**Disclaimer: Parts of this tale may be greatly exaggerated.
It’s 2 o’clock in the morning. I’m sitting on my couch, eating Doritos, and watching Looney Tunes. My left eye is closed because I’m tired and would like to sleep, but my right eye is open because I really want to eat Doritos and watch Looney Tunes. I’m a woman without a country here.
I should just go to bed, but I had an interesting day, and I would like to write about it before I forget, although I doubt, I’ll ever forget. I’ve had a rough go of it lately; I hit myself in the head (hard) with a drill back in June, resulting in a head injury that came very close to killing me. Up until then, the MDD was under control, it had been under control for years, but that knock on the head brought it back.
I’m hopeful it won’t last long, but the panic attacks are the worst I’ve ever had, and the doctor is trying different medications to take me back to where I was, which was happy. I will be happy again. In the meantime, I’m going to do what I can to distract myself, just like I used to do. So how do I do that? With hobbies like reading, writing, and carpentry. This is where I segue into my story.
I was headed to Springfield this morning. I woke up early, unable to sleep, and got around pretty quickly because it was Saturday. I have today and tomorrow off, and that’s a lot of time to fill. I’m feeling very lonely now, and I need to make absolutely certain I don’t slide downhill too far. What does that mean? Oh yeah, baby, I’m headed to Springfield!
Why Springfield? I have a hobby. So, why Springfield? Because my hobby is carpentry. I’m a carpenter, like Jesus, so don’t judge me. Okay, so why Springfield? Because carpentry uses wood, and I don’t have any at home. Right, so why Springfield? There’s an abandoned barn in Springfield, I will get wood from there.
The drive was nice; I felt better just knowing that I would have something to do soon; that little piece of mind really meant a lot, and I could feel my spirits lifting. The old barn is on Buzzle Road, and I haven’t been to it in years. My Dad and I used to get apples from the orchard there, during hunting season, so I’m familiar with the area. Imagine my surprise when I pulled up to that drive, and the orchard was grown over with four-foot-high snake grass. Gross. The bushes and foliage had grown up so high around the barn that I wasn’t sure it was still there. Now, mind you, I haven’t had an adventure since the great bucket raft trip of 2012, so this was surely going to happen today.
Let’s face it, I’m not one to back down from a challenge, and my mind was made up, so I was ready to rock this thing. I backed my car into the drive, which could now only contain the length of my car; that was another surprise, as I recalled how my dad’s truck used to drive so easily through the valley by the barn. I got my trusty hammer, and trying not to think too much about snakes, I headed toward where the barn once stood.
There was a very large, felled tree about 20 yards into my expedition, so I needed to choose: go left or right? I always pick right because I’m right-handed, and it just feels natural. The rationale behind this is that, were something like, say, I don’t know, a chupacabra was to jump out and attack, I could deflect the attack with my left arm and swing my trusty hammer with the right. It’s called ‘situational awareness’; I’m kind of like Rambo that way.
Going toward the right side of the barn, I realized I had made a mistake in judgment; I was greeted by a small, rocky ledge that dropped about eight feet. The good news is that the barn was in sight, so it still exists. The bad news is that I had just traversed for what seemed like the length of seven football fields through a mystery swamp that must surely have been filled with snakes and alligators, and I had to turn around and go back.
This time, I took a left. This path was much clearer than the first, with the four-foot-high snake grass thinning out to a clearing; it was filled with stones, dead tree limbs, and what I’m pretty sure was a cat skull. It may have been a raccoon, but it’s too late to tell.
The clearing tapered down with an incline that was so sharp I wondered at the success of my mission. I can make it to the barn, and pulling off the planks would be no trouble, but getting them back to my car was a bit of a conundrum at this point. But like I said, my mind was made up, and this was going to happen. I headed down the steep incline, stumbling over the stones that lay at the bottom and climbed up the other side.
This is when I felt that I was being watched. I looked back toward the direction of my car and realized I was so far into the underbrush that I couldn’t even see the sky. I was surrounded by this canopy of bright green, which was cool but also kind of eerie when I thought about the fact that I was completely alone and nobody knew where I was.
I took in the 360-degree view of my situation, still feeling that someone was watching. They may have been watching from inside the barn or possibly hiding in the underbrush, but I’m no quitter, so I went on ahead. It was probably just my vivid imagination playing with me anyway.
I walked past the barn initially, more out of curiosity than necessity, and I can honestly say I’m glad I did. What I found behind the barn was an opening that led to a field and the foundation for several outbuildings, one of which had to have been the original homestead. Most might find that boring, but I love history, and I enjoy picturing how things must have been and what they could have become.
Daydreaming aside, I remembered that I was here for a reason, and it was time to do it before someone became suspicious of my car and called the police. I walked back toward the barn, which looked to be a death trap, but all that meant was that I’d be more careful. This end of the barn had about a three-foot ledge that you had to step up to, thank God for long legs. The steps had rotted away long ago, but I knew this was still my best bet because I had seen the other end of the barn from my rocky ledge before, and it was at least six feet up into it. I was exactly where I needed to be to pull this off.
Into the abyss I went, testing the boards with my feet to make sure I wouldn’t fall through. Standing just inside the doorway, I again took in the view, not just from the desire to not die a horrible death in this old barn, but from my natural love for detail. To my left, I saw the remains of what a stairway to a loft had once been that no longer existed, and to my right, I saw the remains of what appeared to be a family of squirrels. There are lots of dead animals in these parts.
Along the right side of the barn were three small stalls, probably for goats, as I can’t think of what else may have fit in there. Across from the third stall was a slightly larger stall, and in my imagination, I could see how this barn had looked when it was part of an active farm. They must have used two of the stalls for milking/breeding female goats, one for a male and the fourth for the kid goats that would be later sold at auction or used to feed the farmer’s family.
The remains of the small stairwell on the left led to the loft, where the hay and equipment were probably stored. Looking through gaps in the floor, where planks had rotted away, I could see larger stalls at the ground level, which would have contained the horses that plowed the field out back. There were still hooks on the walls where the rigging had hung. These were all memories of the forgotten homestead of a family whose lineage may have already ended, as I know this barn was abandoned well before my dad was born. I took a moment to respect what all this must have meant at some point in time.
And with that depressing thought, I walked down the barn aisle gingerly, making sure to only set foot on floor joists and the support beam that ran the length of the building. I was just past the second stall when I heard a strange sound that I felt sure must have been my imagination. But there it was again…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….my adrenaline started pumping.
…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….” what animal makes that sound?” I wondered to myself as I stood perfectly still in the center of that aisle. “And more important, was it behind me, or in front of me?”…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….” Seriously. In front or behind? I can’t get a bearing on it, and this is information that I need right now.” I didn’t want to risk turning back, and I was already half-way through the barn, so I made the fateful decision to push forward.
I was stepping carefully along, listening for any sounds; the rustling of leaves, the debris from outside or inside the barn being skittered along by whatever animal was watching me…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….” That was close.”….” it’s probably an anaconda, it’s probably wrapping itself around this entire barn right now, unhinging its jaw, waiting to make its move. Why did I watch that movie? Oh yeah, James told me if you’re afraid of something, then watch a movie about it. That didn’t work with ‘It’, I’m still afraid of clowns! Why did I watch a movie about a giant man-eating snake?! JAMES!! Why, James, why?!”…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….” okay, pull yourself together, you’ve got this under control. Don’t let it smell your fear.”
I took two more careful steps, and I couldn’t understand what happened next. With my second step, I saw movement ahead and to the right from the corner of my eye, and I could hear the shuffling as it moved along the barn floor. What I can’t understand is that I didn’t stop, and I didn’t run, I kept walking towards it. Two more steps…. (ssssssssss–chk-chk-chk) …. two more steps, still I walked toward it. I was one of those people in a scary movie who should just leave well enough alone. I will never again yell at a movie screen when I see someone approaching an unknown danger. I mean, really, who am I to judge at this point…. (ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) …. two more steps, and I could see its grey head, bobbing along behind the half-wall from the final stall as it walked toward the aisle that I was currently occupying. Two more steps…. (ssssssssss—chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk-chk) …. I was in full view of it, and it was in full view of me, and that’s when I realized that it wasn’t an ‘it’, it was a ‘them’.
I stood frozen for what seemed like… seconds, but what were probably milliseconds, and my mind took in everything, as it does. They were about thigh-high on me, so about 30 inches tall. Their beaks were blackish orange, their eyes were black, and their wings stuck out awkwardly at their sides. One was more aggressive than the other, but the other one wasn’t exactly what I would call shy at that moment.
I was instantly hit by two very real thoughts. 1-I was the first human these things had ever seen, and they did not seem impressed. 2-Their dark grey feathers looked downy and soft, which meant there were huge baby birds. These were huge…baby…birds. These baby birds were huge. Oh my gosh, were these baby birds huge! And mad. Only two birds that I know of could have babies this large. So, either these were bald eagles, or I discovered the last two remaining pterodactyls on the planet, and they just thawed out from some giant ice block that was belched from the bowels of the earth. Probably not the latter, so these were baby bald eagles, which means Mama and Daddy bald eagles are coming back.
While my mind whirred with these thoughts, I stepped slowly back, and they stepped slowly forward. I took three steps back, they took five steps forward, and so we danced…(ssssssssss-chk-chk-chk) ….” it’s time to go. I’m almost half-way to the door, but these little babies aren’t my problem, the parents are my problem.” My two steps back quickly turned to four, and still, they came forward. These may be babies, but they’re already territorial. Three steps back, almost to the door…I made my move.
Doing a backward-leaping about-face, I jumped from the barn, alarming the would-be killers, but knowing that I didn’t want my legacy to this world to be ‘woman’s skull and bones found in an abandoned barn, surrounded by fluffy grey feathers.’ My daring attempt at escape was not without its consequences, because it enraged the birds even more and they let out a frightfully shrill squawk that must have been heard in as faraway places as India, Zimbabwe or…I don’t know, the farm down the road. I hit the ground running, hearing the predators shuffling along behind me.
I was running like an Olympic track star, jumping over debris and vaulting downed tree limbs, forgetting completely about the rocky ravine I’d had to ascend to get here. The memory of it came screaming back rather quickly when I barrel-rolled down the slope and landed at the bottom of the said ravine…or gully if you will (definitely too small to be a gorge). I have never felt safer in my life than when I was lying bruised and broken at the bottom of that gulch, waiting for a family of giant birds to tear me apart limb from limb.
I scrambled up to the other side, mindful of the jagged rocks, as they weren’t mindful of me, and I was on a full sprint in the direction of the road. I was very much aware of the fact that I had at least parted company with the babies, as they didn’t follow me down into the chasm; they were too smart for that, so it was just me versus the parents, who I could picture in my ever-vivid imagination swooping down to lop off my head like a ripe melon.
By now, I was on the four-foot-high snake grass, which, although it seemed like something to be feared when I started this journey, now made the perfect camouflage. I would like to say I ran as gracefully as a deer back to my car, but we all know that’s a lie. I had bruised my ribs, twisted my ankles, and let’s face it, my hips will never be the same. I was running like a baby hippo with an inner ear infection. But I was running. I got to my car, threw my hammer on the seat, laughed hysterically for a long while, and drove away, never looking back.
**No scary bird monsters were harmed while making this memory.