The Messenger

Elea had felt a cool wave of relief when she opened her eyes to find Anders still sleeping in her lap. His breathing was labored, but he was still breathing and that made her rejoice almost to the point of tears. Elea and her younger brothers, Bo and Anders, and sister, Agnes had come to the farm three years ago when their parents had died of consumption. Delores Inger took in wayward children and Elea had initially been very grateful to have somewhere to go with her siblings. But, they soon found out that Widow Inger did not house children out of the goodness of her heart. She took them in as free labor for her farm, forcing them to work long hard hours with little in return.

Each morning they were to line up on the porch and put out their hands so Widow Inger could spoon oatmeal into their palms; at lunch it was the same unless anyone hadn’t been ‘earning their keep’ as Widow Inger put it. At night they received broth and a slice of bread; they were always hungry. The children were made to sleep in the bunkhouse, which was stifling hot in the summer and freezing in the winter. Elea was certain that Anders was sick from the cold; her only comfort was that the chill might help his fever break.

Elea had asked Widow Inger to let her make the long walk into town to fetch the doctor, but she’d refused, telling Elea that if she left she would be shot as a trespasser if she came back. Widow Inger knew that the good doctor would not let her keep the children if he saw how they were living and then she would have to relieve him just as she had relieved the nice Reverend who had tried making trouble at the farm years before. She had never relieved a child, but she had buried a few who were just too weak to pull through on their own accord.

Elea had turned 19 this year and had been free to leave for a while, but Widow Inger would not let her take her brothers and sister with her. Honestly, Elea didn’t know how she would take care of them, and so she stayed to make sure they were as ok as they could be in this horrible place. And it wasn’t just her siblings, Elea looked out for the other children that were there, too.

Despite the old woman’s threats, Elea had made the decision last night that she was going to get the doctor. Widow Inger couldn’t shoot her in front of the doctor and she couldn’t very well refuse to let him see her brother once he was there. Whatever happened after that she would have to deal with, but after last night, she was certain the boy would die if she didn’t get help.

Elea tucked Anders in as best she could and left him a cup of water and her oatmeal on a piece of newspaper. She would sneak back to check on him throughout the day, but for now had to tend to chores or she would get the belt later.

Elea, Bo and Agnes walked through the snow out to the old barn. They walked with silent worry over their brother and when they reached the barn, each began their duties. Elea let them get settled into what they were doing and kept a close eye on the house to make sure Widow Inger wouldn’t sneak up on them. Finally, she said, “I’m leaving tonight after lights out. I am going into town and I’ll bring the doctor back in the morning.”

The two youngsters said nothing, but Elea saw tears slipping down her sister’s cheeks.

“Don’t cry, Agnes,” she said gently, “I will be back in the morning.”

“But Mrs. Inger said she’d shoot you!” Agnes sobbed.

Elea simultaneously hugged and hushed the child.

“She won’t. I promise you she won’t shoot me. Anders is very ill and if I don’t go for help I’m afraid he will die. Do you understand, Agnes?”

The child sniffed and wiped her eyes, nodding slowly. Hoot hoot came from above them and Elea got a cold chill.

“Look,” Bo said, pointing to the rafters, “it’s an owl.”

“Yes, I see it. Finish your chores now,” Elea said. She did not like the owl. It was a messenger of death that had come before her mother died, and then again for her father.

The three finished up in the barn and the two youngsters hurried out ahead of their sister, who paused in the doorway. Elea saw the owl looking down on her.

“You just leave him alone,” she said in slow angry tones to the animal. “You can’t take him. I’m getting help and you just better leave him be!”

The owl just blinked and softly hooted down at her.

It was lights-out in the bunkhouse and Elea laid motionless in bed. She heard the crunching of footsteps outside as Widow Inger approached and then the door swung open letting in an icy draft. The lantern cast shadows through the darkness as the old woman did her head count. After Widow Inger left, Elea waited for what seemed like an eternity before climbing out of bed and kissing her siblings goodbye.

“Listen for Anders and get him what he needs. I’ll be back by morning,” she reassured.

As she crept from the bunkhouse, Elea made her way towards the old barn. She would take the back way out of the farm instead of trying to make it past the house. It was beginning to snow and she knew it would be a very long and cold night. From above her, sitting in the naked branches of the trees she saw the owl. Hoot hoot it called to her and she felt as if it was telling her to hurry back before it was too late.

It was sometime in the night that Anders awoke; Agnes had crawled into his bunk after Elea left and he woke her up first. He was hungry and thirsty. He ate the cold oatmeal that had been left that morning and the little bit of broth and bread they had saved for him. Agnes had fetched him water from every cup she could find in the darkness, but he was still asking for more and that’s when she’d woke Bo up.

“I’ll go to the barn and try to get a little warm milk. That should fill him up,” he had told his sister.

“What if Widow Inger catches you?” Agnes worried.

The boy swallowed the lump of fear in his throat and summoned his courage.

“She won’t,” he said matter-of-factly.

He gathered himself and slipped from the bunkhouse and around the back. He kept looking for Elea’s footprints, but it was snowing and blowing and he could hardly see anything at all. But soon, the looming darkness of the barn appeared and he hurried inside. Bo lit the lantern keeping the light low. There weren't any windows in the barn, but he wanted to be cautious. He took his post and began quickly milking.

The temperature was dropping rapidly as the wind whipped flurries of snow around Elea. She was not moving fast enough. At this rate she wouldn’t make it to town until noon, if she didn’t freeze to death first. She heard the foreboding call of the owl above her. The animal had become her unwelcome travel companion. Exhausted and frustrated, Elea took shelter behind a barren tree to block the wind and sat down. The hooting continued and she felt angry tears escape her. Suddenly, the owl flew down from its perch and landed just a few feet from her, meeting her gaze. She kicked and threw snow at it, but it remained.

“Take me,” she said to the owl. “He’s just a little boy. Please… please take me instead.”

The owl cocked it’s head and stared at her for a moment before spreading its wings and turning back for the farm.

“No!” Elea screamed, scrambling to her feet.

It was going back for Anders! She didn’t know what she would do once she got back to the farm, but she had to do something. Elea gracelessly ran through the drifts of snow back the way she had come.

Bo didn’t know how long he’d been in the barn, but decided that it was long enough. His nerves were getting the better of him. He gave the cow a little dried corn for her late night contribution and was putting the milking stool back when the barn door suddenly flew open. Window Inger stood ominously in the doorway adorned in her housecoat and overshoes.

“Your sister’s snuck off and now I find you in here stealing from me! God has a special place in hell for rotten children like you,” Inger hissed at him.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to steal, my brother is sick and I thought… I thought,” Bo’s voice trembled as the old woman entered the barn and he saw the belt in her hand.

Elea was exhausted from running through the deep snow. Ragged breaths escaped her as she went. Her body betrayed her cause; she was so cold nothing seemed to work right. She could hear the owl up ahead as if it were taunting her. All of a sudden she fell, laying herself out flat on her face. She pushed herself up, sobbing with defeat; she was not going to make it in time. Her body ached as she got to her feet, her tears freezing to her face and realized she could see the farm. It was right there! Hurry, she thought as she forced herself to run. Hurry!

As Widow Inger approached Bo he backed away from her. He wanted to run, but Inger loomed in his path, her words promising him pain like he couldn’t imagine. The old woman would kill him, he was certain of it. She reached out, the belt cracking in the air and he jumped back, but he could only back up so far. He was trapped.

Elea was making her way to the bunkhouse when she heard the owl calling from the barn. Hoot hoot.

She could see a dim light coming from the open doors and changed her course. Bursting through the doorway, she saw Inger looming above Bo who was crouched in the corner. Elea could see the wild look in her eyes as she turned to her.

“You!” Inger snarled at Elea. “Troublemaker! When I get my hands on you I’m going to wrap this belt around your neck and bury you. You and all the brats you came with!”

Then the old woman charged her. Elea threw her arm up in front of her face to block the blow she knew was coming, but it never did. Instead Widow Inger began to scream and Elea looked up to see the owl with its talons sunk deeply into her shoulders. It lifted her from the ground and began to shake her.

Elea scrambled to her brother and the two watched in disbelief as the old woman flailed. The owl rose into the air, shaking her up and down until it pulled her soul from her. Her body dropped to the ground like discarded corn husk, but her spirit still screamed as the messenger took her to the underworld.

Elea and Bo sat staring in disbelief at what they had just witnessed. Inger was dead. The usher of death was here for her and her body lay crumpled on the barn floor to prove it. The two cautiously approached the woman who had caused them so much pain.

“God has a special place in hell for rotten old women like you,” Bo whispered softly.

Somewhere in the distance they heard the owl softly calling, hoot hoot.