She reached the field where the carnival was set up and strode into the center of the tents, trailers, and rides. She saw that they really had outdone themselves this year. An assortment of painted red rides were scattered about, standing ready to spin, shake, and throw you every which way. Whatever! The result was always the same; it would either thrill you with the heart stopping action, or make you puke.

  Bobby Sue fell into the puke category. No, rides really weren’t her thing.

  Fanning her hand over her eyes as she peered upward, she saw a huge roller coaster, new this year, the sides painted with an image of a crow. A woman spoke suddenly by Bobby Sue’s right ear, startling her and making her jump. She gulped, feeling as if the wind had been sucked from her lungs.

  “Can I help you?” the woman asked.

  Bobby Sue turned, but before she could speak, the woman continued in a reassuring voice, “I’m no carnie, hon, I’m a gypsy.”

  She read Bobby Sue’s mind, how did she do that?

  The gypsy wore a white peasant blouse and a green dress with gold stitching that reminded Bobby Sue of something, but she couldn’t think what. The gypsy’s black hair flowed down over her shoulders, stirring in a sudden small breeze. She looked old enough to be Bobby Sue’s mother but not as old as her grandmother.

  “I’m looking for my grandmother,” she stammered.

  “Oh, but you poor thing, come into my trailer. I may be able to help you.”

  Bobby Sue backed up a few steps. “How will that help?”

  “You’ll see.” The woman gently placed her hand on the small of Bobby Sue’s back and pushed her gently toward a nearby trailer. It was painted black and was picked out with mystical symbols done in bright red paint. It blended right in with the rest of the carnival.

  Bobby Sue tripped up a few steps and stumbled into the small trailer. In the tiny living room was a little round table. Centered on the table was a globe of murky dark glass. Two chairs sat on opposite sides of the table. The walls covered with purple rugs and a fabric that reminded Bobby Sue of a bedspread.

  The woman walked around the table and sat down, motioning for Bobby Sue to sit.

  “I don’t want my fortune read,” said Bobby Sue.

  The woman placed her hands palms side up on the table. “Please sit, I mean you no harm.”

  Bobby Sue hesitated. She didn’t know if she should believe this strange woman. But she needed to find her grandmother, and maybe this wasn’t a complete waste of time. She sat down in a huff. “What now?”

  “Place your hands on mine, dear.”

  She did what the woman asked, and the woman’s head fell backward, She was either in a trance or acting. This whole thing seemed hokey, like something you’d see in a bad horror movie.

  The gypsy’s chair rocked back and forth as though being tossed about by a small earthquake.

  Bobby Sue tried to pull her hands away, but the woman held them tightly in her grip. The gypsy moaned and lurched forward onto the table, releasing Bobby Sue’s hands without warning.

  The gypsy slowly raised her head. “Caw,” she squawked.

  Bobby Sue reared back in her chair, startled by the unexpected sound and fearful.

  The gypsy’s eyes met Bobby Sue’s. She shuddered for a moment, and her eyes blinked several times. “Please leave,” the woman whispered. She pushed Bobby Sue’s hands off the table, and struggled to her feet, shaking like she was having a spasm of some sort. “Leave!”

  Bobby Sue panicked. “You said you’d help me.”

  “You’re right, I can’t help you! You need to leave now. Leave town like your grandmother did and your parents before her, or you’ll be leaving like your grandfather did.”

  Bobby Sue leapt to her feet. “What do you know about that? Who are you?”

  “You’re cursed,” the woman screeched. “If I help you, I’ll be cursed too.”

  Bobby Sue lunged over the table, grabbing the gypsy’s arms. With a strength surprising for a girl her age, Bobby Sue shook the woman like a rag doll.

  “Tell me what you know.”

  The woman screamed a hallow, disembodied sounding scream.

  Bobby Sue let the gypsy go, closed her eyes, and covered her ears to block the inhuman sounds that spewed from the woman. The cawing stopped abruptly and when Bobby Sue opened her eyes, the woman was gone.

  She yanked coverings off the table, and opened cabinets looking for the woman, spilling fabric as multi-shaped and colored bottles crashed to the floor, shattering. She spun around. Marching to the back of the trailer, she ripped aside a purple curtain. Behind the curtain was a black, wrought iron perch. Sitting atop it was a large crow, a gold chain attaching one leg to the perch.

  Bobby Sue felt the same sucking of air from her lungs that she felt outside.

  “Caw!”

  The sound was deafening and seemed to vibrate the trailer.

  She bolted, tripping over an overturned chair and fell to the floor. Shards of the broken bottles tore through her jeans and into her knee. She scrambled up and leaped out the door, stumbling down the few steps.

  She felt the blood gushing from her wounds as she ran from the carnival, past Jennifer and Jimmy, racing home. When she got there, she bandaged her knee, wrapping gauze around her leg to keep the bandages tight, hoping it would stop bleeding.

  She wanted to go and look for her grandmother, but since seeing the crow in the gypsy’s trailer, she didn’t think that was such a good idea.

  Her grandfather’s words came back to haunt her. “Bobby Sue, stay here and don’t you go outside for any reason until the crows leave!”

  But the crows hadn’t come to town yet; the one in the gypsy’s trailer doesn’t count. Plus, she felt a little queasy now. So instead of going out, Bobby Sue called everybody her grandmother even remotely knew, but they all said the same thing, they hadn’t seen her for days.

  Feeling chilled to the bone, Bobby Sue buried herself beneath her comforter. If the crows aren’t here tomorrow, she thought, I’ll ask Jennifer and Jimmy for help.

  *****

  Early the next morning, Bobby Sue scrambled from bed and threw on her a pair of jeans and a tee, and raced to the door. Looking out the window, she didn’t see any crows, so she decided to do the only thing she knew to do——make a scarecrow. But she’d need help. Maybe if, they built a scarecrow early enough, there would still be time to find her grandmother before it was too late.

  She hurried around the small town, looking for her friends. She pulled up her denim jacket as the cold wind nipped at her neck. She wouldn’t ordinarily be concerned about not finding her friends, but with the crows set to arrive anytime, they had only hours to erect a scarecrow.

  Glancing at the clock on the library, she hurried to make it in before closing time. The building was made of red brick with few windows. Her grandfather had donated the clock years ago to the library. The face of the clock didn’t have numbers of any kind, not even Roman numerals. Instead, there were a series of twelve symbols. She wondered if they were the same symbols she saw painted on the gypsy trailer from the night before.

  She didn’t know what they meant, but she knew one thing for sure, ever since the clock was set atop the four-story library, Hanover’s crops had prospered.

  Bobby Sue had lived in this town since her birth, raised first by both grandparents, then after her grandfather’s death, by her grandmother. Her parents had vanished shortly after her birth. They fled Hanover just as the crows came that year and never returned. Why they left her behind like that was still a mystery that baffled Bobby Sue.

  She walked up the steps to the library door, and yanked it open. Bobby Sue heard hushed voices as she made her way toward the history section. Stopping when she heard a small cry of frustration behind her, she turned and saw a child of about five with long blond hair pulled back with two red ribbons struggling with a large book.

  Striding across the room, Bobby Sue took it from the child and carried it to a nearby table, setting it down for her. She recognized the child as Sarah Jennings. She had on a blue dress with pink trim, most likely sewn by her mother, Mary.

  Bobby Sue smiled down at the child and said, “Hello Sarah, what are you reading today?”

  “Oh nothing you would be interested in, just some old fairy tales.”

  Bobby Sue snapped her head down to get a better look at the book. She observed the leather binding. This book certainly looked old, eighteenth century perhaps as this library had a large selection of such books.

  Reaching out, Bobby Sue attempted to open the book, but Sarah pulled it out of her reach.

  “Sarah, I just want to look at the book.”

  “Find your own damn book, this one is mine.”

  “Fine language for a five-year-old! Your mother would be shocked.”

  “Who do you think I learned it from?” Sarah stood rosy cheeks aflame as if daring Bobby Sue to touch the book again.

  Continuing to the history aisle, Bobby Sue saw her friend Jennifer sitting on the floor completely engrossed in a book. Her black hair fell forward, concealing her face entirely. How could Jennifer see to read it was beyond Bobby Sue as the aisle didn’t have enough lighting for one to read. The book in Jennifer’s hands had a black cover and no title.

  Bobby Sue cleared her throat, and waited for Jennifer to look up, but she didn’t even move. Feeling uneasy, Bobby Sue reached out her hand, but just before she touched Jennifer, the girl glanced up and gave her a black stare.

  “Jennifer, I have been looking for you. Have you been in the library all day?”

  Jennifer didn’t respond, just kept looking at her, blank and emotionless. Her eyes were barely recognizable in the dim light. An eerie glow shone from them, a trick of poor lighting Bobby Sue mused.

  She gave Jennifer a quick shake, “Jennifer, talk to me, please.”

  Jennifer stood, keeping the open book pressed to her breast. “Can’t you see I’m busy? Can’t you see I have nothing to say to you?”

  “What did I do? You can tell me that at least.”

  “I know there is a way to stop him from coming, and I need to find it. So leave me alone would you.” Jennifer said, dismissing her as she sat down again.

  She couldn’t be talking about Hell Crow. That is just an old story. Besides crows came to Hanover because it had the best crops around.

  Bobby Sue left the library, but as she did, she noticed everyone staring at her with the same blank stare. They all seemed to have strange old leather bound books in their hands, pulling them close as she passed, and it began to creep her out.

  Why is everyone excluding her?

  Walking outside, she noticed the sun shining, and it felt much warmer. The wind no longer blew, and an eerie stillness filled the air.

  She slipped her jacket from her shoulders. Descending the steps, she froze as a shadow of a symbol cast on the ground, from the clock above. The symbol, a triangle with three dots over it, meant it was three in the afternoon, and still, there wasn’t a scarecrow. If she had to make one and erect it herself, she would.

  Bobby Sue carried her beige backpack over one shoulder, and as she approached him sitting on a bench near the library, she couldn’t help but notice Jimmy Baxter’s taunt face.

  Jimmy sat, staring off into the distance. A gentle breeze started blowing, and his blond hair blew in the wind as he sat unmoving. One strap of his denim coveralls hung down, displaying his bare, suntanned skin and Bobby Sue resisted the urge to pull it up.

  She approached him, waiting for him to look up.

  “Jimmy, are you okay?”

  “Ya, why wouldn’t I be?” he said coolly, looking up at her.

  Shifting slightly, Bobby Sue began to feel uneasy. “Your face looks a little pale. Are you sick?”

  “I’m sick all right, sick of everyone asking me if I’m sick. Tired too, tired of people not minding their own damn business.”

  “I haven’t seen you all day. Where have you been?”

  Rising from the bench, he looked directly into her eyes. “You better watch out, Hell Crow is coming tonight.”

  Bobby Sue felt flustered. “Hell Crow? You don’t believe that old story do you?”

  “There will be a full moon tonight, the second one this month, it will coincide with the equinox.”

  “Equinox? Yes, but that only means the day and night will be of equal duration.”

  “This hasn’t happened since 1991, and it has the power to pull Hell Crow from the depths of Hell seeking his revenge.”

  “On whom?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.”

  Bobby Sue couldn’t listen to him any longer because Jimmy sounded like a deranged fool, like so many others in town had today.

  She knew the stories, but she knew there was something more, a missing piece to the puzzle. None of the stories ever told who Hell Crow was seeking revenge on or why.

  Making a scarecrow had been a tradition since her grandfather’s death, and she felt driven to make sure there was one this year too. She wanted to ask Jimmy to help her, but with the way he was acting, she doubted he’d be of much help.

  What had happened at the carnival last night? She wished she’d had gone, but the gypsy and the crow had really freaked her out. Why did the gypsy say she was cursed? It made no sense. She’d made a scarecrow before and could do so again, and she strutted toward home. She shuddered as the breeze rustled the corn stalks, moving them in unison as if speaking their own language.

  Once home, Bobby Sue entered the barn and searched for something to make the scarecrow with. In a back corner where she rarely went, she discovered an old trunk she had never seen before. She swept her hand across it. Dust flew into the air and she coughed. There was a heavy lock securing it, and picking up a crowbar from the workbench, she wrenched on the lock until it snapped, sending her sprawling onto the ground.

  Getting back up, she dusted herself off, removing the dirt and straw that poked her in places she’d rather not be poked. When she opened the trunk, the breeze blew through the barn, startling her. She reached inside and lifted a red plaid shirt with symbols written on it in what appeared to be orange fluorescent paint. Beneath that, she found a pair of denim pants and took those out too. Both items weren’t soiled or wrinkled in any way, as if someone had laundered, and pressed them before placing them inside.

  She worked quickly. Picking up nails from a wooden shelf, she grabbed a hammer. Unbuttoning the shirt, she hammered it to a long wooded stake, doing the same to the pants. She grabbed handfuls of the plentiful straw stacked in the barn and stuffed straw inside, both the shirt and pants. She fastened the clothing, lacing the shirt to the pants with twine.

  What to use for a head?

  Digging to the bottom of the trunk, she found what looked like a skull, but appeared to be made from some type of crystal. She removed it, placed a burlap sack around it and sewed it to the shirt. She nicked her finger in the process, leaving a bloodstain on the shirt. Sucking her finger, she decided her scarecrow didn’t look too bad, so she kept at it.

  Picking up the completed scarecrow wasn’t easy, she had to tip the wheelbarrow on its side and roll the scarecrow in. It was the only way she had any hope of moving it. She didn’t know how in the hell she’d ever erect the damn thing.

  Grabbing the wheelbarrow by the handles, she lifted it up and rolled it forward. She needed to steady the stake while holding the wheelbarrow’s handles. Bobby Sue made it only a few feet, dropping it when her hands began to hurt. Wiping the sweat from her hands on her pants. She continued a few more times, then dropped the wheelbarrow, falling to the ground, sobbing.

  She realized there was no way she could do this by herself. She continued to sob, then through her tears, she realized that a man was standing in front of her.

  “Who are you?” she asked.

  Leaning down, he grinned. His mouth full of rotting teeth and his breath smelled like decaying flesh. His weathered yellow skin displayed more wrinkles than Bobby Sue thought a person could acquire in one lifetime. His clothes were tattered and torn and hung off his emaciated body. The whites of his eyes were red as if he never slept, and his hair looked like straw, sticking out in different directions.

  He glanced down at Bobby Sue’s scarecrow. “Miss, what are you trying to do?”

  She gasped and scrambled to her feet. “I’m trying to haul this scarecrow down to corn field and put it up.”

  He surveyed her scarecrow. “He won’t stay up.”

  “Why not?” Bobby Sue asked, planting her hands on her hips, tapping her foot in irritation.

  “You have any barbed wire?”

  “No, of course not!”

  Rubbing his chin. “If you use barbwire to hold him up, it may work.”

  “Even if I had some, I can’t get it up there. Nobody will talk to me, and they certainly won’t help me.” Stopping she began to pant, struggling to catch her breath.

  “I bet they won’t, but one thing they don’t know is this scarecrow is special, and me being the type of fella that likes to help would be more than happy to assist you.” He rubbed his chin. “For a price.”

  Narrowing her eyes she asked, “What kind of price are you talking about?”

  “There’s a clock I’d like to have. I believe it’s on the library presently.”

  “But, I can’t give you that clock. That’s the reason this town’s crops flourish.”

  “It’s also the reason the crows return year after year, and this year a special crow is coming.”

  “Hell Crow.”

  “So you heard about ole Hell Crow? He’s the kind of crow that don’t go, not until he had his revenge.”

  “Why should I believe a damn word you say?”

  “I should know,” said the man bluntly. “ I’ve seen him before——many years ago.”

  Bobby Sue resisted the urge to roll her eyes. She knew she shouldn’t trust someone she just met, but if he could help, maybe there would be a chance for Hanover.

  What happened to change everyone so drastically within the span of days? If they were all so worried about the coming of the crows, then maybe she should be too.

 

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