The Barn

Growing up we only had one rule, don’t go in the barn. Grandma would go into the barn only at night. When she thought my sister and I were asleep. When she thought mother was too drunk to care, or still at the bar. As I grew up, I was fascinated by the noises from the barn and the way for the few hours a day mother was sober she wouldn’t, perhaps couldn’t, look at it. In the evenings, if she was drinking at home, she would sit out on the front deck instead of the back garden which caught the evening sun but overlooked the barn.

When I was 16 my older sister, Anna, fell pregnant she had a boy but he didn’t survive. She went crazy with grief and hung herself from the barn door. I remember seeing the shadow of her swinging back and forth while my grandmother and mother tried to get her body down.

When I was 17 my younger sister, Emma, died she was 15 and was involved in a car accident where a boy she liked had been driving, he’d been drinking and he walked away with only a broken arm, she didn’t.

At 18 my mother’s liver started to fail. She never stopped drinking and one night I caught her in a drunken rage trying to light the barn on fire screaming at it throughout. My grandmother shuffled out to her, put the small fire out and led her inside the barn. A few days later mother passed away whether it was the drink or the tablets for the pain that did it I couldn’t say.

I was left with my grandmother, who had turned colder as she buried more of her family. I would see her watching me reading or writing an essay and she would smile at me. That smile scared me. I went away to university to study and I must say I didn’t go home very often. The last time I saw my grandmother alive was at Christmas when I was 25. She asked me if I had a boyfriend and when I said no, she smiled that terrifying smile. That last Christmas I was brave enough to ask about my family. She didn’t fly into a terrible rage but grew so silent and still I wasn’t sure what to think.

“He left like all men do.”

That night after she’d gone to bed, I snuck into the dining room to the bureau where she kept important documents. I wanted my birth certificate. I wanted a name for my father, I wanted to know if my sisters and I had the same father or if they’d been different. I wanted to find more family, I had too many unanswered questions. Was there a granny who’d hug me, a grandpa who would help me fix my car, maybe even a dad. Some aunts and uncles, cousins anyone but this cold quiet woman. Who hadn’t even called the police or firemen to cut down her own granddaughter’s body?

As I flipped through the gas bills and phone bills, bank statements I heard the shuffling of my grandmother. I froze I hoped maybe she was going to the bathroom, but I knew the noise was too close. I slowly turned around and she was stood in the doorway, back lit by the moon shining through the kitchen window.

“Get out.” She said so calmly and coldly, it chilled me to my bones.

“But Grandma I just need my birth certificate.”

“Get out.”

“Grandma I’m getting married; I need my birth certificate.”

“I said GET OUT,” and then I saw the shotgun as she raised it up from her side.

I ran out the room into the hallway. I grabbed my handbag by the front door and left.

Now it’s seven years later and I have just received a phone call from my grandmother’s solicitor telling me she is dead. I sink down onto the sofa in shock. My lovely wife, Lily walks into the room she rushes to me and wraps her arms around me asking what’s wrong. I tell her and she hugs me tighter promising me I won’t be alone.

We return to my childhood home for the funeral. We agreed to stay at the house so I can look through it before selling everything. The house smells musty and we open all the windows to air it. We know my grandmother was found dead in the front hall having suffered a fall. The police thought she had fallen outside and then crawled inside to ring for help, but no one had found her for weeks. I would have been sad for her but I knew how she was. The night before the funeral I found all the documents. My sisters and I had all been father unknown on the birth certificates, my mother’s too. There was a wedding certificate for my grandmother and a man called James Henry, but no other documents for him. The house remained in good condition as my grandmother had taken care of it. And there was a sizeable amount of money in bank accounts and policies.

Lily had been picking things up looking at them. I think expecting to find personal mementos, such as school art projects or photos, but no. In the footstall of my grandmother’s chair, she found a cigar box. Empty apart from a ring of keys. She showed it to me.

“They must be for the barn.”

“Oh, the barn you’re not allowed in?” Asked Lily excitedly. “What do you think is in there?”

“I have no idea. I always thought it must be something magical, I hoped for a time machine when I was little.” I said sadly, Lily hugged me.

“Can we look now?” She asked hesitantly.

“I guess we’ll need flashlights.”

Lily laughed. “We can use our phones, silly.”

I shook my head. I still grabbed a flashlight from the kitchen though. We walked across the garden, Lily jangling the keys.

As we approached the barn my senses felt heightened. I could hear the rustling from the woods, probably foxes going about their business. When we reached the door, it took me 3 attempts to find the right key for the padlock, then sliding back the 2 deadbolts, surprisingly well oiled. But the door didn’t open. I shoved it then kicked Lily shone the light over it and I spotted two key holes, more fumbling but then the correct keys were found and the door slid open. The flashlight played over what looked like an empty room. I frowned, why all the security for an empty barn. There was a buzz and then a click as lights came on, I blinked and looked around. Lily mouthed ‘sorry’ at me sheepishly.

We looked around the barn nothing but a small set of shelves near the back. I walked towards them and Lily slipped her hand in mine. On the shelves there was one thing, an envelope addressed to whom it may concern. My hand shaking slightly, I reached out for it I opened the flap it wasn’t sealed.

To whom it may concern,

If you are reading this, you may think what I have done is cruel. But I did it to protect my daughter and her daughters. Men are cruel. My husband raped me and then I was forced to marry him. He continued to rape me and when I became pregnant, I knew it would never end, so I planned. I planned to make a better world for women.

For women everywhere Adeline Henry (nee Buttons)

Lily and I looked at each other, I frowned I turned the paper over. I checked the envelope. I got on my hands and knees so I could check nothing was taped on the underside of the shelf as I did, I heard a hollow noise beneath me. I pushed the bookcase to one side, Lily helping me. Underneath where the bookcase had been was a trap door with a lock. Once again, I withdrew the keys from my pocket and tried several before finding the right one. Once unlocked the door swung open and the keys fell out of it dropping into the darkness below. Lily grabbed the flashlight and handed it to me. The light shone on stairs I made my way down 4 before seeing a switch I turned it on and wished I hadn’t.

A large room was before me with cells the smell was terrible, I gagged. Lily exclaimed behind me.

The first cell had a glass box with a body in it. Written by the door was a summary

Prisoner – James Henry

Crime – Rape

Punishment – Death

The next cell contained another body in a glass box

Prisoner – Sam Hardy

Crime – having sex with my daughter

Punishment – Castration

Two more cells contained bodies of men who I presumed to be my father and Emma’s.

Many more contained men that had been castrated most were dead but two alive but barely. Each labelled with the crime of having sex with my mother.

I turned to Lily ‘go upstairs call the police and ambulances’.

I continued looking in each cell and at each crime. I found;

Prisoner – Ben Castile

Crime – having sex with Anna and ruining her life

Punishment - Castration

Ben was dead

The next cell contained

Prisoner – Josh Setter

Crime- killing Emma

Punishment – Dismemberment

Josh had stumps where his hands and feet should be. He looked at me weakly.

“I’m sorry please, I’m sorry.”

The final cell contained a boy only a teenager. He wasn’t maimed like the rest. I read his crime sheet

Prisoner – Andy Henry Castile

Crime – being born a boy

Punishment – life in prison

Oh god this was Anna’s little boy. He wasn’t dead. I reached out to him he shied away from the bars. I fumbled with the keys trying different ones. When I opened the door, he retreated to the corner.

“Hi, don’t be afraid I’m your Auntie Sarah, please don’t be afraid everything….”

I didn’t get anymore out as he rushed past me shoving me backwards. I remember falling and then nothing.

I woke up in a hospital bed. Lily sat next to me holding my hand I squeezed her hand and she looked at me.

“Doctor, nurse, she’s awake. Thank god she’s awake.” Tears were streaming down her face

“Mnnmp.” I tried to talk but my throat hurt, my whole neck hurt

“Don’t talk sweetheart. The doctor said you might be able to talk when all the bruising goes down. Bbbbut he’s not sure.” She stuttered, I stared at her trying to ask questions with my eyes. “When the police arrived, they found him choking you. I thought you were dead. The boy he’s on a psychiatric hold. He can’t, doesn’t speak. Your grandmother never taught him. All those men the ones still alive have told us that your grandmother would come and feed them and give them water but that’s it. When she stopped coming, they were trapped. All of them had been down there for over a decade some even longer. The police are still trying to work it all out. No wonder you weren’t allowed in there.”

Lily and I sat holding hands as I cried for what might have been hours. For the men and my sisters whose lives were ruined by my grandmother and her hatred of men. When I was better, when the police were gone I would go back there and I would burn the damn thing to the ground, and this time she couldn’t stop it from happening.