The Barn



  The Barn

  by

  ScottThigpen

  Copyright 2012 Scott Thigpen

  Chapter One

  It was going to be a good day. Maybe the best ever.

  Nine year old Ronnie knew that as soon as he woke up that Saturday morning. Seven AM sharp, no alarm clocks needed. Scooby Doo was about to come on and Ronnie never missed it.

  'Can't hardly get you up during the week but every damn Saturday mornin', you're up at seven on the nose. Beats all I've ever seen!', Pops would mutter most every Saturday morning when he would stumble through the living room into the kitchen where he would produce a knock out breakfast, regardless of how much he was regretting his Friday night drink.

  Ronnie knew better than to point out the obvious: One, it's Saturday and no School and Two, it's Scooby Doo. Scooby Doo. Ronnie thought if they ran Scooby Doo every morning, a lot of nine year olds might get out of bed a bit better. But he had Saturday mornings at seven so he made sure to get up in time. He knew some kids he went to school with had cable and they had cartoons in the afternoon. But he lived in the country and they had three channels on the TV. How many did you need?

  Ronnie's love of Scooby Doo notwithstanding, there was another reason today may in fact be the best day ever. Yes sir, today may very well shape up to be the day all other days aspire to be.

  Yesterday was Ronnie's ninth birthday and he was treated to dinner in town at Chicken Delite. And Pops even laid off his weekly Friday night drink and everyone had a good time. But the absolute kicker was when everyone came home and sitting on the couch was a brand new Sears Straight Shooter BB Gun. It was the deluxe model, it came with a strap to sling it over your shoulder.

  Yes, Ronnie was no longer a kid. He had a bona fide firearm.

  What he didn't have was ammunition. Yup, the parents had forgot to buy the BB's to go into his brand new Sears Straight Shooter BB Gun . Ronnie wasn't terribly surprised, they usually forgot to buy the batteries for his Christmas presents, too. So after the euphoric three minutes spent opening all his presents, came the whole day of waiting til they could go to the store to buy the triple A's and nine volts. Good thing a lot of toys didn't require batteries, though or Christmas Day would be a monumental let down for Ronnie.

  His parents had been a little down about the BB's but Ronnie was not too upset. It was dark already and he knew that Pops went to town every Saturday morning to the Winn Dixie. Ronnie would usually ride with him and then wander down to the other end of the shopping center and wander through the toy aisles at TG&Y. They had an entire aisle of nothing but model cars! MPC and Monogram were the best. They had Revell models, but Ronnie didn't like them, they weren't as cool. He'd wander up and down the aisle looking at all the different models.

  But this Saturday, when he went, he'd make a beeline for the sporting good department and buy some ammo. He had known he was getting a BB gun and had been collecting targets. And every boy knew the best targets were Pepsi bottles. He had a small collection hidden in the woods near the house. Because every boy also knew there wasn't a Dad around that would let you bust a Pepsi bottle. That's ten cents for free, his Pops would say. He had seen Ronnie break a bottle once. Ronnie didn't like sitting down for a day or two. That's why Ronnie was hiding the Pepsi bottles in the woods.

  He could hear Pops in the kitchen, putting the coffee on. Scooby Doo had just started and Ronnie settled under the blanket on the couch. He knew breakfast would be ready just as Scooby Doo went off at seven thirty; Pops always had it ready just at 7:30. His brother Mike was still asleep in his room. Mike did not see the sheer greatness that was Scooby Doo but he would almost surely wake up close to 7:30. The smell of fresh brewed coffee, hot bacon and scrambled eggs could make anyone get out of bed.

  Scooby Doo's theme song has just started when Pops stepped into the living room and tussling Ronnie's hair, said,' Breakfast's ready, man. Get your Brother up and let's have some food.' Ronnie didn't have to get his brother, he wandered out of his room less than a minute later, yawning.

  Ronnie's family lived in an old farm house. Originally two bed rooms with a tiny eat in kitchen, a few years ago Pops and the older kids had added a large dining room and a third bedroom. It was by no means a mansion but it was comfortable and they never wanted for anything. Ronnie and Mike made their plates, scrambled eggs, grits, bacon and toast with a large glass of orange juice and took a seat at the large hand made dining table. Pops joined them with a large cup of coffee.

  'I guess you're going to go with me when I go grocery shopping?'

  'Yes sir! Can't wait to get some BB's and try out my new BB gun', Ronnie said.

  'Well, we'll go after breakfast, so eat up', said Pops.

  Ronnie ate up.

  Chapter Two

  After breakfast , Ronnie brushed his teeth and put on his sneakers while Pops was cleaning up from the meal. When that was done, they got in Pops new Ford. Pops was proud of the Ford truck. It was a brand new, a 1980 model and was one of the first vehicles bought from the new local Ford Dealership. Ronnie knew Pops was really proud of being one of the first to buy local. Yes sir, no need to go to Tallahassee anymore, better to buy from people you know, who you've grown up with.

  Pops thought that even after receiving his Ford F150. They had to order his truck and Pops only had a few simple requests. He told Jimmie Sapp, the local saleman, that he would take any color but brown, the truck had to have a/c and he wanted a five speed. When the truck finally came in, Pops was as excited as Ronnie was on Christmas morning. The whole family rode up to the Dealership, just outside of town. When they pulled in, there was the truck. A brand new 1980 Ford F-150, with a/c and a five speed manual. Pearl Brown exterior, brown plaid interior. Pops was not happy. But after a little while of Pops stating how unhappy he was, the local people at the Ford dealership came through and knocked two hundred dollars off the price, so Pops was ok with it, even if it was poop brown.

  The poop brown Ford soon pulled into the parking lot of the Winn-Dixie shopping center. As they were getting out of the truck, Pops reached into his back pocket and pulled out his wallet.

  'Here, son. Take a few bucks and get you some BB's.' He thought for a second, then reached in and grabbed a couple more singles and said, 'Here, get some for your brother, too.'

  'Thanks, Pops, I'll head on down, now', said Ronnie.

  'Alright, you know where I'll be', and Pops walked into the grocery store.

  Ronnie slowly walked to the front of Winn Dixie, giving his Dad time to get into the store. When he had allowed about half a minute, Ronnie turned to the left and started down the shopping center sidewalk. It was covered and had a fairly significant slope, with the Wards Drug Store at the top of the hill the shopping center was built on. Winn Dixie was next. Ronnie was headed to the TG&Y department store, located at the bottom of the hill, around 250 feet away.

  After a few steps Ronnie grabbed a vacant buggy and pointed it down the hill. Pushing off, Ronnie rode the buggy down the entire length of the hill. He wasn't sure how fast he was going but he knew it would be a colossal crash, if he ever did. He never had, and it was so fun, especially the little dip right in front of the library, that he really didn't think of the consequences if anything would ever happen.

  Nothing happened on this ride, except he almost gave old Mrs. Clark a coronary as she was about to open the door of the Library when he went roaring past at 25 mph, the carts 3 inch plastics wheels humming. Mrs. Clark was not able to be certain of who it was that almost scared her to death but if she had, she'd have gone directly to Pops and let him know of his child's foolishness. That's how it was done in small town America in the late 70's and early 80's.

  Ronnie stopped the cart by dragging his sneakers on the sidewalk. Luckily, there was a flat
space and Ronnie was able to stop the cart right before the front entrance to TG&Y. Every time.

  Ronnie went inside and as he had planned, headed straight for the sporting goods department. He found the open display box of BB's on the counter without the help of the young teenager with a crew cut working behind the counter. He grabbed three of the four inch long thick cardboard cylinders, appreciating the weight of the ammunition.

  Ronnie didn't even take his weekly tour of the model car aisle, he was too excited to get back to Winn Dixie to silently will Pops out the door. There was no wait at the check out line and he quickly paid for the BB's and started the long uphill walk back to the grocery store. He quickly made it back and went inside to look for his Dad. He found him in the back of the store at the meat counter, talking to Mister Byrd. William Byrd owned a good chunk of Taylor County and lived on a huge sprawl of land out by Ronnie's house. Actually, Mr. Byrd's land looped halfway around the rural neighborhood Ronnie's family lived in and backed up to their few acres.

  Ronnie wasn't too sure what Mr. Byrd did but he always had the nicest biggest pick up truck, he always wore a denim jacket and he hunted deer as much as he could, sometimes with Ronnie's Grandfather. Ronnie liked Mr. Byrd, who was always kind to him.

  Ronnie walked up and stood next to his Dad and listened to their conversation.

  'Well, not sure what got him down but the cow was bloated and he had welts all over him. Don't think he's going to make it, damnedest thing I ever seen. Looks like he was bitten by a swarm of bugs, but I've never heard of that', said Byrd.

  'Yeah, and you said this was a full grown cow? Not a calf? I guess it could happen if it was a calf or maybe ever a yearling, but a full grown cow? Any of your others got welts or anything?', said Pops.

  'No, uh uh, found that one down by the pond near your land. The rest of the herd was up at the barn and they all looked fine. I did a spot check after I found the dead one. Damnedest thing.... well, tell Joe when you see him, if you would.'

  Joe was Ronnie's Grandfather, who sometimes kept cattle in the field behind their home. And that field backed up to the land where Mr. Byrd's cow had died.

  Ronnie's Father said, 'Yes Sir, Mr. Byrd, I will let him know but I don't think he's got any cows back there right now. Sorry to hear about the cow.'

  'Thanks, and good to see you. And you too, Ronnie. I hear you got your first gun yesterday?'

  Grinning, Ronnie said 'Yes sir!' and then Pops and Ronnie headed to the check out lane.

  Chapter Three

  Mike was waiting on the front porch when they pulled up. The brothers quickly took the groceries into the house, grabbed their bb guns from their rooms and met back on the front porch to load them with bb's. Mike showed Ronnie how to cup his hand around the ammo hole on the barrel and then pour the bb's in with his other hand.

  Ronnie spilled a few but soon they were ready to go shoot. They headed behind the house. A sizable back yard was fenced in. Around the fence was a thin line of trees and near the gate was an old tobacco barn. The barn was old and decrepit, with holes showing in two of the walls. Ronnie had never seen any tobacco in the barn, except for the cigs Mike and his friend John had smoked inside a few months ago. All that was ever in there were bales of hay. For some reason Ronnie's Grandfather would keep bales of hay in the barn and without fail, some of the bales always came undone and then Ronnie or Mike would somehow end up climbing up the frame walls of the old barn and just happen to fall into the hay. It was a wonder neither of them broke their necks doing that but Ronnie's Granddad always made sure to loosen up the twine on five or six bales going in the barn, just to be sure.

  Today, the barn was not on the agenda yet. The boys headed out into the field behind the barn and walked into the woods past. A bit into the woods of pine and oak, Ronnie walked to the foot of a wide oak tree and moved some twigs and branches aside. He had hidden eight Pepsi Cola bottles and they were about to soon be sacrificed to the cause of two boy's shooting enjoyment.

  Mike grabbed two bottles and lined them on a downed tree trunk and walked off twenty paces and drew a line with his Chuck Taylor Converse sneakers in the leaf cover.

  'Here, Ronnie, stand behind the line and take a shot. All you do is line up the bottle with the sight on the end of the barrel and pull the trigger', Mike said.

  Ronnie did just as he was instructed but his first shot was low, he saw when it hit the trunk two inches below the bottle.

  'Almost! Try it again'

  This time Ronnie took aim, took a deep breath and pulled the trigger. He was greeted by a sound sweet to only young boys armed with a BB gun, shattering glass Pepsi bottles.

  'Good job!' his brother said and punched him on the arm in a brotherly display of love.

  The other eleven bottles lasted around 15 minutes and they all made sweet sounds to the boys.

  Ronnie and Mike covered the glass with leaves and sticks and after a couple of hours wandering around in the woods, doing nothing in particular but having a good time, the kids decided to go to the barn. Walking back through the field, Mike said, 'Hey, let's try something. Lay down on the ground.' Mike pointed to a spot nearby and flopped down on the ground himself.

  'What are you doing? Come on, let's go to the barn', said Ronnie.

  'No, hit the ground. I'm trying an experiment', said Mike with a grin that meant one of two things. Either this was going to be a lot of fun or it was going to be a lot of fun that might get them in a ton of trouble. Either way, it would be fun so Mike flopped down on the ground.

  After a minute the fun still had not happened so Ronnie asked, 'So, what exactly are we doing?'

  Mike answered, 'Baiting buzzards. See that one at the top of the hill over there? I wonder if them seeing us laying in the field will make them circle around us?'

  Ronnie considered for a moment and decided that was in fact a very good experiment so he moved into what he thought was a better pose to entice a buzzard to come dine on his dead guts.

  He was face up and was able to watch first the one buzzard, then a second, then a third slowly start circling hundreds of feet above them.

  'Son of a gun, it works!', said Mike.

  Ronnie thought it was a cool experiment, although he wasn't sure exactly what use this knowledge had in the real world but he decided it was very cool to know, anyway.

  Ronnie felt something brush behind his ear on his neck and dismissed it as dry grass. He rubbed his neck with his hand, trying to get the grass off his neck.Again, something brushed behind his ear again and in a split second he knew it wasn't grass.

  Ronnie jumped straight up from the laying position swatting and wiping at his neck with both hands at the same time, all while yelling bloody murder. At his second wipe he brushed the spider off his neck onto the ground where he had been laying.

  Mike saw the spider and screamed. Mike was terrified of spiders, he was spider phobic. He was so bad with them that Ronnie never played any type of tricks that involved fake spiders, spider webs or anything like that. It wasn't funny to see how his older brother would act. It was an unspoken rule between the two of them.

  The spider was about an inch and a half long, furry looking and brown. Ronnie stripped off his flannel shirt and made sure there was nothing on him. And then he stomped the spider into paste.

  'Check my back, Mike. Make sure I don't have anything on me!' Ronnie felt like several hundred spiders were crawling all over him.

  Mike checked him, from a safe distance and gave the all clear.

  The buzzards had left.

  'Come on, let's go.' The boys headed to the barn.

  Chapter Four

  The kids backtracked a bit and followed the edge of the woods until they were sure they were on their property and then walked across the field. It was late afternoon but still plenty of time to play in the Tobacco Barn, they decided. The barn had a door on the front that the kids never used for two reasons. The first was that the front of the barn could be seen from their house and t
hey were not supposed to play in the barn. It was dangerous and they could put their eye out. Anything they liked to do came with the warning that they would put their eye out. Ronnie and Mike had never met a kid that had their eye put out, but it must be a huge problem because their mother was convinced the boys were a mistake away from having their eye put out.

  The second reason was that at the back of the barn and the right side of the barn were two openings. The rear opening was by design. It was a a large gap built into the barn wall. Ronnie didn't know why it was there, maybe so they could load and unload tobacco (now, hay) easily. The other opening was because a couple of the planks used in building the barn however many years ago had snapped and fallen off the barn.

  So the boys always entered the barn from one of those two entrances, and often exited from those entrances and beat feet across the field to hide in the woods if their Dad heard them in the barn and gave a yell. He'd never actually whipped either of them for playing in the barn, but the warning had been given. And a warning from Pops was something you could bank on.

  Ronnie and Mike stepped into the cool, dusty and dark barn from the rear entrance and stopped for a moment to let their eyes adjust to the dark. Ronnie was pretty sure the smell of old wood, tar paper and hay was one of the best smells in the world. The barn was nothing more than four walls framed in with slats across the width of the barn at ten and again at fifteen feet. At one time these slats were used to hang and dry tobacco but this barn had not been used for anything other than to store hay or for the boys to play in for many years. In the middle of the barn was a wall of hay, three bales high and next to it a similar wall two bales high. The wall of hay made a backwards 'L' shape almost connecting to the side wall, almost walling off the darkest corner of the barn, farthest away from the rear openings. Several bales of hay had come apart in the corner and it was spread around nearly a foot thick there. It made a great cushion if and when the boys fell of the bales stacked up while playing King of the Hill.