Jonathon Crosby’s Journal

June 7

My wife told me I should start journaling.

June 8

Ham for breakfast. Rabbit stew for lunch. Dinner will be steaks.

Work was fine. No broken bones.

Cabrón = bastard

June 10

Long day at work yesterday. Plowed nearly 1,000 miles.

Diego told me that my hair looked “less lucious” than it did yesterday. I’m still bald.

June 11

At Amy’s suggestion, here’s my attempt at a poem:

Hot days, cool nights.

Long fields and plow lights

Dirt for miles, dirt on my shoes

Blades like diamonds cut through the booze

Swirly view of waving branches

Remind me of soil when wind catches

June 13

I let Amy read my “entries” as she called it. She said I should try to be more descriptive. I don’t consider myself to be a very descriptive man. Makes me wonder again why I even started this again. Work is hot. The heat is almost unbearable. Rick gives us fans, keeps ice water close, but man. And them shitty tractors never even got the chance for air cooling.

My mom used to tell stories bout men going crazy under a heat like this.

June 14

Another 100 damn degree day. Summers like these make me wonder bout starting a job like Amy. Cushy remote gig. But God knows I can’t do customer service. Back when I worked at the Pickle Burger down in Albuquerque, I damn near caught a legal case every summer. Dealing with the heat outside and the heat inside, and the heat from some smartasses mouth. That little girl worked there, can’t remember her name but damn did she talk back. She never let me get away with anything.

June 21

started working nights. The weathers better but the vision ain’t shit. And I swear I see shit moving outside the fields. Some quick and lite footed. Amy says it’s sleep deprivation. The boss says, get back to work

June 23

Brought my journal to work since I’m a dam zombie at home these days. I miss dinners with my wife. She says she’ll make them later so that I can have breakfast while she eats dinner. I didn’t object but I won’t make her do it. The woman needs to sleep too and I told her that

June 24

I’m getting sleep. Feeling crazy though watching these fields through piss dim headlites. Deer? Nah. Cayote? Nah. Bunny’s? Too dam big.

And Rico and Lars say, yeah man we saw some movin too, and still no one believes us.

June 25

Got better headlights. Sleepin past the sun gets easier too.

June 26

If journalin is supose to make me feel better then let this be it.

Them things is lanky and tall like a deer. But too fast, fast like everytime I try to catch a real glance it’s gone. Stands on four legs and got no bulk from what I can tell. Still can never even catch a whole look at one.

Then I think I hear tapping from outside. My gun been staying in my lap these nights.

Here's another poem.

Body like spiders

Eyes like torches

The way they watch turns us into fighters

Much death does touch the soil

Reaped by beasts whose blood is spoiled

Nights as black as burnt up coils

Prime time for the beast to pounce

Until their dead I can’t rest for all the time their life counts

June 27

I haven’t dreamed in dam near a decade. And last night there I was— in the field. Naked. Axe in my hand. Looking like a real sexy vampire hunter, but them things ain’t vampires. Vampire would show its face. The thing grabbed my ankle and pulled, and im draggin thru the mud like a dogs toy, and then it starts shaking me, and I slam into my tractor and wake up dam near pissing.

Amy thinks I should visit a doctor.

June 30

A body was found in the field last night.

It was found after my plow gave it a good shearing

August 4

Amy says I need to cope with what I saw

The body in the field

The cops are looking into it but I know they won’t be able to find shit

I know what put the body there

I been talkin it over with the other men on the field, they all seen it too. It ain’t in my head, I know that for sure. But it don’t look natural. Don’t feel natural either.

Boss says I should take some time off work. But they’d put some fresh meat on my part of the field. I can’t do that, not while those things are keeping watch.

August 5

I tried to shoot one last night.

The thing is, they stand real far away, miles away from the machines, real close to the tree line in the East. And the West, where Diego been planting seeds

The view is starting to make me feel like a threatened dog. They don’t let me look, don’t let me get close, just watch until I can feel spiders crawl up my spine, then I really try to catch one in my eyes and it’s gone. As always.

Felt like a little boy holding a toy.

Maybe it is my imagination. Ain’t shit I’ll be going to the doctor for, sorry Amy.

August 6

Amy tried to get me to talk about it again.

What more is there to say?

I wake up at 5pm. Go to work at 7. Start to plow. The body is covered up with dirt. My blades cut through it but not all the way, and I stop my tractor and get off

The face was chewed clear off, and not from my blades

I saw its bones, its empty eye holes and square teeth.

The blood turned the dirt red for days after.

August 7

Roadkill. In the fields. How it gets there? Boss say birds, we say those things

Ain’t no main road for miles out here, and ain’t much traffic on the way, but the field is littered with dead animals like nothin I ever seen before.

I kept my distance. The smell of rot and iron reminded me of what we found before.

August 8

I felt fear tonight. When I looked up from my controls to see a cayote jump in front of my tractor. The roadkill is bringin em in.

I’m starting to get real pissed off now

August 9

Started thinking bout why I started this diary again.

Amy an I got in a fight way back a month or two, bout how I need to learn to feel and not just see or sum bullshit like that.

Well I been readin up on new words and I feel somber and erratic. I got about one more long night out here with them crazies before I turn into one myself

August 1978

2:13AM

My tractor just stopped in the middle of the field. Ain’t no maintenance problems for this old beaut I know that.

I haven’t seen the beasts all night, but I seen eyes lurking from the tree line and in my rearview

I think one of them’s hunting me