The scarecrow’s first memory was of opening his eyes to see the face of the man who had sung him to life. He was a very simple doll, being of simple build and features. He was dressed in old clothes and stuffed with the remainder of the last harvest. He was no ordinary doll though. A scarecrow’s very existence was tied to the wellbeing of the farm it looked after. The doll looked into the face of the man. It was a serious yet friendly face.
A second face, that of a woman came into view. She had an equally serious expression and lifted him gently from the chair on which he was seated. Through his embroidered eyes he saw the man rise and move to the center of the room, standing with his arms outstretched. The little scarecrow could not understand the words that were said. Instead, he was filled with a knowing, that this man and woman had summoned him to guard them, and that he very much wanted to. For as long as he remained in the field, it would be safe from attack by forest folk who disliked the humans.
The woman placed him upon a shelf and spoke to him again. The words were a mystery, though he knew he could hear threats clearly, could see for miles in any weather, and most importantly, would be given the gift of walking at the spring full moon.
Over the next month, all the household touched and spoke to him. They used words like “loved”, “important”, “family” and the scarecrow was filled with a knowing of happiness. Each night, when the family ate, they would bring him a stein of the house ale. He felt the devotion and love in the act and grew a deep affection for the humans. He felt a special bond with the small girl, who would bring him her treats to share and spoke to him for hours.
The scarecrow could see the first field from his shelf, through a large sunny window. It seemed to stretch for miles, and he could not wait to be in it. He could see his elder, the scarecrow who currently guarded the fields, perched atop his high seat in the center of the scene. With a slumped back, and a mournful expression, the older guardian watched the workers and would warn them of any incoming dangers. At night he walked the fields, defending the hard work of the humans from the greed and mayhem of the forest folk.
The scarecrow did not understand the elder guardian’s somber mood. He was filled with a knowing that the humans were kind and loving of him as well. Did he not have the same feeling for the humans? The little doll supposed the elder may have more knowing, and he hoped never to know that mood himself.
When the harvest was finished, and the fields had given up what bounty it would for the year, the humans brought the elder one inside. He knew with the fields covered in snow; the humans did not need the guardian to stay outside. The scarecrow watched as the elder was seated at the table, a full meal such as the humans themselves ate placed before him. The expression on the elder’s face never lightened, the younger one noticed with confusion.
At length the humans gathered him up and began using words in what sounded like a tune to the little doll. He watched from his shelf as they placed him atop a large pile of wood. The scarecrow’s knowing of happiness was shattered as the humans set the wood alight. He watched with horror as the humans grew louder with their tune words, too loud for them to hear the screams as the elder scarecrow became dust.
The little doll took up the screaming when the elder’s had died off. He finally understood his mood and was filled with a knowing that he would die the same way. He watched as the humans each smeared the ashes of the dead scarecrow on themselves, before scooping the remaining ashes into a pail. The man and woman walked into the fields with the pail, the remainder of the humans returning to the house to finish feasting.
The cries of the scarecrow ceased as a large shadow filled the window. As it came closer, he saw the shape of a large dog come into view.
“Why do you cry little one? Your wail has moved me, and I would assist you if I could” despite the growl the voice sounded warm and friendly to the little doll.
The scarecrow explained what the humans did, and that he did not wish to die. The dog listened with sympathy to the poor doll’s tale. As his terror waned, he grew suspicious of the newcomer. He demanded to know who he was.
“I am known as a shadow wolf. I guard the edges of the fields. You might say we work together, you guarding the inside of the fields and I keeping the forest out. I have watched year after year as the ungrateful humans burn the ones who keep them safe. But I have a plan.”
The shadow wolf offered to distract the humans, long enough for the scarecrow to run away. The little doll was hesitant, knowing it was a rule of his being that he never left the land he was tied to. But these rules came from the ones who would burn him. The shadow wolf sensed his hesitation.
“They would not be completely defenseless. Remember I roam the edges of the field, and there are others of my kind who watch the humans. We will keep them safe as you seek your freedom.” The doll’s determination was set then. The shadow wolf agreed to return in the spring, when the humans would perform the spring full moon ceremonies and the scarecrow received the ability to walk.
The winter was a trial, and though the scarecrow was given the same love and adoration as before, his days were filled with a fear he would be harmed before the spring ritual, and his love of the humans was smeared with dread. Even the little girl, with her sweet face and happy tones could not soothe his spirit.
The spring full moon finally arrived. The man spoke to the scarecrow, his voice creating a surge of energy within the scarecrow. For the briefest of moments, the connection of love returned as the energy pooled in his legs and he stood for the first time. He looked at the man and woman with wonder, until he saw the cart through the door. He had half a mind to run, but by then the girl had taken hold of his hand. He knew he would not have gotten far at any rate, as he was still very shaky on his legs. The girl led him to the cart and sat with him as they drove to the edge of the field.
When the family arrived, the man lifted the scarecrow, and raising him in the air, began marching him around the fields he was to guard. The family used tones and words of praise and love, and the knowing of protectiveness began to infuse him. Had he not seen the ash on the cart, he might have dwelled in the feeling. But he was reminded of the elder’s fate. He knew one day the family would burn him too. He knew sadness, as he did not want to think of the family as his foe.
The shadow wolf watched from the field’s edge. The scarecrow saw him and was filled with hope again. He had a plan, though the longer the humans used their tune words the less he wanted to leave. He fought against the feeling of family that descended on him. Families do not burn one another. He struggled, telling himself over and over that he need only make it through the evening.
Upon returning home, the family placed him on a chair next to the door and retired for the evening. The shadow wolf appeared in the window and asked if the scarecrow still wanted to proceed with the plan. The little doll, with a heavy feeling, agreed. The shadow wolf advised the scarecrow to be off with the first light, stating he would take care of the rest.
The dawn rose, and the scarecrow along with it. As quietly as he could, he tiptoed to and out through the door. He was surprised not to hear any movements from the farm hands but took advantage of this luck. He ran as fast as his legs would go, fearing all the while the man or the woman would spot him. He only slowed when he realized he was beyond the edge of the field.
Here he stopped, elated and confused. He had not considered what he would do now. His entire thought had been freedom, not what he would do with it once achieved. He was disoriented, as every fiber of his being wanted him to go back within the field he was tied to. He froze on the spot, and he warred with himself as the need to protect his field became overwhelming.
The wind shifted, bringing with it the smell of the little girl. The scarecrow felt a knowing of regret for her, as well as nervousness. She was too young to be in the fields alone, and he feared she may have come searching for him. Torn between the fear of being caught, and fear of her safety, he went back into the fields, his goal to send her home.
As he walked, the strength of her scent increased, along with another. He did not recognize the metallic tang to the air, but he knew he should have been spotted by a few humans by now, and his knowing of fear grew.
Upon reaching the home yard, the scent became overwhelming. The scarecrow grew frantic, tripping over a log he had not seen. When he looked down, he realized what he thought was a log was a foot. Wild with terror, he spun around, noticing for the first time the human limbs strewn around. He sped to the house.
The scarecrow entered and found a scattered assortment of bodies. He found the little girl’s bracelet. Had he been able to, he would have cried. His shock was still so great he could make no sound as he moved through the house. Stumbling through the carnage, he found the shadow wolf in the main room, still chewing on an arm as he entered. A small gasp escaped him then, and the wolf looked up. When he recognized the scarecrow it let out a low laugh.
“I am known as a shadow wolf. I haunt the edges of the fields. You might say I am your enemy, you guarding the fields to try and keep me out. I have watched year after year as the scarecrow kin keep the forest kind out, waiting for a chance to enter but never being able while the guardians were in the fields. I waited and waited for the right moment, when a new scarecrow would be made and the humans would be careless with timing. I knew if I could get to one before the creation rites were complete, I might persuade them to leave. I did not anticipate your willingness though.”
The scarecrow stood in despair as the shadow wolf picked up the arm in its mouth and left. He watched as the wolf strode out, chuckling to itself. He stood in the gore-soaked house for a long time, his mind racing on what he had done and what to do now. With a soul heavy with knowing he did not want, he took the girl’s bracelet and walked into the fields determined to let none of the forest kind ever enter again.
C.M. Wellsmore 