by Mark E. Schrull
Yesterday I touched upon the strange occurrences taking place between the main house and the barn here on our farm in Ohio. I know some of you won’t believe the facts I am about to relate, and that’s fine. I am sure, however, some of you have had similar experiences and just haven’t told anyone out of fear of being labeled a a person who has lost their mind. I don’t fear labels and so I am comfortable relating the facts.
If you read Chapter II you know the first of the year started off with a cat sneaking around the kitchen of the main house looking in windows. Today I caught up with Darby and after some, shall we say, “friendly urging” he told me what he was up to on that New Years Eve…
“Why were you snooping around the kitchen window the other night, Darby?” I asked.
“You just don’t understand what life in the barn has become, Brutis. All the animals living out there are looking for a new place to call home.”
“Why? What’s going on with the barn?”
“A ghost has been walking through nearly every night since winter set in this year.”
“Right. A ghost,” I sarcastically remarked.
“It’s true. Honest. You know the family of swallows living there?”
“They are moving out as soon as the weather breaks. And the horses aren’t happy either but where would they go?”
“What do you mean the horses aren’t happy?”
“It’s scary out there, Brutis. A woman in a dark cloak has been wandering around the barn, the shed, and even the yard between the main house and the barn. She frightens all of us with her wailing. She weeps and cries and some times it gets so bad I have to cover my ears with my paws. I just can’t take it any more.” He took a deep breath and frowned.
I remembered sighting a spirit walking near the tire swing one bright morning shortly after sunrise but I didn’t want Darby to know I’d seen her. “What do the bats have to say about her?” I asked.
“Bats! You know bats, Brutis. Nothing scares them. They have one foot in the spirit world. They probably think nothing of it. Besides, they don’t talk to me anyway.”
“Does anyone back there have any idea who the spirit lady is or why she wanders? Has the old one had anything to say?”
“He doesn’t speak to me either. It doesn’t seem to bother him as much as it does the others,” he answered.
The old one is Ober, an owl who has lived in the barn as long as I have been here. He sleeps during the day mostly. He should have some answers for me.
“Alright then,” I told Darby. “I will talk to the old one and see what he knows. But until I figure this thing out the rest of you are just going to have to remain residences of the barn. There will be no more snooping around and looking in windows of the main house. You got that?”
“I got it,” Darby said. Then he ran off in direction of the shed.
Keep in mind that takes some doing. But if I am going to tell this story, I think it’s important everyone has the facts.
Now I must rest. Projections take a lot out of me. I will speak with Ober and report back in the next Chapter of my chronicles. Until then, have a good evening.
Mark E. Schrull
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