The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight Read Online Free

to bed. The bedroom door was closed. It was silent on the other side.
    “Maybe we’d better wait till tomorrow morning,” I whispered as Mark and I tiptoed back upstairs to our rooms. “I think we’ll be safe till then.”
    We crept back to our rooms. I pushed the window shut and locked it. Out in the fields, the scarecrows were still twitching, still pulling at their stakes.
    With a shudder, I turned away from the window and plunged into the bed, pulling the old quilt up over my head.
    I slept restlessly, tossing under the heavy quilt. In the morning, I jumped eagerly from bed. I ran a brush through my hair and hurried down to breakfast.
    Mark was right behind me on the stairs. He was wearing the same jeans as yesterday and a red-and-black T-shirt. He hadn’t bothered to brush his hair. It stood straight up in back.
    “Pancakes!” he managed to choke out. Mark is only good for one word at a time this early in the morning.
    But the word instantly cheered me up and made me forget for a moment about the creepy scarecrows.
    How could I have forgotten about Grandma Miriam’s amazing chocolate chip pancakes?
    They are so soft, they really do melt in your mouth. And the warm chocolate mixed with the sweet maple syrup makes the most delicious breakfast I’ve ever eaten.
    As we hurried across the living room toward the kitchen, I sniffed the air, hoping to smell that wonderful aroma of pancake batter on the stove.
    But my nose was too stuffed up to smell anything.
    Mark and I burst into the kitchen at the sametime. Grandpa Kurt and Stanley were already at the table. A big blue pot of coffee stood steaming in front of them.
    Stanley sipped his coffee. Grandpa Kurt had his face buried behind the morning newspaper. He glanced up and smiled as Mark and I entered.
    Everyone said good morning to everyone.
    Mark and I took our places at the table. We were so eager for the famous pancakes, we were practically rubbing our hands together the way cartoon characters do.
    Imagine our shock when Grandma Miriam set down big bowls of cornflakes in front of us.
    I practically burst into tears.
    I glanced across the table at Mark. He was staring back at me, his face revealing his surprise — and disappointment. “Cornflakes?” he asked in a high-pitched voice.
    Grandma Miriam had gone back to the sink. I turned to her. “Grandma Miriam — no pancakes?” I asked meekly.
    I saw her glance at Stanley. “I’ve stopped making them, Jodie,” she replied, her eyes still on Stanley. “Pancakes are too fattening.”
    “Nothing like a good bowl of cornflakes in the morning,” Stanley said with a big smile. He reached for the cornflakes box in the center of the table and filled his bowl up with a second helping.
    Grandpa Kurt grunted behind his newspaper.
    “Go ahead — eat them before they get soggy,” Grandma Miriam urged from the sink.
    Mark and I just stared at each other. Last summer, Grandma Miriam had made us a big stack of chocolate chip pancakes almost every morning!
    What is going on here?
I wondered once again.
    I suddenly remembered Sticks out in the cornfields the day before, whispering to me, “Things are different here.”
    They sure were different. And not for the better, I decided.
    My stomach grumbled. I picked up the spoon and started to eat my cornflakes. I saw Mark glumly spooning his. And then I suddenly remembered the twitching scarecrows.
    “Grandpa Kurt —” I started. “Last night, Mark and I — we were looking out at the cornfields and we saw the scarecrows. They were moving. We —”
    I heard Grandma Miriam utter a low gasp from behind me.
    Grandpa Kurt lowered his newspaper. He narrowed his eyes at me but didn’t say a word.
    “The scarecrows were moving!” Mark chimed in.
    Stanley chuckled. “It was the wind,” he said, his eyes on Grandpa Kurt. “It had to be the wind blowing them around.”
    Grandpa Kurt glared at Stanley. “You sure?” he demanded.
    “Yeah. It was the wind,” Stanley