The Night the Barn Owl Cried

THE NIGHT THE BARN OWL CRIED

BY CRYSTAL KEESY

THE NIGHT THE BARN OWL CRIED

With my kind, it is said when the barn owl cries, a miracle is bound to happen. That night, we had two.

The night was cold, a winter night. The moon shined high in the sky, full it was. A slight freezing breeze blew from the north, making small snowflake tornados on the snowy ground.

The barn hand, “Andrew,” was the first to arrive. He was a short, stocky man, and he wore jeans and a heavy flannel jacket. Andrews takes good care of us horses.

My mother was lying on her side in her stall. Hay was scattered everywhere, the light was dim, and all the other horses were awake with worry. Their heads sticking in and out of their stalls, and they whined and watched Andrews open the stall door to my mother’s stall.

Andrew kneeled to her and petted her long grey neck, “SShhh, girl, you will be a right.”

“Mr. Andrews?” Mrs. Taylor whispered to him with concern; she had long blonde hair in a braid and her hair laid over one of her shoulders. Dressed in a long white silk nightgown with a white coat over it. A fuzzy white hat covered her ears, and men’s plaid slippers covered her feet.

“Mrs. Taylor, it won’t be long now.”

“Is she okay?”

“This is normal. We’re lucky we got here when we did to help her through.”

Mrs. Taylor smiled, “can I go in?”

“Yes, mam. I am sure she would like that.”

Mrs. Taylor kneeled to my mother’s side.

“Hi, Molls. Everything going to be okay” Mrs. Taylor took a deep breath and sat closer to my mother. “I, myself, have been through a few of these. I know the pain is hard, but you will soon receive a miracle. The joy it will bring, my dear.”

Mrs. Taylor softy rubbed my mother’s neck, trying to comfort, support her.

Andrews looked at my mother, “I see the feet, Mrs. Taylor. It won’t be long now. Come on, Molls. Push, sweet girl.”

The barn aisle door flew open, bringing in a freezing breeze from the outside. In a swift moment, a beautiful barn owl swept into the barn. The barn owl’s wingspan was four feet wide, with beautiful light brown feathers and a white face. He flew around the barn, circling the aisle way. The horses in the barn became restless, and then the barn owl landed on a beam above my mother. His heart-shaped face and beady black eyes peered at my mother.

“Beautiful!” Mrs. Taylor said

“Yes, mam,” Andrews said with amusement.

Mr. Taylor stumbled into the barn after the barn owl, and he smelled of whisky, bottle in hand. He wore an expensive fur coat over his fancy black suit.

“WIFE,” Mr. Taylor yelled, leaning up against one of the stall doors, taking another sip of whiskey.

Mrs. Taylor looked at Andrews with fear in her eyes.

“I am so sorry, Mr. Andrews. This will only be a moment,” Mrs. Taylor slowly stood up and stood by the stall door for a second. Taking in some deep breaths before leaving the stall, shutting the stall door behind her.

The Aisle to the barn was freezing from the light wind that blew in. Snowflakes flurried through the opening, landing and melting on the dirt ground. Mr. Taylor was Twenty years senior to Mrs. Taylor. He lit up a cigarette and took a drag, looking at his wife with discuss in his eyes. The horses whined from their stalls, feeling the tension between Mr.Taylor and Mrs. Taylor.

“There is going to be a baby,” Mrs. Taylor said softly, her voice shaking.

Mr. Taylor grabbed Mrs. Taylor’s arm, “I accept you to be in my bed when I get home. Not out here doing God knows what.”

“I am sorry, I just thought.”

“You thought!” Mr. Taylor laughed and shook Mrs. Taylor. and continued, “You are not supposed to think, you are my WIFE, you are mine, I tell you what to do!” He squeezed his fingers together, making a fist, and punched Mrs. Taylor in the face. Mrs. Taylor fell backward and landed on the dirt aisle ground. She quickly covered her face with her hand, blood dripping from her mouth and nose. Her eyes started to swell, with tears forming from her eyes. She lightly bit her lower lip and held her hand out to her husband in protest, “Please don’t.” Mrs. Taylor pleaded, “Please.”

“Mr.Taylor?” Andrew’s said firmly

“Oh, the night and shinning man in armor. Hmm. Is that you? Andrews.” Mr. Taylor said, slurring his words.

“Mr. Taylor, please leave the lady alone.”

Mr. Taylor laughed, “Ahh. She is my property. I can do anything I like to her.” Mr. Taylor kicked Mrs. Taylor in the stomach to prove his point. Mr. Taylor watched his wife on the ground in pain, curled up in a ball, and laughed, “God, I hate her.”

Andrews kneeled to Mrs. Taylor and pulled her into the stall where my mother was giving birth. He did it swiftly for an older man. Mr. Taylor leaped for Andrews. Andrews pushed Mr.Taylor away and shut the stall door, leaving my mother and Mrs. Taylor in the stall.

BANG, HOOT, BANG. HOOT, BANG, HOOT. The barn owl spread his enormous wings after his cry. The barn owl flapped his wings back and forth a few times and then flew out of the barn into the dark of the night. Mrs. Taylor watched and then squirmed on the ground to my mother’s side.

“Molls, you are almost there, push sweet girl, push.”

Mrs. Taylor grabbed the foal’s feet and gently

pulled, and my mother pushed. In one swift moment, the foal was born.

“Mr. Andrews! Mr. Andrews!” Mrs. Taylor yelled in horror. The foal was lying lifeless in her lap, “Mr. Andrews!” she screamed again, tears running down her face. “HELP, PLEASE!”

Andrews opened the stall door and rushed to Mrs. Taylor’s side. He held the foal’s head, moving the foal’s head up and down, up and down, the lifeless body of the foal lying on the ground. Andrews did not give up. He kept moving his head up and down over and over.

“Come on, breath!” Andrews yelled

The foal opened his eyes a few short seconds later, the blood started pumping. His legs began to move and, the foal picked his head up.

“There you go,” Andrews said, picking parts of the sack off of the foal, “Congratulations, Molls, you have a healthy colt.”

Mrs. Taylor hugged Andrews, “How did you do that?”

“Birth can be quite a shock to the foal, you have to get the blood pumping.”

“It’s a miracle!”

Mrs. Taylor and Andrews watched the new colt and my mother meeting for the first time in silence. A beautiful bond was being formed. The colt was jet black, with long legs. He started to feed from his mother.

Mrs. Taylor’s eyes widened as she just remembered something of importance, “Mr. Taylor?” she whispered to Andrews. They shared a long-unspoken look of regret and then relief.

“Mam,” Andrews whispered back.

That was the night I was born. Two miracles happened that night. I lived on, and so did Mrs. Taylor.