Reality Bites

 

The barn was very appealing. There was no way that we could say no. Being the little juvenile delinquents that we were, it was almost inevitable, a feeling we couldn’t shake. Many say that curiosity killed the cat. I feel that curiosity is the key to knowledge. Although there wasn’t much knowledge to be found in the barn full of fresh hay, maybe there was a lesson or two to be learned.

Billy was about 5’ 7" and a bit portly. He was a sporty guy with green eyes and short black hair. His swelled cheeks would make you think of those of a chipmunk’s. Though the oldest of the group, he sometimes acted very childish. Something, I’m guessing his two-year seniority, made him feel the need to put on the peer pressure, most of the time getting Justin to do his dirty work.

Justin was a tall blonde haired kid with ambitions comparable to those of a horned toad. He was always trying to get with all the girls he knew, if he wasn’t doing Billy’s odds and ends. Of course it wasn’t that bad of a deal. Justin does Billy’s grunt work, and Billy introduces him to the older girls, although they were never really interested in him. He never really caught on, but he was a happy guy.

Jeff was a short blonde haired muscular kid who loved baseball and basketball. Summer days went by fast with Jeff around. He always talked us into playing some sort of sport. We never really argued though, participating in sports was the best thing for us delinquents; they kept us in shape and out of trouble. I wish I had known where the basketball was that day that we decided to explore.

In the back of my house I had about ten feet of yard followed by a steep hill that eventually flattened out at the top. The flat part went back about twenty yards and was cut off by a barbed wire fence concealing about two hundred yards of thick wooded area. Back behind that was a pasture covered in hills and holding the barn.

The barn appeared abandoned. The surrounding area was very rugged looking with old fallen apart rock walls made after the farmers cleared their fields of rocks and stones. They served no purpose and gradually were eroded by rain and snowstorms. There was only one large rare looking oak tree in front of the barn. It looked very worn out and aged. The time of the year was when where the leaves had just fallen off, probably only days before we arrived, coloring the ground like an art book. From a distance the scene was picturesque, but the interior was nowhere near perfect.

Entering the barn uncertainty filled my mind, making me wonder if the thing was going to collapse. The termites had obviously come and gone and then come again.

The base level of the barn was very dark. The only visible light came beaming in from the doorway and the many unsealed cracks, revealing the broken down horse and cattle stalls. Rotten wooden planks and stale smelling straw hid the original floor. Noticing signs of mice, we cautiously proceeded into the unknown territory.

As we entered, the adrenaline rose with every step on the crunchy straw. We attempted to be very observant, but the light situation wasn’t in our favor. Without any more interest in the ground floor, we headed up to the well-lit loft area.

The loft was full of character. All along the walls was old graffiti from earlier visitors. It was mostly faded but still very colorful and readable. The center of the second level was upraised, containing the weight of about one hundred bales of hay. They were still yellow and fresh, and the smell tickled our noses. Billy let out a terribly loud sneeze. Having allergies, Billy had Justin find the loft door to ventilate the air a bit; in doing so, Justin came up with an idea. What if we tore up the bales of hay and threw them to the ground below so that we could jump into them for a little fun entertainment? The idea then sounded very immature and really not very entertaining at all, but we all dug it.

We ended up throwing about fifty hay bales down below the door. It actually was quite fun; everyone tried different tricks, attempting to beat the one performed just before their turn.

When the hay sort of flattened out, we decided that we needed more cushion, so Jeff and Billy went to grab more straw. After removing one of the block shaped pieces, Billy noticed a small batch of three newborn mice. Right away he called all of us over to the scene.

Jeff and Billy were the kind of insensitive boys who don’t really feel that anything that isn’t human has feelings or feels pain, so they decided to have a little more fun. Luckily for Jeff he had brought his pocketknife, if he hadn’t, I don’t think he would’ve gotten as much pleasure as he did. Before they did anything, Jeff took his knife and cut a big square out of the opaque plastic roofing that looked practically new. After doing so, Billy and he grabbed the baby mice and climbed up on the roof. I’m not sure what the reasoning for getting on the roof was, it seemed as though he was trying to make a sacrifice to the blood god or something; he was kind of weird like that.

As they sat up there and discussed how they were going to mutilate the helpless rodents, Justin and I stood down below the roof and watched through the transparent roof. We could see everything up there. I guess I was a little young at the time, and I didn’t really understand why they were doing it, but I stood there for the moment and waited. A minute or two later I saw Jeff situate to his left side, kind of holding the mouse in his left hand and keeping himself propped up by his left elbow. I couldn’t quite tell what was going on, but I was soon to find out. In one rapid motion Jeff took a swift slice to the head of the mouse, completely decapitating the mouse. Before the head was totally off, we heard a loud kind of soft squeal come from the baby as the rose red blood ran down the roof. I couldn’t believe what he had just done. How could anyone be so cruel?!?

In a flash I jumped into the pile of hay and ran home. All I could think about was how the poor siblings had to sit there and watch their brother or sister or whatever it was get brutally murdered by an evil madman with a thirst for helpless blood and all I wanted to do was punch him and make him feel what that poor mouse felt.

I don’t know what lesson or moral came out of this experience, maybe it was life and fear of death. As kids we often miss everything in between the lines of reality, where true life takes place. Real things could happen to anyone, it doesn’t seem that way when everything is sugar coated. I think this experience enabled me to look at things differently kind of eliminating as mush falseness as possible. Reality is a scary place if you don’t play your cards right.