Valley of the Scarecrow

Valley of the Scarecrow

Gord Rollo

Published by Ashbury Creek Media, 2016.

Table of Contents

Copyright

Prologue

1

2

3

4

5

6

7

8

9

10

11

12

13

14

15

16

17

18

19

20

21

22

23

24

25

26

27

28

29

30

31

32

33

The Last Straw

Also by Gord Rollo

The Jigsaw Man

Strange Magic

Valley of the Scarecrow

The Translators

Crowley’s Window

The Dark Side of Heaven

Peeler

Gods & Monsters Vol. 1

Time & Space Vol. 2

Flesh & Blood Vol. 3

Copyright © 2016 by Gord Rollo

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system without permission in writing from the author.

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance it bears to reality is entirely coincidental.

Published by Ashbury Creek Media

Ontario, Canada

Book & Cover Design by Adam Geen

www.adamgeen.com

Cover Image (Cornfield) by Andreea

www.frozenstocks.deviantart.com

Cover Image (Scarecrow) by Valeriana

www.valerianastock.deviantart.com

PROLOGUE

Oak Valley, Iowa - March 1984

Lair Of The Scarecrow

He waits.

Hungry, thirsty, and full of primal rage.

It’s dark in here and incredibly hot, but he can see enough to know the floor has collapsed in places, the lush green cornstalks growing right up through the gaps in the boards and entwining around his long withered legs. He’s stood here so long he sometimes believes this was always his calling: to be a witness, a sentinel, a guardian endlessly standing watch over the bountiful corn. Sometimes he believes there is more to his existence than that.

What am I, he wonders? Man or beast? Some days he even knows the answer. He remembers talking in front of a large group of people in this very place once but has no idea what he could have possibly been saying. The fractured memories make him angry again, and he spirals back down into numbing madness, the only true home he knows. He tries to move, to tear himself free, to flex his shriveled sunken muscles but has lost the ability. Or was it taken? He can’t remember.

Bound tightly in place but free to kill again and again in the bloody fantasies of his dehydrated mind. He yearns for release but can barely remember what it was like to actually use his arms and legs. Freedom is only a nightmare now, a curse to haunt his rare moments of lucid thought, but when he does think clearly, he remembers what the village elders did to him all those long years ago and how he vowed to make them pay.

Someday they’ll come back. He will be ready.

With a bone dry tongue and mummified, paper thin lips, he tries to speak for the first time in ages. Decades maybe. A bastardized snippet of words whispered from a long forgotten book he used to read.

Vengeance will be mine, sayeth the Scarecrow…

Then he settles down to rest; to watch over the corn.

Days pass. Weeks. Months. Years.

Still, he waits…

1

Cedar Rapids, Iowa – October, 2010

Harvest Festival

The last thing Kelly Tucker expected to see on her way to this year’s Harvest Festival was a dead body. It just wasn’t the sort of situation anyone expected to have to deal with on your average second date. Nervous tension, awkward silences, overly hormonal boys, bad hair, garlic breath, or underarm perspiration — sure — but coming face to face with an accidentally exhumed corpse definitely hadn’t been something on Kelly’s worry list at the start of the evening.

If they’d taken Blake’s car like originally planned they’d have missed the whole debacle but it had been such a warm, beautiful autumn night, Kelly had suggested they leave his black BMW at her place and walk to the nearby fairgrounds. Parking would be a nightmare there anyway, and besides, the walk would give them time to talk and get to know each other better.

It’ll let him see how fabulous my legs look in this new skirt too, Kelly thought, a naughty smile curling the corners of her mouth. At five foot ten, she was rather tall for a woman but with her tanned athletic body and shoulder-length California blonde hair, no one had ever complained before. Besides, people were always telling her she should be a runway model because she was ‘all legs’ and what guy in his right mind would criticize that? Definitely not Blake, not if he knew what was good for him. Or if he ever wants a third date.

Kelly had met Blake this past July at an Iowa State B-B-Q for the 2010 graduates. Both were twenty-two years old and had finished near the top of their classes but where Kelly had studied business and wanted to open her own restaurant someday, Blake Wheeler was a science major and had already been accepted into the prestigious school of dentistry, the cornerstone of the university’s graduate program. If truth be told, Kelly had thought Blake was a bit of a stuffed shirt when they’d met; a blonde haired blue eyed rich kid from Des Moines whose family had made a fortune in agriculture. He had undeniable good looks but fell flat on his pretty-boy face in the personality department. She’d snubbed his early advances easily enough because she’d still been seeing Dan Sawyer, her high school sweetheart, and had only agreed to finally go out with Blake after she and Dan had decided to call their relationship quits. Blake was her rebound guy; the polar opposite of her old boyfriend, who had dropped out of school at seventeen to start up his own lawn care and landscaping company.

To be fair to Blake, their first date had gone surprisingly decent. Not great, but better than expected. He’d taken her out to an inexpensive dinner and a movie and hadn’t once tried to impress her with his family’s obvious money. He’d actually been kind of cool and funnier than she remembered from school. Hell, he hadn’t even tried to grope her like most boys would have so Kelly gave him a solid B for effort and had agreed to this date, remaining on guard but hoping for the best.

Unfortunately it wasn’t starting off very well.

I still don’t get it why you’d want to walk when we have a brand new car sitting back in your driveway? Blake asked. I mean, really…it’s a BMW for god’s sake!

Uh-oh, she thought. Strike one if you’re trying to impress me with your fancy car, dude. I don’t give a damn what you drive.

"Oh come on. Look at that setting sun… it’s way too nice of a night to drive. Besides, it’s only a few more blocks; I’m sure you’ll make it. If you’re a good boy I’ll buy you a caramel apple."

You’re kidding, I hope? How will I ever be a dentist if you’re gonna rot my teeth out before I even get through my first semester? No way. No sugar for me and to be honest, you really shouldn’t have any either. Who wants a wife with black teeth?

Wife? Gimmie a break! It’s only our second date, Blake. Cart before the horse, don’t you think? Kelly was fuming a little inside, thinking he was being a big baby about the candy suggestion. It was the Harvest Festival after all. If a person couldn’t cut loose and live it up a little at the annual fall fair, when could they?

What? No, that’s not what I meant. I…I just meant umm…

Right, Kelly interrupted, saving him from making a bigger fool of himself. I’ll remember to floss twice tonight, okay? She almost added, Dan would’ve eaten the whole damn tray of apples if I’d offered, but held it in. That would have been a terrible mistake and she reminded herself she had to stop thinking about her ex-boyfriend and get on with life. Dan was yesterday; Blake was…well, Blake was Blake.

Sure. Whatever, he said.

They walked along Main Street, headed downtown, the tension in the air a bit thicker than Kelly was comfortable with and she was just starting to wonder what her friends Lizzy and Rich were up to right about now when Blake grabbed her arm and yanked her to a stop.

Wow! Look at the Paramount, he said, jabbing his manicured finger across the street. What the heck’s going on?

Kelly followed his finger over to the Paramount Theatre, a six story brick building that was arguably the most famous tourist attraction in the city. Until fairly recently, it had been a beautifully restored example of a 1920s vaudeville palace and silent movie hall and inside was one of the country’s few remaining full size Wurlitzer theater pipe organs. The city had spent an incredible amount of money repairing the building back in 1975 and then again in 2003, but all their hard work had been ruined by the great flood in the late spring of 2008. On June 11 of that year, the Cedar River had risen an incredible 32 feet over its banks and flooded virtually the entire downtown core. The mess was cleaned up once the waters receded, of course, but the repairs done to the Paramount were token measures at best. Since then, there’d been a constant push from local politicians and the historical society to restore the building again but with the way the economy was stuck in a rut, it was going to be a while before anything serious was attempted.

Two police cars sat idling in front of the theatre, their red lights spinning but neither had their sirens blaring. Kelly recognized the one tall cop as Matt Brown, a guy she’d gone to high school with, but had no idea who the other, more muscular officer was. Besides the cops, a group of men dressed in dusty work clothes were gathered near the front door, pushing and shoving each other trying to get a closer look at someone being carried out of the building on a makeshift stretcher.

I don’t know, Kelly said. Doesn’t look good though, does it? Someone must have got hurt.

Cool. Let’s check it out, Blake said, dashing across the road and leaving Kelly standing by herself.

Cool? She thought. What could possibly be cool about someone getting hurt? Reluctantly, Kelly crossed the street to catch up with her increasingly irritating date. It turned out the person wasn’t hurt after all. They were dead. Had been for a very long time, actually. What was left of the man on the stretcher was nothing but a husk, a dried out shell of grey skin and exposed knobs of bone. The man was naked and there were frayed ropes tied around his skeletal wrists and wrapped around his desiccated chest. His leathery eyelids were still wide open but from what Kelly could surmise from the rest of his calm face, it looked like the poor man had at least died quietly.

Gross, Kelly said, turning away so she wouldn’t be sick. The corpse was so old there wasn’t any nasty smell coming from it, thank god, but by the looks of those ropes this man definitely hadn’t died of old age. Kelly was an avid fan of horror movies and blood and gore didn’t really bother her on a T.V or the big screen, but for some reason she’d seen more than enough of this mysterious body. There was a huge difference between watching Hollywood special effects and being forced to see the ghastly remains of a real person. Come on, Blake. Let’s get out of here.

Hold on a sec…I wanna see this, he said, dodging and weaving into the gathering crowd to get as close to the body as he could.

Kelly was surprised by his behavior, but without any other option she headed back across the street and stood waiting for him to come to his senses. The longer he made her wait, the more angry and frustrated she became. Is Blake some kind of closet sicko? Does he really find that morbid old body interesting? What could he possibly be thinking? Strike two, bucko, she muttered under her breath.

Eventually, Blake came back to join her, an excited wide-eyed look on his face. Isn’t that fucking incredible? he said, totally oblivious to the fact Kelly had her arms crossed and from her body language was clearly ready to explode. She bit her tongue and let him ramble on. Unreal, man. Apparently there’s been a few work crews inside the theatre lately, working in the basement trying to install sump pumps or some damn thing. Anyway, they’re down there using a jackhammer today and all of a sudden part of the foundation wall beside them crumbles away. Inside there’s a little hidden room and this dead dude on the stretcher is tied to a chair inside. There’s no doors into the room, or windows, or nothing.

Someone sealed him inside the wall? Kelly asked, taken aback.

I guess. Isn’t that great?

Great? Kelly said, What’s wrong with you? Someone’s been murdered and you’ve got a big smile on your face. It’s horrible for god’s sake. I mean think about it…that’s somebody’s father or grandfather lying there.

Blake shrugged, dismissing her concerns. Who gives a shit? He’s been dead forever. Probably been in that wall for thirty or forty years. Maybe longer.

So what? Where’s your sense of compassion? He’s still part of somebody’s family you know? What if that was your relative lying over there? How great would it be for you then?

Heh…Least I’d get my inheritance sooner, right?

Wrong! Kelly said, disgusted, and started walking away. This was strike three for sure with her. Boring and arrogant she could probably put up with, but not this. Her creepy jackass alarm bells were ringing loud and clear and as far as she was concerned this date was officially over.

Hey, where you going? Blake asked. I was hoping to stay until the coroner showed up. Doubt there’s any identification on the guy so they might have to identify him using his teeth. Dental records…right up my alley, you know? I wanna stick around and watch.

Go ahead. I’m outta here.

But what about the Harvest Festival? What about our date?

Kelly stopped walking and turned to speak to Blake face-to-face. She’d always been a straight shooter and wanted him to understand things were over between them; not that they’d ever really gotten started. It wasn’t that she thought he was a psycho or anything like that; she just knew deep down they had nothing at all in common so why pretend any longer. She’d prefer to just tell it like it was and be done with it.

Forget it, Blake. The date’s over and so are we. You’re a nice guy and all but it’ll never work between us. I’d rather just make a clean break now and go away friends.

You’re breaking up with me? You’re kidding right?

Nope. Sorry.

But we were getting along just fine. What the fuck’s the problem? Don’t tell me you’re gonna go back out with that nigger again? That guy’s a total loser!

What did you just say? Kelly yelled, walking right up and getting into Blake’s face. It shocked her that there were still so many ignorant racists in the world. With so many real problems in the world, how a person’s skin color could ever become an issue was beyond her. It just made no god damned sense, and although this wasn’t the first time someone had voiced their negative opinion about her dating a black man, this was the first time anyone had ever used the N word right to her face. Who the hell do you think you are? Dan Sawyer is ten times the man you’ll ever be, asshole.

Right! He’s a high school drop-out, Kelly. A nobody. You deserve better than that. You gotta be crazy to pick him over me. Girls don’t break up with me!

Well, this one did. Go fuck yourself, Blake. Kelly started to walk away again, hoping he was smart enough to just let it drop. To his credit, ten seconds later when she glanced behind her he was already gone, back across the street with his new buddies.

Wow. Sure took him a long time to get over you. Oh well…his loss, but now what? Normally, after a bad date she’d have just gone home and had a big bowl of ice cream and maybe a good cry, but with Blake having to eventually make his way back to her place to pick up his car, she didn’t feel like going anywhere near there for a while. Besides, this egocentric bastard wasn’t worth crying over. Her only other choice was the Harvest Festival, but showing up there on her own sounded like an even worse option. God, what a loser I am!

Kelly spun around and started walking back toward the fairgrounds, which was embarrassing as it meant she had to walk past the Paramount Theatre again. Blake was staring at her and had a smug look on his face that said he thought she’d changed her mind and was coming back to beg his forgiveness. Check that…it’s him that’s the loser, not me. Screw him.

Kelly was seriously considering giving Blake the middle finger salute but before she could pull the trigger, a car pulled to a stop beside her, blocking her view. When she turned to see who it was, she squealed with delight. Inside the blue Ford Taurus were two of her most favorite people in the entire world, the couple she’d been curious about earlier tonight. Rich! Lizzy! I was wondering where you fools were tonight. Got room for a third wheel?

Always have before. Why stop now? Richard Borden said, head half hanging out the driver’s side window, his long wild hair tied back in a ponytail and hidden under an Iowa State baseball cap. Get your ass in here.

Rich worked with Kelly’s ex-boyfriend Dan, partners and friends in their Landscaping/Lawn Care business. He’d always harbored dreams of being a rock star someday but for the time being seemed content enough laying sod and trimming hedges. Maybe not as glamorous of a life as singing in a band, but it was a living and kept him in good physical shape. He was an excellent singer and played a mean bass guitar to boot, but was smart enough to know getting a record deal was damn nearly impossible; more of a high school pipe dream than reality, career-wise. Besides, he and Lizzy were far too much in love for him to ever go off on some half-baked musical tour and be away from home for weeks on end.

Lizzy McDonald had been plain old Elizabeth McDonald before meeting Rich, and for a time Kelly used to know her as Beth, but once everyone in William Tuthill High School realized how perfect of a couple they made and since Rich’s last name was Borden, it only made sense to start calling her Lizzy. Kelly always kidded them that if they got married she was buying Lizzy an axe for their wedding present; an inside joke that still made the two lovebirds smile.

Kelly ran around to the passenger side where Lizzy opened the door to let her slip in. There was nobody sitting in the backseat, but Kelly snuggled up front and pulled the door shut. She gave Lizzy a big hug and a kiss on the cheek. Lizzy was as cute as a button, a tiny woman with dark hair and a big smile who liked to wear far too much eye shadow and tease her hair up into a kinky mess that would have looked terrible on almost anyone else. On her, it looked unpretentious but sexy. She looked like one of those girls in a sorority girl horror movie, or a bad MTV music video from back in the heavy metal days. Then again, maybe that was why Rich liked her so much?

What’s going on at the Paramount? Lizzy asked.

I don’t know. They found some poor guy’s body buried in the basement or something. It’s totally gross.

Really? Rich asked. That’s weird. Hey…is that Matt Brown over there? I haven’t seen him in ages.

Yeah, that’s him. You guys used to be fairly tight in high school didn’t you?

Definitely. Just lost track of him. Maybe I’ll give him a call tomorrow, see if I can find out what happened here.

Shit, don’t tell me you’re interested in dead people too? Kelly asked.

Not me. If I wanted to see a dead body I’d just take Lizzy to bed. Rich burst out laughing at his own joke and rude as it was, Kelly couldn’t help but laugh too.

Fuck you, Richie! Lizzie said, smiling. "Actually, how about I don’t?"

Now now, sugar. You know you can’t go without your Tarzan for too long.

Yeah right! We’ll see. Drive the damn car, monkey boy.

Anything you say, beautiful. Rich pulled away from the Paramount Theatre and they were soon zipping along Main Street, searching for a parking spot a little closer to the fairgrounds.

So what happened to your date with Mr. Big Bucks? Lizzy asked, the tone in her voice indicating she already had a pretty good guess.

Don’t ask, Kelly said, winking at her best friend.

That bad?

Pretty much.

Anything we can do to make you feel better?

Kelly thought about Blake and about the luck she seemed to be having with men lately. Actually, yes. I want some ice cream and a caramel apple and some jelly beans and a big bag of cotton candy.

Jesus, Rich said. You’ll rot your teeth, woman.

Exactly! Step on it.

2

Cedar Rapids wasn’t a huge city by American standards, but they did boast the second largest population base in Iowa with about 140,000 people, trailing only Des Moines in that regard. The annual fall Harvest Festival was a big deal here and, as usual, it was packed beyond capacity. Kelly blended in with the crowd, munching on a big bag of buttered popcorn as she followed closely behind her friends. She wasn’t the least bit hungry anymore but she kept shoving handfuls of corn in her mouth anyway, just because it seemed like the thing to do. Lizzy and Rich walked hand in hand, forcing other people to go around them to get past, blazing a trail for Kelly to follow. They’d played a few cheesy, damn-near-unwinnable games and even squeezed all three of them into one rickety old gondola on the Ferris Wheel at the far end of the brightly lit up midway but they’d spent the vast majority of their time raiding the endless row of snack shacks and food booths. Stuffing yourself like a fool and wandering around aimlessly; those were the true reasons anyone ever went to a local fair and Kelly was determined to keep up her end of what had become a bit of a tradition.

Every year for the past five they’d gone to the fall festival together and the fact that someone in their group was missing this year wasn’t lost on her. Dan should be here holding her hand. Probably would be if he wasn’t such a moron, Kelly thought, but tried to push all those negative thoughts out of her head. She couldn’t keep living in the past, no matter how much she missed him. Best to just drop it and try to get her mind on something else.

So what did you guys do today? she asked.

Not much, Rich said. We ended up over at Dan’s place and just hung out shooting the shit for a while.

Lizzy elbowed him in the ribs. Shut up, Richie.

Why? Oh... Sorry Kelly.

No worries. It’s not your problem Dan can’t keep his pecker in his pants. He’s the one who screwed things up, not you guys.

Rich stopped walking and turned to face Kelly. The throng of people around them protested a little but soon the tide of men and women was flowing around them, the three long time friends a small island in the middle. Listen Kelly…I know nothing I can say means shit, but I honestly don’t think Dan did what you seem to think he did. Far as I know, he’s never had any interest at all in that skank and I’m being serious.

The woman in question was Tracey Bradley, a curvy red haired girl that worked at the small engine repair shop Dan and Rich had all their mowers and clippers repaired at. Kelly had noticed Dan flirting with her several times but never said anything about it until the night she’d come out of the bathroom at Bailey’s British Pub downtown and saw Dan and Tracey kissing up by the bar. Kelly knew the difference between a harmless kiss and an intimate one and she’d watched them long enough to be devastated. Kelly wasn’t a moron; she perfectly understood that Dan was a handsome man and there were lots of girls who’d be happy to take him off her hands, but she honestly didn’t think he was the womanizer type. After all those good years, she couldn’t believe he would fool around on her but the proof was ten feet away and pretty hard to misinterpret.

I saw him, Rich. We all did. Let’s just drop it, okay. Maybe we can--

I’m not saying Dan didn’t fuck up, but he isn’t sleeping with Tracey. He loves you Kelly, and always has. Christ! He’s been under a lot of stress. We…we both have.

Don’t say it, Richie, Lizzy said; then under her breath whispered, You know he doesn’t want her to know.

Know what? Kelly asked, hearing her even above the din of the crowd. What are you guys hiding? Tell me dammit! What’s so stressful he had to stick his tongue down that whore’s throat?

Lizzy looked at Rich long and hard, but eventually softened and shrugged her shoulders. Cat’s out, hon. Might as well share the cream.

Rich nodded. Yeah, but not here. Let’s get out of this bloody madhouse.

It took them twenty minutes to get back to Rich’s car, where they could finally talk in relative peace. The entire walk back through the festival, Kelly had been wracking her brain trying to think of what Rich might have to say. What could possibly be so bad Dan would keep it from her? In the end, none of her guesses were even close.

Our business is going down the drain, Rich said, not trying to sugarcoat anything. Dan and I are up to our necks in debt and even though we’ve tried pretty much everything to stay afloat, unless a miracle comes along we’ll be bankrupt in a month or two. Three if we get really lucky.

Oh my god! You gotta be kidding? When did all this happen? I thought the business was doing okay?

"It’s been heading south for a while now. The economy sucks. People are losing their jobs…losing their homes, you know? What the hell do they care if their hedges need trimming? We’ve lost a lot of our steady clients…most in fact, and