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Old Man Cummins was the meanest man in all of Allen County. Everyone knew that when you drove past his farm, you just kept right on going. And if you had had the misfortune of a car breakdown in front of his property, God help you, because he’d be out there in two ticks with his shotgun and enough curses to make Jesus blush. Even the sheriff avoided Cummins’ farm as much as possible.
One night, I went out drinking with my best friend Abel. Abel insisted on driving us home, though he was in no condition to do so, and sure enough, he ran his truck off the road into Old Man Cummins’ cornfield. We got out of there as fast as we could before Old Man Cummins could show up and shoot us–and we were certain he would have done it.
The next morning, I had to drive past Cummins’ farm to make a delivery, and I saw the long line of crushed cornstalks that marked where Abel’s truck had plowed through the field. When I drove past Old Man Cummins’ house, I swear I felt his eyes on me, though I didn’t see him anywhere around.
After work, I texted Abel, then started watching cat videos while waiting for him to reply. I heard a knock on my door and answered it. When I opened the door, I froze. Old Man Cummins was standing there. Then the last thing I remember was his scowling face.
When I awoke, I was back in Old Man Cummins’ field, not too far from the crushed cornstalks. Old Man Cummins was standing in front of me. He looked me up and down, and then said the only words I’ve ever heard him speak.
“This is what you get for killing my corn, boy. Get used to it.”
And he walked away.
Then I realized that I felt different. These weren’t my clothes. They felt loose and ill-fitting. I couldn’t feel my limbs, and then I realized that I hadn’t breathed since I’d awoken. I moved my eyes over as far as I could, and saw that where my hands should have been, the ends of straw poked out of a flannel sleeve. I tried to scream, but I no longer had a mouth. I looked around wildly. Then I saw it, about 50 yards away.
Another scarecrow.
One night, I went out drinking with my best friend Abel. Abel insisted on driving us home, though he was in no condition to do so, and sure enough, he ran his truck off the road into Old Man Cummins’ cornfield. We got out of there as fast as we could before Old Man Cummins could show up and shoot us–and we were certain he would have done it.
The next morning, I had to drive past Cummins’ farm to make a delivery, and I saw the long line of crushed cornstalks that marked where Abel’s truck had plowed through the field. When I drove past Old Man Cummins’ house, I swear I felt his eyes on me, though I didn’t see him anywhere around.
After work, I texted Abel, then started watching cat videos while waiting for him to reply. I heard a knock on my door and answered it. When I opened the door, I froze. Old Man Cummins was standing there. Then the last thing I remember was his scowling face.
When I awoke, I was back in Old Man Cummins’ field, not too far from the crushed cornstalks. Old Man Cummins was standing in front of me. He looked me up and down, and then said the only words I’ve ever heard him speak.
“This is what you get for killing my corn, boy. Get used to it.”
And he walked away.
Then I realized that I felt different. These weren’t my clothes. They felt loose and ill-fitting. I couldn’t feel my limbs, and then I realized that I hadn’t breathed since I’d awoken. I moved my eyes over as far as I could, and saw that where my hands should have been, the ends of straw poked out of a flannel sleeve. I tried to scream, but I no longer had a mouth. I looked around wildly. Then I saw it, about 50 yards away.
Another scarecrow.
Here's a seasonally appropriate spooky story for you. Happy Halloween!
This is one of my entries into the Flash Fiction Challenge, Day 5 at The Spare Room Project. Click the first link to see the writing prompts, more stories, and even contribute a story yourself!
This is one of my entries into the Flash Fiction Challenge, Day 5 at The Spare Room Project. Click the first link to see the writing prompts, more stories, and even contribute a story yourself!
© 2015 - 2024 CelidahD
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