Supernatural – Scarecrow

That Argument in Indiana
by
Sylvia Bond
Supernatural Episode Review, Season 1 – Episode 11
“Scarecrow”

The first time I saw this episode, I was creeped out on account of it being about a scarecrow that comes to life and eats people. Or rather, it eats stupid couples on road trips who haven’t enough sense between the two of them to understand the rules about being in a horror show. One, never accept free food from tiny, overly cheerful communities. Two, if your break line goes out, it shouldn’t take till sunset to fix it, so be leery if anyone tells you otherwise. Three, if your car breaks down just after it was fixed, and you find yourself stalled outside a spooky apple orchard, for goodness sake, DON’T get out of your car to hike to the nearest farmhouse to make a phone call. Sheesh. Unfortunately, the couple in the opening teaser of this ep choose to disregard any and all safety measures for road trips, and are eaten. Or rather, they are snatched up and sacrificed to a pagan god (who animates a scarecrow dressed in human skin), who, in return for said sacrifice, keeps the town and its residents safe and sound.

The sacrifice happens every April, and it takes John (The Dad) Winchester to scan the obits from newspapers for completely unrelated cities and figure it out. He then calls his boys, and the plot picks up steam. The boys are to go to Burkitsville, Indiana, to check it out, and this they set out to do, except along the way, the plot is waylaid by the real story, which fans have referred to as The Argument in Indiana.But first, let’s talk about two incendiary scenes that occur in this ep right after the teaser. First, we get a bird’s eye view of the boys (you know, Sam and Dean) sleeping. This makes me rub my hands with glee and cackle in anticipation. For starters, Dean is sleeping shirtless. Am I shallow to focus on this right away, to the exclusion of all else? Well, if I am, then every other fangirl is too. He is shirtless, I tell you, his muscled arm curved on top of the blankets, and my mind blanks out at this point, and then the phone rings. Dear Sam. He doesn’t want to get the phone (I think it’s Dean’s phone), so he’s muttering to Dean, and then gets the phone anyway, answering it with a lovely burr in his morning voice.

But wait! Who is calling? It’s The Dad! Oh, my, here comes the second cool scene. Now, it’s a very short bit where The Dad appears, talking on the phone to Sammy, but it’s ever so much fun for several reasons. There’s The Dad (who reeks of testosterone), on the phone, in some phone booth miles away from his boys, with his morning beard, and the masculine lines to his face offset by those long, long lashes of his as they brush against his cheeks. His voice is smoky, as always (I would love to have this man sing me to sleep with a lullaby), and his mouth is slightly chapped, as if he’s been driving all night, drinking coffee and eating bad food heated up at a mini-mart. Nevertheless, he is lovely, and his request (okay, it’s an order more than a request) is clear: write down these names, go to Burkitsville, and check it out.

Naturally, Sammy has questions, like, why, why, why, and where are you, and are you okay? He’s not going to follow orders blindly (cause he never does), and he wants to know what’s going on, and the conversation between him and The Dad becomes heated enough so that one more spark might set off a full-blow fight. Fights between Sam and The Dad are canon, and you can easily imagine these two butting heads like rams in springtime. You can see it in this argument as well, as Sam gets this mulish expression on his face, and The Dad’s voice on the other end of the line gets sharp enough to slice through the phone. Fans sometimes ask the question, who is more like The Dad, Sam or Dean? I think it’s a tossup, depending upon the circumstances, but in this scene, Sam wins, hands down. He’s just like his father, angry, stubborn, dark hair swirling.

Dean sits up in bed at this point, and, after a lovely flash of chest and shoulder, unfortunately puts on his shirt. (He’s got a stunning body, he really does. Seems a shame to cover it up all the time, you know?) The second he finds out it’s The Dad, he wants the phone. He reaches for it, snaps his fingers, and says it, “Give me the phone, give me the phone, give me the phone.” He’s irritated, but when he gets the phone, his expression changes. He shifts right into obedient solider mode, the good son, writing down the names like The Dad wants him too, and saying “Yes, sir,” in that evocative way he has. And all the while, Sam, still mulish, frowns at the world in general. You can see it coming, can’t you? Yeah. The Argument approacheth, the argument that this episode is really about.

[nms:CW Supernatural,2,0]

This is what happens. The boys are in the car; Sam is driving. This tips me off right away that something dark is going to go down, because something bad or upsetting usually happens when Sam drives, you see. Dean is waxing poetic about the Amazing Job that The Dad did connecting the dots with all the missing couples, and he is Thrilled to be following up the way The Dad wants them to. On the other hand, Sammy is not so jiggy with it, and he wants, instead, to go to California and look for The Dad because it’s been ages since they talked to him and he feels that looking out for family is more important than saving stupid strangers.

I love the argument they have. It’s a real, character-driven argument that began long ago, before they even started filming the pilot. Sam has his own ideas about what is a priority and what is not. Moreover, he maintains these ideas in the face of being informed that he’s wrong, that he should do as he’s told, and that he’s the youngest son who doesn’t, and couldn’t possibly, know his own mind. It’s easy to admire someone who can bring that car to a shrieking halt, get out, and start packing his stuff with, really, a modicum of drama, in the middle of the night. Dean gets out too, scowling, cursing under his breath, and in the rain, listens to his brother calmly state what he’s going to do.

This is where the brothers’ personalities diverge. Sam is going after The Dad; Dean is going to do what The Dad told them to do. Dean’s also going to leave Sam’s ass on the highway, in the middle of the night (and heck, Sam can take care of himself), and Sam doesn’t care. Maybe it’s a guy thing, but I don’t think I could do what either of them are doing. Going their separate ways. In anger. In the rain. The Winchester boys, however, are bold and made of stronger stuff.

And it’s amazing to me how spare the boys’ lives are. Sam gets out of the Impala and packs his bags in under two minutes. He’s got what looks like a backpack, a kind of duffle bag with handles, and something to carry his laptop. Three bags is all he has for all of his stuff. Can you imagine a life that can be packed in two minutes and carried who knows how many miles to the nearest bus stop? Heck, even 10 years ago (before I became a mortgage paying adult) I had a lot of stuff. It would take me a week to pack it all up, and about three years to unpack it once I’d moved. But Sam? He’s up and going, probably only owns a single pair of shoes and those are on his feet. But stuff is just stuff, right?

As for Dean, he could give a rip about how much stuff Sam is or isn’t toting. More on his mind, more even than how much more room he’ll now have in the Impala, is the fact that Sam is leaving him. AGAIN. The last time Sam left Dean was when Sam went to Stanford. Without Dean. And whether canon will one day let us know whether or not Dean and The Dad knew about Stanford until the day Sam left doesn’t matter as much as the fact that he did leave. He left the family, he left the Winchester world, he left Dean. And for Dean, this must have been devastatingly bad, much worse than it would have been for you or I to hear a younger sibling was going off to college. In a world where anything from a school transcript to a Homeland Security badge can be faked, where the only thing you can count on is the warm body sitting next to you, loosing his brother like that must have hit hard. So, having Sam leave him yet again, over an argument has no solution (since The Dad’s been AWOL for ages and wants to stay that way), must have just crushed him.

Fans still debate two things. First, who did Sam tell first that he was going away? And second, who was Sam more nervous about telling this to? I mean, if you were Sam, would you tell The Dad and let Dean hear about it during the fallout? Or would you tell Dean, and have to hear about it till you ‘fessed up to The Dad? Either way, I’m sure Sam felt like, in addition to the anger and righteous indignation on his own behalf, that he would be letting the side down, however much he hated being a hunter. Certainly the whole “Sam left to go to Standford” issue comes up more than once during the series, having left scars on all concerned, and creating a long-standing rift between the brothers. A rift that The Argument brings into sharp focus.

Because for Dean “saving people, hunting things” (and following The Dad’s orders) is all. Sam demands, in essence, what’s wrong with you? To which Dean replies, “I’m being a good son.” He may as well have said, “I’m being a good solider,” but you have to wonder about a grown man who still feels that he needs to do exactly what his dad tells him to do in order to be considered a good son. Sam on the other hand takes the tact of “My dad will love me or not love me, as he chooses, but I’m going to live my own life.” The question that fans ask each other is how, considering that Dean practically raised Sam on his own, did Sam develop this independent streak? Lovely, and messy, and complicated, The Argument reverberates through subsequent episodes, because any time the issue (whether or not the brothers would each go their own way) comes up, it is Dean who insists that he can’t live without Sam, and Sam who indicates (in one way or another) that he’s not going anywhere. It seems to me that any issue that keeps needing to be confirmed like this means that it’s unresolved. Although, somewhere along the way, Sam makes the decision to really hear what Dean needs, that he wants Sam to stick around, and so that’s what Sam’s going to do. Except, of course, in this ep.

It’s interesting to think that of the Winchester trio, Sam is considered the black sheep. Winchester men kill what they think needs killing, they destroy what needs to be destroyed, they scam credit card companies out of thousands of dollars, forge documents, live off the grid hand to mouth, and, worst of all, they don’t pay taxes! (At least I don’t think they do.) Yet Sam, who wants to go to college and live the American dream, is essentially the odd man out, or as Dean once put it, is like “The blonde chick on the Munsters.” Poor Sam. Yet at the same time, I get the feeling that Dean thinks that his status as good son is precarious at best and that one slip will make The Dad give him the old heave ho. Which son would you rather be?

Besides the marvelous phone conversation between The Dad and his boys, there is one between Sammy and his brother. After a number of almost-but-not-quite-dialing-my-brother’s-cell-number scenes (nicely angsty and almost romantic), one of them calls the other, I don’t know who, I think it must be Dean who called Sam, and they are discussing the situation at hand (still working together, although miles apart), that there is a pagan god taking ritual sacrifices, and Dean wants to know how to take it down. Sam is sweet, offering up his help (any time Dean needs it), and the conversation establishes one of Sam’s many nicknames, this one being “geekboy.”

Also, during this conversation, Dean starts to say something, and then stalls out, to which Sam replies, “I’m sorry, too.” Oh, boys. It’s amazing the number of conversations you have with each other without hardly saying a word. Then Dean tells Sam to go live his own life, that he’s proud of him, and all of this is issued through Dean’s marvelous, raspberry-flavored lips. (And I love raspberries, I’ll have you know.) Dean, in essence, lets Sam go. What a thing to do for a brother, and what it must have cost Dean. Again. (Needless to say, Sam comes back.)

This episode also introduces a short-lived but brilliant character by the name of Meg. (Look away if you don’t want to be spoiled.) Meg comes on to Sam like a very quiet mouse, and when he encounters her on the road (both are hitchhiking), he has no idea that every move she makes is planned way in advance. Her friendship seems natural, and her concern for Sam’s well-being, as well as her understanding of his desire for independence, seems charming and sweet.

Even after Meg accepts a ride from shady van guy and leaves Sam by the side of the road, even after Meg and Sam happen to meet up at the bus station, you don’t suspect her of being anything or anyone other than who she seems to be. It’s only when Sam becomes worried because he can’t get Dean on his cell phone that her interest in Sam takes on a sharper note. She’s possessed by a demon you see, but it’s only upon repeated viewings of this ep that you can catch the subtle shift of her friendship with him, when her expression takes on a darker hue, and you become worried because you see that Sam hasn’t a clue.

In spite of Meg’s protests, Sam makes his way back to Burkitsville, just in time to save Dean. Oh, yeah, there’s been a plot going on this whole time, and Dean can’t seem to charm the locals enough to get to the bottom of things. Dean on his own is an interesting sight. He’s the first to admit that he would be doing better were Sam there. When he comes up against the couple in the little diner, he makes a joke at how much better Sammy (with his puppy dog eyes) would have handled it. Within minutes, he’s bungled the interaction completely, and is escorted out of town.

Without Sam at his side, all sorts of uncomfortable things happen to Dean, and not that he wouldn’t have been whumped around anyway, but without Sam to share the whumpage with, Dean comes across as more vulnerable, more at risk, than I’m used to seeing him. He does manage to rescue this year’s sacrificial couple, but that’s his one success, because when he tries to do his own research, he gets smacked in the face with a rifle butt. And then he gets tied up, which is always fun, and now it’s him who gets to be the sacrifice, along with the nice niece of some of the town’s citizens.

Sam comes to the rescue, of course. He unties Dean, they fend off an attack from the scarecrow monster, and then set the evil first tree on fire, thus ending the reign of the perfect, cheerful village that sacrificed young couples each year. The episode ends with Dean offering to drop Sam off wherever it is he wants to go, and wouldn’t you know it? Sam refuses said offer. He’s going to stay with Dean. Forever, which is just as it should be. Which is followed by the beautifully fun and sarcastic “hug me, Sam,” statement that Dean makes in an effort to stave off yet another chick-flick moment. In spite of this, however, I get the feeling. I get the feeling that the reason Sam came back was because Dean LET him go. And I get the feeling that Dean, for all he would not admit it, is overcome and overwhelmed (and unbelievably grateful) by the fact that Sam has come back to him. Because, for all his James Deanish posturing, and his “I don’t need nothin’ from nobody” stance, he does not want to and, frankly, cannot do without Sam. As for me, I prefer them together as well. It’s happier that way.

Sylvia Bond is a ten-year technical writing veteran with too many degrees under her belt to count. She lives in Colorado, but does not ski, preferring instead to spend her money and time at the annual Great American Beer Festival, taking road trips across the United States, and reading historical fiction from the comfort of her fluffy green arm chair. She has been involved in fandom since 1993 and been writing fanfic since approximately 1993. What she finds most amazing about fandom (besides the open heartedness of fans and the sheer amount of creativity) is how visible fandom has become. “In my day,” she says, “we had to hide behind P.O. boxes to get fanfic. But nowadays, people wear t-shirts that shout their affiliation and share their shiny toys on the internet.” It’s a wonderful world.

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