Bewere the Night

before building better firewalls. I’d grown rich selling credit cards to other sharks.

Jaslene didn’t know what I did, not really. She was willing to believe it was too technical for her, just happy for the cash flowing into her greedy hands. And who could blame her? I wasn’t the best catch, unsophisticated and hard edged. But I was rich, and that made up for a lot.

That year, though, that seven-year-itch year, I’d started taking stupid risks. The FBI was on my tail again. I needed to lay low, keep to the shadows, only spend what I already had, but I couldn’t stop myself from ravaging yet another system. My famous control was shaky, at best.

Jaslene accused me of being cruel, exposing the soft underbelly of her insecurities, telling secrets not mine to share. She left the week before my change.

Was it me? Or was it the beast? Maybe I’d reached my limit on small talk with Jaslene’s friends and smiles hiding sharp teeth. Maybe the monster was hungry for recognition.

Still. Jaslene shouldn’t have left. She was my first, my only love, after Mama had died. I didn’t have anything soft from the beautiful Buena Vista Estates: everything kind had been sweated out between the heat and the bugs, the broken promises and the dirt. Jaslene had seen that steel and not been afraid to carve out a place between the bars, upwind from the sewer of my heart.

She belonged with me. To me. And now she was gone.

The door to my own panic room stood open. The change was upon me. And she will be here, any moment now. She’d begged me for the truth of my life, accused me of hiding behind my scars.

Come my love. See me. All of me. Be with me forever, blood of my blood, flesh of my flesh, a sweet taste on my tongue and a full belly at the end of my tenure in my room.

Because at the end, the only one I can control is me.

AN UNNATURAL HISTORY OF SCARECROWS by Mario Milosevic

Straw for guts, as a rule. Also for limbs and general bulk. Other materials will do, but straw is always available so why not use it? For clothes, torn and raggedy cast offs, often patched, often faded. It gives the scarecrow a tough look, like they don’t care about getting down and dirty when the occasion warrants such actions. They’ll wade into a fight if they have to.

Sticks will do for hands and feet, although neither is truly necessary. Crows have vivid imaginations and they can extrapolate from straw limbs to fingers and toes with little effort.

The head should be sculpted from burlap, again stuffed with straw. The eyes, nose, and mouth painted on. You can make it menacing if you want, but it isn’t necessary. Just the suggestion of a human face is supposed to be enough to frighten the crows.

A hat will complete the look. You should have a hat, unless you elect to give your scarecrow a head of hair, but such affectations generally detract from the overall effect. You can make a hat look much more natural than fake hair.

The alert student will note that the scarecrow, as outlined above, does not do what it purports to do. In other words, crows are generally not frightened by scarecrows.

This is no one’s fault. All inventions go through stages. At one time, in the distant past, I believe that such avatars did scare crows, but over the years the crows grew accustomed to them and learned that they did no harm whatsoever. We must now apply our intellect and imaginations and concoct the next stage in the evolution of scarecrows. Any suggestions as to how we might go about this?

Ah, yes, you with your hand up.

Pardon me?

You’re saying we should interview a crow.

Now class, calm down and save your snickering. It is not such a bad idea. In fact, I think it might be an excellent idea. Let’s begin by interviewing a crow.

Yes, here’s one flying by now. Excuse me. Crow. May I trouble you for a few moments?

Excellent, yes, thank you for stopping.

No this won’t take long.

What’s that?

You say you’re apolitical? I understand completely. But you see, this has nothing to do with politics.

No, I’m not asking you to sign any kind of petition or recall effort. I am interested in ascertaining what you are afraid of.

Yes, of course, I understand your suspicions, but I assure my motives are benign. I wish to produce a kind of scare device which will keep you and your kind from our agricultural regions.

I understand you need to eat, but we wish it that you would eat elsewhere.

Of course you can refuse to answer. It is a free country, but I would be remiss if I did not inform you of the fact that if we do not produce a suitable device, we will be forced to take more drastic measures, up to and including the killing of crows.

Oh, dear. Are you all right?

I didn’t mean to upset you.

No, it is not that I want to kill crows, it is that I may be forced to do so, for our own survival. I’m sure you understand.

Oh. You don’t understand. Well, that’s understandable.

So you will not answer my questions?

Very well.

I wish you the best. Thank you for your time.

And there goes the crow, flying in a decidedly crooked line. That did not go so well at all. Are there any other suggestions?

Yes, the young lady in the back. You wish to offer an idea?

Ahem, well, yes I see where you are going with that. If we were in fact to become crows we would, by necessity, be aware of what we feared. But how, may I ask, do you propose to turn any of us into crows?

I thought so.

Any other suggestions?

A show of hands, please. Surely someone has some ideas. You are the most advanced class in the academy. Am I to deduce from the general lack of hands showing that my most gifted students are unable to offer a single viable path to success in the present situation? Or are you afraid to look foolish? What have I said about such fears?

Yes, the young man in the front row.

Exactly. There are no foolish ideas, only fools who will not attempt to create ideas.

So let me ask you, one more time, how might we go about creating the next generation of scarecrow?

Nothing?

No one will even attempt a proposal?

Class, what is all that ruckus?

Calm down, please.

What are you pointing at?

Ah, I see. A flock of crows. Yes, and they appear to be heading in this direction. Well, this is fortuitous. Perhaps the pressure of an actual attack will spur you to heights of accomplishment.

Why should we take cover? You do not fear the crows do you? If anyone should, it is me.

Now class, those crows appear to be upset and they wish to unleash their fury on us. Here is your moment. Seize it! How will you scare them away? By what mechanism or sorcery?

No. No. It will not do to run away. Not now. Come back! Class, obey me! Return to your seats this instant.