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Rated: 18+ · Short Story · Detective · #2259428
Jack and Sarah take a walk to her special place on the hill by the Scarecrow.
Scarecrow with crows

Jack's hand was warm in Sarah's palm as they walked the forest path. She loved the forest greens and yellows at this time of year and she was looking forward to sharing her special place with him.

         "The Scarecrow is just past the pond, over there," she said.

         "So is it a scary Scarecrow?" asked Jack.

         "No, it is all too popular with the birds. In fact, I have often wondered why the farmer sticks with it. The view from the hill there is fab. After Jim died I always used to..." Sarah felt her eyes fill up as the sob came from deep inside her emerging from her mouth as a barely discernible sound against the background of the wind.

         But she loved that Jack heard it and moved closer to embrace her and she buried herself in his manly chest and arms.

         "I am so glad you are here with me. I am sorry, it has been a year, I do not know why I still cry about this," said Sarah.

         Jack did not reply. He just held her and she rejoiced at the strength she felt in him right now when she was so broken and vulnerable.

         They walked on in silence kicking through broken twigs and leaves. Brown crumpled leaves blown dry by the wind lay underneath the new yellows and occasional greens. They passed an old lady with her dog. Her grey eyes masked her stories like the grey skies hid the sunshine. There was a hint of raindrops from above that never quite managed to break free.
The sound of the warm wind blowing through the trees rising and falling like a song without words.

They came to the muddy waters of the pond still swollen by yesterday's rain. A single stork standing on a log in the middle of the leaf speckled surface stared at them. Was he watching over the females in the waters or just lording it over them from his place of dominance? The trees and high weeds hid the view of the waters as they passed. As they walked they realized that they were overdressed shedding their jackets. Crows signaled to each other as they approached the Scarecrow but did not move from their perch. They looked down watchful of the two visitors but clearly unthreatened by them.

         "I see what you mean," said Jack. They had now reached the Scarecrow crowded with the crows calling to each other.

         Sarah laughed at the sight and her laughter felt to her like a reminder of Summer in a landscape on the brink of Winter. Jack smiled in response and drew her close kissing her on the cheek. The trees were behind them now and the fields spread out before them like a green carpet owned by the crows as the Scarecrow watched.

         "Thanks for bringing me here, it is quite a view. Strange place for the farmer to put a Scarecrow at the top of a field rather than its middle, but I am sure he had his reasons. I wonder why the Scarecrow is so popular with the birds," said Jack.

         But Sarah was not listening. She could still feel the warmth of his lips on her cheek and it released a surge of feeling inside of her. She turned to face Jack and reached for his lips. He did not need to be asked twice and met hers with equal passion. They lay down on the ground discreetly hidden in the long grass beneath the Scarecrow. Sarah was underneath Jack and loving his weight between her legs, the heat of passion growing as they fumbled with their clothes.

         A gust of wind hit the Scarecrow above them. Sarah saw something fall from the Scarecrow above.

         What the... Sarah felt the impact on Jack's head in his kiss. He broke the kiss and she saw him grab a dirty white object from his right side where it had fallen. Sarah was still hungry with passion but he drew off her now quickly, his own passion quickly receding, the fallen item in his hand. She looked again and saw the bone or rather bones he was holding. She recognized them as bones of a man's leg beneath the knee complete with a foot attached.

         Sarah screamed, reaching for Jack from the ground. However, Jack had already stood up his eyes on the Scarecrow. It was dressed in an oversized old brown sack that covered all of it. He seized the sack in his fist and ripped it off and then stepped back two steps in horror at what he saw. Sarah joined him on her feet to share the view gripping him tightly. There was the skeleton of a man nailed to the beam, lacking only the leg which the wind had just now shaken loose.

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