Inktober 2024 - 25 - Scarecrow

Two men in overalls are sitting on a wooden bench, on the side of a dirt path running along a cornfield. One of them is leaning back, both arms outstretched onto the back of their seat, staring into the sea of cereals in front of them, gently swaying in the midnight breeze.

"There's one thing I don't get about scarecrows, dude," he says after a while.

"Which is?"

His friend is hunched forward, eyes closed, massaging his stiff neck.

"What are they so darn creepy for?"

The other man stops rubbing his fingers on the back of his head and opens his eyes:

"Well… It's in their name, isn't it? They're meant to be scary."

"Sure, they're meant to be scary. But to crows, though. Why are they always made to look scary to people as well?"

"I guess there isn't any reason to think crows aren't scared of the same things humans are scared of."

"They're evidently not! They're scared of things like bright lights, loud noises, and sudden movement."

"All of which could easily be scary to a person," reasons the calmer man.

The more agitated one clicks his tongue and purses his lips, clearly unsatisfied.

"All right. Then why also go for things that crows aren't even guaranteed to be scared of? Like grimacing faces and raggedy clothing?"

"To be fair, I'm pretty sure the very first scarecrows were just vaguely human-shaped packs of hay, wrapped in loose clothes left flapping in the wind, to create the illusion of someone standing in the field, thus dissuading crows to come and eat the crop."

"That seems reasonable. That's not creepy. That's no jack-o'-lantern face with flaming eyes and a hellish rictus. And what's with those wide-brimmed hats, too?"

He gestures to the scarecrow glaring back at them from across the road, standing tall over its domain. It is a fine specimen, that much is true. There's no fire inside the pumpkin that was used for its head, but it's still a pretty daunting sight.

"Sometimes I wish you were on drugs, Bart," answers the quieter man anyway.

"I'm not on drugs!" protests Bartholomew.

"I know. Which is odd, because that would explain so much of what goes through your head."

"You just lack imagination…"

A bit insulted, Bart straightens up and crosses his arms. His companion sighs.

"Obviously, the object has evolved over time, aesthetic features being added to the purely practical ones. Many people enjoy being scared, these days: Halloween is a popular celebration, haunted houses are popular attractions, and horror movies a popular genre."

"But if people did enjoy being scared so much, Tib, don't you think our job would be getting easier?"

Annoyed, Tiberius grunts, grabs his machete and hockey mask at his feet, and gets up from the bench. Technically, if people enjoyed being scared, their job as bogeymen would actually become harder, wouldn't it?

"I can't believe you think glorified coat hangers could ever be a threat to us."