Valley of the Scarecrow by Gord Rollo Page B

so I figured I’d try there first. Seemed like as likely a place to start as any, but I never made it there. I came out of the path in the forest and as soon as I saw the cornfields I knew I couldn’t go any further.”
    “Why? What about them?”
    “They hadn’t been tended in nearly forty years at the time and they were as lush and bountiful as the day we’d left them. The corn was growing even better without us, the stalks huge and thick, nine or ten feet off the ground for as far as the eye could see. There must have been a dozen cobs on each stalk, or more, and they were bloody enormous. Totally impossible, but I saw it with my own eyes. And then I looked past the corn and saw the old church in the middle of the field, still boarded up and untouched since the night my father and the elders had nailed it shut. The roof was covered in hundreds of crows, none of them flying or making any noise at all. They just sat there, all of them looking at me. I know how crazy that sounds, but it’s the truth. Just the thought of Joshua Miller’s corpse still locked inside there scared the hell out of me and I turned around right then and there and went straight home. Thought about going back lots of times, but I never did.”
    “Well, I’m not scared of an old church or a few silly crows.”
    “It’s not the church you need to worry about. It’s the whole place. Miller’s Grove is an evil place, angel. A dead place tainted by blood and sin. As close to hell on earth as you’re ever likely to find. Joshua might be dead and gone, but the Man in Black is still there. I know he is.”
    “Oh come on, Gramps. You’re smarter than that. Thedevil doesn’t watch over cornfields. It’s just superstition, big guy. You’re still scared of what happened to your family as a boy and I completely understand that, but you’ve got to know what you’re saying is nonsense.”
    “Someone’s tending those crops,” Malcolm said, staring off into space again. “Or maybe I should say some thing… ”

Chapter Nine
    Her dashboard clock read 7:19 when Kelly pulled up to the curb at Rich and Lizzy’s place on Stadler Avenue. She’d spent the entire afternoon with her grandfather, talking to him about his memories of Miller’s Grove, his father, the Man in Black, and many other things, but basically spending the last several hours repeatedly assuring him she wasn’t going to go traipsing out into the woods trying to find Joshua’s buried treasure anytime soon. He was skeptical, but over supper she’d finally convinced him she couldn’t do it regardless if she wanted to, seeing as she had no idea where Miller’s Grove was located. It certainly wasn’t on any of the Iowa maps she’d seen over the years, and if she didn’t know which direction to even start driving in, it was unlikely she’d be getting herself in trouble with the Man in Black anytime soon.
    Back in Cedar Rapids, she had more urgent matters to worry about anyway. She was nervous as hell about having to face Dan tonight but Rich was probably right, they had to face each other again sometime, might as well get it over with. Kelly shut off the car, pocketed the keys, and stepped out onto the street.
    Rich rented the bottom floor of a beat-up saltbox-style house and the owner, a man named Jack Travis, lived upstairs. Jack was never around, which on the one hand was a great thing since it basically gave Rich andLizzy the run of the place, but it also sucked because he was never there to fix anything so the house was crumbling to the ground around them. It needed all new windows, the roof leaked, and it was badly in need of a new coat of paint. The once olive green paint was practically worn down to bare wood, the last patches of color hanging in ugly peeling strips. About the best thing that could be said about the old house was that it had a huge fenced backyard and at the very back Rich had built a circular stone fire pit way back from the noise of the street.