Dave walked Amy past the funnel cake stand and the ring toss, holding her hand so she wouldn't wander off into the busy crowd. She was seven and fast.
"Can we do the corn maze first?" she asked.
"After the scarecrows," he said.
Every year the town lined the main path with scarecrows stuffed by local businesses. The hardware store always won. This year their scarecrow wore a flannel shirt Dave recognized. It was his, gone from the line one morning back in September.
He stood in front of it a long time.
"What's wrong?" Amy said.
"Nothing. Let's go."
The scarecrow turned its head as they passed. Dave saw it in the corner of his eye and did not stop walking. He did not tell Amy. He just pulled her a little faster toward the maze, where the tall corn swallowed the sound of the crowd.
"Dad," Amy said, "the maze is supposed to be closed."
The gate was open anyway.
Somebody had left a lantern on the ground just inside. Dave picked it up. The handle was warm, like somebody had been holding it a second ago. He looked back at the path. The scarecrow was already gone.
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