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Nocturnal

A Visitor in the Night

By Kendall Defoe Published 2 years ago Updated about a year ago 6 min read
Nocturnal
Photo by Des Récits on Unsplash

“You gotta listen to your dad. No is a no.”

That was his mother, but he was not really listening anymore. When he heard the old man snoring next to his mother in the next room, he knew that his time had come. There was a space between his bedroom window and the abandoned field that he could cross in about two minutes (ledge, barrel, grass) and then there would be time to make it out to the building.

It was his building. Well, not really his. His parents owned the property and kept it all fenced in and well-tended…up to the edge of the forest. That was where the old barn was allowed to fall apart, leaning heavily on the beams that would groan and whine in the wind. In the winter, he would look at it and wonder if this would be the year it would finally collapse, or maybe his father, determined to develop the property, would finally raze it.

“No is a no.”

He did have any more tears left. That was all done by the time he brushed his teeth and thought about what he was going to do. The summer was about to begin and his friends would be on their own properties, or far away on their vacations and road trips; very far away from here.

Very far away…

He had a large backpack that he could stuff with some basics he needed to travel. A can opener would be the most important thing when he decided to hike out and get away from this place. At thirteen, there was enough talk to say that he was a real man, “with real responsibilities”. That was why he kept getting in trouble with the teachers, coach in the gym, bus drivers and even the people at the store who would not give him a job. When it came back to his father, there was a very real shock at the slap. Not much talking too place that day (strange for his father). And then there was his mother’s concern. Which one was actually worse?

Well, they would miss him, right?

Yup. He was outta here.

*

The plan was to cross over, stop at the barn for a minute and then look carefully at the compass to choose a path. That was the plan; the reality was different. There was every reason for him to just stay out there and take in the dark, the dim lights of the street lamps, and the sweet summer quiet.

He loved the night.

Did they know this? He often stayed up late on weekends, arguing with his parents that if he really were a man, this should not be a problem (check), and he was doing well in school (checkmate). His father, who was rarely home except to sleep at nights, did not really care much about this. The kid was doing well with things; let him watch some scary movies or whatever. The whatever is what bothered his mother. The last set of movies on their DVR was not really the most age-appropriate, but that was a mistake he should have erased before his parents found out. Well, they were going to find out a lot when he was gone.

Gone? He was still not sure about this. It was just after midnight and the lights from the road could not keep the stars from dazzling him overhead (he had his astronomy book with him and the binoculars he got for his last birthday). And there was no one about. As he moved across the lawn and passed over the fence, he judged the weight of the backpack on him and considered the number of cans of food he took for this. Four seemed to be enough for a few days. He also had some money from that birthday and knew that he could get a bus ticket for about half of what was in the envelope.

Yeah, this would work.

But first, he wanted to stop in the old barn.

The smells and sounds of the place were still a comfort, even if he only had the light from a small flashlight (no batteries needed, either; smart to get one like this, he thought). He passed the beam over the dark corners, watching and listening for the sounds of mice or other animals in the dark. No fear was on his mind. There was a space he had set up for his things when he hung out in that hay-filled space and he sat down.

Any of my friends out?

Maybe the mice were a little shy tonight, but he did not hear much scurrying or movements in the warm summer night. And he allowed himself a moment to pause, rest and close his eyes.

This was a mistake.

Like one of the most unbelievable scenes in those terrible monster movies he enjoyed, something flew very fast and close to his head. With a touch of air and muscle, he almost felt it as he kept his eyes closed for just a moment. Screaming would come if he opened them too soon. So, he paused. And he slowly looked through the gloom.

It was an owl; a beautiful animal up in the higher beams that somehow slipped through the upper part of the roof and found it as a new home.

It stared down hard at him, expanding its wings to stretch, test its strength, and perhaps…terrify him.

It was prepared to swoop.

For the rest of his life, this moment would be fresh in his dreams and certain nightmares. He simply could not move away. The beauty and terror of that animal in that dark space was impossible to escape from as he stared right back at its flat and mute face. What was it going to do?

It was going to fly.

With a swift motion, it dropped to the floor of the barn and found its prey.

And he would be forever grateful that owls did not consider little boys out way after their bedtimes to be a nice snack.

The sound of mouse that was now caught in its talons buzzed and danced in his head. And it was a big one, he thought. It was not a simple little guy out for the evening. It was a fat and nasty rodent that was most disturbed at being taken. And then it was silent.

Was that bird staring him down? It had returned to the exact same spot as before, tearing into the soft grey flesh of the mouse and occasionally looking him up and down.

Was this a challenge?

Was this a good time to leave?

His bladder made his mind up for him.

*

He ran out of the barn, looking back to see if there any other predators or curious nocturnal beasts after him. The owl was busy with his meal; the mice were now aware that they had a bigger problem than any human who wanted to fumigate or knock down their home. And he had to change his clothes.

It was a beautiful night, and he would look carefully at the food pantry and his hamper before going to bed. Maybe he would stick around for the summer. Maybe even a little longer.

Dark was all around him and he felt that he was home.

*

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Kendall Defoe

Teacher, reader, writer, dreamer... I am a college instructor who cannot stop letting his thoughts end up on the page.

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