What we lost now is found

Today is the day! As I leave my nice warm bed and head to the window. Today is the day that I clean out the old barn on the back of my property.

I brought this cottage two years ago and for the last three months I have been procrastinating about cleaning it out. One because it is old, like I mean really old. The sides are collapsing and the red paint on the outside is fading and peeling. The roof has seen better days, especially as it’s got some serious cave in happening.

Moving through my morning routine, I make my way downstairs. Just as I hit mid way, I smell the fresh brewed coffee and hum with excitement. Moving straight to the coffeepot, I grab my favorite mug and fill it up. Taking my first fortifying sip, I smile and move towards the screened back door.

“You sure this is a good idea?” my brother Blake asks as I move out onto the veranda.

“Has to me done,” I say as I take a sip while pulling on my work boots.

“Not really. We could just have a whoops moment and trip and fall with an open can of gasoline and a match,” Blake says while smiling at me.

“Mmm, I will be sure to mention that type of accident to the firefighters that come to put said accident out,” I say as I stand and finish the last of my coffee.

“Come on, Sage, this place is finally looking good. Surely we can just get rid of this monstrosity?” Blake asks.

“What would our Nana and Papa say?” I ask, seeing Blake with his head down I know he knows exactly what they would say.

“Fine, let’s do this then,” Blake mutters as he stomps down the back steps.

I know how he feels. When Nana and Papa died and left us this place, it was a shock. It was a bigger shock to see how badly in need the house was. But that was nothing compared to the inside of the house. The trash, dirt and dust were something out of an archaeology find. It took both me and Blake nearly a year and a half to get the house live-able and now that we had it was time to move onto the barn. I remember such good time out in the barn, feeding the animals that called it home and playing hide and seek with Blake and Papa. Now as I walk towards something that brought great fond memories, it was hard to see it looking so poorly.

“Do you think that they just decided this place was too much and left?” Blake asks.

“Don’t know,” I respond while walking up to the Barn doors. Our grandparents were declared legally dead two years ago and three years before that they went missing. They found their car out front of the house running and Nana and Papa were nowhere in sight. Search parties were created, and they looked everywhere. But nothing then after three years the state finally called and informed us that they were now declared legally dead and that they called the search off. It was a lot for Blake and me to take. We couldn’t imagine why they just disappeared. Upon learning about us inheriting the house, Blake and I gave up our lives in the city and move back to the country. We planned to open an Animal Rescue on the property and farm stay holidays. Blake wanted to open with in the next year where I believe it may take a little longer than that. While Blake and I don’t have to work, we like to stay busy. The inheritance we got from our parents was enough to keep us until our children were old and grey, but Blake and I didn’t like touching the money unless we had to. Even then we paid it back. Our parents disappeared as well when Blake and I were only little, only five, maybe six. We barely remember them, but we remember the life Nana and Papa gave us.

Taking a deep breath, Blake and I pull the barn doors open and look at the chaos inside.

Between the dust, boxes and clutter, it was a miracle that the barn doors shut at all.

“What the hell is this?” Blake asks as he looks at me.

“No idea,” I mutter, but take a hesitant step forward.

“This looks like a hoarder’s wet dream,” Blake says as he stares at the junk blocking our way into the barn.

“You mean it looks like a hoarder and a dump had babies and this was the result,” I say, reaching to take down the first book.

“Not wrong,” Blake mutters, grabbing another box.

Blake and I woke tirelessly for hours, with no end in sight. Dusk is falling and with that comes the end of daylight and working hours. We barely made a dent in the barn's entrance. Shutting the barn doors, Blake and I make our way back to the house.

“Your turn to cook dinner tonight,” Blake says as he runs up the stairs, laughing.

“You little….. I cooked last night,” I call.

“I said it first Sage, just do as you 're told,” Blake calls down laughingly.

“You little booger,” I mutter while washing up in the kitchen and getting the tomato soup and grilled cheese sandwiches ready. Sticking the soup on low, I may my way into the laundry room for a quick shower and clean up. Just as I was finishing up, I hear Blake walking down the steps.

“Dinner will be ready in a minute,” I call, while quickly getting dressed.

After eating dinner Blake and I watch a little tv before retiring to bed. Every night I stand at my window.

“Where did you guys go?” I ask, the gentle breeze blowing through the window. Part of me doesn’t want them to be gone, but I also know that they would never have disappeared on their own. Maybe they didn’t leave on their own. Maybe someone took them.

The next morning Blake and I are elbows deep in cobwebs and dirt and still making little progress.

“Seriously, how much shit can old people have?” Blake mutters as another box tumbles down and smacks him in the head. I watch as Blake whines and moans, as that is the third box to hit him this morning. While funny, it is frustrating that most of the boxes are empty.

“I think we should burn it?” Blake says while rubbing his head/

“Why? Because this is too much hard work? Or because the boxes are attacking you?” I laugh.

“Both, all,” Blake mutters

“It is strange why there are so many boxes with nothing in them.

As night comes, we pack up and go back to the house. Four the next four days we continue making little progress as the amount of junk is outstanding. We have taken a lot of the paper, cardboard boxes and have had made a bonfire to get rid of the rubbish to eliminate more time and effort in cleaning up the mess. Blake has taken quiet a few loads down to the tip. After four long days, we have finally made headway and have been able to enter the barn.

“Do we keep going?” I ask, “Or do we start in the storeroom?”

“Keep going, it doesn’t look that bad,” Blake says.

As we continue to clean and remove the rubbish, I come across a book that has our names on it. I turnover an old drum and take a seat.

“Blake, look at this,” I say as I open it up.

To my dearest Blake and Sage.

I guess our time is up, and if you are reading this; you are now the proud owners of the Anderson Ranch. I know you will both do us proud.

We left the Ranch to you both as you used to love it when you lived here. I know lives can get busy, and I know you are probably shocked that we are gone. But please remember that everything we did we did to make you children have the best lives possible.

We would like to apologize for what we are about to say to you both.

Your parents didn’t die in an accident. You Papa and I decided we could give you are better life instead of travelling all the time so we made them leave. I know you are probably upset and angry about that, but I want to be clear. WE KILLED THEM! They were never going to let you go, and neither were we. We buried them under bay five in the barn.

We aren’t sad about what we did. They would have ruined you kids and what type of life is gallivanting around the world. You need a stable home and loving family around you. I am sure that this is probably a shock but, in all honesty, they wouldn’t leave you with us, so we made them. Papa says that if you want something bad enough than you have to take it, and that is what we did.

Anyway, a couple of years ago some investigator came around asking questions. Your fathers’ parents were asking questions again and wanted to know what happened to them. We went off the story we rehearsed and he went away. However, a few days later he came back with the in-laws. After dinner we took care of the matter and they are all buried bay six.

Now, we really thought that; that was the end except the nosy sheriff asked questions and well, that lead us to thinking that we need to fix a few things. For a couple of months, we stored a lot of useless junk. Papa started the car and climbed through the Barn window on the back side. We didn’t want questions, and we didn’t want you both to hate us while we lived. We are in the storage room.

We aren’t sorry we loved you; we are sorry we almost got caught.

Love you most,

Nana and Papa