Within a few feet after crossing the fence, I could tell I was in an idle cornfield. I brushed against dried corn stalks and each step sounded as if each step had smashed hundreds of cornflakes. I was concerned that the residents would hear this racket and become frightened.
It was dark, but the starlight still deciphered large forms. I could see enough to know that I had to circle a wooded area in the center of the field. The starlight wasn’t bright enough to keep me from stumbling in the furrowed field. I expected to find the house on the other side, but didn’t. As best I could tell, there was another grove of trees to be circled. I carefully continued on. As I got close to what I thought was the second grove, the dark shadow outline was actually a house.
I was concerned that my noisy approached had alarmed the residents because the lights were out. Had they turned them off because they might have heard me coming? Would they shoot first and ask questions afterwards? Or was it coincidence that they had gone to bed just as I arrived? Carefully I approached the porch and yelled out my arrival: “anyone home?” No answer. I walked up onto the wooden porch and through feeling with my hands identified two doors facing each other in a recessed alcove. I knocked on the door. No answer. I yelled “anyone home?” There were no sounds to be heard.
I took my camera from my shoulder and turned it on. By turning it around, a dim light from the viewfinder radiated back out the eyepiece. I discovered a padlock on the door. The other door had a lock mortised into the door, but part of the door glass had been knocked out. Feeling around this alcove, I discovered a crude ladder constructed out of round poles and it went up to an attic. I didn’t feel right in going up there. That would be intruding. I called out once again without a response from anyone.
Without considering the attic as an option, I had only two other options: break in or break in. It still didn’t seem right even though it was a life or death situation. I pushed real hard on the door but it wouldn’t open. I decided to explore. While circling the house, I felt part of the house or roof had collapsed. Then around the corner I found two exterior windows about five and a half feet off the ground. Both had been broken out. Again, I used my camera’s light to peer inside. I could barely identify straw on the floor…a definite bed. Then I heard an animal moving about inside. It sounded about the size of a large cat, but that’s not what it was.
The house’s walls felt solid and most likely adobe or masonry. This mass would surely provide a warmer shelter than the outside. The entire house appeared to be falling apart, except for the doors keeping me out. At this point all I could think of was getting inside and out of the cold. I would just have to deal with whatever was in there.
To start, I placed my camera on the wide window-sill. In my exhaustive state, I struggled to make it up into the window. I heard an animal scamper about. I finally stepped timidly onto the straw. The floor felt unstable… shaky at best. Remembering that the roof had caved in the other side, I knew it was possible that the floor could collapse too.
To be cautious, I rolled out on the straw with my entire body instead of stepping onto it. Spreading my weight over a larger area would places less concentrated stress on any failing floor structure. I stayed just in front of the window to further minimize my risk. I felt around and determined that there was considerable depth to the straw, but the entire support was moving. I shook while burrowing in and took some time to carefully cover myself with another eight inches of straw, including my head
. Click here to hear my audio recording inside the house.
