Smiley’s Fall
by Melanie White
The attic has been dark for so long that I am caught off guard when Mister Man flips the switch to illuminate its suitcases and boxes of memorabilia: old letters, kids’ school projects, photos that didn’t make the wall. Stuff that’s still wanted…but not needed…at least not on a regular basis. I live in the seasonal décor section in a box marked “Autumn,” along with plastic pumpkins, fake corncobs, and something called a cornucopia.
Suddenly, my home is mobile. When it stops, the cardboard roof flaps open, and Mister Man sees me with my stitched on smile. He re-roofs the box, and my heart sinks. He has made a mistake; it’s not my time yet.
But he doesn’t seal it, and a light glimmers in; there is still hope. Moving, moving…but not back to the old neighborhood. Thunk, thunk, thunk: I have experienced this earthquake before: I think they called it “going down the stairs.” But I don’t mind the jostling because I know it means the time has come for me to leave my home.
I will go out into the world where I will hear the birds sing, and some of them will massage my shoulders. The cold wind will blast my face as red, orange, and gold leaves dance to its silent music. I will see the brightening sky as each day begins with different colors: sometimes pink, sometimes gray, sometimes blue. Always a little different. And each day will end with the sunlight fading into black, sometimes with other colors too.
And when it’s not cloudy, there are beautiful stars sparkling on the night time stage. It seems like almost the same show every night, but the moon slightly changes, showing more or less of its rounded figure. Each day will be different: some sunny, some cloudy, some cold, some windy. Then I will watch it end, giving way to a new passing each night.
Maybe there will be snow. I have experienced that twice before, and once I got a temporary snowman friend. We talked a lot before he melted away, and I still miss him. If it snows, perhaps he will return with stories about where he has been.
I will sit on a hay bale and take in everything so that I can remember this time in the dark months to come when the only visitors I will get are spiders, roaches, and the occasional mouse who nibbles on my fake straw before spitting my insides out. I am thankful for my time because the memories are worth the wait.
When my box is still again, Mister Man raises the roof, and lifts me to freedom. The brightness blinds me, but still I smile.
Mrs. Woman says, “What are you doing?”
Mr. Man answers, “Getting the scarecrow.”
She says, “But I got a new one on sale, remember? It’s in the garage.”
He says, “Oh. What should I do with this one?”
“That old, tattered thing? Throw it away.”
“Maybe Billy would like to have him up in the tree house?”
“I don’t think there’s room.”
“I hate to get rid of the old guy. We’ve had him for so long now.”
“Since when are you sentimental?”
“We got him the year Billy was born.”
“Is that why you want to put him up in the tree house?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, I don’t care what you do with him, so long as the new one is out for the neighbors to see.”
“Come on, Smiley. I think you’ll like the view from the tree house.”
Up, up, up, flying like the birds.
Creak…the door opens. In the dark, a shadowy figure moves.
“No dads allowed,” Boy man says.
“I brought you a roommate,” Mister Man holds me up.
“I don’t want no stinky old scarecrow.”
“But he’s Smiley!”
“I don’t care.”
“We got him when you were born.”
“Wow. That means he’s like ten-years-old.”
“Yeah.”
“Go away and take the scary crow man with you.”
Down, down, down. The sky is darkening as the day ends. Mister Man carries me somewhere I have never been in the back of the house.
“Sorry to have to do this to you, but I guess you’re not wanted here any more.”
He releases me into a cold metal container and darkness descends.