The Berenstain Bears and the Haunted Hayride

by Stan

  Ferdy stepped inside and walked to the center of the chicken coop. He scooped a handful of feed from the bucket and said, “I believe the common phrase for such a task is ‘piece of cake.’” Then he began to scatter the feed in a circle around him.

  The cubs heard Farmer Ben chuckle. “That’s mighty close to your body, son!” he called to Ferdy.

  But it was too late. Ferdy was already surrounded by a mass of clucking, pecking chickens. What’s more, in scattering feed so close to him, he had accidentally dropped some into the cuffs of his overalls. Soon there were chickens pecking hungrily at his ankles.

  “Ouch!” cried Ferdy. “Ow! Stop! Back, I say!”

  The cubs laughed as Ferdy dropped the bucket and did an awkward dance to avoid his attackers. Lucky for him, the chickens went for the feed that had spilled from the fallen bucket. That gave Ferdy a chance to dash through the door and slam it behind him.

  Farmer Ben patted Ferdy on the back. “We farmers have a saying,” he chuckled. “‘He who drops chicken feed at his own feet soon finds himself in a peck of trouble.’ Get it? Peck of trouble?”

  “Very clever,” Ferdy grumbled as the other cubs hooted and hollered.

  “Cow-milking time,” announced Farmer Ben.

  Compared to the chicken coop, the barn didn’t smell so bad. Mixed with the animal smells was a weedy odor. The cubs looked up and saw bales of hay stacked high in the hayloft.

  “Now, this here is Daisy, and this is Clover,” said Farmer Ben, pointing to two wooden stalls. The cows in the stalls took no notice of their visitors, but went on chewing their cud. “They’re both ready for milking. Watch this.”

  Farmer Ben went about hooking up Daisy and Clover to two big gleaming metal machines.

  “Gee,” said Brother when Ben came back to the group. “I’m not sure we can handle those milking machines.”

  “Don’t have to,” said Ben, leading them to a third stall. “Now, this here is Old Bess.” At the mention of her name, the old cow looked back warily at the cubs. “Her milking machine is broken,” Ben continued, “and because business has been so bad lately, I don’t have the money to fix it. Old Bess is so picky about milking that she’ll only give milk in her very own stall. So, we’ve got to milk her the old-fashioned way: by hand.”

  Ben handed Ferdy a half-full bucket. “Ever seen a cow milked by hand in the movies?” he asked.

  “Certainly,” said Ferdy.

  “Then I guess you know all you need to,” said Ben with a wink at the other cubs. “Go on, son. Git!”

  Ferdy sat down on the little stool behind Old Bess and placed the bucket under her bulging udder. He grasped two nipples and pulled gently. Nothing happened.

  “Better pull a little harder, son,” Ben advised.

  Ferdy tugged harder. But all that happened was that Old Bess looked back at Ferdy.

  “Uh-oh,” said Lizzy, who had a way with animals. “She looks mad.”

  Just then Old Bess lifted a hind leg and kicked the stool right out from under Ferdy. Ferdy fell forward and landed with his head in the bucket.

  “You’re sure havin’ your problems with buckets this morning, son,” said Farmer Ben.

  “I doubt it was my fault,” said Ferdy icily. “Old Bess seems to be working no better than her milking machine.”

  “We’ll see about that,” said Farmer Ben. He took a seat on the stool and reached for Old Bess’s udder. Within minutes he had a full pail of fresh milk.

  “I’ll bet Ferdy’s had enough for one day, cubs,” said Farmer Ben. “We should all thank him for being such a good sport. And a good teacher. You can learn a lot by seeing how not to do things, you know.”

  He turned to the defeated cub. “Since you worked extra hard today, son,” he said, “I’ll give an extra half-day’s pay if you show up next Saturday. And I’ll also give you a second chance to prove you can handle these chores. Is it a deal?”

  Ferdy glanced over at Old Bess, then looked back at Ben. “Oh, all right,” he said. “Deal.”

  Ben asked Ferdy to leave his dirty overalls in the barn and told the cubs to be back bright and early next Saturday. Then he left to check his pumpkin patch.

  The sun shone brightly as the cubs trudged back across the cow pasture. A bad smell rose from Ferdy—bad enough to keep the other cubs away. But Trudy was dying to tease him. As they neared the front gate, she drifted over to him. “So, how did you like your first day of farmwork, Ferd?” she asked, holding her nose.

  “I can’t say I liked it at all,” said Ferdy without looking at her. He walked along in glum silence for a few moments. Then he added, “But I’ll admit one thing. It wasn’t boring.”

  Chapter 4

  A Visit from the Enemy

  The following Saturday, Ferdy made good on his second chance. He tossed fertilizer with the wind instead of into it. He scattered chicken feed far and wide. And after a quick lesson from Farmer Ben, he even managed to get a full pail of milk out of Old Bess.

  As Ferdy’s skill at farmwork improved, his interest in it grew. When Farmer Ben explained to the cubs how Actual Factual had cured last year’s tomato blight by spreading a virus that attacked the blight germs, Ferdy was amazed. He looked up at Ben with wonder in his eyes and said, “But that’s ecology!”

  “Sure enough, son,” said Farmer Ben. “‘Ecology’ means the study of nature. And no one studies nature harder than we farmers. We have to understand how crops grow and animals breed. We need to know what diseases plants and animals get and how to prevent them. Farming isn’t just a lot of dirty work, son. It’s science, too.”

  The other cubs were also interested in farm science, but they were even more interested in the fact that Halloween was fast approaching. That made them weed the pumpkin patch with special care. They knew that the pumpkins Farmer Ben sold to folks for jack-o’-lanterns were his most important source of income for the fall. They also knew that their own parents would be among Ben’s customers. And they wanted the biggest and best jack-o’-lanterns they could get.

  The cubs’ excitement grew even faster than the pumpkins. After just their second day of work, they had already saved enough money for Halloween costumes. They arrived at the farm for their third week’s work feeling good about getting a head start on saving money for Christmas. They were so busy feeling good, in fact, that they didn’t even notice how gloomy Farmer Ben looked.

  Farmer Ben had good reason to be gloomy. During the week, the fourth Beartown grocery store had closed down. That left only one store still buying Ben’s goods at high prices. If the last store were to close, he would surely be forced to sell the farm. Unless, that is, Ed Hooper started paying higher prices for his goods.

  As Ben and the cubs weeded the pumpkin patch that morning, a shiny new car drove through the front gate and up to the farmhouse. Moments later, Sister looked up from her weeding and saw a bear approaching on foot across the cow pasture. “Who’s that?” she asked Farmer Ben.

  Ben gave one look and muttered, “Uh-oh. It’s Ed Hooper. I’m almost afraid to ask him what he wants …”

  In his three-piece suit and expensive hat, Hooper came stepping across the pasture, being very careful to avoid the cow pies.

  When he reached the pumpkin patch, he walked right up to Farmer Ben and held out his hand. Ben made no move to shake it.

  “As you wish, Ben,” said Hooper, lowering his hand. “Five, four, three, two, one, zero!”

  “What’s that?” said Ben. “You going into the rocket-ship business?”

  Hooper laughed. “No, Ben,” he said. “That’s the countdown for the number of grocery stores left in Beartown. The last one just closed down for good.”

  “For your good, maybe,” Ben sneered. “Not for mine.”

  “That’s exactly why I came over,” said Hooper. “I’m worried about you. I want to assure you that I’ll buy all the farm goods you’ve got.”

  Farmer Ben eyed Hooper. “Bet you’re gonna raise your prices over at the Sooper-Doope
r Market,” he said.

  “As a matter of fact, I just did,” said Hooper.

  “Well, then,” said Ben, “in that case, you can afford to pay us farmers higher prices for our goods, can’t you?”

  A little smile nudged the corners of Hooper’s mouth. “I can,” he said. “But I won’t. My offer stands. Take it or leave it.”

  For a moment Farmer Ben said nothing.

  Then he exploded. “I knew it! I knew it!” he roared. “I’ve got a broken milking machine I can’t afford to fix, and I’ve already had to fire my farm hand! My wife had to quit the farm and take a job in town! I won’t let you do this to me, Hooper! It would be an insult to all my farming ancestors if I sold my goods to you at these rotten prices! I swear I’ll sell this farm before I do it!”

  Farmer Ben’s outburst had been so loud that some of the cubs were left holding their hands over their ears. But Ed Hooper hadn’t so much as flinched.

  “Well, what you do with your farm is none of my business,” said Hooper.

  “It darn sure isn’t!” yelled Ben. “Because your business is robbery! You’re nothin’ but an old-fashioned highway robber! You put a supermarket out on the highway and use it to rob folks!”

  Hooper’s smug little smile got bigger. “I’m sorry you feel that way, Ben,” he said. “But I can get my farm goods elsewhere. I’ll be on my way now. Have a nice day, Ben.”

  Hooper turned to leave, but happened to glance back and see Farmer Ben reaching for a pitchfork stuck in the ground.

  “Have a nice day?” Ben cried. “Don’t you dare tell me to have a nice day!”

  And with that, Farmer Ben raised his pitchfork and chased Ed Hooper into the cow pasture. Hooper dashed across the pasture toward his shiny new car. He reached the car safely, but not before stepping in three cow pies.

  Chapter 5

  Trudy’s Great Idea

  “Wow!” said Queenie. “I’ve never seen Farmer Ben so mad!”

  The cubs were huddled in the pumpkin patch.

  “Where did he go?” asked Lizzy.

  “Into the house,” said Ferdy. “I’ll bet he’s asking his ancestors for help again.”

  “Things sure look dark,” said Brother. “Poor Ben.”

  “Poor Ben?” said Queenie. “What about poor us? If he sells the farm to one of those land developers, we’ll lose our jobs!”

  “All the more reason to convince him to keep the farm,” said Brother.

  “Convince him?” said Queenie. “How? Nothing can convince him to keep the farm except higher prices for his goods. And now there’s no one left to pay high prices.”

  The cubs sat thinking. Suddenly Trudy said, “Yes, there is!”

  “Yes, there is what?” asked Ferdy.

  “Yes, there is someone who will pay higher prices for Farmer Ben’s goods!” said Trudy. “The customers!”

  “What customers?” asked Queenie.

  “Hooper’s customers!” said Trudy. “Farmer Ben could open a roadside market and sell his goods directly to the customers. He could sell them at much lower prices than Hooper does and still make more money than Hooper pays him.”

  “She’s right,” said Cousin Fred. “Not only will Ben’s goods be cheaper, but fresher, too. That will attract Hooper’s customers and keep the farm going.”

  “What should we call the market?” said Queenie. “It has to have a snappy name. Something with real zing!”

  “I know,” said Babs. “Hooper-Busters.”

  “No,” said Brother. “Too silly.”

  Barry said, “How about the … Un-Hooper.”

  “Nah,” said Queenie. “Too dumb!”

  Ferdy held up a hand to stop the discussion. “You’re all forgetting about Farmer Ben’s pride,” he said. “I hardly think he’ll allow someone else to name his new market.”

  The other cubs agreed instantly. They all raced to the farmhouse to tell Farmer Ben about Trudy’s idea.

  Just as Ferdy had predicted, Ben was in the living room, gazing at the portraits of his ancestors. As Trudy breathlessly told him about her idea, a smile came to his face and a twinkle to his eye.

  “That’s a great idea!” he said. He looked back at the portraits. “I knew you’d come through,” he told them.

  “What will you name the new market, Farmer Ben?” asked Queenie. “Can you think of a good snappy name that folks will notice?”

  Farmer Ben thought hard for quite a while. Finally his eyes lit up. He raised a forefinger high in the air. “I’ve got it!” he cried. “The perfect name!”

  “What is it?” asked the cubs all at once.

  Smiling broadly, Ben announced the perfect name: “Farmer Ben’s Market!”

  While the cubs shot puzzled looks at one another, Ferdy spoke up. “An excellent name!” he said. “So simple and direct! You certainly have a way with words, Farmer Ben.”

  Chapter 6

  Market Madness

  Farmer Ben’s Market was indeed a great idea. But building it might have been quite a problem had it not been for Ben’s friends and neighbors. The local lumberyard provided the lumber, on the understanding that Ben would pay for it later if the market proved a success. Papa Bear and other local carpenters teamed up to build the market, also on the understanding that Ben would pay them later for their work.

  Once built, the market was a huge success. Mrs. Ben quit her job at the fabric store to run the market with the help of the cubs working overtime. Fruits and vegetables fresh from the fields and orchards, eggs fresh from the hen, and butter fresh from the churn attracted hundreds of customers daily. Word spread quickly around Beartown that Ed Hooper was furious about losing so many customers to Farmer Ben.

  But Ed Hooper’s fury did nothing to stop the flow of customers to Farmer Ben’s Market or the flow of money into the Bens’ pockets. By mid-October, Farmer Ben had made enough money to rehire Jake, fix Old Bess’s milking machine, and buy a brand-new tractor. And there was plenty left over to keep paying the cubs to do chores and help Mrs. Ben at the market.

  Things were going so well on the farm that Farmer Ben’s gloomy mood vanished. But he still wasn’t quite his old jolly self. One day, when the cubs stopped by the farmhouse for some milk and cookies after work, they found Farmer Ben staring at the portraits of his ancestors again, looking very serious indeed.

  “What’s wrong, Farmer Ben?” asked Sister.

  “Oh, hi, cubs,” said Ben. “Nothing’s wrong. At least, not yet. I was just hoping for some ideas from my ancestors about what to do if Hooper lowers his prices.”

  “You mean the way he did to drive the grocery stores out of business?” asked Cousin Fred.

  “Exactly,” said Ben. “If he lowers his prices far enough, he’ll get most of his customers back. And if I start losing customers, I won’t be able to keep up the payments on the new tractor. Or buy seed and fertilizer for next spring’s crops.”

  “But if Hooper can run you out of business by lowering his prices,” said Brother, “why hasn’t he done it already?”

  Farmer Ben chuckled. “Hard to say,” he said. “Maybe he just can’t stand the idea of one little old farmer forcing him to lower his prices.”

  Chapter 7

  Dark Days

  For a few more days, things continued to go smoothly on the farm. But when Ben and the cubs went out to the apple orchard to pick apples one fine morning, they found that every single apple was wormy.

  Farmer Ben held an apple up to the sunlight and squinted at it. “Can’t understand it,” he said. “I sprayed the orchard with bug killer less than a week ago.”

  That was bad enough. But the very next afternoon, something else happened. Ben and the cubs went to herd the cows back into the barn and found one of the pasture gates wide open.

  “Can’t understand it,” said Ben. “I made sure this gate was latched when I let the cows out of the barn this morning.”

  “Where are they?” Sister wondered.

  Farmer Ben scanned the horizon
. “Oh, no!” he moaned. “They’re way out yonder in the onion grass! They’ll be putting out onion-flavored milk for a week!”

  And that wasn’t the last thing that went wrong that week. The next morning was Saturday, and Ben and the cubs went out to the fields bright and early. It was time to harvest the corn, which Ben would sell to a popcorn company in Big Bear City. But as they took a shortcut across the cow pasture, Ben sniffed the air and held up a hand to stop them. “Do I smell smoke?” he said.

  “Look over there!” cried Lizzy. “The cornfield must be on fire!”

  Sure enough, an orange glow was visible in the distance. Sooty black smoke rose from it into the dawn sky. Ben and the cubs broke into a run. By the time they reached the cornfield, the fire was almost out.

  Ben gazed grimly at his smoking cornfield. All over the charred ground lay thousands of ears of corn. The fire hadn’t destroyed them. It had done a different kind of damage.

  “This is terrible!” said Ben. “I can’t sell my corn to the popcorn company if it’s already popped!”

  “How did the fire start?” Babs wondered.

  As Farmer Ben thought, his expression got grimmer. “Wormy apples, a pasture gate left open, and now this,” he said. “It can’t be a coincidence.”

  “Do you mean someone set the fire on purpose?” asked Queenie.

  “Yep,” said Ben. “And left the pasture gate open. And hosed the bug spray off those apples.”

  “Well, at least you still have your prize pumpkins,” said Brother. “Won’t selling them get you all the way through Thanksgiving?”

  But Farmer Ben didn’t look relieved. “My pumpkins!” he cried. “We’d better check them right away!”