Thursday, May 31, 2007

May 31, 2007 - Entry #8

May 31, 2007 - Entry #8

*This diary is intended to be an official record for the world as to what is happening to me and my family and what (although unknown at this point) is to be. -- for an accurate reading, please begin with Entry #1*




The woman’s name is Claire and she had been driving for days with her twelve-year-old son…



When the two of them stepped from their mini-van and headed toward the barn, I didn’t know what I was going to do. The old guy had locked the shed to keep whoever was coming from thinking anyone was in there. I was suddenly more curious than worried. Why would a woman with her son want to see me and how the hell did they know I was at a farm in the middle of nowhere?

The old guy opened the shed and we stepped outside. Claire outstretched her hand to me and introduced herself and her son Jules. I couldn’t help notice that she wouldn’t take her eyes off my son.

The sun had started to warm the day and the old man broke a moment of uncomfortable silence by inviting us into the house for coffee and bagels.

Inside, it was quite noticeable that Claire was very tired. I asked where she was from and she said 'Knoxville, Tennessee'. She seemed quite anxious and stressed and wouldn't sit. She paced the room, constantly looking out the window.

I asked if someone was after her.

No reply.

Then I noticed her son and mine sitting together in the living room, quietly talking to each other.

I was starting to get very creeped out.

The old guy asked her to 'please sit' and have some coffee. She refused and asked if she could go outside and look around. Before the old guy could open his mouth she was out the door.

We quickly joined her on the porch and watched her search around, becoming more agitated by the minute. She turned and suddenly headed over to the barn.

At the barn she searched as if she lost something. When the old man and I caught up with her she asked if he had a ladder. He said ‘Sure, I got a few’.

She told him she wanted a tall one that could reach the top of the barn.

The old guy lowered his brow and before he could open his mouth she spotted one and raced over to it (along side the barn). She struggled as she lifted one end and pulled.

The old guy caught up with her and told her to calm down and if she promised she wouldn’t 'kill herself' she could climb to the roof from inside the barn.

He led us inside to a built in ladder, leading up to a hatch. The three of us inched our way, it was a tricky climb but we made it up and out onto the roof.

I was amazed at how far I could see. Farmland stretched to the horizon. Fresh green fields growing lush from the large amounts of rain the county has been getting.

Claire hurried along the sides of the barn, shielding her eyes from the sun with one hand as she scanned the area. The old man yelled for her to slow down (he didn’t want to clean up the mess if she fell and if she didn't calm down she'd have to get off his land)

She spotted what she was looking for and halted.

I joined her side as she pulled out a folded up paper (letter size) and handed it to me. I unfolded it.

On the paper were two circles joined by two lines and hash marks along the sides of the lines.

She said ‘My son drew that four days ago’.

She then pointed down to the field of alfalfa stretching out from the back side of the barn.


My mouth hung open at the same image, pressed down in the plants.


So we’ve been at the farmhouse since. I’ve heard her whole story and have been documenting everything. It’s frightening how similar our stories and lives have been.

This morning, she said my wife is probably dead...


Just like her husband.



.

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