THE SCARECROW

THE SCARECROW

NEW PHOTONOVEL

“THE SCARECROW”

Story: HÜSEYİN SORGUN

Photography and Editing: SÜLEYMAN DUMAN

Assistant: Onur Koç

Cast

Ayberk KarakavuzErtuğ BalkanBengisu Çolak

THE ONLY THING WE HAVE TO FEAR IS FEAR ITSELF.

Goethe

Hasan Aga was furious…

“I will labour, they will benefit from it!” It was unacceptable. He got more and more furious as he thought about it; he hurled curses to the unknown as he got more furious.

The number of children was proportional to the acreage of the field.…

But the existence of the field was beyond children for Hasan Aga.…

He had slept late one morning. When he got to the field, the situation was heartbreaking. The crop he cared for meticulously had been attacked by birds and picked to shreds. Hence was his fury.He deployed some of his children to locations he thought were important. After strictly warning, no one to leave their locations until a second command, he jumped into his tractor and landed up in home. He was searching for a brilliant solution to this problem. But among many choices, the one he believed in the most was making a scarecrow.

“After eight children,” he said, “this will be the ninth.”

And so it was…

Yes, I was Hasan Aga’s favorite. Even though what you know is that he sired me in one night with the fury of one morning, the real story is a different one!

“I have been in his and your heads even as infants.”

Actually, Hasan Aga did not make an ordinary scarecrow; the fears he collected from his existence, throughout his life were my raw material and finally that night, he made a scarecrow terrifying as a nightmare, frightening as silence and vague as the darkness. I was Aga’s fears, I was Hasan Aga.

The scarecrow was fulfilling his task thoroughly. The whole village had gotten their share of fear, even crops in the field, let alone any living creature coming close. Folks of the village had realized the scarecrow, they were waiting for Hasan Aga to dispose of it.

One night, jumping into his tractor, Hasan Aga disappeared in the darkness of night. When he got to the field the scarecrow was not there.

He could only say “The Scarecrow is gone!” to the folks of the village who were waiting for him.

Yes, I was gone.

I was a scarecrow.

So I had a soul.

A soul that scared the living.

And that soul was steadily growing, expanding.

I strayed for days…

I had been alone since I left the village.

Sometimes I would show myself to an afield bird or a lizard, I would enjoy scaring them. But it was not enough.

Since I was a talented scarecrow, I had to gather together new fears and try them on humans.

I should go after bigger fears!

I should set fears upon people…

And so I did…

CHAPTER 2

“When I was little, I used to get very scared when I looked at dead people’s photographs. It was like they were still living in that paper and staring as though they wanted to talk to me.”

I am still scared!

I photograph my fears. To get rid of them. Maybe I’m keeping them alive.

Do I

have th

e cou

rage

for a

confront

ation

?

She was seeing herself as she looked at her photographs. Stuff scattered around, shoes missing their pairs, books she never read, lives she never lived…

It was a day no different than the others. But she had never dwelled in her emotions so intensely.

She headed towards her darkroom to continue developing…

The fear inside her was growing; a cold she could not understand the reason for was captivating the room. She wondered if she had ever been possessed with such fear before or not.

Bromide paper was develop-ing simultaneously with the fears she created in her head. “How terrifying can thinking about oneself be?” she asked herself.

As long as she was in the room, she thought she would freeze to death. She had to go out and get some air after she developed.

But there was something that never should have been there! In the room…

She still has not seen me. New fears I gathered meticulously are on me. I can already hear the sound of fear.

She will look at me, she will see herself and finally, she will have her confrontation.

HİİHH

Who’s there!?

You called for me.

I never called for anyone!

Who are you?

You are closely acquainted with me.

I am your fears!

HEEEELP!

Of course you will go!

You too will run away from your fears like all the others. I have known very few people who had the courage for a confrontation.

They never saw me again…

CHAPTER 3

-Call an ambulance NOW!

-Can you hear me?

He’s breathing!

Hot asphalt

BLOOD

Siren sounds

A life broken to pieces!

I AM SCARED!

Why am I still scared

even though it’s been

five years since the

accident?

It’s not just having an accident or dying, in fact I’m experiencing all kinds of fears that I can’t define. Absurd fears and a darned absurd life created by those absurd fears!

Damn it! I’m anxious even when I’m in the shower.

ÇIRT..ÇIRT

I reach for my cigarette and in the time course of lighting my cigarette I get lost in that vortex of thoughts I build in my head, from where I made a mistake, to how I rendered myself as such.

That shower was a bit of a relief for me. I wish I could confront all my pointless fears. Then I would make a new life, get a new motorbike. No! I wouldn’t. No! I need happiness without any accidents from now on.

Hey! I’m talking to you. Empty house.

Used happiness is

not-what-I-waaaant!

Ah! My head!

HEY! AND WHO ARE YOU? HOW DID YOU GET INTO MY HOUSE?

Who the hell are you? Get out of my house immediately!

You called for me.

What do you mean I called for you? I didn’t call for anybody!

I’m either actually going crazy.

Or there really is someone in my house!

There he is, sitting.

Damn it who’s this guy?

You kept me alive in your head for five years and now you are kicking me out? You wanted to face your fears, here is your chance. I am right in front of you. I cannot say you do not need to be scared considering that it is my job. You can be scared.

But they usually run

away the minute they

are alone with their

fears.

So what, you’re my fears?

Yes.

I had always

wondered about

my fears.How

come I can see

you?

People very rarely see me.

They keep insisting on

confrontation.

But they usually run

away the minute they

are alone with their

fears.

Why am I scared then? What for?

Fear, is the route to the dark side. Fear causes Anger; anger causes hate; and hate causes pain. All this fear is be-cause you are hurting.

They did not talk for a while… This was not the answer he was looking for. Why was he here? He was afraid enough as it was. Maybe he would not have been through all this if it was not for that horrible accident. “I have the courage to confront you though” he thought to himself…

Just as the scarecrow was leaving…

How can I free myself of you?

You are my captive as long as you cannot overcome your fears…

CHAPTER 4

HEEELLP! I was the fear that reflected on windows of some houses.

Now I had discov-ered the language of people who lived in cities. They were opening up to me, accepting me as one of their own. My one glance was enough for most of them. At that mo-ment, I was one by one bringing their fears to light which they had hidden inside, in the depths of their hearts. The ones that looked at me saw a little of themselves too.Just like Hasan Aga…

Every city I stopped by was a school for me. But I was looking for the bigger, the scarier.

My route was always taking me to big cities. I got to know new people, new fears.

I went to the deepest places of The City.

One day I happened to go to a big city. But this city was nothing like the others.

I wandered around people all day. There was a deafening hum.

In the shore, a young man and woman’s conversation got my attention:

We did such a go

od

thing by running

away here.

Of course. I love you so much.

The city,

such a frig

htening

thing, isn’t it? Yes. But we have to

live here!

They shivered and got scared in front of the view they had seen, just like me. We were in the same city. Now this was my city: Scary and binding. A city one learned to live with fears.

But I had been hasty in loving this city.

It was impossible to read anything from the faces of people in this city. The people of this city were hard to crack. It was as if they had a mask on their faces, which kept me from reaching their fears. Time had left its residue on fears, locking them away in somewhere deep. Time was against me. In this city, which I came with great many hopes, my talent had started dying down completely. But I had been hasty in loving this city.

I remembered that I smiled the last time I scared someone…

“IF A SCARECROW SMILES, HE IS FINISHED AFTER ALL” I SAID TO MYSELF.

THE END

Yes, I was gone.

I HAD TO BE GONE. BECAUSE, FEAR HAD YIELDED TO HATE…