The barn loomed ahead of them, demanding her attention. She couldn’t take her eyes off it. The clouds had come over, banishing the sun, and she was pretty sure it would rain in the not-too-distant future.
‘Is it still cool if I head into town?’ Cade asked.
‘Yeah,’ Jena replied, still fixated on the building, which looked so much like the one that had burned. ‘I think that’s the best plan. I’ll make a list for you and then you can get going. Take as long as you need.’
‘You’re the best, babe.’ He kissed her on the cheek and dragged her past the barn and up the steps, as if he couldn’t wait to get off the property. Hell, maybe she should be going with him. It would be easier than facing the barn.
Who needs closure anyway?
She could barely focus as she made the list; she didn’t know if it was all they needed but Will wasn’t around and Rose was fast asleep. The whiteboard they’d kept on the fridge where they’d written up things to buy was gone, but without anyone else to think about, Rose must have had no reason to keep that around.
‘There, that should do it.’ She finished writing ‘chocolate’ and then passed him the list. ‘I’ll see you when I see you.’
Jena was eager for him to be gone, now, eager to dispel the gnawing in her stomach that seemed to grow with every minute he was still here and she was still waiting to see the barn. She walked him to the front of the house, grabbing the car keys from the hook beside the door, and her credit card from her bag, before passing both to him. ‘Have fun.’
Cade raised an eyebrow and planted his feet. ‘You’re in a hurry to get rid of me. What’s up?’
Jena bit her lip, then sighed. ‘Fine. I’m going to go into the barn. I feel like it’s time to face it.’
Cade frowned, glancing from the barn to the car. ‘And you don’t want me to stick around for that? Because I can.’
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘I need to do this on my own. I’ve got no idea what it will be like and I just … I need to do it on my own.’
He kept his gaze on her, as though weighing up if she were being honest with him, and then he shrugged. ‘Sure. Makes sense.’
Jena’s shoulders relaxed, though a small part of her wished that he’d forced her to let him in on this. ‘Take it easy, mind those potholes.’ She forced a grin and then watched as he headed down the steps, got in the car and drove away.
Jena turned her eyes to the barn, sitting there with clouds looming behind it. Taranaki was completely covered by them, but she could still feel him there, behind that thick wall.
It wouldn’t be long before it started to rain. She should go now, or she might get drenched. She’d almost rather get drenched. No, she’d definitely rather get drenched, but she had to face this, and she had to do it now or she was going to puke. She couldn’t look at that building for any longer and not go in. It was as alluring as it was repulsive, but maybe if she went there and faced the past, she could start living her future.
She took the first step, the second, then hit the ground at a run and crossed to the barn door. Her hand hovered over the handle, and then she heard a squawk behind her. She spun, pressing her back against the door.
A single magpie stood in the dirt of the yard. It opened its beak and croaked at her again, the sound grating against her ears. And then another magpie dropped to the ground beside it, adding its voice to the first. She heard a whoosh, and the sky darkened but it wasn’t clouds, it was birds, blotting out the light, their wing beats loud in her ears. She spun back to the door, scrabbled with the handle, the caw of the birds getting closer, her fingers numb from fear. Finally, she managed to open it enough to squeeze through before slamming it behind her.
Everything fell silent. Dim light filtered through the skylights in the roof. The birds were all but inaudible, their sound dampened by the bales of hay lining the walls. Rose must be letting John use it for storage, because there weren’t enough sheep on the property to need this much hay.
It was cleaner than she remembered. There was dust, but not so thick on the ground that it got up her nose. She could swear, though, that she could smell the tang of smoke. Acrid in the air, tickling the back of her throat. It crawled against her tonsils, and scurried like spiders up her nose. She started to shake, just a little at first, and then it overtook her. She pressed her back against the door and closed her eyes, breathing deeply and slowly, despite the urge to rush straight back out the door and let the birds have her.
She stood there like that for a full minute, sinking into the dull quiet of the barn, letting the peace wash over her. She was safe. Nothing could hurt her here. The past wasn’t about to become the present. She was alone, she was safe from the birds and this was all okay.
Jena opened her eyes, letting them adjust to the light in the space, keeping her breathing deep and even.
She was okay.
She could do this.
She pushed off from the door and took a few steps towards the centre of the barn. There were stalls along each side, though no farm equipment any more, besides a lone quad bike. She’d never driven one, but had always loved the feel of the wind through her hair when her father had driven her across the farm.
Her father.
Those memories – dreams – of the night everything had gone wrong had always played like a movie, making her think that she might have been at fault. Even if it was just guilt for being the only one who’d lived – that bit at least was her fault. But the rest wasn’t her. Rose had said. And Jena believed that. Whether it was because she wanted to or whether it was the truth didn’t really matter.
If it wasn’t her, it had to be someone else.
The earth jolted beneath her and Jena stumbled, falling against a hay bale. The feel of the straw beneath her fingers took her back to that night, the way it had scratched against her bare legs.
She could remember ….
Her dad carries her, though she’s getting too big for that now. Her feet knock against his knees and her head rests on his shoulder. His arms are thick and warm. He’s so strong. So strong that she knows he can protect her from anything, though maybe not from himself. He’s been getting so angry lately, yelling at them all and not saying he was sorry.
He sets her down on a bale of hay, tugs the blanket around her.
‘Dad, what are we doing here?’ She rubs her eyes, freeing little specks of sleep.
‘Nothing, Sweetie. Just lie down and go to sleep.’
‘But I’m awake now. Where’s everyone else?’ She looks around, but then she sees her mother on the ground, she looks so still, with a red scarf around her neck, spreading out on the ground. Joel is there too, on the other side of her mother. Her father notices her gaze and turns her head away.
‘Let your mother rest now, Sweetie. I’m going to go and get your baby sister, and then we’ll all be together. All of us, always.’
‘Okay, Dad,’ she says with a yawn, rolling over and tucking back into the blanket. She hears him leave, the barn door bangs closed behind him. And then she feels the pressure in her bladder. Now that she’s awake she needs to pee. She really needs to pee. Like, right now. If she’s quick she can get to a bush nearby and back before her father returns. She doesn’t want to make him angry, not when he wants them all to be together, not when everyone else is sleeping and it might wake them.
She leaves the blanket on the bale and heads for the door, glancing outside to make sure the coast is clear, and then she runs, bare feet against the cold gravel, ignoring the pain of the stones digging into her feet as she heads for the bush. The branches rustle as she squats and pees as fast as she can, quickly shaking off and then wiping her hands in the dew-damp grass. Still, it feels like it took too long. She can hear her father calling but she doesn’t want to call back. She bites her lip, holding her breath, not wanting to feel the heat of his anger.
No, she has to go. Has to face him. He is yelling again, but she can’t make out the words.
She pushes past the branches of the bush; a chill breeze makes her shiver and she hugs herself, trying to warm her bare arms. She looks at the barn, her sleep-weary eyes attempting to make sense of what she can see.
There is light coming from the side of it. No, not light. Fire. The barn wall is on fire; flames are leaping up the building, clawing against the windows. Her heart stops beating and then she runs, ignoring the rocks and prickles that bite into her feet.
‘Mama, Dad!’ she cries out, but the wind steals her voice. She is getting closer to the barn, scanning for something she can do; water, a bucket. There has to be something.
There’s a squawk from the sky and then a bird lands on her shoulder, pecking her head, its talons biting into her arm. Something else hits her. Another bird?
They fill the air, the sound of their wings, their caws, covering up the sound of the flames, blocking the barn from her view. She falls to her knees, arms over her head. She tries to protect herself as what feels like a whole flock of magpies sets upon her, pushing her to the ground, stopping her from reaching the barn.
‘No,’ she sobs, hands gripping her hair, but she doesn’t know if she’s saying no to the birds or to what she knows is happening to her family. In the barn. Where the fire is.
All that hay.
All that hay.
And then the birds are gone and her grandmother is there, cradling her in her arms and rocking her.
‘It’s okay. It’s okay, little bird. It’s over now. You’re safe. You’re safe.’
Jena clings to her grandmother, still sobbing. ‘They were all in there.’
‘I know. I know. But we can’t do anything about it, it’s too dry and the hay ….’
Jena rocks back on her heels, finally daring to look at the spectacle of the burning barn.
She can hear the wail of sirens in the distance. The haze of the fire is so big that it seems to light the whole sky. It’s huge and kind of pretty, or it would be if her family wasn’t in there.
She imagines their skin wrinkling and falling off their bodies, the same way marshmallows do when you roast them over the fire for too long. She can’t breathe, thinking about it.
Her father, her mother. Joel and baby Mandy too. All of them are gone. Leaving her here. She gets to her feet and runs towards the barn. They are all meant to be together. Forever. But her grandmother catches her, holds her firm as she screams and sobs until the fire engine pulls into the driveway.