I stopped rowing and he smiled and started to glide through the water towards me.
When he got to within a few feet of the boat he faded like a mirage and vanished.
I sat in the boat and stared at the spot of water where the ghost boy had been as the breeze blew through my hair and the boat gently bobbed over the current. After a few minutes, I pushed the paddles through the water and started rowing back to shore. Maybe I’d see the kid again and maybe I wouldn’t. But I knew I didn’t have anything to fear. Hell, I owed the kid.
I now had my story.
I smiled, let out a chuckle, and let the tide carry me back to shore.
I stood in front of the old barn and waited. The noise had been like a heavy moan and my little sister, Becca, and I had heard it a good fifty yards away while we’d been wandering through the pumpkin field.
“Do you think a hurt man is in there?” Becca asked.
Becca was only six but she clued into things pretty quickly. I rubbed my chin and stared at the big, red, wooden door. “I don’t know what’s in there. But we both heard it.” I guess I should check it out.
“I want to come too,” Becca said with a bit of a whine.
“No, Becca. You stay here.” I walked to the door and wrapped my hand around the handle. Taking a deep breath, I pulled the door open and peered into the barn. The late afternoon sun lit up the rows of haystacks and shined against the big green tractor that sat in the middle of the barn. It didn’t look like anybody was in there.
“Hello!” I called out.
No answer.
“Is a man in there?” Becca asked.
I waved my hand at her and walked in. This was only the third time I’d been in the barn since we’d moved to New England from Tennessee two weeks ago and it was a hell of a lot different coming in here alone. It was mustier in here than the last time and the air felt thicker, almost like you could actually step on it, but unless someone was hiding underneath the stacks or the locked loft in the roof, no one was in there.
But I’d heard that moaning.
I turned and walked out.
That night at dinner my older brother, Zack, flung a spoonful of mashed potato at Becca, and when the white goop hit her square in the forehead the nightly dinner show began. Becca started crying and threw a piece of broccoli at Zack, my mom smacked Zack in the back of the head—he was already fourteen years old so I couldn’t blame her—and my dad sentenced him to 5:00 a.m. chores in the morning.
But I was barely paying attention to any of that.
My mind was on that moan I’d heard in the barn.
After dinner my parents watched TV while Becca played in her room and Zack struggled with his algebra homework. Without saying anything to anyone, I slipped outside into the night and walked over to the barn. The face of the barn had a soft white glow from the moon and I stood about ten feet in front of the door, deciding whether or not to peek inside again. A coyote howl rang out from the woods on the other side of the pumpkin field and I heard the moaning again. My heart raced and I took a step forward but stopped. If someone was really in there it would be pretty dumb to go in alone.
But I didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell my dad yet. He hated surprises and was tired from all the work the farm was giving him. I walked back into the house, went into my room, and lay down on my bed. Even though Zack was the third most intelligent of the three of us, I’d tell him about the noise tomorrow and we’d go back in there and really take a look around.
I read my comics for a while and ended up falling asleep with Spiderman #172 covering my face. The next morning I got up, showered, and went downstairs to the kitchen just as Zack was coming through the front door.
“Have a good time with the cows, Zack?” I asked.
“Shut up, Braylan,” Zack muttered. He followed me into the kitchen, took the Corn Flakes out of the pantry, and sat down at the breakfast table.
“Look, Zack, I’ve got to talk to you about something,” I said.
“Yeah, what’s that?” he asked as he poured milk into the plastic bowl.
I rubbed my hands together. “I think someone’s in the barn.”
“What, like a hobo or something?” he asked as he stuffed a spoonful of cereal in his mouth.
“I don’t know. Me and Becca heard a weird moaning sound when we were out in the field yesterday and last night when I went out there I heard it again and saw the doors rattle.”
“And you need your big brother to check it out and make things safe for you,” Zack said.
I rolled my eyes. “I want you to take a look in there with me to see if we can find anything.”
Zack lifted the bowl and slurped down the rest of his cereal. He put the bowl back on the table and threw his left hand at my face; I flinched just as he stopped before he hit my cheek. “Sure, wimp. I’ll make sure the barn is safe for you.”
Zack got up, tossed his bowl and spoon in the sink, and I followed him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. We walked out of the house into another sunny October day and headed straight to the barn.
“You ready, little man?” Zack asked as
