Chapter 1: The crows in the field
His first memory that he could recall was when he was five years old. The sky was grey and the clouds were heavy with rain. He was standing next to a corn field with a small baseball bat in his hand, staring at a flock of birds. An unkindness of ravens were roosting in a nearby tree, cawing out to one another. Jonathan was edging closer to them, his baseball bat at the ready. As soon as he was close enough, he charged at them, yelling and waving his bat around. The ravens flew off, croaking at displeasure of having their conversation disrupted. Jonathan then sat on ground, smiling triumphantly. His favorite past-time was scaring birds. He loved how they flew straight away when he came at them. Satisfied, Jonathan looked around while his navy-blue overalls became tan with dust coming from a working tractor in the next field over. He was too busy relaxing that he didn't notice the cloud of black feathered birds coming straight at him. He looked up and screamed; a scream that was cut off by the sound of a hundred angry caws. He ducked and covered his head while the ravens screeched, tore, and pecked at his body. His fright paralyzed him, but he knew he had to escape. Jonathan gathered up his courage and got up in a crouching position. Without a moment's hesitation, he burst through the ranks of birds and ran faster then he had ever done before. He knew he had to reach his Grandma's house, knowing that it was his sanctuary. He ran into the golden field of corn and looked back. The mass of dark feathers were still following, shrieking out their murderous intent. His Grandmother's house was about a quarter of a mile away, but already he felt tired. The only thing that kept him going was his fear; the fear of being killed by hundreds of sharp, cruel beaks. Jonathan could see his Grandmother's yellow house in the distance, like a beacon of hope. His small legs gave an extra burst of energy but soon he slowed down, panting heavily. His legs gave out from beneath him and he fell into the dirt. He struggled to get up but he felt too weak to continue running. He saw the flock of ravens closing in on him and then everything went black.
Jonathan woke up on a worn green and white striped sofa. He looked around alarmed but then relaxed. He recognized the crucifix hanging on top of the doorway and the stacks of bibles on the bookshelf. He was in his Grandmother's house. He got up and noticed the nicks and scratches on his arms and face. He knew it could've been much worse. He then walked over to the window and nervously peered outside. Not a single bird was to be seen. Jonathan sighed in relief and went upstairs to see what his grandma was up to.
As he approached her room, he heard her wizened voice saying, "It's just so strange. I never saw crows actin' like that before. Luckily I found Johnny before they could do real damage to 'im."
She paused and then replied, "Well, they wouldn't leave him alone, 'till I shot at 'em." Another pause. "Ya well you be careful Mary. Bye to you too."
He heard her hang up and move toward the door. She opened the door and Jonathan looked up at her. Her wrinkled face and blue eyes showed concern and she asked him, "You feel better Johnny?"
Jonathan thought about what happened today and began to cry in fright.
"I was so scared Grandma!" He chocked out.
His Grandmother felt a wave of sympathy for her grandson and bent down to comfort him.
"Everything is gonna to be alright. I promise."
From that day onward, Jonathan never scared a bird again. Whenever a flock of birds roosted nearby, he would nervously walk away and play some where else. That day was firmly rooted in his mind and he never out grew his fear of birds.
Author's Note: I know that Jonathan seems very, well… un-Scarecrow like. But all little kids are some what cute and innocent, so I don't expect Jonathan to be any different at that age.