by Marla Meyers
Chapter 5
When Marissa got out to the barn, about six-thirty, she put the dead daisies back in the coffee can and placed them in the middle of the barn, as they had been left by the stranger the previous night. She could not, however, lift the bales of hay back in the pile the way they had been before. Knowing the stranger would probably notice this, she decided it would be best to have a new hiding place tonight. Looking around, there wasn’t anywhere else to hide.
Outside. Yes, she would have to wait outside, she decided. The stranger always came into the barn from the woods and retreated in the same direction. Marissa decided to wait on the other side of the barn, farthest from the woods. After he was in the barn, she would come through the bam door, block it, and make him confront her. Well…it sounded good, anyway.
Wondering if she could maintain her courage upon his arrival, she re-checked the shells for the shotgun. Three. Not believing that she could ever shoot anyone, even under the worst circumstances, she realized that she must make the stranger believe otherwise. She was the one in control.
As seven o’clock neared, she felt her stomach begin to burn. What if he didn’t show up? What if he brought friends? Maybe he was perfectly harmless. Her mind was racing from one direction to the other. Still there was the light. She couldn’t stop thinking about the light. It was so different from anything she had ever seen.
From outside the barn she could see the house. The light in the front yard, that comes on automatically at dusk, had just come on. Standing there looking at the house, for the first time, she thought it looked like the house in the movie, Amittyville Horror. At that particular moment, it looked eerie. As featured in the move, it had the big front porch, the little attic window, etc…It almost looked like it could come alive at any minute. Telling herself that she had never recognized the house to resemble the Amittyville Horror house prior to tonight, she tried to envision a cheerier picture, such as Mamma working on her flowers in the yard, she and Paul playing. Yes, a much cheerier picture.
A movement in the woods broke her concentration, sending chills up her spine. It’s him, she thought. The stranger was there. Standing very still, she heard the barn door open. Again, she wanted to just forget the whole thing. Instead, she very slowly inched towards the barn door.
After pausing a few seconds, with her flashlight in one hand and her gun in the other, she stepped in the entrance of the barn. Gathering courage, she quickly shined the flashlight to the middle of the barn, raised the shotgun and yelled, “Don’t move!!”
Expecting to see the stranger changing out the daisies, she was shocked and relieved that she saw nothing. Lowering the gun, she began to shine the flashlight around the barn. As she shined the flashlight towards the stacked bales of hay, where she had hidden the first night, she saw him. He was sitting on one of the haystacks that she had toppled to the ground earlier that day. He appeared emotionless. Not hidden, he seemed neither frightened nor alarmed at her presence.
Quickly she raised the gun and pointed it straight at him, having a hard time holding up the big shotgun with one hand, letting it rest slightly on her hip, still pointing the flashlight with the other hand.
“Who are you and what are you doing in my barn?” she demanded, voice trembling.
No response. She felt as though he was staring straight through her.
“I asked who you were. I’ll call the police,” she said louder and voice trembling even more.
Still no response. He just kept staring at her.
“Can you hear me?” she questioned, voice less shaky but with an aggravated tone.
Maybe he really couldn’t hear her. Maybe he was deaf or something. No…he was toying with her. She didn’t expect this. Confused and unsure how to proceed, she stared back at him.
The stranger continued to sit quietly on the bale of hay. Marissa continued to stand in the barn doorway, shining the flashlight in his face, while trying to keep the shotgun balanced carefully on her hip, parallel to the ground. Feeling somewhat safe with a gun on her hip, she couldn’t help notice his muscular body, still clothed only with a pair of overalls. Without a shirt on under his overalls, his dark chest hair protruded from around the lining. She was wishing she could see him better.
“Should I call the police or just shoot you?” she asked sarcastically, chin raised, wanting him to believe that she did not fear him, as she surely did.
Then…a response. He smiled ever so slightly, obviously amused with her lack of criminal element.
She grinned slyly back, wanting to see a response from him again…anything.
Nothing. He sat staring emotionlessly at her, again.
“You are in my barn. This is my barn. Why are you here? Are you in trouble? Maybe I can help you?” she pleaded with him.
He just kept staring through her. His smile had been short and quick, seemingly having caught him off guard. She wondered how much longer she could balance the gun on her hip, while holding the flashlight pointed in his direction. Not confident enough to move or lower the gun, she tried to get a better grip on the flashlight. While doing so, she dropped the flashlight, losing sight of the stranger. She quickly reached down and picked it up, halfway expecting him to have jumped up and tackled her to the ground. Shaken up, she hurriedly shined it back in his face. He hadn’t moved, nor did he seem as if he was going to.
“Please ” she said, almost pleading, as her emotions began to take control. She felt a tear roll down her cheek. She was frightened. But, she continued to hold the gun parallel to the ground and pointed right in his direction. They were about eight feet away from each other.
Then she heard his soft, deep voice. “Don’t cry.”
Surprised and relieved that he had finally spoken, she attempted to wipe the tear from her face, again dropping the flashlight.
“God!” she yelled, aggravated with herself, and quickly retrieving the flashlight…again.
She began again, pronouncing each word with clarity. “I am out in my barn, in the dark, with a strange man that won’t talk to me. A man that keeps coming here, bringing daisies and a glowing light. You are scaring me. Please…” He tilted his head slightly, never taking his eyes off her, almost in a comforting way. He seemed truly saddened that she was afraid, rendering him less frightening to her.
There was no response for a few seconds. He seemed to be studying her. Then, he again spoke softly, “I only bring the daisies.”
“What?” Marissa asked, unsure that she had heard him correctly.
“I only bring the daisies. The light is always here.”
He looked very matter-of-fact. Any emotion he had recently revealed, she could no longer see.
“Who are you?”
“Joshua.”
Lowering the gun only slightly, she asked, “Why are you coming out here, Joshua?”
No response. He just stared at her. She waited. Then asked again, “If you are in trouble, maybe I can help you or…” and her voice trailed off, as he suddenly scooted off the bale of hay and began walking towards her. Startled at this sudden movement, she re-adjusted the gun on her hip, making sure it was pointing straight at him, her heart racing. As he approached her, gun now touching his stomach, he looked into her eyes. She stared back at him, unsure how to proceed. Then he slowly and gently pushed the gun aside and walked past her and out of the barn. Too stunned to move at first, she stood there for a second, before turning to face the woods where he was heading.
“Wait! Where are you going? I want some answers. Please…” she yelled out, as he was nearing the thick grove of trees where she knew he would soon be out of sight.
Before disappearing into the woods, he turned slowly around and facing her said, “We will talk tomorrow, Marissa.”
Then he was gone into the woods.
She stood there a few seconds and then with legs shaking, she headed back to the house, never releasing her grip on the gun or the flashlight, turning and looking behind her as she quickly walked up the pa
th to the house.
She nervously changed and got ready for bed. Knowing better, she popped the cork on her bottle of wine. With glass in hand, she walked around to each window and door, marking sure everything was securely locked up. She turned the TV on, uninterested in what was on…she needed the noise. She kept the shotgun at her side.
Sleep was out of the question for now. She continued to drink. There was something about this Joshua. Something very different. He seemed so serene, with a certain calm about him. Her passionate side found him mysterious and longed to know more about him. Her logical side, the side that usually won out, wondered if he was a psychopathic murderer that preyed on small town women. His manly body, complimented by his boyish good looks, made her anxious, yet fearful to see him again.
Continuing to drink her wine, at a rather rapid pace, she felt herself tiring, still clinging to the shotgun. She felt herself sinking into the couch, nearing sleep, when suddenly she opened her eyes, remembering something
He had called her by name.
She knew she didn’t tell him her name.
Chapter 6
Feeling cold and slightly hung over, Marissa awoke on the couch, with the shotgun still by her side and an almost empty bottle of wine on the coffee table. Besides having kicked off her shoes, she was still completely dressed. She looked at her watch. Nine o’clock.
She headed to the shower.
As she showered, she kept thinking about Joshua, glad to have a name associated with him. Surely, if he was dangerous, he would have attempted to get into the house. He had to know that she was out here alone, and windows were easy enough to break. Finding comfort in that thought, she dressed and walked out to the barn.
The sun was shining, and it was beautiful day. With nervous anticipation, she opened the barn door. Sure enough, there were fresh daisies in the coffee can. He had come back after she left. Why? Why these daisies? As she leaned down to look closer at the flowers, she didn’t feel like heaving the can across the barn this time. Instead, she just sat down on the ground looking around the barn.
The sunlight was shining through the little barn window and it felt peaceful. Feeling like a kid again, she laid down on her back right where she was. As she stared straight up through the tiny cracks in the barn roof, she thought about Daddy and Paul, and the time they had spent making repairs to the barn. Paul would have enjoyed spending a few days out here, she thought to herself. He loved this place, too.
Caught up in her thoughts, she jumped to a sitting position when she heard her name.
“Hello Marissa,” said the same soft, deep voice that she had heard the previous night. Joshua was standing in the barn looking down at her. Startled, she rose quickly to her feet.
“How do you know my name?” she asked, trying to keep a stern look on her face.
“Don’t most of the people in this town know you?” he responded, not seeming concerned about the stern tone of her voice.
“You are not most people. You are a stranger that keeps showing up in my barn!” she snapped.
Joshua looked away from her. He stared out the barn door. She suspected he was going to disappear into the woods soon, as he had done so many times before. Intently watching his every move, she noticed a scar running across his neck. Not a bad scar, but noticeable. Not sure whether to instigate conversation, she decided to wait for him to make the next move.
Nothing. He stood, gazing out the barn door. Afraid he would indeed jet for the woods, she broke the silence, asking him, “Where did you get that scar?”
He looked at her for a very long time before he answered. “I ran into a barb wired fence when I was younger.”
“Oh,” she replied softly, thinking to herself how painful that must have been and relieved that a conversation seemed to have ensued.
After a few more seconds, Marissa walked over and sat on top of a bale of hay. Joshua, slowly and cautiously, walked over and sat down beside her. In the daylight, she found him less threatening. But, still with her guard up, she asked, “Are you going to tell me what you are doing here?”
He smiled slightly, complimenting his natural good looks. In the daylight, she noticed his big brown eyes, his square jaw line, the way his hair gently swooped down across his left brow. He was handsome.
After a long pause, he began to speak. “Yes, Marissa, I will,” he said, just sitting looking at her.
Marissa felt herself almost trembling, as she felt his leg barely brush up against hers. She could feel him staring at her. She didn’t look at him, but stared at the ground.
When she finally glanced up at him, he was indeed staring right at her. She quickly looked away, unsure why she was reacting this way. She was suddenly nervous, trembling.
He must have sensed her awkwardness, asking, “Are you nervous, Marissa?”
“No…of course not!” she snapped back, embarrassed that he had noticed, and quickly she rose to face him.
“What are you doing here?” she asked sternly, chin again raised slightly.
He just sat staring at her. Then he slowly reached up and touched her face. Surprised that she had allowed it, she slowly backed up.
He continued to sit there, just watching her.
Now, realizing she was almost whining, she asked, “Are you going to hurt me?’
He looked at her in a concerned way, before saying, “No, Marissa. I would never hurt you. I’m sorry if you were frightened, but I don’t think you are as frightened of me anymore?”
“Why!?” she yelped, “because I don’t have a shotgun pointed at your face. That doesn’t mean I’m not frightened of you It means you caught me off guard!”
Then she realized she really wasn’t afraid of him. There was something, beyond his good looks that made her feel safe with him. He was mysterious, no doubt, but his face looked so trusting, so vulnerable. It seemed impossible not to believe him.
He again reached up and touched her face. This time she didn’t stop him. Standing up, he placed his other hand on her face, pulling her close to him. Marissa felt her body tremble as it never had. As he kissed her, all previous thoughts as to why he was there were diminishing. The embrace seemed to last forever, she thought, not having the strength, nor desire to end it.
As Joshua withdrew from the kiss, she knew that she should slap him…or something. Instead, she leaned over and kissed him again. Extremely caught up in the moment, she knew she would not stop what was happening. It had been a long time since she had felt passion, and she longed to have this stranger hold her tightly, to kiss her again
Therefore, she was surprised and disappointed when he withdrew from the kiss again. He gently moved her aside and headed for the barn exit. Stunned that he was just walking out like this, she stood silent, watching him. As he opened the barn door, he turned back, asking, “See you tonight?”
Then without waiting for a response from Marissa, he was gone.
She stood there for a minute. Then, she paced quickly back and forth across the barn, questioning what had just happened, and realizing that she knew no more about Joshua than she had before. She ran for the barn door.
She looked towards the woods and momentarily thought about running after him. She sat down on the grass outside the barn, her body still trembling. She reached up and touched her lips, shutting her eyes and remembering his gentle touch, the passionate kisses.
It was with that thought that she was prompted to go into town and call Becka. As the phone rang, she felt guilty about what she knew she was going to do, but somehow desperate to do it.
“Becka Marley,” she heard Becka answer on her private line.
“Hey,” Marissa said nervously.
“What are you calling so early for? I haven’t even made reservations yet. I thought you were going to call tonight?” Becka asked, sounding a little confused.
“Well actually, that’s why I called early. I might be
coming home tomorrow after all,” she told Becka, feeling terrible, knowing that she was
not going home tomorrow and ashamed that she wanted Becka not to come to the farm.
“Oh, really?” Becka asked, surprised. “Well, great. We’ll catch a movie or something when you get here then.”
Really starting to feel bad, Marissa stumbled around saying, “Well yeah that sounds okay, but I might not be home.”
“Mel…what’s the deal? You sound funny. I thought you just said that you thought you would be home tomorrow?”
“Yeah I probably will But, I might not. That’s why I don’t want you to make any plans for us. You might just have to cancel them.”
Becka, obviously thinking this was odd, didn’t say anything.
“Okay…Becka?” Marissa asked, now worried that she had hurt Becka’s feelings. “If I’m not home by six o’clock,” she continued, “why don’t you make other plans,” she said, knowing Becka probably wasn’t buying any of this.
“Marissa…do you want to tell me anything? If you feel like you need time by yourself, I can certainly understand that…” and she trailed off.
“No…no…no Becka, it’s not that. I’m just not sure what’s going on right now. I might be able to meet with the lawyer tomorrow morning and it might not be until Monday, like I had originally told you, so I’m not real sure when I can come home, Okay?” she asked, hoping to sound more convincing.
“Okay,” Becka answered, still not sounding convinced.
Marissa wanted to tell Becka the truth, how she was lusting for a strange man that had been coming to the barn each night, how she hoped for more than a kiss tonight and maybe for the rest of the weekend. But, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would sound selfish…and maybe a little ridiculous…or dangerous. She didn’t want to take a chance that Becka might talk her out of it. For once…she wanted to live on the edge a little. Besides, Becka would only worry. She would tell her about it, she knew, when she got home.