The Whispers of the Crows

by Kyle Alexander Romines

  “I don’t know her phone number.”

  “I’ll make some calls later. See if I can’t get ahold of our neighbors. It’d be good to find out the kind of people we’re living next to. If we hadn’t been so busy with all the work, I would’ve gotten to it before now. What’s Jezebel’s last name?”

  Connor thought for a moment. He couldn’t remember Jezebel ever sharing her last name before, and yet somehow it was there, on the edge of his tongue. “Woods, I think.”

  The weather had improved marginally by the time they turned onto the gravel road. As they approached the house, Connor noticed two of the horses grazing in the field.

  “What are they doing out?” Russ muttered.

  Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.” When the truck pulled into the driveway, he half-expected to see Bandit wagging his tail from the house, but the porch sat sadly empty.

  “Help me with these supplies, will you?” Russ reached for his crutch. Connor helped his father carry the new equipment to the nearest tool shed, where Buddy and Megan approached from the barn.

  “Good to see you made it back in one piece,” Buddy said as Russ tossed him the keys to his truck. “It looks like the horses got out of their pen while you were gone. Those in the barn are still in their stalls, but we’ll have to round up the rest.”

  “How did they get out?” Russ stared at Connor.

  “Don’t look at me,” Connor said. “I’ve been with you the whole time.”

  Clearly frustrated, Russ groaned. “Of all the times to be saddled with a bum leg. Well, we’d better get after it.”

  Without Bandit to help herd the animals, the task proved easier said than done. Megan was too small to help and mainly just stood next to Buddy. Russ’s impaired mobility made it difficult for him to do much, and despite his best efforts the horses continued to get past him. He grew angrier as time marched on, until eventually he lost his hold on his crutch and landed in the mud when a horse pulled away from him.

  “It looks like you could use some help there,” someone said from nearby. Connor glanced toward the sound of the voice and saw Liz Hayes walking down the trail in their direction. Her car sat in the driveway. She offered her hand to Russ, and he stared at it reluctantly before accepting her assistance. “I heard you were in an accident.” She handed him his crutch. “I wanted to come see how you were getting along.”

  “We’re doing fine,” Russ insisted. He wiped away the mud.

  She laughed. “I can see that. My offer stands, if you need someone else to help corral these horses.”

  Russ looked her over. She was dressed in a nice black top and a pair of faded blue jeans. Her long black hair was bound in a ponytail. “I wouldn’t want you to get your clothes dirty.”

  She waved away his concerns. “Please. I grew up on a farm. I don’t mind getting my hands dirty when the need arises.”

  Russ hesitated, then visibly conceded. “Well, since you’re here . . .”

  “My brother is trying to say that we would really appreciate the extra set of hands,” Buddy said.

  “Glad to be of service.” Liz winked at Russ, who returned the gesture with a smile.

  The work went much faster with Liz around and, in Connor’s opinion, was more enjoyable as well. Russ was far less irritated in Liz’s presence, which seemed to bring out a different side of his father. Connor was grateful to have his father’s attention diverted somewhere else for a while. They rounded up all the remaining horses and returned them to the pen in less than ten minutes.

  “Thanks for your help,” Russ said as Buddy shut the pen. “There’s still a lot we have to discuss about the farm. How about you stay for dinner?”

  “Since you asked so nicely,” she replied, and they all returned to the farmhouse.

  The charcoal grill’s smell soon wafted through the house. Russ flipped steaks outside while Buddy fixed homemade lemonade. Liz played checkers with Megan as Connor sat on the armchair by the window and watched the sunset. To his disappointment, once Liz showed up, Russ appeared to have forgotten his promise to invite Jezebel over.

  “How are you doing, Connor?” Liz looked over at him warmly.

  The question caught him off guard, and he returned his attention to her. “Fine, I guess.”

  “Are you sure? You keep looking out the window. Is something the matter?”

  Connor shook his head. There was nothing sinister that was visible outside the window, but he knew the scarecrow was there somewhere, watching.

  When dinner came, it was one of the tastier meals they’d enjoyed since setting foot on the farm. Regardless of where it came from, the sweet corn was delicious, and the steak was cooked medium rare, just the way Connor liked it.

  “The farm is in great shape.” Liz helped Megan cut her meat. “Has your injury given you much of a problem?”

  “No, ma’am,” Russ answered. “Not with Buddy here to pick up the slack.”

  She laughed. “You move around very well for someone in a cast.”

  “It’s not as bad as it looks.”

  “All the same, it’s nice to see everything running so smoothly around here for a change.”

  “We did have a loss the other day.” Buddy wiped his mouth with a napkin. “One of the horses ran off into the woods. Something must have got a hold of it before Connor found it. And the dog . . .” He trailed off, unable to finish.

  “Buddy’s taking the cattle to Pike County tomorrow for auction,” Russ said. “I’d go myself, if not for my leg.”

  “I’ll think I’ll manage. Besides, one of us has to stay here and look after the young ones.” Buddy aimed a grin at the kids and rolled his fourth ear of corn against the butter stick.

  When dinner was over, Russ pulled Connor aside before he could return to the parlor. “Why don’t you turn in early tonight? You’ve been having trouble sleeping, and it might help you feel better if you get a few extra hours of shut-eye.”

  Connor frowned. The last thing he wanted to do was fall asleep now, when he needed to keep an eye out for the scarecrow. “It’s still early, and I’m not even tired.”

  The others followed them into the parlor. “It’s not up for discussion,” Russ said.

  “Is everything all right?” Liz asked.

  Russ nodded. “Connor’s just going to get an early start on bedtime tonight. I’ll be back down in a minute. Buddy, would you mind putting Megan to bed?”

  “Of course.” Buddy swung a joyful Megan into the air. “Here we go, princess. Piggy-back time!”

  “I can go, if it’s getting that late.” Liz glanced at her watch and then out the window.

  “It’ll only be a—” Russ started, but Connor looked up and cut him off.

  “Just be careful. Promise me,” he begged Liz.

  “What?” She was obviously taken aback.

  “All right, that’s enough for one night.” Russ wore a forced smile. “Let’s go.”

  Connor grudgingly trudged up the stairs and changed into his pajamas while Russ filled a glass of water for him to wash his medication down. “Remember, you’re to take one of these every morning when you wake up and each night before you go to bed.” He handed Connor the glass.

  “I’m not making it up,” Connor repeated. “I’m not.”

  Russ folded his arms across his chest. “This is for the best, son. You’re going to have to trust me.” He opened the bottle, removed a sizable white pill, and set the bottle on the nightstand.

  Connor reluctantly accepted the pill. With a sigh, he dropped the pill inside his mouth, took a drink of water, and swallowed.

  It didn’t take long before his eyelids began to grow heavy. “Liz,” he said, trying desperately to keep from falling asleep. “You have to warn her.” He clutched at his father’s shirt, but Russ gently lowered him to the
bed. “You have to tell her about the . . .” His eyes shut, and for an instant he saw the cornfield. When they fluttered open again, the light was off, and Russ stood by the door.

  “Goodnight, son.” Then he shut the door, and Connor closed his eyes and felt the cornfield swallow him whole.

  * * *

  “What was that about?” Liz asked when Russ returned downstairs.

  He sighed. “Connor’s been having some trouble adjusting to life on the farm. I think finding Jasper Blackwell like he did really stirred up his anxieties. He’s worried the scarecrow in our field is alive.”

  “That’s horrible.”

  Russ gestured for her to take a seat on the sofa before joining her. “His psychiatrist just started him on something for his anxiety, but I just don’t know if I’m doing the right thing.”

  Liz touched his arm. “You’re doing the best you can. Being a parent isn’t easy.”

  “Do you have any kids?”

  “I’m not that lucky. I was always more focused on my career. I have to admit, when I look at what you’ve got here, I’m a little envious.”

  “There’s always room around here for another farmhand,” Russ said. Liz punched his arm playfully, and they both laughed. “I mean it. You were a big help today. If you weren’t my boss, I’d hire you.”

  She smiled. “I like it out here. This place reminds me of where I grew up.”

  “What? You didn’t want to be a farmer?”

  Liz shook her head wistfully. “My dad was a farmer most of his life. He told me there wasn’t any money in it. He said I should do something with more financial security—no offense.”

  “None taken. This can be a hard life sometimes. It’s not the same as it was when I was young. Still, there’s nothing I’d rather be doing than working the earth with my hands.”

  The cold night air seeped inside the house, and Liz shivered. “Is it always this chilly in here?”

  “The weather’s been unpredictable lately. Let me see if I can get a fire going.”

  A few minutes later, the fireplace crackled with life. They sat on the sofa, talking at length, until at last the hour was late and the moon peeked through the blinds.

  “Look at the time. I really should be going.” Liz started toward the door.

  “Wait,” Russ said, and she turned around. “I was wondering . . . would you like to get dinner sometime? Somewhere other than here, I mean.”

  A smile spread across her face. “I thought you’d never ask.” Liz kissed him on the cheek. Russ opened the door for her and watched her walk to her car. When she was gone, he shut the door and touched his cheek.

  “How long have you been standing there?” Russ turned to face Buddy, who was standing there with a grin.

  “Not long,” Buddy answered, “but long enough.”

  “I’ll try not to screw it up this time.”

  Buddy put his hand on his shoulder. “You deserve to be happy, brother—even if you don’t think so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m heading to bed. Night.”

  “Night,” Russ replied, staring outside the screen door.

  * * *

  The darkness seemed to go on forever. Liz turned on her high beams. Its lights no longer visible behind her, the farmhouse disappeared in her rearview mirror, consumed by night.

  A deafening blast of static filled the car when she switched on the radio. Liz tuned to the next station, and the next. Unable to get a good signal, she turned off the dial and focused on the path ahead. Fog rolled in from the fields on either side of the car and covered the gravel road. The path forward stretched on with no end in sight. Liz squinted in the gathering fog. The mist seemed to come from nowhere, straight out of the darkness itself. Crows shrieked somewhere in the forest beyond.

  Her car’s headlights glimmered off the main road ahead. Without warning, a figure barely visible in the fog appeared on the road in front of the car. Liz hit the brakes with a scream and felt a collision as the car screeched to a stop. The seatbelt held her in place, but she hit her head hard on the steering wheel. The car remained there for several minutes, unmoving, perpendicular to the gravel road.

  Liz stumbled out of the vehicle, leaving the keys in the ignition. The car alarm sounded, and she’d left the front door open, but Liz was hardly paying attention. “Hello?” She looked for a sign of the man who had been standing in the road, waded through the fog, and knelt in front of her car. “Are you OK?”

  No response came. Nor was there any sign of whoever had been hit by the car. Liz felt movement behind her through the mist and turned around, peering into the dense fog. “Hello?”

  Liz took a few steps forward. Suddenly, her headlights shut off. She started to return to her car when she spotted a figure standing in the road ahead, obscured by the fog and darkness. “Is someone there?” She fished out her phone, turned on the flashlight, and shined it into the mist.

  The weak light revealed the face of something monstrous. The scarecrow stood inches away. Liz screamed in terror and dropped the phone. The scarecrow raised a scythe, and blood splattered across the car.

  * * *

  The fog spread from the cornfield, poured across the farm, and devoured everything it touched. Sometime after everyone was asleep, the jack-o’-lantern roared to life, and red flame wreathed its terrible countenance. In the morning, it, too, was gone, as if it had never been there at all.

  Chapter EIGHTEEN

  Connor no longer knew where the dreams ended and the nightmares began.

  He saw them in his sleep: Jasper Blackwell, Keith and Tommy Evers, Liz Hayes, and lastly, his mother. Shadows of their former selves, they moved about the other place like phantoms trapped between one world and the next. I have to wake up, he told himself, but he, too, was unable to leave of his own volition. My family needs me.

  “Soon,” his mother, nearly enveloped by crows, promised. She reached for him with a long, withered hand that reminded him of the scarecrow, and Connor found himself again in the waking world.

  He was standing inside the cornfield. It was early. The morning sun revealed itself slowly, like a shy child peeking out from behind two hands. Whatever his visions portended, it was becoming clear that unless someone acted soon, something horrible was going to happen. Since his father refused to believe him, the task fell to Connor. I have to destroy it. It’s the only way. Connor advanced through the cornfield, set on reaching its center. He was still afraid, even in the daylight, but he knew the thing wouldn’t come after him while the sun was still out.

  A set of keys glimmered on the ground just outside the cornfield’s heart. Connor stopped and inspected the unfamiliar keychain, unsure where it came from. The keys didn’t look like they belonged to Russ or Buddy. It was up to something last night, he thought, before tucking away the keys and reaching for the knife in his back pocket. Determined to take the scarecrow apart piece by piece if that was what was necessary, he opened the blade. Maybe he would drag it back to the barn and burn it until there was nothing left but ash.

  Connor took a deep breath to steady himself and pushed through the cornstalks. When he saw what waited for him on the other side, his body went stiff as a board. Connor looked up at the cross, but the scarecrow was gone, as if it had known he would come for it. The scarecrow had left its post sometime during the night, and now it could be hiding anywhere, waiting for sunset.

  Connor knew he couldn’t do it alone. There was too much land to cover. He needed help, and he had just the person in mind. He found his way out of the cornfield with relative ease, though he knew when the time came, the rows would give him up far less easily. The farmhouse sat quietly in the still morning. Connor tiptoed inside and prayed his father or uncle didn’t hear him enter the house while he climbed up the stairs. He couldn’t very well explain why he’d been out on the farm so early, or where the u
nfamiliar keys came from.

  Footsteps sounded below, and Connor’s heart raced. I must have woken one of them. He threw himself into bed and quickly pulled the covers over his head. A few minutes later, the door opened, and he heard Russ’s voice from the doorway.

  “Son? Are you awake? I thought I heard someone up and moving through the house.”

  Connor felt his father come and sit beside him on the bed. His heartbeat raced under the sheets. If Russ pulled down the blankets, he would know something was going on. Hoping to prevent such an occurrence, Connor poked his head out from underneath the covers, forced a yawn, and pretended to be waking up.

  “Dad? Is that you?”

  “Good morning. I’m sorry about last night.” Russ’s gaze wandered to the pill bottle on the nightstand. “I hope you’re feeling better today. You didn’t have more dreams last night, did you?”

  “No,” Connor lied. He wondered how Russ would react if he really told him about the contents of his visions.

  “Good.” Russ ruffled his hair. “Lord those curls are getting long. About time for a haircut, wouldn’t you say? Anyway,” he continued when Connor didn’t answer, “we should probably get an early start today. Buddy’s got a big drive ahead of him to haul the cattle for auction and whatnot. We want to have all the cattle loaded into the trailer before lunch, but first we’re going to town to pick up a replacement truck for me. Maybe we’ll even sit down for a hot breakfast at the café while we’re out. How does that sound?”

  Connor’s mind raced furiously. If the others were away, it would be the perfect opportunity to find Jezebel. “I feel a little groggy from the pill.” He made a show of rubbing sleep from his eyes. “Is it OK if I stay home until you get back?”

  “Of course, kiddo.” Russ patted the side of the bed. “Get some more sleep. We’ll be back before you know it.” He stood. “And don’t forget to take your medicine this morning, all right?”

  “OK.” Connor waited for the door to click shut before he threw the covers off and sat up in bed. He heard Russ waking Megan in the next room, and from the sound of things, Buddy was already moving around downstairs. That was a close one. If he’d come back inside a few minutes later, the conversation with his father might have gone very differently.