The Last Scarecrow

6 | Lazarus

Twelve hauled their boat down the cobbled path towards the water.

"Hang on," said Erin, scratching her chin thoughtfully. "We cannot launch until we've given her a name."

"A name?"

"Yes. It's tradition."

Twelve stopped abruptly, tilting her gargantuan head.

"How about-" she said, then paused, her fingers twitching. "Dragon? Or Drago?"

Erin took a short inhale of breath.

"Your brother loves dragons," the scarecrow went on, pointing towards the little plastic figurine that nestled beside the graves of her parents. "Perhaps it will bring us luck in our quest to find him!"

"Wait here," Erin said, running up the hill to the farmhouse.

She returned several minutes later with a carved Chinese dragons head, painted red and gold, that she'd liberated from the top shelf of her brother's book cabinet.

"It was Clyde's- is Clyde's," she explained, her voice catching on his name. "Father said he got it in the Far East, but I think it was from a gift shop in Chinatown. Nevertheless, my brother loved it very much."

"Loved?"

Erin bit her bottom lip. "Here," she said, passing the head to Twelve.

Twelve ran her eyes over the wooden head. The mouth was flung open, nostrils flaring as tendrils of smoke and fire etched its cheeks. Dark eyes resonated with a foreboding, ancient knowledge.

"He's called Lazarus."

Nodding, Twelve strapped it to the front of the boat.

"I'll find some paint," Erin told her.

After a quick tour of the barn, she returned with a pot of white paint and adorned both sides of the ship with its name, before announcing, "I name this vessel Lazarus in the name of the Queen, and the Gods, and the adventurous spirit of every heart that ever took to the Endless Blue!"

"Hooray!" Twelve cheered at the top of her voice. "What are your orders, Captain Erin?"

"I think it's time we set sail, First-Mate Twelve," she replied, saluting.

The scarecrow saluted back.

Raven made a victorious squawk.

Erin dashed back up the hill and filled her rucksack with the last of the tins, an opener, and the remnants of the greenhouse. She swiped her yellow poncho from the understairs cupboard and the thick blanket from the sofa. Stopping in the living room doorway she turned and went to the sideboard where the family photo albums lived. Taking her favourite picture of the entire family at Christmas and Clyde's high school promo shot, she stuffed them into her bag and left.

Returning to the shore, Erin leaped onto the front of the boat. She sat behind the dragon figurehead, stowing her goods under the seat.

Raven gazed down from his position in the Crow's Nest as Twelve heaved Lazarus across the last of the cobbles, down to the muddy shoreline and into the water.

Once they were settled on the waves, and Lazarus showed no sign of leaking, the scarecrow hauled her long legs and heavy boots onboard and took up the oars.

Twelve propelled Lazarus effortlessly across the flat grey ripples, moving slowly towards the small clump of land where Number Eight had once hung.

Erin turned, smiling at the scarecrow. She took the slightest glance towards the two headstones that marked Ma and Pa's graves and uttered a gentle farewell before turning her bright eyes to the adventure that spread before them.