The Scarecrow Walks at Midnight by R. L. Stine Read Free Book Online

sharp, frightening growl.
    The straw hands reached down for me.
    Grandpa Kurt’s face was the same. The face I had always known. Except that his eyes were so cold, so cold and dead.
    The straw hands brushed over my face as I climbed to my feet. I took a step back, raising my hands like a shield.
    “Grandpa — what’s wrong? What’s happening?” I whispered.
    My temples were pounding. My entire body shook.
    His cold eyes narrowed in fury as he reached for me again.
    “Noooo!” I let out a long wail of terror. Then I turned and stumbled to the door.
    His feet scraped over the bare floor as helurched toward me. Glancing down, I saw the straw poking out from the cuffs of his pants.
    His feet — they were straw, too.
    “Grandpa Kurt! Grandpa Kurt! What is
happening?’
Was that really my voice, so shrill and frightened?
    He swung an arm. The straw scratched my back as it swept over me.
    I grabbed for the doorknob. Twisted it. Pulled open the door.
    And cried out again as I collided with Grandma Miriam.
    “Oh, help! Please help! Grandma Miriam — he’s
chasing
me!” I cried.
    Her expression didn’t change. She stared back at me.
    In the dim light of the hallway, her face came into focus.
    And I saw that her glasses were
painted
on.
    And her eyes. And mouth. And big round nose.
    Her entire face was painted on.
    “You’re not real!” I cried.
    And then darkness swept over me as Grandpa Kurt’s straw hands wrapped around my face.

15
    I woke up coughing and choking.
    Surrounded by darkness. Heavy darkness.
    It took me a few seconds to realize that I’d been sleeping with the pillow over my face.
    Tossing it to the foot of the bed, I pulled myself up, breathing hard. My face was hot. My nightshirt stuck wetly to my back.
    I glanced at the window, suddenly afraid that I’d see a dark figure climbing in.
    The curtains fluttered gently. The early morning sky was still gray. I heard the shrill cry of a rooster.
    A dream. It had all been a frightening nightmare.
    Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, I lowered my feet to the floor.
    I stared at the gray morning light through the window.
Just a dream,
I assured myself.
Calm down, Jodie. It was just a dream.
    I could hear someone moving around downstairs. Staggering over to the dresser, I pulled out some fresh clothes — a pair of faded denim cutoffs, a sleeveless blue T-shirt.
    My eyes were watery. Everything was a blur. My allergies were really bad this morning.
    Rubbing my eyes, I made my way to the window and peered out. A red ball of a sun was just peeking over the broad apple tree. A heavy morning dew made the grass of the backyard sparkle like emeralds.
    The sea of cornstalks rose darkly behind the grass. The scarecrows stood stiffly over them, arms outstretched as if welcoming the morning.
    The rooster crowed again.
    What a stupid nightmare,
I thought. I shook myself as if trying to shake it from my memory. Then I ran a brush through my hair and hurried down to breakfast.
    Mark was just entering the kitchen as I came in. We found Grandma Miriam by herself at the table. A mug of tea steamed in front of her as she gazed out the window at the morning sunlight.
    She turned and smiled at us as we entered. “Good morning. Sleep well?”
    I was tempted to tell her about my scary nightmare. But instead I asked, “Where’s Grandpa Kurt?” I stared at his empty chair. The newspaper lay unopened on the table.
    “They all went off early,” Grandma Miriam replied.
    She stood up, walked to the cabinets, and brought a big box of cornflakes to the table. She motioned for us to take our places. “Pretty day,” she said cheerfully.
    “No pancakes?” Mark blurted out.
    Grandma Miriam stopped halfway across the room. “I’ve completely forgotten how to make them,” she said without turning around.
    She set two bowls down and made her way to the refrigerator to get the milk. “You kids want orange juice this morning? It’s fresh squeezed.”
    Grandma Miriam