Never Forgotten

Dear Diary, I killed a man once. I was 6 years old, and to this day I have never told a soul.

Mitchel leans back against the barn wood headboard, eyes closing with an exhale. Instantly he is taken back to his Grandparents farm, like he has been every day for the last 32 years. A gentle fall breeze blows overgrown hair into his tear filled eyes as he looks across the field. The last of the suns warm rays slice through the unharvested flax and fall on his ashen face as he watches the scene in front of him. A scene no 6 year old boy should ever have to witness.

‘No, not today’ Mitchel mutters as he sits up suddenly. ‘I can’t do this today.’ He rolls his shoulders to relieve some of the tension, gently closes the diary and slides it into a nearby drawer with another deep exhale. ‘Not today.’

**********

Mitchel hears the squeal of a young boy out in the kitchen and smiles. ‘Joey must be up finally.’ he whispers. He shakes off the remnants of the memory and heads out of the bedroom.

Joey runs to him and Mitchel scoops him up giving him one of their famous squishy hugs. ‘Happy Birthday Buddy! I can’t believe you are 6 years old!’

‘Daddy, did you see the giant horsey?!’

‘Horsey?’ Mitchel questions with a smile.

‘Yes, it’s as big as me Daddy! Come see!’ Joey squeals again as he drags his Dad by the hand into the kitchen.

Sure enough, there in the middle of the kitchen is a rocking horse, almost as big the 6 year old boy climbing onto it. Miranda standing beside it, beaming with pure joy as she watches her son’s excitement. Miranda’s eyes meet Mitchel’s and they share a knowing smile. He has been asking for a horse since he was old enough to say ‘horsey’.

Another time, another 6 year old boy, another horse, flashes through Mitchel’s mind and he has to steady himself with the nearby table. Miranda notices the change in his face and comes to him. ‘Mitchel?’ concern quickly replaces the joy on her face. ‘Mitchel, whats wrong?’

‘I’m fine.’ Mitchel replies quickly. “Who’s hungry? I think we could all use some cowboy pancakes for breakfast.’ He says in a terrible western accent which sends Joey into a fit of giggles.

‘With strawr-berries and whippy cream.’ adds Miranda, as she curtsies and tips an imaginary hat.

‘And some cowboy, orange juice!’ Joey adds between snorts of laughter.

**********

Dear Diary, let’s go back to where it all started.

Every year my family would spend September at my Grandparents farm. Dad would help with harvest, Mom would help finish up the garden and us kids would explore every corner of that land from sun up until sun down. The freedom we had there was incredible, something we didn’t get in the city.

Mammi would pack us lunch, kiss our foreheads and tell us to be back at sundown when the men came in for supper. Every day as we crossed the yard heading for the treeline she would shout out to us ‘You better have an exciting story to tell when you get back.’ Every day we did.

The rolling hills, the towering trees and the winding creek never failed to take us on the adventure of a lifetime. There was an ancient barn to explore, and row upon row of hay bales to jump and hide in. We would capture spiders and snakes, skip rocks, build forts and lay staring up at the never ending sky dreaming about what tomorrow might bring. As the sun lowered over the horizon we would head back with excitement, ready to tell our tales, but even more eager to hear the stories Grandad would have from his day in the field.

Mitchel pauses and his eyes drift closed, his pen still poised on the paper, ready to write the next line. The smell of sweet hay meets his nostrils as if he is laying in a mound of it. He can see the glitter of dust in the air as the sun filteres in though the dirty barn windows. The memory is so vivid it is as if he is 6 years old again.

**********

Joey skips ahead of Miranda and Mitchel as they head to the car.

‘I can’t wait to see Papa and Nana!’ he sings. ‘And the horsey!’ His smile gets even bigger.

‘First, a nap in the car.’ whispers Miranda as she straps him into his booster seat. ‘So you have all the energy you need to go exploring like your daddy used to!’

Joey snuggles down into the seat and is sound asleep before the end of their street. Miranda reaches for Mitchel’s hand, ‘You ok babe? You seem a little distracted lately.’

‘Ya, I’m fine.’ Mitchel focuses on the road ahead of them. ‘I just can’t believe Joey is 6. I remember being 6.’

**********

Dear Diary, here I am back at the farm. I brought my boy. He’s 6, just like I was.

It’s crazy to think that I have never told anyone what happened that day. I guess I keep telling myself that if no one knows, then it never really happened. But it did happen, of that I am certain, and it’s my fault that Grandad never got to finish another harvest.

My family had just arrived at the farm to the smell of Mammi’s mouth watering fried chicken. Each kid lined up on the porch for our annual ‘inspection’ followed by hugs, turns, gasps over how we had grown and more hugs. Grandad had a grin all the way from one ear to the other. We knew he had something exciting to tell us, but we had to wait until after supper.

The table was alive with stories from school and summer holidays. Mom and Dad talked about work and how the city was changing. Us kids vibrated with the knowing that tomorrow our farm adventures would begin. Grandad, who looked like he was about to explode, couldn’t take it any more and told us to all go to the back porch for the surprise.

We could hear them before we could see them. The steady pounding of hooves racing across the field towards Grandad and his pail of oats. Horses! Oh how us kids had dreamed that one day the farm would have horses! This was going to be the best month ever.

Just then Mitchel heard Joey wake up. Must be the unfamiliar bed, he never wakes up. Mitchel tucked the book back in his bag and went to snuggle in with Joey. ‘I want to go see the horsey Daddy.’

‘In the morning Bud, we’ll go see the horse in the morning.’

**********

Dear Diary, if only I had listened to Grandad.

It’s just that I was so excited, I had only ever dreamed of seeing a real horse, and there they were only a few steps away. Surely it couldn’t hurt if I just snuck over for a minute. I peaked in the kitchen to find everyone caught up in animated conversation and I quietly crept through the back door. My heart pounded in my chest as I crossed the yard. I’m not sure if I was more scared of getting caught or excited to see the beautiful creatures in front of me.

I could hear the horses shuffling and snorting as they settled in to their stalls for the evening. I was so close now that I could smell them and my feet started moving faster. As I rounded the open end of the barn I tripped, knocking over a stack of buckets and sending them noisily skidding across the floor. Those poor horses, they weren’t expecting that and the both reared back, neighing wildly. I tried to steady myself but my movements scared them even more and they reared again. One bolted out of the barn, as the other was coming down she caught her front hoof in the stall boards. This sent her into even more of a panic and she bucked fiercely trying to get free. I ran, as fast as I could, but not towards the house to get help. Instead I ran the other way, too scared to even think, and hid in the field.

Grandad came running when he heard the commotion. ‘What in the world? Ok girl, it’s ok, let’s get you out of there’ He talked to her in his steady, calm voice as he approached, trying to settle her, but her eyes were wild with fear. She reared again, this time dislodging her hoof but losing her balance. Grandad tried to get out of the way but had nowhere to go and the huge horse landed on his chest, crushing him into the ground beneath them. After struggling to her feet she ran from the barn breathing heavily and tossing her head as if trying to shake off what just happened.

Grandad lay motionless on that barn floor for what seemed like forever. With my voice caught in my throat and my body frozen in place, I stared straight ahead through the flax with tears streaming down my face as Mammi ran across the yard screaming for my Dad.

Mitchel slowly closes the diary and holds it to his chest with a deep sigh. As much as it hurts, it brings relief to write it down. This secret that has haunted him for most of his life. Maybe one day he will be ready to talk about it.

**********

Joey bounces across the kitchen floor after breakfast. ‘Now Daddy! Can we PLEASE go see the horsey now?’

‘Sure Bud, let’s get Papa and go see the horse.’ Mitchel says as he ruffles Joey’s yet to be brushed hair.

‘Yee-ha! Mommy, I finally get to go see the horsey!’ Joey yells as he twirls past Miranda on his way to the back porch and pulls to his boots.

As they follow Joey to the porch Papa puts his hand on Mitchel’s shoulder and gives it a gentle squeeze. ‘I remember another boy about Joeys age who was crazy about horses.’

‘Papa, was it Daddy?’ Joey eyes his grandfather, then his dad as he wriggles into his sweater.

‘It sure was Joey.’ he replies with a conflicted look. ‘Your Dad used to talk about horses every time we came to the farm to see his Grandad, just like you do.’

‘Daddy! You never told me you love horsey’s too!’

Mitchel looks down at the innocent little boy, trying not to show the pain raging inside him. ‘Ya Buddy, I used to love horses when I was your age too. I don’t think about them much anymore though.’ In truth, Mitchel thinks about horses every day, just not the same way he did as a boy.

‘Slow down Joey. Wait for Papa before you go in the barn.’ Mitchel hollers as his excited son sprints across the grass.

‘Hurry Papa! I see them!’

Mitchel’s heart surges as Joey gets close to the fence. Thankfully he stops, prancing in place while he waits, then grabs Papa’s shirt as they go through the gate. Mitchel follows, pausing to let his hand rest on a weathered plaque just inside the barn door ‘Always loved, Forever missed, Never forgotten’

He hears Papa from across the stall ‘Why don’t we get them some oats Joey. That’s their favorite snack.’

Mitchel hangs back as Joey approaches the horse, oats in hand, excitement turned to timid fascination. ‘Wow, are they ever big.’ he watches, eyes wide, as the horse nudges the bucket and takes a mouthful. ‘Can I pet him Papa?’

‘Sure you can, just go slow.’

Once the oats are gone and Joey scratches each horse ‘just once more’ behind the ears, they head back to the house. Joey grabs his Grandfathers hand and looks up at him in utter adoration ‘Papa, thank you for getting a real horsey.’

**********

Dear Diary, Always loved. Forever missed. Never forgotten.

I haven’t been back in the barn since that night. I could never get myself past the gate. It took Joey, my own son, and his 6 year old innocence to help me face those fears.

It sounds crazy, but Grandad was in there with us today. I could feel his excitement, the same as it was so long ago when he couldn’t wait to show me his new horses.



I went back to the field too, after settling Joey down for the night. It was around the same time and I could feel the last rays of sun on my face just like I remember. As I watched the horses settle in for the night, the dust swirled around the door into a heavenly figure and I swear I heard his voice. For the first time in 32 years I felt peace wash over me and I finally understood that it wasn’t me that killed him.

Mitchel closes the diary one last time and sets it on the bedside table. He reaches over to pull Miranda close and as she melts into his arms she mumbles sleepily 'Joey loves it here, I wish we could come more often.'

'I think I might just be ready for that.' Mitchell whispers and gently kisses her forehead.