The Dream of a Scarecrow.®.

 The Dream of a Scarecrow ®

Fantasy. Mythical Multiverse Tale.

Jorge Ofitas. ®. Author.

Minerva owned a very beautiful garden near the seashore. A sea, by the way, that was always calm and sapphire-blue on some nights when a certain constellation passed by. Her garden was surrounded by fruit trees and other groves where birds nested that ate part of the fruits she carefully harvested, and dawn was the most inspiring time of day for her. There were fig trees, almond trees, apple trees, orange trees, beautiful pines, wild olive trees, and various fruits and vegetables. Alongside her orchard, she had a flower garden with a round lake in the center, surrounded by twelve statues of pure white, reflective color. The statues—all male—were all in love with Minerva. At first, she ignored it, though sometimes she thought she saw some of their eyes move; but when she turned her head to check, all their gazes were as they should be. It must’ve been her imagination. Worried about her garden, she decided to create a very special scarecrow to scare off the birds that ate the fruits, for in Minerva’s level of consciousness, death did not exist—much less killing. In her world, nature was forbidden from shedding the blood of living beings. What name would she give the scarecrow? She smiled. She creatively decided he needed to be an affectionate sort of Icarus, with a touch of a true clown, but also some ill temper—that is, spirit and anger against imposture. Of course, the scarecrow would never be aware of any of this.

So, she set to work with her immense mind and beautiful heart, asking the twelve statues surrounding the lake to create Icarus, the scarecrow. The statues lit up, directing a unified beam of light toward the waters of the small sky-blue lake. Minutes later, a handsome scarecrow emerged with eyes brown and green in summer, white skin—or rather, ruddy wood. The statues turned off, and Minerva carried Icarus to the orchard where she staked him into the ground before returning home near the sea. She gave him a kiss and lovingly told him to take care of the garden, saying it was the best job because he’d never have to do anything but stand still. Of course, she was joking with herself, for Icarus was just a lifeless puppet—although in truth, that wasn’t the case. Icarus, the scarecrow, could see and hear everything, even if they didn’t know it. He also had a long-distance sense of smell and touch; he only lacked taste, for he lived on nothing, as if he were immortal.

Strangely, some birds began to circle Icarus, who was quite upset to see that he didn’t scare them—quite the opposite, they seemed to like him. If this kept up, he would surely end up in the bonfire. Then the largest bird among them—a beautiful pure-white peregrine falcon—alongside two crows, one on each side, began to speak telepathically to Icarus, who could hear them. He could also reply. The falcon’s proposal was that they didn’t want to ruin his life but that he should let some birds eat fruit without making Minerva too angry. Icarus thought: “If they’re not afraid of me and I can’t make them leave, why are they offering me a deal?” Then he saw the light, for he realized he could speak telepathically to Minerva. That must have been what the birds feared. So, he accepted the deal without saying another word, and all the birds returned to their nests and hiding places. A wise owl came at night and gifted him a lotus flower with a frog inside so he’d never be alone again. Icarus wanted to smile, but he couldn’t make the slightest gesture, for his nature was to remain rigid. Sometimes he could move his eyes, but only during the fifteen luminous days of the moon. He looked at the owls and the stars, seeing in the distance Minerva’s little house, whom he considered a goddess, for she had created him and made him feel. He dreamt of the sea when he fell asleep thinking of Minerva until a bird’s peck would wake him, and he’d start growling. Wait. Where had that growl come from? Over time, he could do more and more things, although when Minerva came to the garden, he would go completely still, pretending to be just a ruddy wooden scarecrow.

One beautiful full moon night, Minerva suddenly arrived at her garden. The statues in the lake bathed in it on nights like that. However, none of those mysterious beings—visible or not—expected Minerva, who arrived with two goddesses: Hecate and Artemis. They entered the magical sky-blue, dazzling lake to bathe in the full moons, surrounded by the beautiful statue-sculptures of wise, strong masters made of light and porcelain, who could become white marble. Icarus could see everything from his spot in the garden. He knew that all the statues by the fountain were alive like him, but they kept the secret, suspecting that if Minerva discovered they had souls and life, she would be afraid and destroy them. Although at times, she spoke to them as if she did know they were alive.

Suddenly, one statue’s eyes lit up and came to life. It was a mythological archer statue, madly in love with the goddess Minerva. At that moment, Minerva’s sister goddesses vanished. Icarus tried to leave his post in the garden to save the goddess who had created him. He knew that the statue was resentful of Minerva for how she used her powers. If she disappeared, that entire suspended paradise in the multiverse would vanish too. He called all the birds to attack the statue, but the winged ones told him they had no access to the magical garden. “The only thing we can do,” they said, “is build you wings so you can fly to her and prevent her death—and the death of the visible paradise.”

The birds and other clever insects built wings for Icarus, large enough to fly to the lake where the goddess was in imminent danger. Now there were two statues approaching her. But the second was in love with Minerva and fought the archer who, in truth, also loved her—he didn’t want to hurt her, just possess her and have a large progeny so he could be freed from the stone and become a demigod and retire to the woods to meditate until his death. In the end, all that happened was that Minerva rose from the lake and the statues returned to their places.

The next day, Minerva decided to remove the orchard and expand the garden, and of course, burn Icarus with his lotus and his frog, which had been a secret medal of honor from the birds. Icarus longed to cry for not being able to speak or say anything. She seemed sad to part with him. She finally lit a bonfire and threw him in, the flames rising to the sky as Icarus melted, gazing at Minerva until he was extinguished in the starry night, taking with him all his dreams, which were automatically stored in the stars. Suddenly, Minerva saw that all the birds had vanished, the fruits and plants withered, the moon had gone dark, and the stars were gone. She ran to her sea mansion to weep, feeling deep sorrow for having burned Icarus—and because everything was disappearing.

When she awoke, everything was once again filled with positive energy, and the night was beautiful. She stepped outside and was startled: Icarus the scarecrow was standing there, just like the one she had created. He had a note in his hand, and the lotus flower with the frog was still hanging from his now-luminous jacket. She approached to take the note and embraced Icarus with her tears, asking his forgiveness for burning him. Then she heard: “You have to read the note. You have to read the note.” Where did those deep words come from? She reached for the note, but the peregrine falcon that had returned snatched it away, saying telepathically to the goddess: “You are not worthy of this scarecrow! You must pay for having burned him.”

“I will pay what I must… but what did the note say?” exclaimed the goddess.

That was when Minerva suddenly turned into a female scarecrow, and both were taken to the orchard by the invisible gods—the creators of the lake and great statues—and staked facing each other for long winters. They stared into each other’s eyes, holding long telepathic conversations until they were exhausted. When spring finally came and the world blossomed after many millennia, one lovely morning Minerva awoke from a deep dream—someone was calling at her sea cave. It was another dolphin, like her, beautiful and calling himself Icarus. The two sailed the oceans together, knowing they had once been gods, frogs, statues, trees, insects, stars, moons, gemstones, sea pebbles, and suns—also cauliflowers and also scarecrows, and before all that, lotus flowers. So for a long time, besides loving each other, they had a lot to talk about in dolphin language throughout the Ocean Sea depths, until one day, when they were happiest, they found the note the peregrine falcon had taken, inside an aquatic cave. They looked at each other and decided to read it. The note said:

“All this is only the dream of a scarecrow.”

And with that, all that existence disappeared. Could such a fantasy return to existence? Or perhaps it only disappeared for certain and uncertain eyes? Who knows... the multiverse is vast.

THE END

Story by Jorge Ofitas.

Spain. 2019. ® Europe. 2025. ®