The Lonely Wind of Barneveld

Sometimes, late at night, when all others are sleeping, a lonely wind whispers and winds itself thorough the tall houses in the quiet village of Barneveld. Some believe that it is nothing more than that-a small breeze sifting through the lives of the living. However, others believe a more distressing story--they are the ones who have heard the strange song contained in that desolate wind... The forlorn song of Melody Windspring--the voice of the Barneveld ghost.

"Melody, come here!" the spirited man called, staring, amazed, at the charming blue hills off in the distance and the lofty trees strung out in a column before it. It was a beautiful spring scene, graced by the fairest of weather as a drifting lonely breeze enticed the fancy with the homely scent of earth and the fresh smell of the new life born in the first few months of the year.

"Yes, Russell, dear?" the man's wife asked, emerging from their new home built on the fertile lands of Wisconsin. Heavily laden with child, she walked slowly over to his side and wrapped an arm around him.

"Just look at his view!" Russell whispered in awe, his extended hand encompassing the entire scene. "When they said that this was a magnificent place, I never believed that they could be so right!"

"Oh, you and your 'beautiful views'..." she said, chuckling. As they stood in silence she sighed and breathed in the pristine air. "It is pretty, isn't it?"

"Indeed..." he said quietly, turning back to Melody and grinning, a green sparkle in his eyes. "Pretty enough for song."

"Oh, no!" she said, laughing again and shaking her head in amusement. "You're not going to start again at that, now are you?"

"That was my whole life back in Europe," he murmured, wagging a finger at her face in jest. "I wouldn't look down upon it so!"

"You know I am teasing, dear heart, but you have to realize how ridiculous it sounds. We may have been able to survive on that back there, but not here. Here you must bring your head out of the clouds, and down to the earth. You are a farmer now, and so must act like one. No singing for us anymore."

"Ah, but still," Russell sighed, realizing that his wife would probably never understand his joy at the sight of a new day, or the creation of a pleasant song, "a farmer can dream, can't he?"

"Aye, honey," Melody muttered, "dream all you wish, just as long as our crops still wave in the wind and we still have enough to eat."

"The crops in the wind, eh?" he asked, already creating a new song to the words. As he though he began singing aloud. "As long as the wind still brushes the grain, long as the heavens still kiss us with rain..."

Melody rolled her eyes and could hold back her mirth no longer. "...Long as my wife will still cause me pain, if I don't go!" she sang back to him, chuckling.

Russell glared at her, but when he saw her laughing face he could not resist allowing a smile to grace his face. "Cheeky little devil!"

"Oh, go on to work, you grumpy old man!" she cried, pushing him along on his long trail back to the fields.

And so the wind carved its way through the small farm, carrying the sound of his laughter on throughout the town and beyond to the harsh world outside...

"So, whaddya find out 'bout it?" the stout man asked, sitting beside the campfire, his dark face alight yet shadowed as he attempted to warm himself. The scrawny man he addressed shrugged as he stepped into the firelight, rubbing his hands thoughtfully.

"Jes' like ya thought, boss," he said slowly, helping himself to some of the tantalizing soup resting atop the fire as he sat down. "It's all jes' a cozy littl' family. Woman gots a youn'un on the way--too far along ta be much'a a problem. Man's the only one we gots to worry about, but he don't seem like much'a a fighter ta me." He chuckled as he recalled watching the man suddenly gasp and rush to write down the words to a song he was writing, spending more time at play than anything else. "Spent the whole time a singin' n' a hummin' to hisself liken a idiot."

"Good, then," the older man muttered, nodding to himself. "We can take 'em both out, get us all they got, n' a be outta here afore anyone blinks a eye." He smiled, dreaming of all of the possible riches a family with such large fields might have.

"But whadda we do iffen they don't gots nothin,' Earl?" his skinny counterpart asked, having finished his meal and lying back now, staring off into the distance where the coyotes yelped over some delectable catch.

"Well, we won't know 'bout that 'til we gets there, stupid," Earl said, cuffing his friend on the side of his head. "Iffen we hafta kill n' run, that's what we'll do. Ya jus' don't worry yer head 'bout those sorts a things, Bill."

"But, boss," Bill whined, rubbing his head unhappily, "doncha think that maybe we should check 'n see iffen they gots somethin' afore we kill 'em all?"

"You bonehead!" Earl cried suddenly, leaping to his feet agitatedly. "Iffen we check first, n' a they don't gots nothin' n' we let 'em go, doncha think that they're a gonna tell some'un? Iffen we wanna get aways, we's a gotta take all'a the witnesses, ya hear?"

"I guess, boss," Bill whispered, readily giving into his partner's anger, wrapping up in his blanket to sleep. "It just a seems liken it'd be such a waste..."

"Nothin's a waste iffen ya gets away wit' it, me boy," Earl said, his eyes glittering in the near darkness.

"Iffen ya say so, boss," Bill murmured, already drifting off into dreamland, asleep before he could catch his friend's last reply...

"Nothin'."

"I'm back again, Melody!" Russell called brightly, singing softly as he entered the kitchen, walking directly to his wife and kissing her upon her cheek.

"I hear you, dear! " she answered, laughing as she stirred their supper calmly. "I don't think anyone could not hear you, all the singing and fussing you were making!"

"I came up with a new song, though!" he cried, as joyful as a child at Christmas. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small sheet of paper. "I had to! It's beautiful--here, I wrote the whole thing down. It took me most of the afternoon, but..." He was about to hand her the song when he saw the look on her face. "What?"

"Russell..." she said quietly, shaking her head slowly.

"What?" he asked, oblivious.

"How much work did you get done today?" she demanded, shutting her eyes tightly as if she thought the answer would hurt her.

"...I worked most of the morning..." Russell replied slowly, unable to look his wife in the eye.

Melody's eyes burst open, and she stared at him in outrage. "But Russell, you can't keep on doing this!"

At this point, Earl and Bill appeared in the doorway, both carrying a pistol in each hand and looking more likely to appear in a circus act than a robbery for all their attempts to seem dangerous.

"Alright, ya two--" Bill called, prepared to separate the two in their fight.

Melody and Russell, however, were too caught up in their argument to hear anything else.

"I can't help it!" Russell protested, turning to stare at the bright colors of spring outside as he spoke. "This is my life, and I can't keep from doing it! It's what I love, my dream, and--"

"Russell!" Melody shouted desperately. "You--God, Russell, why do you do this?" she asked, shaking her head. "I just wish that you could act like a normal human being, not constantly after this far-fetched dream of yours! It's never going to happen! You just have to accept that and move on, not just keep on after a dying fantasy! If you don't..." she whispered, blinking fast so as not to cry, "I don't know what is going to happen to us."

"M'kay, enough--" Bill said, trying once again to interrupt the fueding family.

Once again they failed to hear him.

"Melody, how can you say that?" Russell demanded, spinning around again to face her. When he saw her tears he softened his voice, pleading with her. "That's my entire life you're talking about... Please try to understand--"

"Fer cryin' out loud, ya two," Earl screeched abruptly, his sturdy frame filling the doorway, realizing his friend's attempts were making no progress, "we've been standin' here fer the whole time, n' none a ya'll have seen us yet!" He stepped into the house, pointing his pistol at first Melody, then Russell, Bill following just behind. "Break off the fight, n' a put yer hands up!"

"Wha--" Melody whispered, confused. "What's going on?"

"We're a breakin' inta yer house," Bill answered, trying not to look her in the face. "Iffen yer good, we may let ya live."

"Melody, stay back there," Russell ordered his wife, who seemed too frightened to go against his say anyway. "What are you doing?" he asked the two robbers, taking a step towards them. "You can't just--"

"Now ya jus' stay back there, ya hear?" Bill said, backing up a step as Russell came forward. "We don't want no trouble."

"But we don't have any--" Russell began, but was cut off again.

"I said, stay back!" Bill yelled, aiming his gun directly at Russell's heart.

"Russell, stop it!" Melody pleaded, recognizing the dangerous look on the two criminals' faces.

"You--" Russell started again, but never got the chance to finish the sentence.

"Shoot 'em!" Earl cried frantically. "Shoot that bastard!"

The shots rang out through the air, both Bill and Earl shooting at the same time. Russell never had a chance. To Melody, still standing in the corner, it seemed like everything moved in slow motion--Russell began dropping to the floor, the paper he still held fluttering away to rest on his chest, and the blood-her husband's blood--was everywhere. She ran to his side to hold him, the reality of it all not quite reaching her yet, clutching his hand and shaking him, waiting for him to wake up--for herself to wake up, from this horrible dream that could not possibly be true.

"No!" she wailed, running a hand through the dark hair of the man who only a second ago had been living and breathing. She wished desperately for him to be alive again, to be back only a minute ago, when they had been screaming at each other, only so long as he was alive! "Russell! Russell..." Her tears began to flow, choking her voice, and yet still she managed one stifled question. "How could you?" Whether she asked it of the two criminals, or of Russell himself, she did not even herself know.

"Ya jus' stay here n' keep a eye on her, me boy," Earl said, paying no attention to the weeping, newly-made widow on the ground. "I'll run 'round here n' a see what they gots."

"Yeah, boss," Bill answered vaguely, unable to wrench his eyes from the drama before his face.

"Russell... You can't die, you can't! Russell..." Melody brushed away her tears, a futile motion as they surged down her face in great waves of water. "Russell, I never told you again how much I loved you! Russell..." She closed her eyes suddenly, taking a deep breath, calming herself in the silence. Just as abruptly she spun around, facing Bill, hatred contorting her face. "You two."

"Now, ma'am," Bill said, attempting to calm her, backing away, "he a had that a comin' ta him. We warned ya, fair n' square." He stared anxiously at her face, wondering what she might possibly attempt to do to him, and stepping back out of the house as Melody wordlessly shadowed him. "Ma'am, ya jus' stay over there n' we'll be outta yer way shortly."

"You low down, stinkin' son-of-a-gun!" Melody screamed, the blazing sunshine seeming to bring her anger to a boiling temperature. "You murdered my husband and you think that I'm just going to let you tell me to just sit back?!"

"Now, ma'am," Bill whispered, his back bumping against a large oak as Melody pushed him farther back from the house. " don't wanna hurt ya--"

"Not want to hurt me?" she questioned, laughing almost hysterically in her rage. "Just like you didn't want to hurt my husband?"

"Ma'am..." Bill began, then, realizing that his pleads were getting no where in soothing the angry woman, tried a new approach. "Please, jus' get outta here afore it's too late! Iffen me boss gets back here afore ya run off, he'll have me a shootin' ya. I--I can't kill a woman, ya hear? So please, fer yer own safety, jus' get outta here!"

"I will not--" she started, then was interrupted by the shout of Bill's accomplice.

"Boy, whar'd that woman go?" Earl bellowed, still searching for them within the house.

"Please, ma'am, he's a comin'," Bill said, nodding to the house.

"...You're doing yourself--and me--no favor by letting me live," Melody whispered. She didn't know why she said it at the time, but she was trying to be killed. She was in such despair at her husband's--her beloved's--death that she felt the only solution laid in death.

"I know, ma'am, but..." Bill hesitated, having seen this situation before, and already knowing how difficult it might be to be rid of her. Finally he clutched at the only thought that he believed might move her. "Go, now, fer the youn'un's sake."

Melody started at this, and laid a hand upon her stomach, thinking of the child contained in her womb, of the only living reminder she might ever have of her husband. She nodded, silently thanking the man for showing her what she had forgotten, that her death would also mean the death of her innocent child. Quickly she raced into the forest, just disappearing through the trees before Earl stepped out of the house.

"Boy! Whar's that woman?" he shouted sullenly.

"She dun gon' n' run off on me, boss!" Bill lied, pretending to aim his gun at a point off in the woods, far from where Melody disappeared to. "I'm a tryin' to get 'er now!"

"Go, then!" Earl screeched franticly. "Shoot 'er afore she gets aways n' tells all a the town 'bout us!"

"Yeah, boss! I'll catch 'er!" Bill cried, shooting off into the distance and squinting as if checking to be sure he had caught his mark. "I got 'er, boss..." he said finally, praying that his friend would not think to check to be sure of the validity of his statement.

"Good," Earl said, hefting a small bag onto his shoulders and striding briskly off towards the setting sun. "Let's get outta here, now."

"Sure thing, boss..." Bill said, stepping into place beside Earl. He glanced towards the forests, hoping that the woman had gotten away safely, before turning to his partner again. "Whaddya find in thar?"

"Not one thing!" Earl cried, disgusted. "Barely any food, n' nothin' else but some stupid writin' in that man's hand. Here, ya see what it says," he said, handing it to his literate companion.

"Long as the heavens still kiss us with rain..." Bill recited, then sighed. "Ah, boss, it ain't nothin' but that littl' ol' song that man was talkin' 'bout."

"Ah, leave it then," Earl said, spitting off to the side, his disgust complete. "We's a gotta get outta here. I hear those people comin' after us already..." he whispered, cockign his ear to the side to hear the faint cries in the distance. "Why ya drop it so careful like?" he asked, noting that his friend had carefully set the song on the ground as opposed to simply dropping it.

"...Respect fer the dead, boss," Bill answered slowly. He didn't want to confess his real reason, that he was leaving the lyrics for the poor wife, in the hopes that at least this way she would have somehting real to remember her husband by.

"Ah, ya always did have all those silly notions, didn't ya?" Earl scoffed. "Leave it be, boy, n' let's go!" he cried, picking up his speed as they sped deeper and deeper into the dapper colored forests and trees to the west...

"...He left it for me, didn't he?" Melody said slowly, staring into the sky where the sun had just sent it's last rays into the world. She held in her hands the now tattered and blood-speckled song of her husband's. Just holding the paper made her feel closer to Russell, and she kept her silence, enjoying the feeling, however painful it might be.

"Left what, Melody?" asked her friend, Irene, who, along with the others from the town, had come to find the villians who had murdered Russell and robbed his house. "Where'd those men go?"

"...It was Russell's last song, wasn't it?" asked another woman, Ruth, more concerned with the grieving than those responsible for the grief.

"Yes..." Melody said slowly, then pointed towards the west, answering the previous question. "They went that way..." She turned back to her other friend while Irene walked with those men trying to find the two crooks. "I--when he showed it to me..." she stopped, holding back her tears, then continued. "I yelled at him, called him stupid for having a dream... That was the last thing I said to him."

"Come, now, Melody, you couldn't have known..." Ruth whispered quietly, pulling her companion into a hug.

"No, I couldn't have..." Melody answered, realizing that Ruth was trying to make her feel better. "But just think... Instead of listening to his song... Instead of supporting him, like I should have... The last thing I said..." She closed her eyes, trying desperately not to start sobbing again. "Oh, Russell, if only... If only I could tell you how much I loved you!"

At that point Melody burst into tears, letting the paper drop from her hands and pushing away from her faithful friend, and fled into the forest, never to be seen again by man. No one knows for sure where she went. Some say her despair wore her body away until all that was left was the song, and, just as the echo calls for her sweet narcissus, calls out for her lost love in the brisk night air, "Russell...! Russell...". They also say that if you listen closely on a clear night in Barneveld, when the moon cries it's silver tears of stars upon the world below, you can hear her singing in the wind the last song heard from her beloved's lips. Some also say that she simply left to go out west with her child... Perhaps we shall never know the truth of it all, but for me, I know one thing for certain. When listening to the soft summer breeze outside, the wind is not all I hear...