I had nightmares on nights when mum didn't read or sang to me before bed.
That night, she was too tired so I helped her into bed and kissed her forehead, just as she did to me most nights. She chuckled and patted my cheek, whispering, “You're a good son. God bless you and bless your Daddy in heaven.” She was fast asleep, snoring softly when I turned down the lantern and tiptoed out of her room.
I crawled into bed and tried to read my picture story book when I heard a twig snap outside my window. I peeked from a corner of the curtain and saw a gaunt man limping across the moonlit yard towards our barn. My heart jumped in fear.
Was he a thief?
He wore a torn brown coat, muddy boots and a hat with holes in them as though a dog had chewed it. His beard reached his chest while his clothes hung from his thin frame. He held a battered canvas bag to his chest.
Mum and I had lived alone since Daddy died about a year ago. She rarely used the barn and I was too afraid to go play inside it. What if he stole Daddy's farm things?
My heart hammered in my chest as I stayed up most of the night watching the barn. I dozed off by the window when I heard a creak sound. The man sneaked out of the barn again with his bag and walked away.
“Mum, do you ever go into the barn at night?” I asked over breakfast.
She stared at me over her cup of tea with a strange look. “Why would I?” I shrugged and stuffed my mouth with scrambled eggs and gravy. Something stopped me from telling her. Maybe the man won't ever come to the barn again.
I was wrong. The next night, he came and entered the barn but never approached the house. By dawn, he was gone again.
For a week, the strange man came and disappeared. I was too afraid to go into the barn but felt this calm that Mum and I were not alone.
One night, a crash sound at the back of the house woke me up. My lantern was off and my room was dimly lit by rays of moonlight through the parted curtains. Heavy footsteps thudded outside the house, making my heart race.
I hurried out of my room to Mum's and shook her awake. She was trembling as she held my hand, grabbed Daddy's shotgun from the wardrobe and warned me to hide under her bed. I was not to come out no matter the sound I heard until she came for me.
Then we heard a crash from the barn and gun shots that shattered the quiet of the night. Mum grabbed her lantern and ran outside. I followed her too, her earlier warning forgotten because even though I was nine, I had to protect my Mum.
The strange man stood beside Daddy's old workbench, tying up two men who sat on the ground back-to-back. They groaned, bleeding from their temples while another man laid dead beside them, a gunshot wound on his chest.
Mum and I froze. And so did the strange man. He raised his hands. “Don't shout. It's okay,” he said.
“Who are you?” I asked, stepping around Mum to get a good look at him.
“Good Lord!” Mum whispered fiercely and I turned to look at her. “Bateman, is that you?”
“Yes, Ma'am,” he said, his gaze on the ground as though he was ashamed. “I didn't mean to scare you.”
Mum drew close to him, her eyes wide and sheening with tears. “I thought you were…dead.”
Bateman hung his head. “I was too ashamed to show my face. When I heard these idiots at the tavern down town boast ‘bout how they'd rob a young widow on Witte Street, I suspected it was you.” He shook his head and finally looked at her. “I had to come and save you. I couldn't save your husband then but this, I can do.”
“You knew Daddy?” I asked wanting to be a part of the conversation.
Bateman looked at me and nodded. “He was a fine man, your Daddy. He gave me a place here once. Said if I ever needed somewhere safe, the barn was second best to a home.”
“So that's why you've been staying here since last week.”
“What?” Mum asked, staring at me in shock. “You knew?”
I nodded and shrugged. “I didn't want to worry you. And he seemed to be no trouble.”
She sniffed and gestured toward the house with a smile. “Come inside for some coffee before the sheriff gets here.”
“Thank you, Ma'am.”
I hope you enjoyed reading this short piece. It's inspired by the Freewrite #dailyprompt phrase "second best”.
Thank you for visiting my blog.
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