Story Fragment: THE SACRED SCARECROW

IMG_1126

Here’s a piece of a story that takes place in October – exploring what happens to an insular community when a man moves into their local haunted house, threatening to set off a curse that may or may not be real. Paranoia, violence and autumnal creepiness ensue; but this is just the beginning. 

Afternoon was slinking across the grass when the truck rolled away. The children stopped to watch on their way home. Speculation ran like a live wire across the block and into the network of streets, cul du sacs, from the low-rent ranch houses to the Tudors looming on the hill, all the way through Main Street where the shops had just started to close. Still, there was no sign of the new occupant. One brave girl even cried out, “Who’s in there!” to the dark windows; when no one responded, most of the children filtered out to go finish their homework. It was getting dark, after all, and that part of the neighborhood was undesirable after sunset. Only the most curious children stayed – and a quiet ripple of shock went through them when the front door opened to reveal a man’s silhouette, thin and unfamiliar, standing on the porch.

“Well!” he said in a bright voice that made them all flinch. “Are you the welcoming committee?”

He waited for a reply, and laughed when they just watched. “Oh, come on, I don’t bite,” he said. “I’m happy to be here after waiting so long, with the renovation and all. Such a pretty town. You all must like it here very much.”

His smile drooped when the children continued to stare, and he turned as if to go back inside. Then, from the back of the crowd, a reedy voice called: “What about the scarecrow?”

The other children stepped aside to reveal a pinkish boy in suspenders, wrinkling his nose at the new occupant. His stare was matter-of-fact, without a hint of apprehension, and it caused the man to step back. “The…” he started, then the grin returned to his face. “Oh, that old guy back there?” He pointed to the field, where the scarecrow stood, and had done since anyone in town could remember. Its cracked leather face, whose features were inexplicably accurate, tilted toward the children; gazing with deep sockets that didn’t accept light any longer. Even as the man gestured, the children made sure they didn’t look. They knew it well enough.

After a long moment, the pinkish boy said, “What are you going to do if it moves?”

Advertisements

One Response to “Story Fragment: THE SACRED SCARECROW”

  1. […] For the first SACRED SCARECROW fragment, CLICK HERE.  […]

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

w

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: