The Old Green Barn

Perhaps Jonathan could have waited another ten minutes before making the final decision to demolish the old green barn on his family's small farm. Why his grandfather decided to paint this now emptied barn green, he had no idea. He thought it was time to let it go. The years growing up here have been good to Jonathan. He was the only son to have not joined the family's farm business in some capacity. He had dreams elsewhere, but throughout his life, he kept coming back to the farm. This is where he befriended Sir David, the family chicken. His imagination needed to start early, as the nearest childhood school friend was over a mile away. Sir David, in Jonathan's head, spoke like the British icon Sir David Attenborough. The pig, Piggy, spoke as Ms. Piggy, the muppet Jonathan laughed the most at.

This was his safe space. His fortress. His grandfather and father would never bother Jonathan if he ran to the barn to get away from the fighting going on in the kitchen. The arguments about money, the land, the angry scary men in suits, the war, his sister running off to get hitched; the barn was the only place no one bothered him.

The conversations he had with his small barnyard companions were ones of great joy, wisdom, and inspirational at times. Who would have thought that their goat, Meathead, would know enough about mathematics to help him with his homework? Who knew that their family dog, Shirley, could teach a teenage Jonathan about Shakespeare, Doyle, Dumas? There were times where Jonathan didn't want to do anything else but be in that barn and talk to his friends. Jonathan's only other normal friend was Christopher. They were the same age and went to the same school. He was the only person who believed he could have these conversations with the family livestock. Just the thought of that word, livestock, Jonathan hated it. It was interesting to him though that not all could hold a back-and-forth discussion. He tried to start the topic of Star Wars and Star Trek to the new cow, but Jonathan just thought she wasn’t the talking type. She was sold a month later, and from the profits, one of Jonathan's sisters was able to go to college. The same happened to Petty, the largest pig Jonathan has ever seen. After naming him, he sat down and tried to explain the rules and mechanics of Dungeons and Dragons to Petty; even with the help of Meathead and Orwell, the barn owl; Petty simply laid around and ate slop. He was sold at the local farm auction a month later, and Jonathan's parents were able to afford a very nice trip to San Diego, California to watch their middle son graduate Marine Corps bootcamp.

Jonathan looked at the bulldozer ready to demolish the old green barn as this was the only thing on the property that needed this type of treatment. All of his brothers and sisters were off living their own lives, they didn't want to deal with the estate after their parents passing, so it was up to the youngest, and perhaps the most responsible, Jonathan. He placed his hands in his pockets and pulled an assortment of nuts and berries. A small squirrel gingerly climbed his pants, gently to his shirt, and rested on his shoulder. Jonathan casually began feeding Secret, his new friend.

"Good for you old chap. I'm glad you are taking this monumental leap forward. It was getting old and it is just better to tear it down, sell the land, or build your own abode."

"Yeah, but it still kind of stings. I didn't want to completely level the barn, but it wouldn't make any sense to have it around when we don't have the need for it anymore and no one wants to take care of the property." Jonathan whispered.

A series of squeaks came from Jonathan's shoulder.

"Well you still have the memories, and that is what is important rather than some old green barn."

Memories. Jonathan shook his head and was thankful of the memories. Especially when his friends warned him about the angry men in suits. Odd, scary men. They wore sunglasses even during the night with no moonlight. For years they showed up to the house, asking a million questions to Jonathan's mom and dad. He was never told to run off into the barn while they "discussed business" at the dining table. He did that all on his own. Jonathan could sometimes see through the window, the men in suits wouldn't sit down. They would stay stoic as the rest of the family talked and paced around the house. Orwell would comfort Jonathan the best way an owl could. She would swoop down and nestle on Jonathan's arm as he sat and waited for his older brother to come get him when the men in suits left. Sir David would stand guard at Jonathan's feet while Piggy eased to Jonathan's vacant side. "It will be alright." They all told the young boy. "It will be alright." It was, until one night the men in suits wanted to talk to Jonathan.

There was no opposition from Jonathan's father. The men in suits walked out from the back door, but Jonathan's mother, on instinct, ran to block their path to the barn. The men did not brake stride and politely nudged the begging mother to the side. This was something that was odd and strange to Jonathan, viewing from the open barn doors. These were scary men, these men in suits, but they acted gently towards his mother. They approached the doors and spoke in a language that was unfamiliar to Jonathan. Luckily for him, Orwell spoke perfect Latin. As the men conversed, Jonathan new better not to reveal he knew what they were saying. Until they discussed the possibility of taking him with them. Jonathan stood and protested.

“You are not taking me away.” He boldly stood and said while clinching his fists.

The men in suits looked at the young boy. They smirked, returned to an emotionless demeanor, and walked into Jonathan’s place of refuge and joy. The men in suits would have made away with Jonathan if it weren’t for his recent and newest friend. A wolf, Arnold, sprinted in and stood between Jonathan and the men who would take him away. The men in suits stood in place, stared at the wolf as it slowly approached. They gave up at their attempt to leave with the young boy. They fixed their postures, properly straightened their ties in perfect unison, turned and exited the green barn. They ignored the family, now gathered holding each other in grateful thanks, some weeping tears of relief.

Jonathan continued to feed Secret as they held a conversation. Jonathan waved for the bulldozer to start his demolition.

“You know what Secret? I do miss this place. Maybe I shouldn’t sell the property just yet. The house can use a little fixing, but it’s still a beautiful home. My grandpa sure did know what he was doing with the house, too bad for the barn though.”

Secret, with a cheek full of nuts and berries. “Oh, that’s grand!” Secret chewed between sentences. “Imagine how your son would love it here. Fresh air, new scenery, and new friends.” Secret swallowed his snack and gently nudged Jonathan’s jaw.

“Perhaps.”

Jonathan turned to walk towards his childhood home. The years have been gracious to the two-story farmhouse. He envisioned his family roaming around the spacious land. He walked calmly as Orwell III swooped and perched herself upon Jonathan’s shoulder.

“So are you coming home for good?” She asked in the most elegant of voices.

“I think I am.” Jonathan said opening the back door allowing a small cluster of animals in the house. All politely excusing themselves as they enter. All retreating to a portion of the home to clean and tidy up. A wolf pulls on a towel tied to the refrigerator and carefully places a bottle of beer in his mouth and places it in Jonathan’s hand. Jonathan reached for his phone and searched for barn blueprints.

“I think I am.”