing sure is ugly.” Beatrice whistled.

“He’s my pride and joy.”

Wirt wordlessly started picking the corn as Greg ran up to his friend. “Scout! I missed you so much! You missed it! The turkeys took Wirt’s hat right off his head and wore it! You should’ve seen the way Wirt jumped all around to get it-”

“Alright, Greg, that’s enough.” Wirt muttered. When Scout cackled, he snapped his head up to her. “Hey, what’re you laughing at? Your scarecrow’s head isn’t even closed! He looks like… like he’s lost his mind! Ha!”

“Stop worrying about my scarecrow and worry about your corn!” Scout pointed at him just before a stalk of corn Greg let go of had smacked the teen in his face. Wirt cried out and fell onto his back. He turned his head to the side to see Beatrice smirking at him. “Hey, guys?” Scout quietly called.

“Yeah?” Wirt turned to his friend, who stared off in the distance.

“They’re watching us like hawks…”

Once their work in the cornfield was finished, the four were sent to a large mass of empty land. Their only instruction: dig holes. Seeing as Greg was a very young and short-spanned kid, Scout took it upon herself to help the boy dig his hole and Wirt dug his own. “Scout?” Greg quietly called out, slightly winded from the work. “What if we find buried treasure?”

The girl hummed. “You think that’s why they’re having us do this? To find treasure?”

“Could be,” He shrugged before gasping. “Wait, that means we’re doin’ all the hard work and they get the pay!”

“The ways of the world, Gregory.” Scout tapped his nose. “But I’ll let you snag some.”

The two shared a laugh before Scout plunged her shovel into the ground, coming into contact with something. “Oh, hey, I found something!” She gasped.

“Buried treasure! Wirt!” Greg called out, catching the attention of his brother and their bluebird companion. “Scout found buried treasure!”

“Whoa, really?” Wirt awed as Scout ducked down to check what she found. “See, Beatrice? What’d you find, Scout?”

Wirt and Beatrice hadn’t expected to hear the girl’s frightened scream. They both flinched at the sound as Scout’s head popped up. “Greg, don’t touch it! Oh, god, get me out of here!”

“What?! What is it?!” Wirt widened his eyes and watched as Scout scrambled her way out of the hole. Greg smiled and shifted his body to reveal the skeleton laying in the hole.

“A skeleton!”

“Don’t touch it, Greg!” Scout warned. “We don’t know who that is!”

Wirt moved back and cried out in fear as Beatrice raised her brows, slightly amused. “We’re digging our own… I-I-I was wrong. I was wrong all along. I-I don’t know how to get us home. U-Use your little feet to pick our locks!”

“Oh, ho! Now you want my help?” Beatrice sassed.

“I don’t want your help-”

“Yes, he does!” Scout shouted. “Beatrice, please! At least get Greg out first!”

Any other words of plea died on her tongue at the sight of Enoch’s form moving towards them from a distance. Wirt whirled back to Beatrice, terrified. “Yes, she’s right, I want your help! Beatrice, serio-”

“Your time is up!”

“Aah!” Wirt screamed at the whole town who now crowded them once again. Scout sank back down into the hole and pulled Greg close. Shaking in his spot, Wirt stared up at Enoch, who only glanced down at the holes.

“Have the holes been dug?” A townsperson asked.

“Uh… yeah.”

“Splendid! Well, then-”

“But no.”

“No?”

Wirt blinked down at his feet before snapping his head back up to the townsfolk. “Right! Yeah… Uh, you know, we were digging, and there were too many rocks. You guys don’t like rocks, right?”

Scout narrowed her eyes as they all agreed with Wirt. “What is he doing…? We need to get out of here.”

Within the next second, Beatrice flew down into their hole, her foot free of its chain. As Wirt continued to babble, she freed Greg and then Scout, the three (plus the frog) booking it out of Pottsfield. By the time they were back in the woods, Scout’s chest burned and her leg pulsed in pain. Leaning against a tree, she sighed out and scanned the area around her. “W-Where’s Wirt?”

“Uh… Back with the pumpkin people?” Beatrice shrugged.

“What- Why?! Did you free him?!”

“Yes! I don’t know what that fool is doing!”

Scout let out a grunt of frustration. “Okay, okay. Just… watch Greg, don’t move. I’ll be right back!” She turned on her heel and rushed back towards the empty field. Cutting through the grass, she found her friend lying on his side. “Wirt!” She whispered.

He whipped his head to her, eyes wide and angry. “Where the heck did you guys go?!”

“We escaped! Why didn’t you?!”

“You guys just left me!”

Scout rolled her eyes and pulled Wirt to his feet, the boy realizing his ankle was free of its chain all this time. Dumbfounded, he let her lead him back into the woods. When he snapped back into reality, he broke into a sprint, eventually making his way to his brother and Beatrice. Bracing his hands on his knees, he took very deep breaths. “Are they chasing us?”

“No.”

He let out one last breath before standing up straight. “I-I thought you guys-”

“You’re welcome.” Beatrice smiled a bit. Wirt bowed his head.

“Thank you… I guess we’re even now, huh? You aren’t honor-bound to help us anymore?”

“I wish,” She rolled her eyes. “But you weren’t actually in any danger with those weirdos.”

Wirt grinned. “Oh, yeah! Then you still have to help us get home!”

“I got it!” Greg picked up his frog. “I wish Wirt Jr had fingernails so he could play the guitar better!”

A beat of silence passed before a voice cut through, “An odd time to tune in.”

The three turned to Scout, who approached them with a limp. Wirt frowned at this. “You weren’t running with me?”

“No, I told you they weren’t chasing us.”

“O-Oh…”

Beatrice hummed and turned back to Wirt. “So… yeah! I’ll bring you to Adelaide. I mean, that’s where I’m going anyway.”

As they began their journey ahead, Wirt wrapped Scout’s arm around his waist to support her. “Oh, yeah? What’re you going to Adelaide for?” The girl asked with a small smile.

“I guess, in some ways, I’m trying to get home, too.”

“That’s vague,” Wirt tilted his head. “What does that mean?”

“I don’t have to tell you anything.”

Scout sharply inhaled. “Touchy…”

“Well, I sure hope Adelaide is more helpful than that Woodsman was. I think his directions were… not very good.”

Scout nodded her head in agreement, leaning into Wirt’s shoulder as they continued down the autumn-decorated wood.

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Taglist: @kirishimas-manly-eyeliner

#over the garden wall #otgw #over the garden wall fic #otgw fic #otgw wirt #otgw greg #otgw beatrice #otgw frog #wirt x reader #the loveliest lies of all

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