"You don't have to talk, if you don't want to." The scarecrow speaks again, tilting back on its pole to look up at the moon for a second, then turning toward you. "I'm glad to have someone here, anyway."

Ohhhhhhh shit, you think to yourself, there was definitely something gross in that stagnant well water I drank earlier, which I guess makes you trip your balls off... Might as well go with it. The knowledge that you're not actually dealing with a magic scarecrow, you just gave yourself lead poising or whatever, allows you relax.

"I can talk," you say to the scarecrow, now more bemused than anything. "I'm surprised you can."

"Usually I can't. My moon is out tonight." It leans back again on its pole, face tilted upward.

"Right. So, do you have a name?"

"There were children here once. They called me Corey. Short for Cornelius. That was my favorite." The scarecrow sounds wistful, still staring at the moon. "They're gone now."

"Oh, uhm. Sorry, uh, Corey. That sounds tough."

"It is the way of things."

There's silence for a minute. You occupy yourself by looking up at the moon along with the scarecrow. Then it- Corey- speaks again, turning back toward you.

"I'll be gone soon, too."

"Where are you going?"

"To rest. My moon is here, so it's time." You don't really know what to say to that, but Corey keeps talking, his painted smile growing wide again. "I'll be back though."

You still don't know what to say, so you go with, "Oh?"

"Yes. Without me, the fields would wither and die."

"I believe that. I saw the biggest crow earlier, or I guess it could have been a raven, I don't know. It stole a necklace, amulet thing from me and a ring from this crazy lady... anyway its a long story but what I'm saying is, you must be pretty tough to keep those kinds of birds away."

Corey chuckles. "Ah, that one. You would think a crow like that would be my mortal enemy, but after all of this time we've come to understand each other. He means no real harm, its only that everything is like a game to him. Apparently, he is playing with you." Corey gave a wry smile. "He does not trouble me. His lesser cousins, though... I have instilled in them a healthy fear and they dare not encroach."

You sit on the ground next to Corey's pole, pulling your knees in and staring back up at the moon. There's a contemplative silence for a few minutes, before Corey speaks again.

"When the littlest of the children was first learning to speak, his elder siblings tried to teach him to say my name. Cornelius. Corey. They'd say it to the baby over and over, but he couldn't make the sounds. For that summer, he could only call me 'Corny.'" He chuckled. "He would wobble down the lane shouting 'Corny, Corny!' And his brother or sister, or sometimes his mother, would lift him up and he would press his cheek to my cheek and squeeze until I thought my straw would fall right out!"

Your throat tightens. "You miss them."

"Yes. But," Corey swivels, looking down at you. "I protected them. I protected their home. The corn grew tall and golden, and so did my children."

"Well," you say, pitching your voice low to keep it steady, "Maybe one of them will come back? Maybe all of them will, maybe they'll have their own kids and bring them here, too."

Corey looks a little amused at this. "No, I think not. We all have our roles to fill. Children grow up, and I keep the land here, and we will do what we are meant to do."

You don't respond, looking back up at moon instead.

"I did not mean to trouble you with my memories. Only, it has been so long since anyone has sat my vigil with me. Thank you."

You shift and smile at the scarecrow. "I'm glad I could be here," you say sincerely, before turning your eyes back up to the sky.

You wake up in the barn, pale sunlight coming in through the loft window. The cat curled up on your legs at some point and you're grateful for the warmth, although it darted away toward the barn door as soon as you shifted your weight a fraction. You recall your strange night, apparently the result of hallucinogenic well water, but feel fine now. As a matter of fact, you feel great.

You stretch and pull the barn door open, half expecting to be greeted by a sentient scarecrow. You're actually a little disappointed when Cor- the scarecrow, isn't standing where he was in your dream. The cat gives you a quick rub against the leg and bounds out into the field. You walk out and peer down the lane; the scarecrow is right where he should be. Still, some sentimental part of you wants to give it a quick farewell before you continue looking for a way home. You stroll over to the scarecrow.

"Hi, uh, Corey." You feel like a moron. "Thanks for telling me that story last night." Its goofy painted on smile doesn't budge.

"Well, okay so I have to go. Bye." You fight the urge to give the thing a hug, instead opting for a pat on its stuffed shoulder as you move to walk back toward the barn. You notice a thin leather cord around its neck. Feeling nauseas, you lift the cord up and find your crow amulet. You're sure the scarecrow wasn't wearing it yesterday, or in your weird trippy dream for that matter. You might puke. But you manage a tentative smile at the scarecrow as you lift the amulet over its canvas-bag head and withering crown. Clutching the amulet, your eye catches on a glint of metal on a finger of the stuffed gardening glove that make up Corey's hands. Its that crazy lady's ring. You actually shake a little as you take it off and slide in onto your middle finger, the only place it will fit. You have absolutely no idea what the entire fuck is happening, but at least you have more stuff than you did a minute ago and who knows what might come in handy. You resolve not to question it, and just get fucking home as soon as you can.

Still, you can't help but think Corey got these things back for you from his frenemy, that gigantic green crow. Its so stupid, but... you wrap your arms around the scarecrow for just a second and squeeze. "Thanks Corny. Have a good rest." The scarecrow doesn't hug you back. You slide the amulet over your neck and walk back to the barn to get your bearings.