The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight Read Online Free Page A

replied tensely.
    “But they were trying to get off their poles!” I cried. “We
saw
them!”
    Grandpa Kurt stared hard at Stanley.
    Stanley’s ears turned bright red. He lowered his eyes. “It was a breezy night,” he said. “They move in the wind.”
    “It’s going to be a sunny day,” Grandma Miriam said brightly from the sink.
    “But the scarecrows —” Mark insisted.
    “Yep. Looks like a real pretty day,” Grandpa Kurt mumbled, ignoring Mark.
    He doesn’t want to talk about the scarecrows, I realized.
    Is it because he doesn’t believe us?
    Grandpa Kurt turned to Stanley. “After you take the cows to pasture, maybe you and Jodie and Mark can do some fishing at the creek.”
    “Maybe,” Stanley replied, studying the cornflakes box. “Maybe we could just do that.”
    “Sounds like fun,” Mark said. Mark likes fishing. It’s one of his favorite sports because you don’t have to move too much.
    There’s a really pretty creek behind the cow pasture at the far end of Grandpa Kurt’s property. It’s very woodsy back there, and the narrow creektrickles softly beneath the old shade trees and is usually filled with fish.
    Finishing my cereal, I turned to Grandma Miriam at the sink. “And what are you doing today?” I asked her. “Maybe you and I could spend some time together and —”
    I stopped as she turned toward me and her hand came into view.
    “Ohhhh.” I let out a frightened moan when I saw her hand. It — it was made of
straw!

7
    “Jodie — what’s the matter?” Grandma Miriam asked.
    I started to point to her hand.
    Then it came into sharp focus, and I saw that her hand wasn’t straw — she was holding a broom.
    She had gripped it by the handle and was pulling lint off the ends of the straw.
    “Nothing’s wrong,” I told her, feeling like a total jerk. I rubbed my eyes. “I’ve got to take my allergy medicine,” I told her. “My eyes are so watery. I keep
seeing
things!”
    I was seeing scarecrows everywhere I looked!
    I scolded myself for acting so crazy.
    Stop thinking about scarecrows,
I told myself.
Stanley was right. The scarecrows had moved in the wind last night.
    It was just the wind.
    Stanley took us fishing later that morning. As we started off for the creek, he seemed in a really cheerful mood.
    He smiled as he swung the big picnic basket Grandma Miriam had packed for our lunch. “She put in all my favorites,” Stanley said happily.
    He patted the basket with childish satisfaction.
    He had three bamboo fishing poles tucked under his left arm. He carried the big straw basket in his right hand. He refused to let Mark and me carry anything.
    The warm air smelled sweet. The sun beamed down in a cloudless blue sky. Blades of recently cut grass stuck to my white sneakers as we headed across the backyard.
    The medicine had helped. My eyes were much better.
    Stanley turned just past the barn and began walking quickly along its back wall. His expression turned solemn. He appeared to be concentrating hard on something.
    “Hey — where are we going?” I called, hurrying to keep up with him.
    He didn’t seem to hear me. Taking long strides, swinging the straw picnic basket as he walked, he headed back in the direction we started from.
    “Hey — wait up!” Mark called breathlessly. My brother hates to hurry when he can take his time.
    “Stanley — wait!” I cried, tugging his shirt-sleeve. “We’re going around in circles!”
    He nodded, his expression serious under the black baseball cap. “We have to circle the barn three times,” he said in a low voice.
    “Huh? Why?” I demanded.
    We started our second turn around the barn.
    “It will bring us good luck with our fishing,” Stanley replied. Then he added, “It’s in the book. Everything is in the book.”
    I opened my mouth to tell him this was really silly. But I decided not to. He seemed so serious about that superstition book of his. I didn’t want to spoil it for him.
    Besides, Mark and I could