10 - In Pierce's barn.
joneworlds@mailbox.org
I saw something upsetting yesterday, something
that I can't tell the meaning of yet.
To get a little grocery money or whatever, Pete
and I sometimes go out to the farms in Boyner down
on the south slope by the river. There's a couple
of old guys and gals out there we know who were
friends of Pete's dad, and they are fine to hire
us for a day to do some chores and stuff like
that. It costs us some gas to get out there unless
we can hitch rides, but overall it's usually a
pretty good deal for us, whether they pay us with
money or food.
Anyways, the other day we were out at old Jim
Pierce's place, and he wants us to haul away some
junk from inside this ancient fall-down barn on
the older part of his property. He hasn't even
been in there for years, he says, but he wants to
start using it again and so we've got to empty it
out so he can start fixing it up. So Pete goes off
to bring around our truck with Pierce's trailer,
and I go to open the padlock on the barn door, but
it's already broken open. That's not so good. With
a bit of dread, I swing open the door enough to
have a look around. I shine my flashlight around
for a bit, and I nearly drop it in shock at what I
see.
Standing in the lofts, the stalls, and about every
corner of that building, must be about two hundred
or more gnomes. They are all just standing there
facing me, hands at their sides and staring at me
with dead-looking glassy eyes, like they were
garden gnomes or something. Somehow unhealthy
looking. Maybe smaller than other gnomes I've seen
around these parts?
"What are you all doing in here?" I ask, even
though I know we can't understand each other.
Not a one moves. Maybe a few of them blink.
"Are you all... okay?"
Nothing. I back away and close the door.
We go back to the yard by the shop and tell Pierce
that Pete's having seizures again, and so we had
better get him home right away, and we're sorry we
can't get this job done today. He understands, you
boys take care now, okay? We mask up and drive
home.
I usually think of the Olds as thriving in this
world, or at least on their way to that, maybe
even to do good bit better than we ever did. Not
what I saw today. That was more than poverty, I
think. I don't know what that was. Did Pierce have
any idea? Something is wrong.