The Farm Window

I was fresh out of grad school and lived on the upper floor of a barn. It was a rustic place yet very comfortable with fantastic views of the woods and a winding road on a hill that I loved running up and down.

On this night I could not see any of that. It was a foggy early September night where it was quieter than usual or maybe fog just does that. Or maybe it was the anticipation of what was ahead. I could hear my heart beating and it was one of those rare evenings where I had no music playing and I had cleaned the place expecting company. Out of nowhere, I had met this girl whom we had become pretty close friends and it was kind of obvious that she wanted it to be a little more than that. I remember when I first met her that I did not really like her all that much as she was loud and opinionated. Somehow she kept showing up in my life. Late summer time sounds filtered in through the screened windows and I recall looking out through the murky air and seeing the light of a car cutting through the fog. Then the same headlights went past my place in the opposite creeping along rather slowly. She had an old Honda and despite my tepid knowledge of cars I thought I recognized an old car sound on a big hill.

It had to be the same car as few cars ventured up and down this road. I lived in the middle of nowhere. My world was suddenly quieter than I could imagine. My mind raced and something inside of me kind of hoped that it was her and she could not find the place and decided to head back home. This was a time when we did not carry cell phones. I kind of miss that.

It had slowly become quieter than I could possibly put up with. I think I put on some classical music on the stereo and I am pretty sure it was Mozart's 21st piano concerto. In the early stages of our court ship music was the common bond between us and she was impressed by my knowledge of classical music.

I sat rather quietly just listening to the music and the quiet second movement started and I glanced out the window on the other side of the barn. The fog had really settled in and it was just me and the music and I was really happy as I had done a hard run earlier in the day and I felt good. I walked out on the metal balcony and could hear the music in the back ground and it made me feel good and i could feel the damp air clinging to my skin.

I walked back into my place and headed toward the kitchen to get a beer. I always hated waiting as a kid as my Dad was always late and that had bothered me. It is something I never really got over -the waiting. It gets very quiet when we wait and every self doubt seems to creep in but on this night there was only a hint of that self doubt as it did not matter all that much to me.

And then there were three quiet taps on the door. I could hardly hear them but they were there. Three subtle knocks that would change the course of my life. I have no re collection of the rest of that evening, rather a memory of car lights in fog and a knock at the door.