Counting the Miles

Old and Abandoned

OLD AND ABANDONED

It takes a while to get there, but we eventually find an old, recently abandoned cabin. I guess some old man lived here a couple years ago and no one knew of him.

“Ben Conford,” Davis says looking at a paper, when we’re inside the cabin, “Sounds familiar, some how, maybe he went to my church or something.”

“Went? How do you know he’s not alive?”

“He’s buried outside.”

“Oh. Well, who do you think he was?”  I ask, searching for my answer in a pile of his dusty things on his desk.

“I don’t know.”

We keep searching until I find a picture. It looks exactly the same as the one in my pocket. I pull out the photo in my pocket.

“What’s that?” Davis says pointing at the picture.

“Oh, this? It’s no big deal. I found it on a shelf in the basement.” I pause to show him, “See no big deal.

“Why do you have this?”

“I just found it on the shelf in the basement,” I repeat. I don’t think I should tell him quite yet.

“Ok."

I go back to my search and find a couple more pictures of what looks like a wedding. Davis walks up behind me; I don’t turn around to look at him.

“Where do you think they are?” He asks quietly into my ear.

“I don’t know,” I pause, “a wedding probably. I think they might have something to do with my parents, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh, well that woman looks exactly like you.”

“Yeah. I guess. I didn’t really think so, but sure.”

“Are you hungry yet?” He says pulling out the brown sack. We eat until our bellies are content. Davis looks at his watch, “Eleven forty-five.”

“How much longer do you wanna stay?” I ask. I do not want to stay any longer, this place kind of freaks me out.

“I wanna stay longer. I wanna find out who this man was. Gotta finish what we started, right?” He replies.

“Alright.” I continue my search. I rummage through so much dirt and dust I begin to cough.

“Maybe we should…” Davis starts, but is interrupted by the door creaking open. A large, dark skinned man stands in the doorway, staring us down.

“GET OUT!” He yells. He is clutching a rifle behind his back. I stay as calm as I can, which isn’t much.

“Sorry,” I reply and begin to walk closer, but Davis grabs my arm. “We didn’t think anyone lived here.”

“JUST,” he pauses retaining his anger, “Just get out…please. This is my house now!”

“Now?” I start.

“We were leaving anyway,” Davis concludes.

I lean close to Davis and speak, “I wanna know what this guy is all about.”

“Do you see what’s in his hand? Do you know what that could do to you?”

“Sir, I’m sorry, but who is the man who owned this before you?”

“We don’t speak of him.”

“Why?”

“Sometimes, girl, its good to be curious, but other times its not. And right now is not a good time. Why do you wanna know so much of Ben?” His first comment hurt a little, but I still am curious and that doesn’t stop me asking questions.