Narrator: Cody B. | Arkansas, USA
There was an empty grain bin on the property next to ours. We’d been told to keep away from it as kids, and had mostly done the opposite.
When I was nineteen I heard a rattle from inside. Three knocks, then someone dragging a tool around the metal wall. I thought one of the younger boys had climbed in and got stuck.
I called through the hatch. A man’s voice said, “Don’t go up. Open the bottom.”
I nearly did. The bolts had been painted over years before, so I went home to get a wrench. Dad came back with me. He listened, then told me to stand well away while he rang the owner.
They opened it together. Empty. No grain, no ladder, no one inside. I could see the entire floor from the hatch.
As they shut it, a voice from above us said, “That one.”
Dad took my arm so hard he left bruises. He wouldn’t tell me who he’d thought it was. He’s gone now, and I wish I’d asked again when I had the chance.
