Funhouse (11 page)

“
No, I suppose I didn’t.” Randy said as his anger faded. “I just… I don’t think we should be going over there that’s all.”

“
Don’t worry. The old man isn’t so bad when you get to know him.”

“
I don’t want to get to know him, I want to go home.”

“
If this heat holds up, we should be good to go tomorrow.”

“
I hope so. The longer we stay here; I worry that we’ll never get to leave.”

“
Don’t worry, as long as we stay calm and stick to the plan, everything will be fine.”

“
I just can’t shake this feeling that’s all, that something bad is going to happen to us.”

“
This is a messed up situation, that’s for sure, but we need to stick together. Just trust me.”

Randy nodded, and looked over Dwayne’s shoulder at the ocean of scarecrows. There was no sign of the old man, but Randy supposed he could be anywhere, hiding in plain sight amongst his creations.

“I’m just stressed. That’s all.” Randy said with a sigh.

“
We both are.” Dwayne agreed. “Just let me worry about getting us out of this mess. After all, I got us into it.”

Randy nodded again, and cast another wary eye towards the scarecrows. Dwayne looked over his shoulder.

“I better get back; the old guy will wonder where I am. Told him I needed a drink of water.”

“
What is it that he has you doing out there?”

“
I... I’m not supposed to say.”

“
What happened to trust? Come on, Dwayne, you can’t keep things from me, especially when it comes to this place.”

“
Please, just drop it. Okay?”

“
Tell me.” He hissed, fighting the urge to manhandle his friend again.

“
I buried Kenny.” Dwayne said, his eyes wide and frightened.  

“He made me bury Kenny out there with the scarecrows.”

The words were enough to stop Randy in his tracks. All he could do was stare at his friend and wait for his mind to make some rational sense of the situation. Dwayne swallowed, and then lowered his voice.

“
You should have seen him Randy. He was all… fucked up, and the old man said if we didn’t bury him the crows would be angry. I didn’t want to man, but we were right there in the middle of them, and let me tell you, it feels like they are watching you all the damn time. Not just looking at you, but through you. I had no choice.”

“
And when were you going to tell me about this?”

“
I don’t know, later maybe. Just as soon as I had come to terms with it myself. You don’t know how difficult it was Randy, you really don’t.”

“
You could have refused.”

Dwayne smiled, and for the first time since they had arrived, Randy saw a flash of that darkness appear in his eyes.

“No, it doesn’t work like that man. You might think so, but you are safe down here by the house. Out there!” He jabbed a dirty thumb over his shoulder. “It’s...
different
. The atmosphere is different. And that old man, he talks and, damn, it makes sense.”

“
Sounds like excuses to me.”

“
Fuck you, man.” Dwayne said, still wearing that same horrible smile. “You don’t know anything about it, you don’t understand.”

“
I think I’m starting to. I think it’s all starting to make sense.”

“
Don’t you tell me my business. Back at school you might be a big hotshot wrestler, and Mr Popularity, but out here, you’re no better than me.”

“
What the hell are you talking about? I never said I was better than anybody.”

“
Bullshit, you know what I’m talking about. Here comes Randy, everyone loves him, everyone wants to be his friend, well that’s fine, but here and now, someone has to do the dirty jobs that nobody else wants to, and because I’ll do anything to save our ass, it’s up to me to do it, so don’t you dare preach to me and try to come across like some clean cut, never-do-anything-wrong asshole, because I won’t stand for it.”

Dwayne was glaring at Randy, his fists balled at his sides. Randy didn’t want to fight, and the ferocity of his friend’s outburst hurt him more than he would have ever expected.

“Something’s changed, you aren’t the same.” Randy whispered, backing away from Dwayne and trying to diffuse the aggression. It seemed to work, as Dwayne relaxed, and ran a dirty hand through his hair.

“
Look, we can talk later when we’ve both calmed down, but right now, I have to get back to work.”

Randy didn’t have an answer for that, and Dwayne didn’t wait for one. Instead, he turned and jogged towards the field. Randy watched him go, and still couldn’t shake the feeling that the scarecrows were watching. He imagined they were
smiling.

Randy
spent the rest of the day alone. Dwayne and the old man had stayed out in the fields, and even after sundown hadn’t returned. Not wanting to speak to either of them anyway, Randy went to bed early, but the combination of paranoia and isolation meant that sleep took a long time to come. He heard them come in just after midnight, and a little later, the house was silent. He tossed and turned for a further hour, and then realising that sleep wasn’t going to come to him anytime soon, got out of bed and went downstairs.

He put a pan of water on to boil, hoping that a cup of tea (the old man had stockpiled bags of the stuff in the cellar) would help him to relax enough to get a few hours rest.

He saw the dancing torch beam through the kitchen window as he was rinsing his cup. He stared into the field, watching the zig-zagging blade of light as it moved around in the darkness. In an instant, all thoughts of drinking tea were forgotten.

He hoped that it was the old man who was out there, and somehow ignored his instincts which told him otherwise. Quietly, he walked to the door, knowing that just outside would be his answer.

The old man had a thing about dirty floors, and insisted on shoes and boots being left outside the house. As Randy opened the door, he hoped to see Dwayne’s boots next to his own trainers, and the old man’s missing. Any alternative would mean that he truly was alone, and that Dwayne was falling under the same spell that had enchanted the old man years earlier.

He swung the door open, but couldn’t bear to look to the floor to see if his suspicions were right. He realised that his entire future could rest on a pair of dirty boots. He took a deep breath, and looked down.

The old man’s boots were there, as were Randy’s own. He had expected that Dwayne’s would be missing, but his too were there, set neatly next to the others. Randy looked from the boots out into the fields and the torch beam that still danced and cut through the air.

There was somebody else out there.

Randy charged across the garden, crushing the crops that he had spent the last few days tending to. He knew he had to warn whoever was out there and tell them to leave before it was too late. Maybe he could even ask them to go for help. He was almost to the boundary of the crops, and the scarecrows loomed like sentinels framed by the night sky. He paid them no heed and charged into the field, twisting and ducking around their reaching arms as he approached the flashlight beam.

“Go back.” He screamed, hoping that it might frighten the would-be e
xplorers away. “Get out of here,”

He could see them in his mind, naive kids, much like he was just a few days ago, looking to get a thrill by creeping onto the Samsonite Farm to laugh at his scarecrows, but this was no laughing matter, and Randy knew that he had to warn them, whatever the cost. He stumbled, and one of the scarecrows dry, stick fingers scraped his cheek, but he kept his footing and went on. The torch beam was just ahead of him now, and he exploded into the clearing hoping it wasn’t too late to stop them, when he froze.

It was Dwayne.

He was naked and dancing, gibbering to himself as he swung the torch around over his head. He was covered in dirt and as Randy looked on, he paused and scooped up a large handful of earth and shoveled it into his mouth.

“What the fuck....” Was all Randy could manage, and as he watched his friend, he found that he was more afraid of him than of the scarecrows.

Dwayne ignored him, and continued to dance in circles, hopping on one foot as he laughed and muttered. Randy realised that if they were to leave,
they couldn’t wait. He saw Dwayne’s discarded clothes piled up on the floor, and began to search through them, looking for the lighter.

“You won’t find
it.” Dwayne cackled. “I buried it.”

“Where? Where did you bury it?” Randy screamed, but Dwayne only laughed.

“They have it now.” He said, then picked up another handful of earth and ate it. Randy could see that his stomach was bloating as he engorged himself.

“Come on man.” Randy pleaded. “We need to get out of here, we need to go home.”

Dwayne stopped dancing and looked at Randy, then flashed a dirty grin.

“I am home.” He said simply, and then started to dance again, swinging the torch above his head.

Horrified and dazed, Randy backed away, and ran back to the house before whatever was in the earth here infected him too. He kept waiting for the cold, dry grip of the scarecrows to impede him, but they let him pass without incident, seemingly content for now with Dwayne. He exited the trees, and paused by the crops, hands on his knees.  His mind swam with the enormity of what had happened, and he walked back towards the house in a daze, unsure what the next move should be. He entered the house and closed the door behind him, then sat at the kitchen table, holding his head in his hands.

“Do you see it now?” The old man said as he walked out of the shadows.

Randy didn’t answer. Jorell walked to the table and sat opposite Randy.

“They have him, just like they took me all those years ago.”

Randy lifted his head, fully intending to give the old man hell, but stopped when he saw him. His face was swollen and he had cuts across the bridge of his nose and eye. He offered Randy a dejected smile, and poured them both a mug of moonshine from the jug on the kitchen table.

“What the hell happened to you?” Randy asked as the old man set the glass of alcohol in front of him.

“I think you know, or at least suspect the answer to that question.”

“Dwayne. He did this didn’t he?”

The old man nodded, and drained his glass.

“I was having him help me out there. I used to be able to do it on my own but I’m getting old, and my joints don’t work so good. Those things insist on me planting new ones every few weeks, and I couldn’t do it by myself.”

The old man grimaced, and took another thoughtful sip. Randy could see that his hands were shaking.

“I didn’t think they would get to him as long as I stayed with him. I thought he would be alright. But I noticed him starting to change, and so I told him to come back down to the house earlier this morning.”

“I saw him; he said he had come back for water.”

“I suspect he did, but that wasn’t the reason. He was supposed to be helping me plant the crows, but I saw him digging in the dirt. Using his bare hands he was, and I could hear him whispering to himself as he did it. I didn’t like that, reminded me too much of myself way back in the beginning, so I sent him away. He refused, I insisted. Then he took the shovel and did this.”

The old man pointed to his eye, which was almost swollen shut.

“Left me there and continued to dig and talk to whatever it is in the dirt here. I suspect he only came back to the house to keep you from coming over to see what was happening. Whilst he was over talking to you, I was out there bleeding under the sun and unable to get up.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, how could I know...”

“Don’t beat yourself up about it kid, it’s not your fault.” The old man said, offering Randy a top up of
the moonshine. Randy accepted the offer, and the old man went on. “So he comes back, and he starts talking to this hole in the ground, telling it all about your plans.”