Night #3
The Break In
I awoke to a throbbing pain in the back of my head. I rubbed my head filling a soft mushy part, “gross”! I pulled my hand away as I felt dried blood, “oh my god”! My mother’s eyes had widened at the sight of the dried blood. Her soft hand began to paw through my hair like a monkey would look for insects. “How did you do this,” “mom it’s nothing”. “Don’t tell me that it’s nothing, how did you do this”? Thinking of a lie was hard when you first wake up in the morning. “It’s nothing I just tripped,” “just tripped,” my mother snapped back at me. “Yeah just tripped that’s all,” “backwards”? Nodding, “yeah it’s like I said don’t worry”.
My mother insisted on cleaning the wound herself and by the time I was patched up my father had finished scolding the first of the movers that had just arrived. The rest of the trucks began to pull into the dirt driveway and began to unload. My father began to yell, “No I told you to come in a couple days”. One of the movers an overweight man with blue overalls gave a tired, “You know how long it took us to find you”? “I called your office,” yelled Jack’s father “I changed the delivery date. I told them to deliver this stuff in a couple days”. The guy shrugged “We never received that call,” Jack almost laughed as his father began to splutter, “but we don’t even have enough room for our stuff ”? The man began to wave at the second floor, “are you kidding what about your second floor”? “The stairs aren’t finished,” the man gave a confused, “whatever but we have to unload this and unload it now”. My father’s face was red and he stormed into the house he froze when he saw me. His face seemed to soften, “I heard you hurt your head, are you alright”? I nodded and with that nod my father’s face began to turn red, “can I ask you a question”? I felt my heart skip several beats “um . . . sure,” I said hesitant of the answer. “What did I tell you to do yesterday”? “Clean out the barn,” “Clean out the barn,” he repeated. “And you were out late last night right,” still unsure of this line of questioning. “Yeah dad,” “how long were you out there”? My mind began to examine the question, “um . . . all night pretty much”. I remembered the moon being high in the sky. The night air was fresh and had a cool mist in it, “all night”? ‘I . . . yea . . . why dad I went to bed late last night”? “And what exactly did you do in all that time”? “Why,” his father’s face wrinkled in anger but he somehow managed to suppress it. “Follow me,” he hissed as I followed him out the front door. The sun was warm in the horizon it seemed to provide the only bright spot in his current situation. Whatever my father was upset about it clearly was not going to be good.
He stopped in his tracks so suddenly that I almost crashed into him. He glowered down at me, “so you were out here all night right”? “Yeah just look at the . . .” my mouth fell open as I stared at the rotting barn. The roof was caved in the middle and looked the same as the day we arrived. “No,” I shook my head, “this . . . this . . .” my father was still glowering “what the hell were you doing out here all night”? I continued to shake my head stupidly, “no, no, no I moved all those boards . . . I spent all day,” my father yelled “doing nothing”! I was speechless as his face turned maroon “I told you that I needed help around this house and I didn’t want any excuses”! “Dad listen I spent all day and night moving those boards,” my father waved his arm in frustration, “I don’t want to hear it Jack, no more excuses”. “But dad,” my father waved his arm more violently “no but dad”!
I began to walk closer to the barn, this did not make sense but then again nothing really did anymore. I heard my father asking my mother to keep on eye on me to make sure the job would be done. My mother was not a fan of just sitting around especially when movers were cramming all of our stuff into the house. My mother conducted traffic and watched as I moved the stupid boards to the same spot I had dragged them previously. I knew I should have been thinking about how the boards actually returned to their original spots. I should have been thinking about the blisters that were growing larger on my hands and fingers. My hands throbbed with every grip they made with the heavy rotted board. They stung as I felt blisters grow to sizes to large until I felt them about to burst.
Luckily I was able to get a ten minute break while my mother began to yell at the movers. “Where the hell are we going to put this stuff,” one of the movers shrugged “I don’t know but we just deliver it”. “You guys are the worst movers hiring you was a big mistake,” the movers ignored her continuing to move their stuff into the house. “The inside of our house looks like a rat maze,” “what about the upper floor,” mentioned one of the movers moving in a large mattress. “Did you notice the stair frame missing stairs you . . .” the mattress slammed hard into the door as my mother finished her sentence with “blithering idiot”! I smiled as my mother continued to yell at the movers, I on the other hand was finally able to take it easy. Wiping my sweating brow under a burning sun, I finally took it easy for once. I was just sick of the constant moving of the wood that I wanted a break. My father better spend a lot of time in this stupid barn for all the work that I was putting into it.
After cleaning the barn for what seemed like the hundredth time, I walked into the house as the movers pulled out the driveway. I bet they couldn’t wait to get out of our house. My mother was screaming from the porch her fist shaking in the air. “And I don’t want to see any of you back here again,” I walked up the stairs and saw that she was fuming. I was hoping to just be able to slink by but she turned and saw me. “Can you believe it . . . claim they couldn’t find the place,” “well,” I said trying to hide a smile. “I mean we are out in the middle of nowhere,” “yeah but a day late and then to ignore our instructions”. I shook my head, “well they probably had another job to go to, what do you want them to do hold on to all the stuff until the stairs our built”? “Well my own son sticking up for the crooks,” “well you sometimes have to put yourself in other people’s shoes.”
My mother wasn’t listening she just watched the road as the mover’s vans faded in the distance and soon the rumbling of their engines faded. My mother didn’t speak to me again ignoring the uncomfortable silence I decided to go inside. “Holy shit,” I whispered as I stared at boxes and piles of our possessions scattered over every inch of the first floor. My father was sliding in pieces into the frame breathing hard, “it’s like a maze in here”. Making my way through the pathway I moved my way into the kitchen. The kitchen contained boxes but these boxes read: dishes, pots, pans, food, and other kitchen related items. A loud banging could be heard from somewhere inside the house. I walked over to the sink and decided to get myself a drink when the banging got louder. “Jack stop that banging,” I almost dropped the cup in surprise. “I’m not banging on anything,” I almost could feel my father freeze. “Where is your . . .” just as my father trailed off my mother walked in, “will you stop with the banging it’s giving me a headache”! I walked back into the kitchen as the banging had come to a stop, I ignored the oncoming argument as my father replied “I wasn’t banging,” “oh please you were banging on those stairs all day today”.
I trailed off as I stared out the small kitchen window that sat over the sink. The corn waved as I saw figure retreating into the forest. A greasy blond haired woman dressed in a muddy and tattered white outfit. She was swallowed up by the corn and was gone before I even recognized what had happened. I shook my head not really sure if I wanted to accept what I had just seen.
The hours passed with much labor either with the stairs or creating pathways through our over crowded first floor. My father and mother were meant to be together and when the moon was high my father said “Your mother is going to be mad tomorrow about this not being fixed”. I smiled at my dad whose face reminded me of a bright beat. Ignoring dinner I decided to go to bed early, the last couple nights I had not gotten much sleep. However tonight I knew that a coma was sure to come. I made my way through the maze of boxes to a small pile of blankets that I had been sleeping in due to the upstairs being inaccessible. And almost too good to be true but the moment I hit the pillow I was out.
My eyes shot open as I heard a soft creak of a floorboard. The moon was not as bright as before but still cast a small shadow as the quiet house seemed to be stirring. I laid there hoping to be able to fall back asleep quickly before something could distract me. But a small shadow ran across the ceiling, “no,” I whispered to myself. I shut my eyes trying to convince myself that it was nothing. I am just going to lay here and fall asleep. I am not getting up for anything. Curiosity makes fools of us all and against every judgment I rose slightly from my bed. I squinted my eyes open and saw a large black shadow moving wildly over the ceiling. My eyes opened wider, “it is nothing,” I heard myself say. Probably just a box or an article of clothing, yeah that had to be it. I began to close my eyes but they shot open again when a soft knocking could be heard.
This was not a dream, but the knocking continued I got up from my bed and listened to the quiet house. I felt the hairs stand on the back of my neck when I heard a soft mumbling, it was incoherent. “Who’s there” I asked. The mumbling stopped and the house was as quiet as ever. My voice was dry as I said “hello”? Crash!! I froze in my spot as I heard something shatter on the floor. I came running down the path. I saw a dark figure leap over the couch, the figure was feet in front of me, a mat of hair covered the face. I wasn’t sure if it was real or not, but when I heard my parents yell, “Jack . . . Jack”! I knew that I wasn’t dreaming.
The figure was already in the kitchen when I turned back to it. My parent’s distraction was ample time. This was not a “dream” figure that I had been seeing over the past couple nights this had to be a real person. I chased after the figure, who was pulling hard on the door knob. I was so close I could take him. My foot had caught something as I fell face forward. The door swung open as my hands grabbed for the intruder’s ankle. The intruder pulled from my grasp as a raspy voice yelled, “get off me kid”! The intruder’s ankle slipped through my fingers as I watched him bolt towards the endless stretch of corn that surrounded our house.
My mother came into the room as she said, “Jackie”? She bent over and began to examine me, “( James . . . call 911”! “Don’t worry,” my mother cooed as she began to pick me up, I had tripped over that lousy plastic garbage can. “Who was it Jack . . . did you get a good look at the intruder,” I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter,” she said honesty in every word. “Don’t worry the police will be here soon,” and my mother made sure we were all together as the police seemed to take their sweet time getting here. We waited on the porch until the red and blue lights broke the darkness over our “doll house”. My parents could not look more relieved to see them. My father rested his hand on my mother’s shoulder as she yelled “well it’s about friggin . . .” she stopped. My father smiled at her as two men exited the vehicle. One was a round fellow with a belly that stuck out like a sack of potatoes. He wore sliver sunglasses and chewed on toothpick. His cowboy hat was dirty and he smelled of cigarettes, he outstretched his hand, “good evening, you all called about the break in”? A shorter man came around the car resembling the rounder man. I took him to be the sheriff ’s son. A good old father and son activity, “as you might have guessed this is my son Deputy Jeffrey Withers and I am Sheriff Tom Withers”.
“Can you tell me what exactly happened,” “well I guess that would be up to Jack he saw everything”. My father patted my shoulder as my mother gave a soft, “he is our brave little guy”. The Sheriff chewed his toothpick as his unshaven face showed a faint interest, “Son check around the house and make sure that intruder isn’t still lurking around will ya”? “Sure thing pa,” his young face did not show a hint of age as his father seemed to have been taking the blunt of Old Man Time’s beatings. “What exactly did you see, Jack is it”? I nodded and told Sheriff Withers everything that had happened I ended with an “I think that she was looking for something”. Sherriff Withers was not remotely interested in what my beliefs of the situation were and my story did not seem to interest him either. “I think that we should have a talk Mr. and Mrs. Huntington, I am afraid we have been expecting something like this to happen”. “Expecting to happen,” my mother shouted but my father laid his hand on her shoulder again, “why would you be expecting this”? The sheriff grabbed his pants and pulled them as he said “I am afraid that she has escaped from the hospital”. My father gave a worried look to my mother but I had to ask to satisfy my own curiosity. “Who escaped from the hospital,” the sheriff looked puzzled by the question, “why Jessica Daniels”? “Who is Jessica Daniels,” I asked but my mother gripped my father’s hand, “go inside Jack”. “But mom,” “go inside Jack,” she repeated. I gazed at my father, who nodded “go inside”. “You know who broke into our house,” “go’ my mother yelled, “who is Jessica Daniels”? My father was now growing angry as he yelled, “Get inside Jack”! I stormed from the porch and made my way through the maze. So my parents knew the intruder, they had been keeping secrets from me and I needed to find the answers.
(To Be Continued)