Curiosity Killed the Kat

Twelve year old Katherine Moore drew patterns in the dirt while she patiently waited for the first responders to do their job. The scenery outside the barn was serene in comparison to the commotion in the house. The chill of the summer night air wrapped around her like a blanket that they give to victims on those crime shows her Momma would sometimes watch. Kat never imagined that she would ever be in a situation similar to those shows, yet here she was. She imagined getting interviewed by the police would be scarier, but it was more… draining than anything else. A voice interrupted her sea of thoughts.

“Hey Kitty Kat, how are you doing?” Kat looked up. The red and blue lights of the police cars illuminated Momma’s concerned expression. Her fingers dug into the dirt. She was fine. Really. Momma didn’t need to worry about her.

“‘M doing alright.” She mumbled out. Momma reached up to pluck a stray piece of hay from Kat’s sandy brown hair. She let go of the dirt in her hand.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She asked. Kat blinked. What was there to talk about?

Everyone knew that Grandpa William was knocking on death’s door. The pneumonia seemed like the common cold at first, mild but annoying, but then one week turned into two turned into three. Doctors were brought in, and then the family when it became clear that Grandpa would not be recovering.

Momma said that Grandpa had bad lungs for as long as she could remember. They got damaged during a fire when he was a boy, but the pneumonia wrecked what was left. Every member of the Moore family can testify to having their sleep interrupted by the sounds of violent hacking. Kat was the first one to notice the silence.

In the dead of night, she crept from her spot on the living room sofa to the stairs. Each step creaked as she gripped onto the rickety railing. She approached Grandpa’s room and turned the tarnished brass doorknob. Through Grandpa’s window, she saw the old barn with its gaping mouth hungry for something. Kat cautiously approached the bed and-

“Not really. Grandpa died. It was only a matter of time before one of us found him.” Kat said after a moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the first responders rolling out a sheet covered gurney down the porch stairs. Something unpleasant rolled in her stomach.

A hurt look settled into Momma’s eyes. Kat dropped her gaze down to her dirt covered hands, ashamed. She had said the wrong thing, and she needed to fix it somehow. She opened her mouth to speak. Momma shushed her.

“No, it’s alright sweetheart. You don’t have to say anything right now if you don’t want to.”

Kat nodded and brushed the dirt off on her frayed jeans. Momma continued to speak.

“I need to go out and take care of some business. The Joneses will be over in a few minutes to watch you and your cousins.”

Kat nodded. Momma stood up and walked over to her car. The engine shuddered with effort then took Momma away. Once her car was out of sight, Kat turned to the old barn.

Momma never really spoke about her childhood, but Kat knew about the old barn. All the Moore children know about the old barn. The Moore children know that no one has stepped foot inside of it since the fire when Grandpa was a young boy. The Moore children know that Grandpa found the charred body of an unknown child in the barn. The Moore children know that Grandpa was never the same after that experience.

Momma and her siblings said that some nights you could still hear the wood burning and smell the smoke curling through the air. None of them were allowed anywhere near the barn. Any curiosity was quickly stamped out with Grandpa’s belt. With no chance for answers, Momma and her siblings started swapping theories on why the old barn scared Grandpa so much. Somewhere along the line, they suspected that Grandpa knew more about the fire than what he told.

With Grandpa dead and Momma gone, now was the perfect time to see if there was any truth to the old tales.

The barn’s shadow loomed over her. Black soot covered what used to be vibrant red paint. Moonlight pierced through the hole in the roof. Years of neglect had worn away at what the fire didn’t tarnish first. The whole structure looked as if it was one strong gust from collapsing. Kat knew that she had to tread carefully. Shoving down any lingering fears, she stepped inside the barn.

A thundering thud caused Kat to jump. Casting a look over her shoulder, she saw that the heavy barn doors had somehow swung shut. Kat used the little moonlight filtering through the barn roof to navigate, but it was next to no use. She paused. She looked up. She stared at the moonlight filtering through the fully intact roof.

Before she could start to really wonder how the roof magically repaired itself, a shuffling noise drew her attention. Instantly on guard, she wildly looked around for the source of the noise, but she struggled to hear over the sound of her growing heartbeat.

“Who’s there?” She called out.

Wood creaked and groaned under footsteps.

“I should be asking you that.” A male voice called out. Kat flinched then turned towards the voice. He sounded young, maybe even close to her age. She heard the unmistakable sound of a match being struck against a matchbox. A lantern flickered to life and revealed the source of the mysterious voice.

Kat was right. The boy appeared to be the same age as her, give or take a year. He had sandy brown curls and dirt smudged on his face. He was also looking at her with a fearsome expression.

“What are you doing trespassing on my family’s farm?” The mystery boy asked, eyes narrowed. Obvious aggression aside, Kat paused at his words.

“Your family’s farm? This is my family’s farm.” Kat retorted. Confusion flickered over the boy’s face then morphed into irritation.

“Is that yer idea of a joke?” He asked.

“No! I’m telling the truth,” An idea occurred to Kat. “How do I know that you’re telling the truth? As far as I’m concerned, you’re the one trespassing.” The boy spluttered.

“Look,” Kat continued. “It’s been a really rough night for me, and I think we both want to know what exactly is going on. Can we agree to be nice to each other while we figure it out?”

The boy stared at her for a second then two then three. Finally, he relented.

“Okay sure,” He said. Kat sighed with relief.

"Thank you. Now let’s try this again. Hi. My name is Katherine, but you can call me Kat.” She said and stuck her hand out for a handshake. The boy stared at her hand then to Kat.

“Billy”. He said in a clipped tone. Billy took her hand. A chill ran up her arm as they shook hands. She tried to let go, but Billy doubled down on his grip.

“I’m taking you to my Daddy, and he’ll know how to deal with you.” He started to drag Kat.

“Hey wait-” Kat started to protest. She tried to yank her hand back, but underestimated her own strength. She tumbled backwards and pulled Billy down with her. The lantern slipped from his hand. It fell to the floor with a mighty crash. Kat’s head struck something on her way down, leaving her stunned.

In front of them, the fire from the lantern began to grow. The flames spread unnaturally fast. Flames licked up the left side of the barn. Billy pushed himself next to her and beelined straight towards the barn doors. Kat tried to move herself, but she found her body refusing to obey her commands.

Billy managed to swing one of the doors open. He ran out, hopefully to go get some help. Kat tried to shout for help, but she started choking on the smoke. Time stretched on too long and too fast as the flames continued to eat away at the barn. A different kind of darkness started to dance on the edge of her vision. Somewhere in the haze of the blaze, several pieces clicked together at once.

The magically repaired roof, Billy, and the boy who knew too much about a mysterious fire.

With a sinking feeling, Kat also realized the identity of who the charred child was. Or rather, who it's about to be.

She did what none of her aunts or uncles, or even Momma, could have done. Kat solved the mystery of what happened in the old barn all those years ago.

Too bad she won't be able to tell any of them about it.