Today on Project Gutenberg: "The Dangerous Scarecrow"

Today on Project Gutenberg, we have...

"The Dangerous Scarecrow" by Carl Jacobi

Scarecrows are, for the most part, creepy little weirdos. The word "scare" is in their name, after all. Our latest Project Gutenberg find is another wonderful example of scarecrows being their creepy selves. It comes to us all the way from 1954, from the pages of Imagination Stories of Science and Fantasy and the mind of prolific American pulp writer Carl Jacobi.

Jimmy and his sister Stella are perfectly normal young children. Growing up on an isolated farm without peers their own age for company, they both have active imaginations and pass the time with fanciful daydreams. For some reason, they take a particular interest in the two scarecrows that stand on opposite sides of the road, one guarding their family's farm and the other one guarding the neighbor's farm. The kids have even given these scarecrows the whimsical and oddly specific names of Mr. Trask and Mr. Maudsley. That's not weird, right? Well, those just so happen to be the names of the farms' former owners from decades past, who carried on a bitter feud involving sabotage, attempted murder, sudden disappearances and rumors of voodoo practice. And when the children decide to give one of the scarecrows a mysterious knife that they find in their barn, the feud is reignited in dramatic fashion—and someone just might lose their head.

Coming in at just under 2700 words, this tale embodies the ethos of "short and sweet" (or is it "short and spooky" in this case?). The narrative moves at a brisk pace, with a clearly defined beginning, middle and end: kids meet scarecrows, kids give weapon to scarecrow, kids witness voodoo-assisted scarecrow murder. Overall, it has about as much plot as an installment of Scary Stories to Tell in the Dark and slightly less than your average Goosebumps book. The characterization is similarly pretty shallow; Jimmy and Stella are both the "innocent-with-just-a-touch-of-creepy" kind of kids, saying little more than "golly gee whillikers" when confronted with the knowledge that scarecrows can apparently come to life and commit murder by proxy.

And yet, despite—or perhaps because of—the story's simplicity, I found myself enjoying "The Dangerous Scarecrow" quite a bit. Rather than being a horror story that simply revolves around a child, Jacobi makes it a horror story told through the eyes of a child. The reader sees the setting and events of the story from Jimmy's POV, and his imagination invents spookiness all around him—not because he's afraid of the world, but because he finds wonder in it.

Presently Jimmy got out of bed, crossed to the window and stood looking out into the moonlight. Below him he could see his ball bat leaning against a tree, looking strangely white against the shadows. Beyond was the outline of a mounted horseman, the pump, and beyond that the grey circular walls of the silo pointed upward like a castle tower. Something caught Jimmy's eye, made him look to the east...In the bright moonlight he could see Mr. Maudsley clearly. And a little farther on he could see Mr. Trask. Two silent figures alone in the cornfields...Save for the flapping of his trousers in the wind, Mr. Maudsley stood motionless, as of course he should. But Mr. Trask.... A passing cloud slid over the moon, darkening the landscape. In the few seconds before it brought complete blackness Jimmy thought he saw Mr. Trask kick up his heels, leap high in the air and begin to dance a rigadoon over the shocked corn.

I would consider this to be child-appropriate horror. The only explicit violence is performed with scarecrows, it's not overtly graphic or shocking, and the young protagonists are never in any real danger. But you shouldn't take that to mean the story is not scary. Sure, it isn't much for a hardened horror fan like myself, but Jacobi's descriptions give the narrative an air of eeriness with a distinct sinister edge, especially in the climactic scarecrow brawl.

But as Jimmy came out on the road again, he looked across at Mr. Maudsley. In full view in the sunlight, it wasn't a cardboard face now; it was a round full face, with great folds of fat, and it was twisted in an expression of stark fear.

Stella came running to where Jimmy stood. Together they saw two shadows locked in an incredible embrace. Like a scythe raised aloft, Mr. Trask's knife swept downward in a wide arc and with a quick stroke cut off Mr. Maudsley's head. Mr. Maudsley's hat flew up, Mr. Maudsley's head rolled off, and a thin cry of triumph welled up and faded.

And then there was nothing, except that Mr. Trask was back on one side of the fence, and Mr. Maudsley was on the other, minus his head, of course.

Due to its short length, "The Dangerous Scarecrow" is a story you could finish in only a few minutes; this makes it ideal for those times when you're looking for something quick to read. I would recommend checking it out if you're looking for some bite-sized scares, or if you have children who are starting to become interested in the horror genre. I can't guarantee it won't scare them, but I have read stories written by children that were much darker and more graphic than this. The kids who read this will probably be fine. Just remind them not to play with weird old knives they find in hay bales—they might become an accessory to scarecrow-on-scarecrow violence, and nobody wants that.

And that's what we found today on Project Gutenberg! See you next time!

—Dana