Caught Up or Set Free

I dug all day until the night fell and by the time I finished I had a duffle bag filled with stuff I found including the bones. I know they were bones because I eventually found the skeleton head. I did not panic when I found it because at that point I was tired and already had my suspicions. I did not start out digging either, I was there kneading the soil around the barn I had just destroyed and burned, that’s a whole other story that I already told [The Farmhouse Web], when I stumbled across some hard objects. One thing led to another and here I am with the duffle bag of stuff and bones. I filled the hole I dug and completed the kneading. I was able to plant some unknown seeds that I had found in the barn prior to destruction. I hope they grow and prosper to cover and erase all trace of a barn that once stood.

I am leaving for college in a week and was doing all the last minute arrangements as I am going to the East Coast. My family and I are from the Midwest so this will be a much needed growth period for me. The last minute arrangements included going through the duffle bag. When my parents and I leave here we will not be coming back again, the house will most likely be rented out and my summers will be filled with whatever college girls do and who knows, maybe me living on the East Coast will become permanent.

The next morning I wake up to the sun’s heat rays hitting my face and a rumbly belly. I sit up on the bed contemplating the day, time, and year when I notice the duffle. That is my mission for the day, but first and more importantly, breakfast. I smell coffee as I head downstairs and hear some housework being done so I know my parents are awake. Ever since my Grandma passed and the Will was disclosed, they have given me my space and privacy to fulfill her wishes. We have always been a tight knit, loving, good at communication family, so I did not expect any interference until I asked for it. When I reached the kitchen, I see my Dad sitting at the table with his coffee mug in hand,

“Morning Dad. Is there breakfast or should I make for everyone?”

“Morning honey...make for everyone? Must have been a good sleep you had. Your plate is in the microwave.” Yes! I think to myself, I really did not feel like making food, but would have if needed to.

“C’mon Dad, I have fixed a bowl of cereal or two for you and mom before” I laugh when I say this because it is half true. I did in fact serve them cereal one time, but as a joke before I revealed the buffet I had made them. My dad is laughing too,

“Yes I know, we have a Michelin starred chef for a daughter” We are both curled up with laughter now.

“As much as I would love to stick around and cook all your meals, I’ll be in my room going through the last of Grandma’s stuff today. That’s where the real fun is.”

“Oh I would bet it is. Let me know if we need to hide any bodies” My dad continues to laugh, but I stop because, well, I do have a skeleton to hide, but he couldn’t know that...I give him an I’m watching you look and scurry back upstairs with my plate of food.

Does he know? There is a strong possibility he COULD know, my mom as well. Nahhh, my family is not into hiding bodies...but someone is. I grab the duffle and throw it onto my bed while I scarf down my breakfast sandwich. I did try and decipher the piece of paper I found while eating, but it was so old and tattered, I could not make out the full document only that it was a certificate of some sort. Next, I reach my hands into the bag without looking and the first thing I pull out is a small 5x7 old canvas with a painted yellow flower on it. I know this flower, it was Grandpa’s favorite...not a daisy, definitely not a sunflower, not a daffodil either, a marigold! It was so pretty and simple. On the back of the canvas was a small poem,

Roses are red Violets are blue But none of those are your favorite flower So this Marigold is for you.

That’s sweet. I put it aside. The next object a bowtie, then another cassette tape, a T-shirt, a small book of collective poetry, a few old photos that you can no longer make out the people, and finally some rocks I assume are more bones. This is odd and not at all mysterious. I decided to put the bowtie, tape, T-shirt, and poetry book back in the duffle to give to my mother. I throw away the old photos and all “the small rocks” and keep the Marigold painting to hang up in my dorm along with the other keepsakes that I will be taking with me. I keep the skeleton head along with some big, obvious bones in a drawer in my room until I decide what to do with them before I leave.

The next couple days are pretty normal with packing and quality time with my parents and the farmhouse before I leave. The last day at the house, my mom decides to cook a going away dinner while my dad and I pack the car.

“Hope you have and done everything needed before you leave. Anything last minute you could think of? We still have time to make a run.” My dad suggests as he is carrying the last bags into the car.

“No, I’m good with supplies, but there is some last minute stuff I have to get rid of that I want to discuss with you and mom after dinner.” He doesn’t turn around or stop what he is doing, he just says “ok”. I don’t know if his behavior is strange because he knows what I know and what I have or if it’s normal and I’m being slightly paranoid. Either way, I am telling my parents about the bones I found mainly because I can’t bring myself to just throw them away. I feel like I’m throwing away a person and I need my parent’s approval before I feel comfortable doing so.

I’m about to head downstairs for dinner, but I am doing one last go around of my room to make sure it is clean and empty. The only things left are the duffle bag, the linens, and my outfit for tomorrow, oh and how could I forget the bones. They are in a separate plastic bag waiting for their fate, but one can say their fate has already been met.

The smell coming from the kitchen was immaculate. My mom made some yellow rice, pernil, green beans, mac and cheese, a garden salad and for dessert homemade chocolate pudding, brownies and ice cream. Some of it she packed away so I can have some food the first few days of college then after that I am on my own.

“This is what I am going to miss the most: the smell of the kitchen. Mom, you are amazing. I love you” I give her a hug and kiss on the forehead then sit at the table with my dad, “You’re not so bad either Dad” We exchange smiles.

“Honey, we just want to say how proud we are of you, especially being so courageous going away to a big city university. Don’t ever let anyone or anything discourage you, only you can stop you.” I love my mom’s mini inspirational speeches. Dinner was perfect and it made me realize how great my life has been up to this point and how much better I am going to make it. Dinner is finished, dishes washed, table clean except for the dessert spreads,

“Mom, Dad, something I need to discuss before I leave. It’s about Grandma’s Will and the barn.”

They said nothing like this was expected so I continued,

“As you know I searched and burned the barn. Mom I gave you the box of cassettes and I kept a few minute items. The morning I was kneading the soil…” and I continued to tell them everything, leaving out some other item details because I deemed them irrelevant. They were motionless as if I froze them with the words I said; my dad staring at me with his chocolate pudding spoon mid air and my mom stuck in her stare. I started waving at them because at this point I said all I had to say,

“Earth to my parents.”

“Yes, yes honey…” My mom breaks the trance, but my dad is still in slow motion, “so you found bones?” my mom enunciates each word slowly and carefully, “...in the dirt that was under the barn.” She turns to look at my dad and tells him something with her eyes that instantly snaps him out his trance and he boldly blurts out,

“So you found your grandfather?”

“I found my WHO?!” My mother slaps my dad on his arm and he flinches,

“What I do? She’s the one who found them.”

“You ease that information to her, you just don’t state it so matter of factly.”

“I found grandpa?!” my voice trails off into a confused whisper. I cannot believe what I heard.

My dad tells the story since he apparently has the confidence to,

“You see honey, to put it plainly, Grandpa’s wish when died was to be buried under his barn. He did not want to be in a cemetery or cremated, he built a door on the floor of the barn and progressively dug his resting place. When he died, Grandma abided by his wishes. You were never meant to find him. Or were you? Did Grandma send you on this treasure hunt?”

“No, no, she just wanted me to go through the barn and do what I pleased with the contents. The dirt looked so grimey when I was done, I decided to knead it. So I just happened to stumble upon his remains?”

“I guess so” They both said in unison

“So what do I do now? Am I cursed?” They laugh.

My mom says sincerely, “No, you’re not cursed, you’re not a graverobber or anything like that. I do think you should do whatever you please with the bones since you’re the one who has them even if that means tossing them in the trash. Do what your heart tells you to do.”

And that is exactly what I did. I bury the skeleton head back in the ground but I dig under the house to reduce the chances of it being found again. My college years are the best years of my life; a time of discovery, growth, courage, and many challenges. I did visit my parents during holidays and summers, but I decided to live on the east coast permanently. I visited the farmhouse once, and by once I mean drove by about two years after I finished university during a road trip with friends and we never stopped, but I did slow down to take it in. I purposely took that route because I wanted a glimpse of my childhood, a reminder of what led me to this exact moment. As we approach the farmhouse, I can’t help but notice all the beautiful garden work. A front yard filled with roses, tulips, morning glories, and right where the barn used to be, there’s a bush of flowers. My heart skips a beat because if it’s the seeds I planted, those seeds blossomed into beautiful marigolds.