Itinerant Chronicler

Misdeed Chapter 2

Once inside the barn, he could see absolutely nothing. The barn was pitch black inside; save for the moonlight coming in through the slightly parted doors. He was forced to wait for his eyes to adjust to the dim light. At last, his eyes were able to make out a ladder not far from the entrance. For an instant he thought about closing the door, but that would cut off all of his light, and leave him in total darkness. That could prove quite hazardous walking around in a strange barn, even if it did seem abandoned. Heading toward the ladder his nose started to detect the tell-tale stench of manure. It must have been used mostly for livestock he thought to himself. Who ever owned this barn did not seem to take any time to clean it out. He wrinkled his nose against the smell, put his hands on the rungs of the ladder and looked up into the blackness. He hoped the smell at the top of the ladder was better than it was at the bottom.

It only took a moment to make it up the ladder. He sensed, more than saw that he had passed through the floor of the next level. He put his hand down and felt hay beneath it. He had found the hayloft. He smiled to himself; this would make a good place to hide not to mention it would be comfortable. He would stay here for the night, and decide which way to go in the morning. He headed toward the front part of the hayloft, and just as he suspected, there was a door here too. It was for getting the hay bales into, and out of the loft. He pushed on the closed door, and to his surprise it opened easily. In fact, it opened so easily he nearly fell from the hayloft. He looked out the hayloft door. He could see the entire area around the front of the barn. He looked behind him, and saw loose hay that had been piled up along the edges of the walls. It made a very, very inviting bed.

He piled some hay up near the door in a way that would keep him concealed, but would allow him to see out the door. With that done, he quickly descended the ladder and closed the main door into the barn. It was not open far, but he had left it open enough that anyone could see that someone had been in the barn. The moonlight coming in through the hayloft door more than made it bright enough for him to see by. Once the lower door was closed he climbed back to the loft, and looked outside. He took in a few deep breaths of fresh air; thankful that it did not smell of manure, and then closed the hayloft door. He left it open just a crack so he could see out.

He lay down on his hay bed and tried to relax. He cast one more, quick glance outside then closed his eyes. Immediately he heard a growl. It sounded like it came from right on top of him. He sat up quickly and darted his eyes around the hayloft, and saw nothing. Then he heard it again. This time he knew exactly what it was. He almost laughed out loud at his own gullibility. He was being frightened by, not a demon from hell, but his own growling stomach. That was one more thing he would have to deal with tomorrow as well. He reasoned there may be a farm house nearby, or even maybe a plantation. He would have no trouble finding food at a place like that.

The man sighed to himself as he stretched his sore muscles. He was almost content. If it were not for his current predicament and his hunger, he might well be enjoying himself right now. He had a soft bed, and it was a warm night. Other than something to eat, what else could he have hoped to ask for? He laid back down putting his hungry belly out of his mind, and stretched back out.

After a short time his mind started to wonder. His thoughts strayed to his childhood first, then to other memories, some were pleasant, others not so much. Finally, his thoughts drifted to a small farmhouse. It was a very simple place, quite inviting, despite its simplicity. Two people lived there, a newly married young couple. The house had been a gift from the town's people. The land it sat upon had been gifted to them by the new husband's father. It was an old tradition of the town they lived in. If the father of either the bride or groom would provide the land then the town would provide the dwelling. Even though the house was a simple place it was very comfortable. It looked much like the frontier homes of the far west, but this house was much better constructed. The young husband worked his little plot of land and his father's land. He helped his father maintain his own farm and helped to provide food for his new family. After his father passed away he would inherit his father's entire farm. For now, the two were content with their simple cottage and their simple lives.