The Tale of Lord Barleycorn
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Chapter 5: Lettuce and mushrooms?
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There was a scarecrow sitting at the kitchen table.
Leadfoot couldn't believe it. His sister had come in from the fields riding on its back, and was casually chatting with it as she made it a sandwich! How was it talking?!
"I hope you like it, the bread's a little old..." Corn Crib said, balancing the presented plate on her nose.
"So long as it isn't moldy." It spoke with a kind tone. "What kind is it?"
Leadfoot's eyes nearly went as wide as the plate when the scarecrow pulled back its sleeves to reveal a pair of fleshy, furless hands. This was clearly not just a collection of straw and grandpa Harvest's clothes. This had to be something from the Everfree Forest!
Those articulated digits easily lifted the plate and set it on the table. The creature then took a moment to ruffle Corn Crib's mane, exciting a short-lived giggle from the tired filly.
The scarecrow lifted up the bread with its fingers, "Lettuce and mushrooms?"
"It's the best we got..." Corn Crib said, the tiniest hint of shame in her voice.
"Better than nothing I suppose." The scarecrow sighed, taking the sandwich in one of those hands. "But I'm honored that you're showing me such lofty levels of hospitality."
The scarecrow raised the sandwich, then with its free hand it pinched its burlap chin and pulld down. The wide rip that resembled lips parted, revealing more pink skin, and a pair of red lips. This second mouth opened in preparation to bite, and Leadfoot felt a his blood run cold. The teeth appeared only an instant before it bit into the sandwich, but they were sharp like a wolf's. White, sharp canines tore lettuce and bread as easily as scissors could snip paper.
"Corn Crib was with this thing, alone, in the dark... and it didn't eat her? Corn Crib must have had Celestia herself looking after her." Leadfoot shivered as he watched the monster take another bite. "This is like a Nightmare Night story come to life."
"Hunger is truly the best spice." It said, resting the remaining half of its sandwich before looking to Corn Crib. "Thank you again Ms. Harvest."
Corn Crib beamed at the compliment. "You're welcome. But what will you do next?"
"I intend on finishing this sandwich," Lord Barleycorn released his grip on his burlap 'mask, and his real mouth was hidden again. "Then, precisely what I promised you back in the field. I'll head off to your neighbors to see what they're doing differently. A promise is a promise."
"Um... should I warn the Sprout family about the talking scarecrow?" Leadfoot spoke up at last.
The scarecrow looked at Leadfoot with the very burlap sack the stallion had stuffed only days ago.
"No, I'd rather not cause them any undo stress. Besides, I doubt they'd believe you if you told them a scarecrow was coming to see how good a farm they run." He said, doing something with those fingers that produced a loud snap. "Sorry, Corn Crib ushered me inside so fast I didn't get a chance to introduce myself. Your forgiveness for my poor manners."
The scarecrow stood and bowed, which in the light of the kitchen allowed Leadfoot to examine the scarecrow, or rather the clothing the creature underneath was wearing. Leadfoot had personally stitched and stuffed each scarecrow, and this was the one that was missing from the corn. The hat he was wearing was Grandpa Harvest's favorite, and Leadfoot felt an urge to grab it.
"I'm Lord Barleycorn, Sovereign of all Autumn, Pumpkin king, and lord of scarecrows. Of course... my latest and most favorite title is friend of the Harvest family, or so I hope to make it."
"I'm Leadfoot, and we'll see about that." Leadfoot puffed out his chest, not letting the monster's size intimidate him. "So... are one of you going to explain what was all that ruckus I heard out in the field?"
The creature seemed nonplussed by Leadfoot's question, so much so that it raised a hand to its chin. It looked to Corn Crib and played with the edge of its burlap lip.
"I think he means when you tickled me." Corn Crib offered.
"Are you sure?" Lord Barleycorn mused in a playful tone, "Are you sure he didn't hear you scream because of the big bad bunny?"
"I was not scared!" Corn Crib stomped her hoof, "He... just surprised me."
The scarecrow sat back down and reclaimed his sandwich. "To be fair... it was rather dark..."
"Y-yeah... it could have been a coyote! Or a timberwolf!" Corn Crib hurried to say, clearly embellishing now that she had the opportunity.
The scarecrow only chuckled and pulled on his mask. Again, those teeth were seen as it spoke. "And you know why I wasn't worried Ms. Harvest?"
The filly shook her head.
"Because I had you there to protect me." He smiled, quickly polishing off the rest of his snack.
Leadfoot cleared his throat, giving his little sister a firm glare. "Sounds like you had a lot of fun. But your... friend should leave. What if mom or dad come down and see him?"
"Your brother is quite right. The last thing I want to cause is a fuss and it's very late." Lord Barleycorn took the plate to the sink. "You should head to bed."
"But..."
"No buts." The scarecrow waggled a finger at her. "The sooner you get to sleep, the sooner you can wake up, right?"
Corn Crib yawned, "I guess so... Good night."
"Good night, young princess."
Leadfoot watched as his sister walked out of the kitchen, only to pause and look back at the scarecrow. The smile Corn Crib flashed to him only furthered the mystery; what had transpired in the fields to make her behave so warmly to this... thing?
While Leadfoot listened to telltale groans of the stairs, Lord Barleycorn rinsed his plate. Leadfoot waited until he heard Corn Crib close her bedroom door before he returned his attention to the creature, who was now drying his plate with a wash towel.
"I know I should have washed it with soap... but there were only crumbs. You understand?" Lord Barleycorn chuckled warmly.
"Okay... I really don't know who or what you are but I don't like finding my sister with some strange two-legged thing pretending to be a scarecrow." Leadfoot stepped closer, trying to keep his voice down. "You had best be explaining yourself."
"This one will need more to convince him than a few flourishes and sweet words. Think think think..."
"I understand. Trust must be earned, not given freely, if it's to mean anything at all." Lord Barleycorn leaned against the kitchen counter. "As for why I'm here, well it isn't very complicated. I want to help, and I have experience with the maintenance and runnings of a farm. I'd be glad to offer my services for simple lodging and food."
"So you aren't really a scarecrow?" Leadfoot said accusingly.
"A scarecrow is a dummy made to sit on a pole and scare birds away. Clearly I'm doing neither at the moment." Lord Barleycorn sighed, "No, but I am a creature of autumn, and everything in this season falls under my protection."
"And that gives you the right to tear apart my scarecrows?" Leadfoot snorted, looking up and down at the clothes Barleycorn was wearing. "I spent a long time putting that together."
"I apologize, but... as I'm sure you noticed from my size and my teeth I can be... frightening. I would spend the night restoring this scarecrow to prime condition, but I sadly need the disguise. My goals, however, put me at your mercy."
"I don't see how I have you in any precarious situation." Leadfoot frowned, "Worse comes to worse. you'll just run off to the forest and leave us to pick up the pieces."
Lord Barleycorn then raised his hands, a clear defensive posture and shook his head. "No, in fact you have me in a very precarious position. I wish to help, and I am willing to work hard and for no praise. However, if you were to come running to your parents about me being some demon they would chase me away, and the whole town could string me up. I am strong, but I would never wish to face a whole community out for my blood. Which is why I say again, master Leadfoot, I am at your mercy."
Leadfoot's shoulders had slumped long before Lord Barleycorn had finished his speech. This creature was scared of them?
"That.. might be so, but my cousin is coming. She... is also a farmer." Leadfoot cleared his throat, "It was hard enough to get my dad too agree to have her come here. If he knew we had a talking scarecrow..."
"I gather your father is a very proud stallion?" Lord Barleycorn asked in a quiet, polite tone.
"You don't know the half of it." Leadfoot muttered, his eyes glancing back at the door, as if his father to appear at being mentioned.
"I can relate." The wistful inflection in the scarecrow's tone lasted only that sentence, but it left an impression on Leadfoot. Lord Barleycorn continued; "Then let my actions be attributed to your cousin, or to you, if they are positive. If I should fall short of your expectations, you can tell everypony about me. But let me succeed or fail on my own merits."
Leadfoot was dumbstruck. He had been expecting some pleading, bargaining, or even threats... and here 'Barleycorn' had instead responded with very convincing words. Convincing, perhaps, because those the very words Leadfoot had been hankering to say to his father for some time now.
"Maybe." Leadfoot said at last, but a yawn stole any conviction he might had tired to convey. "But what was that you kept saying about a promise?"
The scarecrow coughed, "Oh... I promised your sister that I would save this farm from going under."
Leadfoot stared at him, "... Can you?"
Lord Barleycorn cleared his throat, then stood straight and proud with one one hand across his chest. "I'm prepared to give it my all. "
Leadfoot frowned. "Why would you promise that? You should only make promises you know how to keep!"
"Because seeing your sister cry would have killed me." Lord Barleycorn shot, shooting a glare down at Leadfoot. "If in the end all I can give is hope, then I can say I did it all to make a little girl smile."
Leadfoot backed up a step. "H-hey don't make it sound like I don't want her to hope..."
"Sorry, I didn't mean to snap like that." The scarecrow made a sound like it was yawning. "We're both tired. I need to go out and see about that other farm. Go get some sleep and tomorrow we'll both have our thoughts more organized. I'll probably be napping in your hayloft."
The scarecrow trudged toward the door, sparing only a moment to look back at Leadfoot and give him a quick wave goodbye. When the door was closed and the scarecrow was on his way, Leadfoot locked the door. On his own way to bed the gray stallion was left more confused than ever. He wasn't sure if he was dangerous, but he seemed to genuinely care about Corn Crib. The sight of his bed pushed his questions aside. He'd sleep now, and tomorrow he'd work out his thoughts over breakfast.
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Dr. Cherry Nova resisted the urge to dig into his desk for his bottle of cider. The sight of such clear, beautiful night skies always made his maimed wing twitch. Rather than look at the crystal clear night Dr. Nova pulled the curtains closed and adjusted the lantern to brighten his clinic.
All night patients were something Dr. Nova was not used to. Since he had no nurses, it meant he had to stay up all night watching the panicked shoemaker.
Mr. Soles had come into Hollow Shades, ranting and raving about being attacked by some monstrous scarecrow he'd met on the road. When the townsfolk had brought Mr. Soles to Dr. Nova's door he'd asked them what in the name of Celestia was he supposed to do? He was a doctor, not a councilor.
When they started in with his doctor's oath to help everypony he relented, and given the panicked stallion a sedative and set him up for a physical. It was still mushroom season, and Dr. Nova was sure this shoemaker was just a little too overindulgent.
That cheap-looking cart was parked outside Nova's clinic, blocking his view of the night sky. The weather team would be working all day tomorrow-
The red pegasus shook his head. "We aren't going there again. It's unhealthy to dwell."
He yawned, "It's late, and he had enough sedatives to knock him out for another four hours. I don't think anypony would know if I got a nap."
The thought of giving Mr. Soles another injection and getting a full eight hours was tempting, but Dr. Nova didn't have any more. He glanced at his day planner, feeling another yawn on its way.
"Just Mr. Harvest... oh it looks like I'll have a full day." Dr. Nova muttered bitterly, "At least its not like last month when I had three patients all in one day. That was a mad house."
Climbing onto the one comfortable cot in the clinic's never-used intensive care ward, Cherry Nova settled down. Already he missed his beloved bed that was sitting, neglected at home.
"Talking scarecrows... sounds to me like somepony had a little cider tucked away." Cherry Nova snorted into his lumpy pillow. "If there was something like that here, I'd have it on my examination table, and I'd have scientists eating out of my hoof."
Cherry Nova smiled as he closed his eyes, ready to dream of greener pastures, far removed from this pathetic little town.
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To be continued...