The Old Barn

One of the strangest things to ever happen, happened in an old barn. You might have heard the tale when you were younger, or perhaps you remember it much differently now, but I will remind you of the true tale now. Our story begins long ago, back when there was peace in the world and animals could talk, in a place far away in an old barn, on an old hill, in an old land. It was a dark and stormy night; leaves were whipping over the meadows and the rain splashing into mud and over frog backs. The sky flickered in lightning and constantly rumbled and groaned in thunder.

It was the sort of storm that brings out strange things, strange creatures. And that is why it is best to stay indoors when they come raging and howling over the land. But two boys had not cared for their parent's advice and ticking fingers, and were running around in the wet darkness, jumping in puddles, throwing mud, and howling with glee at every lightning strike. This was all very stupid of them, as you will see.

For, as they were running around in the meadow, playing outside the dilapidated barn, two bright yellow eyes were following them from the dark forest.

When the boys finally got tired and their clothes were soaked from the rain, they ran up the hill and pushed open the lofty barn doors. The barn was rotten and not at all well tended to, much due to its owner disappearing under mysterious circumstances some years earlier. As you can imagine, quite a few stories were circulating in the small village down the hill, trying to fill in the gaps of what might have befallen the old man. As some of the more grotesque explanations were quite convincing, and thereby successful in their fear-mongering, the barn had been left largely to itself. On the other side of the doors grew a tall hall of rotten beams and cobwebs and the sound of flapping wings. The floor was covered in grey feathers and withered stacks of hay.

The boys threw themselves into the piles of hay gratefully and laughed and their stormy shenanigans; listening to the rain pounding urgently on the roof and the drip-drop of those wet visitors that slithered through the mouldy beams. But after a little while, they noticed that another sound was weaving itself into the soiree. Someone was knocking on the barn door.

This was very strange indeed because, as I already told you, folk in those days would never venture outside in a storm and the boys exchanged confused looks. But the knocking grew louder and firmer, and in the end, the boys could no longer pretend it was a play of the ear by the heavy rain. No indeed, they soon had to admit that someone was really out there, in the rain, outside the barn doors, asking to come in.

They tip-toed over the frail wooden doors and pushed one open only by an inch. 'Who... who's there?' asked the eldest boy while the youngest pressed his ears up against the entry.

But no one answered. And so, feeling relieved, the two went back to the hay and wrapped themselves up nice and cosy. But just as they had relaxed into their hay beds and allowed themselves to giggle about being spooked, they heard the knocking again.

They looked at each other with wide eyes but again snuck across the cold floor to squeak the barn door open by a hand. 'Who... who's there?' asked the eldest boy while the youngest dared to peek through the black gap rectangle into the storm.

But no one answered. And so, after a little while, they scuttled back into the hay and laid down. But this time, they did not chatter or laugh, but rather listened to the storm howling over the roof and pushing at the walls. And truly, there there was someone knocking on the barn doors again.

The boys were properly frightened now and held hands while they snuck back to the barn doors and open one by a foot. 'Who... who's there?' asked the eldest boy while the youngest pushed the door a little further so his head could peek out into the darkness.

But again, no one answered. And so, the eldest put his hand on the youngest shoulder to walk back into the hay but -- 'Look!' said he and pushed the barn door open wide, so that the eldest boy could see.

And out there, on the wet grass, laid the most beautiful, shimmering golden cloak, folded with care. And on top of it sat a letter and a little white mouse.

To be continued.