It was the yard that won me over. We had been searching for a house for the last several months and honestly, I was tired. The curb appeal of this one was just okay – it wasn’t until I stood at the back door, looking out over the back yard that my just heart melted.
The yard was large and inviting. There were no trees or shrubs, only a lone shed tucked in one corner. Directly behind the yard was a small farm, boasting a season of corn. Quiet and secluded, with the exception of neighbors on each side, the yard could easily host family barbeques and badminton games. I was done looking. The rest of the house didn’t matter – I planned to spend most of my time in that wonderful yard.
As my husband spoke with the current owner, I wandered onto the back deck, wanting to take a look at the house from the farthest spot of the yard. I walked across the lawn and felt at home. I got back to the fence, right next to the cornfield, and turned. The house, which a few moments ago was just “okay”, looked fabulous.
I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, taking in the smell and quiet of the afternoon. I noticed the quiet. Unlike our current home, which sat off of a very busy street, this yard was tucked away. On the other side of the farm was a wooded area, home to deer and fox I was sure. The lack of sound was peaceful and relaxing. I could lose my soul here.
As I turned back to the farmland behind me, an incredibly cold blast of air enveloped me. Although it was the last day in October, this air was unseasonably cold. As a matter of fact, it felt like something from last winter’s February ice storm. Just as I started to shiver, the corn started to rustle, at first gently, then with a sense of urgency, as if someone was walking … no running … through the field. The sound was coming directly at me but I didn’t see anything. Was it my imagination or could I hear someone breathing, as though running? I stepped back from the fence and in a second, the gate shook with a loud “whack” as if something hit it full force. I stood still, waiting to hear more sounds, but heard nothing else. I walked back to the house and forgot the sound. Or so I thought.
We moved into the house in the dead of winter. And we found that the previous owners had some ‘idiosyncrasies”. They moved all the toilet paper holders to different locations in the bathroom. They painted several rooms a strange color, like the blood-red choice for the kitchen. But the neighborhood was warm and inviting, and was close to our jobs and stores.
Summer came and went, with lots of cookouts and games. We purchased a large water bounce house and my nieces and nephews jumped and ran until they couldn’t jump any more. We camped out in the yard.
The summer slipped away into fall, and before we knew it, Halloween was upon us. Halloween night was clear and mild. The neighborhood children were out in full force. Our neighborhood goes all out for this holiday. Decorations start appearing as early as October 1st. Adults and children alike dressed for the occasion. The neighborhood was full of laughter, screams, and scary music.
On my last Halloween, we ran out of popcorn (our treat of choice) early. So we flicked off the porch light and proceeded to discuss what we were going to have for dinner. We all decided on something fun – grilled burgers. I set about getting the burgers ready and went out to light the grill.
As I was arranging the charcoal in the grill base, I felt the same cold sensation I had that day when I first saw the house. But this time, the cold stayed longer. I looked around and saw … nothing. The yard, at this time of night, is almost pitch-black. Far away from any street lights or neighbors, it is almost impossible to see anything in the yard beyond the deck. I heard the corn rustling again, and what sounded like someone running across the yard. I strained to see in the darkness and saw nothing. Absolutely nothing. The wind was knocked out of me and suddenly I felt light and free, as if my soul had been released from the confines of my body …
Carl had been watching the vultures circling the corn field behind his house for the last hour. He was contemplating what to do about the paint colors in some of the rooms in his new house. What kind of person paints their kitchen blood-red anyhow? Just as Carl was taking a sip of his beer, one of the vultures descended right into the center of the cornfield. Carl figured that whatever the vulture had been watching for the last 60 minutes had finally passed away. He watched intently, waiting for some type of movement in the corn, but he saw and heard nothing, as if the vulture had just disappeared. Carl downed the last of his beer and stood up from his chair. Having just moved in, he hadn’t had time to shop for Halloween candy. He wanted to make sure he had time to get inside and turn off the outdoor lights before any of the Treaters started calling.
The wind had picked up and a lone piece of paper that had been blowing around above the corn settled into Carl’s yard. He crushed his empty can and scratched his head. It was time to head in. After putting the lawn furniture away, Carl stooped to pick up the piece of paper that had blown into the yard. It appeared to be a page from someone’s journal. The neat, simple handwriting made him think the journal belonged to a woman. The page began, “It was the yard that won me over.” At that moment, Carl heard rustling coming from the direction of the cornfield. Believing that he was finally going to see what the vulture had been stalking, he walked toward the back of the yard toward the fence. The unseasonably warm breeze washed over him. When he got to the back gate, he heard something running through the cornfield. That was no vulture. Whatever it was, it was running. And then, Carl felt an overwhelming cold come over him.
The house on Concord Drive never re-sold, the kitchen never repainted. And to this day, the cornfield that invited in so many people, is still there