مترسک شبگرد فصل 25

The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight - Chapter 25

“Go warn your grandparents!” Sticks cried. “Hurry! Go tell them what my dad has done!” Mark and I hesitated. We stared at the scarecrows as they stretched their arms and rolled their burlap bag heads, as if waking up after a long sleep.

“Jodie—look!” Mark choked out in a hushed whisper. He pointed out to the fields.

I gasped in horror as I saw what Mark was staring at.

All over the field, dark-coated scarecrows were stretching, squirming, lowering themselves from their poles.

More than a dozen of them, silently coming to life.

“Run!” Sticks was screaming. “Go! Tell your grandparents!”

Stanley stood frozen in place, gripping the book in both hands. He stared in amazement, shaking his head, enjoying his triumph.

Sticks’ face was knotted with fear. He gave my shoulders a hard shove. “Run!” The scarecrows were rolling their heads back and forth, stretching out their straw arms. The dry scratch of straw filled the night air.

I forced myself to take my eyes off them. Mark and I turned and started running through the cornfield. We pushed the tall stalks away with both hands as we ran. We ducked our heads low, running in terrified silence.

We ran across the grass, past the guest house. Past the dark, silent barn.

The farmhouse loomed darkly ahead of us. The windows were dark. A dim porch light sent a circle of yellow light over the back porch.

“Hey—!” Mark shouted, pointing.

Grandpa Kurt and Grandma Miriam must have heard our shouts back in the cornfields. They were waiting for us in the back yard.

They looked frail and frightened. Grandma Miriam had pulled a flannel bathrobe over her nightdress. She had a scarf tied over her short red hair.

Grandpa Kurt had pulled his overalls on over his pajamas. He leaned heavily on his cane, shaking his head as Mark and I came running up.

“The scarecrows—!” I exclaimed breathlessly.

“They’re walking!” Mark cried. “Stanley—he—”

“Did you get Stanley upset?” Grandpa Kurt asked, his eyes wide with fear. “Who got Stanley upset? He promised us he wouldn’t do it again! He promised—if we didn’t upset him.” “It was an accident!” I told him. “We didn’t mean to. Really!”

“We’ve worked so hard to keep Stanley happy,” Grandma Miriam said sadly. She chewed her lower lip. “So hard…” “I didn’t think he’d do it,” Grandpa Kurt said, his eyes on the cornfields. “I thought we convinced him it was too dangerous.” “Why are you dressed like that?” Grandma Miriam asked Mark.

I was so frightened and upset, I had completely forgotten that Mark was still dressed as a scarecrow.

“Mark, did you dress like that to scare Stanley?” Grandma Miriam demanded.

“No!” Mark cried. “It was supposed to be a joke! Just a joke!”

“We were trying to scare Sticks,” I told them. “But when Stanley saw Mark, he…” My voice trailed off as I saw the dark figures step out of the cornfields.

In the silvery moonlight, I saw Stanley and Sticks. They were running hard, leaning forward as they ran. Stanley held the book in front of him. His shoes slipped and slid over the wet grass.

Behind them came the scarecrows. They were moving awkwardly, staggering, lurching silently forward.

Their straw arms stretched straight forward, as if reaching to grab Stanley and Sticks. Their round, black eyes glowed blankly in the moonlight.

Staggering, tumbling, falling, they came after Stanley and Sticks. A dozen twisted figures in black coats and hats. Leaving clumps of straw as they pulled themselves forward.

Grandma Miriam grabbed my arm and squeezed it in terror. Her hand was as cold as ice.

We watched Stanley fall, then scramble to his feet. Sticks helped pull him up, and the two of them continued to run toward us in terror.

The silent scarecrows lurched and staggered closer. Closer.

“Help us—please!” Stanley called to us.

“What can we do?” I heard Grandpa Kurt mutter sadly.