The Old Barn

“We are going to get in so much trouble”, my brother scolds me as I climb through the barbed wire fence. I am in no mood to listen.

“I don’t want to walk a mile around the pasture to get to the mailbox”, I retort. “Let’s just cut across so we can finish up faster.”

“You know dad said not to cut across. To always go around.”

I stop short of stepping in a steaming cow patty and turn to look at him. “Well, dad’s not here, is he? How is he going to know?”

I set off at a fast clip not waiting to see if Jeff or Steve are following. I can’t believe I’m picking a fight with Jeff. He’s always the leader.

The pasture is a lush green with Black-eyed Susans casting bright splotches of color amongst the dark cow patties scattered hither and yon. A creek runs diagonally about halfway across the pasture. The mailbox is at the far end where the county road meets with Farm Road 96. I love being out here. My grandad takes us on walks, and we pick blackberries, persimmons, and pomegranates. He shows us what we can’t eat and even saved me from skunk spray. I don’t know anywhere else I can randomly pick food when I’m out playing. I think about stopping at a thick grouping of blackberry bushes. I know mom said come straight home, but maybe we’ve saved enough time by cutting across instead of going around. We can stop off and get our fill of the plump and juicy berries. This summer of 1969 is the last summer we will spend here for an exceptionally long time. I don’t want to waste time checking the mail.

Jeff catches up to me quickly and Steve trails behind a few steps.

“What is your problem? You know we aren’t supposed to be taking shortcuts across Elmer’s pasture.”

“What’s it going to hurt? I want to get home and go rock hunting. I don’t want to check the stupid mail. Why do we have to do this anyway?”

I turn around to look for Steve. He is running frantically towards us. I glance over his shoulder and my eyes widen. The sight terrifies me. Cows, running straight for us. Huge cows. All the cows in the pasture. They are headed straight for us. Running.

My heart is thundering in my chest as fear sweeps through my body. I’m too young to die. I’m only 9. (Well, about to be 10, but who is counting?)

Jeff jolts me out of my frozen terror as Steve runs past. “Run”, he screams.

We both jump into action, tilting headlong toward the creek. My legs feel leaden with terror. My body, intent on survival, is pumping with adrenaline. I see Steve and Jeff take a running leap across the creek not slowing down as they race toward the far side of the fence line. I take that same leap and slip on the muddy bank. Scrambling to my feet, I run to catch them. We don’t slow down until we reach the fence. And then, only long enough to slip through the barbed wire.

I don’t say anything as we silently stare at the cows peacefully drinking from the creek and lying in the shade of trees bordering its edge. The quiet, peaceful looking cows do not look like the manic herd that was storming towards us just a few minutes before.

“I’m not walking across the pasture again. We need to find another way home. I don’t want to walk the county road.” I am stubborn that way.

Jeff pulled open the mailbox and like yesterday, we don’t have a letter.

“Let’s walk home by the old barn”, Steve pointed to the left.

There is an overgrown dirt road that runs perpendicular to FM 96 and intersects the road leading to my grandparent’s house. The road was fenced off a few years back when the county road was built. We’ll have to climb through more barbed wire fences, but we will be away from the cows. We set out on the yellow line indicating a no passing lane and begin to chant our favorite tune from the Wizard of Oz.

Follow the yellow brick road

Follow the yellow brick road

Follow, follow, follow, follow

Follow the yellow brick road

We step off the highway into the yard that leads by the old barn. Heading towards the fence line , Steve spots Elmer on his tractor. Now, Elmer has a reputation of being mean. Grandad told us stories that made us think he would switch us good if he saw us. We duck out of sight and sneak into the barn.

Dim light filters through cracks in the boards and bits of dust float lazily in the air. Directly across from the barn door is a ladder. It appears to be a good place to hide. Steve is already halfway up swinging from step to step as agile as a monkey. Jeff and I climb to the top and step onto a platform that is covered with bales of hay. What a perfect place to hide. We stretch out on top of the hay and peer down at the barn door.

“What do you think will happen if Elmer sees us?” I whisper so that no one can hear us outside.

Steve scrunches behind Jeff and I to get a better look at the door. “He’ll probably switch us within an inch of our life. Even harder than mema did when she found us playing in the pond.”

“I sure wish grandaddy was here. We’re stuck until Elmer goes inside. Mom’s going to wonder where we are. Maybe we should see if there is a back way out of here.”

Jeff is always trying to come up with a solution before a problem even starts. He scoots across the hay until he reaches the far side of the loft. I hear a soft meow as he leans over a tall stack of hay.

“Hey, guys, come over here and look.”

I scooch and squirm my way across the hay until I reach the tall stack. I look down and straight into adorable kitten eyes. It’s the cutest little tabby kitten with white fur around his mouth. He looks like he just dipped his face in a bucket of milk.

“I think I’ll call him Milk Face,” I say excitedly forgetting to keep my voice down. I crawl into the narrow opening where Milk Face is watching me with curious eyes.

“Hey, what are you kids doing in my barn? Get down from there.” The voice is loud and angry sounding.

“You kids need to get on down here now.”

Jeff looks at me with big eyes. “I’m not going down there. I’m not getting switched.”

I hold Milk Face close and nuzzle his face. “It’s okay we didn’t get a stupid letter and I don’t care about the man yelling at us. I’m keeping him.” I hold Milk Face up for Jeff to admire.

“Elmer, what is all of this ruckus? What are you yelling for?” A tiny woman came walking around the corner of the barn.

“Dagnabbit. There’s a passel of kids running around the hayloft. I’ve a good mind to switch them.” Elmer blustered.

“You’ll do no such thing. Why, those are Jeanette’s kids. Why don’t y’all come on down here and come inside with me.”

I stuff Milk Face in my shirt to free up one hand as we all climb warily down the ladder. Elmer is quiet. He still looks mad.

“Come on in the house. I just baked cookies this morning. I’ll call Jeanette and let her know you are here. We can have a nice little visit.”

I pull Milk Face out of my shirt and hold him close.

“Can I have him,” I ask the kind woman.

“Well, honey, we’ll just have to be sure it is okay with your mama.”

We sit at the kitchen table with cookies and a glass of milk. All of the things that I worried about today didn’t seem such a big deal anymore. So, what if a letter didn’t come. Daddy would be home soon. And, I found a new best friend in an old barn.