by Christine Paige
Huh, I must have dozed off. My head feels full of cobwebs, thick and dull.
A slice of light pierces my one eye as it cuts across the pressed dirt floor, like a lighthouse beacon searching over black water. Only it’s not nighttime. These are the late day rays of sun, amber and warm. The golden beams break through the only place they can, between the thick wooden boards of the arching doorway. Slowly they crawl along beside me, straight as an arrow towards the far stone wall. Eventually as the afternoon embraces evening, that light will cut the room in two.
Walter and I come here often. Well, in the summer anyway. It’s a great hideaway. Our secret place. No one ever comes here, unless everyone does. That’s when you get gussied up and ‘attend’, while they lay someone deep into a dark pit, and in a pine box. It doesn’t creep us out, them storing the bodies in here when the ground is too frozen hard to bury anyone. It’s their misfortune of dying after the Christmas freeze. Round about May when all that’s changed, the Dead House gets emptied out with a lot of ‘attending’ ceremonies and then belongs to us. Bliss awaits Walter and I here when our chores are done, the eight walls beckon with the promise of cool shade and freedom. We pocket a fresh roll or baked sweet treat that Mama just made that morning, hike on over to this place and savour our afternoons, as best brothers do.
My eyes fully open now and my mind starting to clear, the memories of the morning come rushing back. I grin just thinking about it. I know Walter and I will get the dickens for not finishing our work in the main barn. Pa’s for sure gonna pitch a fit. Well dang nabbit, we were just having so much fun. It’s the best, throwing each other into the open bails of hay, crashing down on them and trying to bury each other alive. The prickly stuff gets stuck in our hair and clothes, making us look like a couple of wild wrestling scarecrows.
I know we’re not supposed to climb up the main beam. Pa says it’s dangerous and too high. I couldn’t help it and besides my balance is so good. Walter can climb better than a monkey. I’ve never seen a monkey in real life, but saw pictures of them in one of the books at school. Hah! Swinging on vines from one big tree to the next, their scrawny little arms reaching for one hold after the other. They move like the pendulum on the big clock at grandma’s house, only they’re flying through the jungle treetops. When I first got up on the beam Walter yelled at me to come down but I just laughed and said ‘come and get me!’, making gestures of scratching under my armpits and dangling my arms just like those monkeys do. He might have sounded mad at first, but I knew he couldn’t resist. There we are on that big beam. I’m way ahead of him and he’s got hold of a long thick rope slung over the roof rafter. I start hooting a monkey call and Walter burst out a monkey call back that sends us both into hysterics. Sidelong, my feet barely the width of the beam, I inch out farther and farther while Walter tries to close in, but I don’t let him get close enough to get his hands on me. It’s all so funny, him yelling and getting all stern with me now. I don’t even hear him anymore, I’m overcome with laughing so hard. He let’s go of the rope and tries to get next to me with one final grab of my shirt, and low and behold, it knocks us both right off!! It feels so great, laughing so hard, falling so far. Everything slows right down. I watch the light coming in through the slits between the barn boards, and they bring to life the dust fairies floating by. Sound muffles and then it isn’t there at all. I can see Walter’s face clearly as we drop, his hair flying every which way and his mouth wide open in a strange shape that I’ve never seen on him before. His lips are pulled back tight too, and I only see him screaming, our crazy pitch sucking his voice away. Waiting for the soft fluffy landing in the hay bales down below goes on and on, and I get caught in the moment of descending, my eyes connected to my brother’s as we fall.
Suddenly I feel walter’s hand on my shoulder bringing me right back from the thoughts of our morning to the cool dirt floor of the Dead House. I turn to see Walter facing me. I laugh right out loud and make a monkey gesture. He hardly even grins, so I let it go. I say, “We better get back, it’s getting late and Pa’ll be madder than a wet hen if we don’t get more of the chores done.”
He says nothing, just leans back on the cool damp earth floor with a piece of twitch grass hanging lazy-like outa his mouth.
I shake my head and say, “ Suit yourself, but I’m heading back before Mama calls us for supper. If we wait till then, there’ll be the devil to pay,” I forewarn. He just stares at me, like I’m missing something, then closes his eyes. “Fine,” I say getting up. “Your hide not mine.
I start down the path towards home and my mind drifts again. I start to fretting too. My head begins to feel light. I don’t remember eating at all since Mama made breakfast. Things look cloudy even though the sun is still above the horizon. The trees feel like they are getting thicker and thicker, closing in tighter and seizing my legs. I’m barely moving forward now and my lungs can’t get enough air. It’s gotten too dark too fast. Why can’t I get back to the road and go home? Something’s wrong here, dead wrong. Then just for a split second I realize a sort of understanding, but can’t for the life of me hang onto the thought. I give in to the weakness and float softly through a black realm, empty of anything. Like falling into a deep sleep, but much, much farther away.
Huh, I must have dozed off. My head feels full of cobwebs, thick and dull.
A slice of light pierces my one eye as it cuts across the pressed dirt floor, like a lighthouse beacon searching over black water. Only it’s not nighttime. These are the late day rays of sun, amber and warm. The golden beams break through the only place they can, between the thick wooden boards of the arching doorway. Slowly they crawl along beside me straight as an arrow, towards the far stone wall. Eventually as the afternoon embraces evening, that light will cut the room in two.