Scarecrow (5 page)

I pressed her hand, deciding I couldn’t bring up what I’d been thinking all morning—that I had to get home.

“Come on!” Franny called, and we came up to where she stood in the middle of the garden, arms straight out at her sides, futilely trying to hide the figure leaning over her shoulder. Then with a triumphant laugh, she stepped aside, revealing the scarecrow in all its pristine glory.

It was an angel.

At least that’s the first thing I thought as I gazed at it, but after a split second of wonder, I chuckled in appreciation. Two stakes had been fastened together in the form of a cross, and draped from the horizontal limbs was a long gown, once white, now dingy and tattered and immodestly threadbare. And yet in the morning breeze it
did
almost look like fragile wings folding and unfolding around the frail figure. It had no actual head to speak of, but a delicate wreath had been woven with bits of white ribbon and remnants of lace, and this, like a holy crown, hung around the scarecrow’s slender neck.

Franny took one of the scarecrow’s outstretched arms. “Well, what do you think?”

I couldn’t hold back a laugh. “Why, it’s wonderful! How did you ever think of it?”

“Rachel did. She’s Rachel’s scarecrow.”

Rachel blushed with pleasure. “I like to think of her as my guardian angel…you know, watching over my garden.”

“An avenging angel, then.” I smiled. “Really, she’s just so clever.”

“Oh, but wait till you see the others,” Rachel said modestly. “They’re lots better than mine.”

“It’s a real contest,” Franny giggled as Rachel nodded in agreement. “We spend all year thinking of what we’ll make the next time. We all try to outdo each other—”

“Except for Seth,” Rachel clarified.

“No, he thinks we’re all silly for doing it,” Franny sighed. “But we do it anyhow. We always have. I mean, I can hardly remember coming to live here, but I can surely remember all those scarecrows all the years I was growing up.”

“Yes, it’s been a long time,” Rachel said.

Franny tugged on my arm for emphasis. “Why, every spring, Rachel would say okay now, we gotta get the scarecrows put up. And we’re still doing it—it’s still just as much fun.”

“So what do you do exactly? Just go through old clothes and scraps and put them all together? And then they scare away the crows, right?”

“Well, they don’t
always
scare the crows,” Franny admitted. “I reckon now they’re for good luck, more than anything else.” She skipped ahead, slowed down, came back. “Look—there’s Micah’s over there.” She pointed to another scarecrow farther away, and I nodded.

“And over there’s the truck patch,” Rachel explained. “Where we plant potatoes and sweet potatoes and cow peas.”

“And sweet corn,” Franny added.

“Yes, but most of the corn is farther away from the house, back past the cow pastures.” Rachel shaded her eyes and swept one arm toward the slope facing us.

Franny turned back to me. “My scarecrow’s on the other side of the house, in the orchard—and Girlie’s is around the front by the road.”

I was silent for a moment, thinking. “Then there aren’t any more scarecrows close to the house? Any I could have seen from my window?”

Their faces were blank.

“Not that I know about,” Rachel said. “What do you mean?”

I was surprised that Franny even remembered. “She thought she saw someone moving around outside after dark.” She avoided Rachel’s eyes and shrugged. “Probably a deer or something.”

“We have lots of deer around here,” Rachel said quickly. Her voice seemed strained. “It couldn’t have been anyone else, Pamela, there’s nobody here but us.” She turned and began to follow after Franny.

“Rachel,” I caught up to her, taking her arm, “were you or Franny in my room last night before I came downstairs?”

“Why, no,” Rachel thought back, glancing at Franny who also shook her head. “We were all in the parlor when you came down, and in the kitchen before that. Why?”

“Oh, nothing, it’s not important.” I forced a smile. “I guess you’re right about that deer. It was dark and I was awfully tired—”

“It’s easy to mistake things for something else—specially when you’re not used to a place.” Rachel paused. “Is something funny?”

I felt the faint smile on my lips as a memory of Brad swept over me. “Oh…I was just thinking of something someone told me once. About not fighting strawmen.”
You’re so scared of everything, Pam, he’d said, you’ve got to learn to do things on your own and quit scaring yourself…

“Strawmen? You mean scarecrows?” Franny looked quizzical. “Why, scarecrows can’t fight, you—”

“That’s just it,” I explained. “They
look
scary but they’re not really dangerous. Sort of like…empty fears.” For a moment I could actually hear Brad lecturing me, laughing at my needless worries, and I brought myself sharply back.
Now why did I suddenly think of that?
I forced another smile. “I’m sure I made a mistake about seeing someone, like you said.”

Rachel was quick to reassure me. “Why, I’d die of fright in a city, I reckon.”

“Then you’ve always lived out here?”

“With my pa first, and then at Seth’s old homeplace with his folks till he could build this place for us.”

“That must have been hard, living with his parents. How did you ever stand it?” I meant it more as an inside joke, but Rachel’s calm eyes clouded with some dark emotion. Franny, bored with our discussion now, rushed on ahead to pick some late-blooming wildflowers, and I reached for Rachel’s arm.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it to sound—”

“Don’t be silly, it’s nothing.” And the troubled eyes went clear again as they rested on me. “I was just thinking how I hadn’t remembered all that in so long.” A smile played across her lips; some stray wisps of hair curled around her face. “They thought we were too young,” she said softly. “And I’m not the one they’d have picked for Seth if they’d had a choice.” One slender hand trailed the scar on her cheek. “I tried so hard to please them, but I had Franny with me. She was only four—”

“Yes, she told me.”

“And they never seemed to understand…”

“Oh, families!” I rolled my eyes. “They’re impossible.”

Rachel stared at me, then laughed. “We all have our times, I reckon. But tell me about
your
family.”

“Well…I have two brothers. Andy and Steve. Both of them are lawyers, and neither of them have time to get married. My sister Liz and I are good friends, but I don’t think we could ever live under the same roof without fighting.”

Rachel’s eyes dropped, then settled on my face. “And what about your husband?” she asked quietly. “What about the wedding ring you’re wearing?”

My heart froze, my stomach twisting into knots that threatened to choke me. Without thinking I touched my wedding band and through a muffled roar I heard someone say, “Well, what do you think?”

Franny ran up, pushing between us, hands on her hips. “Well, that’s Micah’s, take a good look—enough to make your hair stand on end, even if it
doesn’t
scare a single darn crow!”

I hadn’t really been paying attention as we walked, so I hadn’t really seen the scarecrow until now…

Now I stared into the loose black folds of a flapping coat…two bony arms dangling…huge black gloves that were limp, lifeless hands…

And then, horribly, it came to life.

One ragged sleeve lifted and beckoned…the empty hat that had no head, swaying now, struggling to pull itself upright…

Flabby fingers flew up and brushed across my face.

You’re meant to be here.

And even as I shrieked and peeled the clinging fingers from my skin, I knew that Death had followed me again.

“I
T’S THE WIND!” RACHEL
cried, shaking me. “Pamela, stop it now. You’re all
right.
”

And through my screams came Rachel’s voice, oddly distorted, distant and unreal.
Death’s found me, Rachel…but he won’t take me…and it will never end…

“Here, sit her down!”

“Pamela, stop hollering now, honey. It’s all right, you hear? You’re all right—”

“Oh, Rachel, I feel just awful! I’m the one who made her come—”

“Quick, go find Seth.”

“No,” I gasped, and I clutched at my throat, fighting to breathe. “No…really…I’m…fine…”

“Go get Seth!” Rachel ordered Franny again. “Now! Go!”

“No…please…” But Rachel was forcing me to sit down, the black visage looming over me with billowing robes.

“Oh, Lord, I should have made you eat something…I
knew
it was too soon…I knew and I let you go anyhow…” Rachel whipped off her shawl and covered me from the wind—and for one moment I
wanted
to tell her,
needed
to tell her, because somehow I was sure that Rachel, of all people, would know and understand. “Don’t worry now, we’ll get you back inside where it’s nice and warm.” And I opened my mouth to tell her, to let it go, but it hung there, choking me, and the moment was gone.

The world grew still again. My mind cleared and I tried to stand, but Rachel pushed me firmly back.

“Oh, Rachel,” I whispered, “I feel so silly—”

“Mercy, just listen to you,” Rachel tried to keep her tone light, but failed to hide the worry in her voice. “Here we are dragging you all over creation and back, and you go on apologizing…” Her arms tightened around me in a quick hug. “Now everything’s gonna be just fine, you hear? Here’s Seth, now don’t you fret—”

“No, Rachel, really, I can walk.” And I tried again to stand, to escape from those piercing dark eyes before they came back, but it was too late, they were there, between me and Death and the blue, blue sky, coming closer, so close now that I could look deep into their blackness and never touch bottom. “Please…” I said again, but my words were lost as Seth roughly swung me up into his arms and began walking back toward the house, Franny and Rachel hurrying along behind.

“Trouble,” Seth muttered, his eyes straight ahead. “I knew it.”

“I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble,” I began, then feeling sick, closed my eyes, opening them again to find him scowling at me. His shirt smelled of earth and leaves and wood smoke. “I don’t know what happened,” I finished lamely. “The scarecrow…”

He grunted something unintelligible, and in one effortless movement ducked through the back door and strode into the kitchen.

I was deposited roughly into a chair while Rachel rushed around making tea and Franny kept up a tireless chatter about how pleased Micah would be that his scarecrow had worked on
something.
Seth disappeared without a word. Rachel finally sent Franny off to fetch honey from the cellar, and for a brief while there was peace.

“You better now?” Rachel asked, working one hand beneath the bandage on my forehead. “You don’t feel feverish. That’s good.”

“Really, I don’t know what happened out there, but I feel fine now. Please don’t worry about me.”

Rachel’s palm rested on my cheek. “You could never be a bother.” She smiled. “Warm enough?”

After the fresh morning chill, the kitchen was beginning to feel uncomfortably stuffy. “Maybe a little too warm.” I fanned weakly at my face, glancing at the stove where Rachel was fixing me a late breakfast.

“Go sit out on the porch then. But just
sit
now, don’t go walking around and get to screaming again.”

She was so serious that I had to hide a smile. “No, I won’t.”

I made my way through the front hall without any more mishap, but my heart sank when I saw Seth out there on the porch, one boot propped on the railing, hands laced around a steaming cup of coffee. For an instant I considered turning back, but the floor creaked loudly underfoot and I knew he’d already heard me. Taking a deep breath I pushed open the screen and walked out. Seth kept staring out across the yard as if he were completely alone.

“It’s hot in there,” I ventured, feeling I needed to explain my unwanted presence. When he didn’t respond, I added, “Thank you again.”

Seth looked impassively toward the sky, up through the gnarled branches of an oak that clustered around the overhang of the porch.

Feeling foolish, I stammered, “I really feel so badly about all this—”

His eyes shifted. “I don’t have time to be stopping my work every few minutes just ’cause you can’t keep up. I’ve got a farm to run.”

“Please, I never wanted them to call you in the first place. The last thing I want to do is be a disruption. I…I know I don’t fit in—”

“You never will.” He took a sip of coffee, his lips lingering at the rim of the cup as he continued to watch me.

I glanced away, unsettled by his scrutiny. “I want very much to get home,” I said quietly. When he didn’t answer, I stole a look at him. It was hard to tell how old he was. With his harsh face, the few strands of gray highlighting his beard and the tawny mane of his hair, he could have been Brad’s age or older, anywhere from thirty to midforty. It was this place, I realized suddenly—the wind and dust, the years of hard work—that had worn such a mysterious air of timelessness about him.

Looking away again, I heard him sigh as he set his cup down on the porch banister.

“Rachel’s happy,” he said, but more to himself than to me.

I glanced up to see him regarding me grudgingly.

“With you here,” he said. “I haven’t seen her this happy in a long, long time.”

“She’s been so sweet to me. Everyone here is so—”

“You don’t know us,” Seth cut me off. “You’re not part of it.”

I puzzled a moment over that remark. “Part of what? Your world here?”

He flung the last of his coffee onto the ground. “Outsiders always think they know best. About things they’ll never understand.”

I wasn’t sure what he meant, nor was I sure what to say. Finally I reminded him, “Really, all I’m trying to do is get home.”

Seth gazed out at the endless hills. “You’ll never get home.”

It sounded so final, so fatal. My heart clutched coldly in my chest, and I forced myself to take one step closer to him.

“I only need to call someone. Rachel said you have a wagon—do you think you could just drive me to a neighbor’s?”

“Dewey doesn’t have a phone.”