Another Man’s Castle
by Kelly S. Hossaini
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Table of Contents parts 1, 2, 3 |
part 1
The day he closed the purchase of the Hembrey hazelnut orchard in Oregon’s verdant Willamette Valley was the best day of Daniel Gaines’ life. As a boy in Modesto, Daniel had dreamed of owning his own farm. He was obsessed with tractors and seedlings and corpulent fall vegetables. He had spent his childhood working on area farms.
In doing so, he had earned enough money to buy himself a truck before he turned 16: an old, red Ford F-100, which he knew how to fix, just as he knew how to fix tractors and other farm equipment, having been a quick study at these tasks.
Daniel graduated from the University of California, Davis with a degree in Agricultural and Environmental Technology. He had no debt, thanks to his industriousness, a good scholarship, and $250,000 from his recently deceased grandfather. Although there was plenty of opportunity for a young man with Daniel’s ambitions in the Modesto area, Daniel decided that he wanted to settle elsewhere, treating the move as perhaps his life’s one big adventure. Once he put down his roots, he planned to go nowhere else.
Daniel chose the Willamette Valley for its greenery and because, at the time he was looking for a place to buy, the Hembrey farm came up for sale. The farm was 60 acres in total: 30 in hazelnuts, 15 in second-growth Douglas fir forest, and the remainder occupied by a house, a barn, a large maintenance shop, and an even larger implement shed, which held the assortment of vehicles and farm equipment needed to run a nut orchard.
The decision to purchase felt almost pre-ordained. Having worked so long in Modesto, Daniel was well-acquainted with growing tree nuts. Hazelnuts were not grown in Modesto, but Daniel had heard that they were easy to grow, especially for someone who was experienced with other kinds of nuts.
The setting of the farm itself was beautiful, with gentle slopes and expansive views of the Coast Range to the south and west. The mountains were stunningly, almost embarrassingly, green and surreal, as if they’d been painted there by an Impressionist. The forest of firs that ringed the remainder of the property ensured that the farm’s every vantage point held an appealing view.
Daniel was further impressed by the pristine condition of the farm when he first toured it, even though Mr. Hembrey had died months prior. Clearly old Mr. Hembrey had cared for the place like a proud 1950s housewife. Everything was organized, down to the jars of nuts and bolts in the shop. Firewood sat neatly stacked in an out-building, and even the boneyard that every farmer kept somewhere on the property was carefully laid out next to the implement shed.
To cap off Daniel’s good fortune, there was a nice, flat two-acre piece next to the barn that would be perfect for growing fall vegetables.
“This place is amazing,” Daniel said to his real estate broker, Monty Pike, as he toured the farm. “I feel lucky to have found it.” Monty nodded.
“It is pretty amazing. Delores — that’s Mrs. Hembrey — told me that Mr. Hembrey and the family built and planted everything we see, pretty much. This was just bare land when they bought it. Mr. Hembrey put his whole life into it. Delores said that the old guy never even took a vacation. He just worked 16 hours a day seven days a week and liked it like that.
“Once in a while, Delores and the kids would convince him to drive out to the coast after church on a Sunday, but he’d spend the whole time sitting at a picnic table reading the paper. Wouldn’t even take his shoes off.” Monty chuckled at the thought. “They’d have a bowl of clam chowder for a late lunch and then go back to the farm. She said you never saw anyone so uncomfortable as Mr. Hembrey trying to relax.”
“Yeah, I knew some farmers like that,” Daniel agreed. “Mostly small-family farmers, of course. The big ag guys see it more as a business, not an extension of themselves. I would imagine farmers like old Mr. Hembrey will be fewer and fewer as the years go by.” Daniel paused and smiled. “I intend to be a Mr. Hembrey.”
Monty smiled back and gave Daniel’s back a pat. “I should disclose something to you,” Monty said, suddenly becoming serious again. They were standing near the barn, in that nice, flat piece perfect for growing fall vegetables. “Mr. Hembrey died here.” Monty emphasized the word “here.”
“Yikes!” exclaimed Daniel. “You mean, right here?” Daniel’s hand swept across the indifferent plot of mown crabgrass.
“Yeah, pretty much right here, from what I understand. Poor old fella. Some kind of cancer. Delores said that she tried to get him to leave, to move somewhere that he could get better treatment, but he refused. He insisted he’d take whatever treatment he could get here in the area, would go as far as Portland but, beyond that, he wouldn’t cooperate.” Monty stopped for a moment and absent-mindedly scratched his head.
“So did something happen to him here? How did he die in the field?”
“Oh, it was nothing violent or anything like that. From what I understand, he just kept getting sicker and sicker. Couldn’t even make it outside near the end but, one day, Delores went to the store and, when she came back, he wasn’t in the house. One of the farmhands found him. Apparently he was going to gas up a mower or something because he had a full gas can next to him.
“You know farmers: they’re going to work till the end. At the end of the day, though, I think he died right where he wanted to die. So I’m sure that to him it wasn’t the worst way to go.” Monty paused again. “It’s as we said: farmers can get very attached to their property. Once you put that much of yourself into a place, I guess it’s hard to imagine being anywhere else. Where would you go?”
* * *
Daniel soon purchased the farm and quickly hired three farmhands. The task was simple, because the first two hires, Jose and Jimmy, had previously worked for the Hembreys, with Jimmy having been Mr. Hembrey’s farm supervisor. The third hire, Rosando, was Jimmy’s friend who worked at a nearby farm.
Jose and Jimmy had only nice things to say about the Hembreys, although they both agreed that as his illness progressed, Mr. Hembrey wasn’t the same. The sick Mr. Hembrey was more likely to fly off the handle or become agitated. He’d yell at you for a simple mistake and completely lose it if he thought you weren’t doing something exactly as he thought you should, even something as simple as sweeping out the barn.
One time, toward the end, Mr. Hembrey grabbed a rake out of Jose’s hand and, while berating him for his raking technique, tried to break the rake handle over his own knee, apparently for dramatic effect. But he was too weak and instead of the handle breaking, Mr. Hembrey just hurt his knee and fell to the ground. The old man remained stoic while Jose and Jimmy carried him into the house.
Sometimes, Jimmy said, they would see Mr. Hembrey wandering aimlessly through the orchard as if he were in a trance. Other times they would catch sight of him just standing there, staring at the mountains for ten or fifteen minutes without moving. Jimmy said that it was like Mr. Hembrey was trying to melt right into the dirt. That was unlike him, they said. The not-sick Mr. Hembrey was always moving, always fixing something, always cleaning something. Everyone on the farm worked hard, but no one worked harder than Mr. Hembrey. The men felt very sorry for his illness and were even sorrier when he died. Jimmy was the one who found him.
* * *
After the purchase, life on the farm quickly fell into a comfortable rhythm for Daniel. He liked the routine that farming provided, the continuous cycle of it. He didn’t find it monotonous, because there was always some new twist to what had gone before and new things to learn. Hazelnuts weren’t exactly a dynamic or romantic crop, like the wine grapes in the area, but they suited Daniel just fine. He liked that they were simple and cooperative.
One afternoon, as Daniel considered the odds and ends in the boneyard, he saw Jimmy bolt out of the side door of the barn, looking startled. Jimmy almost fell onto the gravel as he swung out into the sunlight.
“You okay, Jimmy?” called Daniel.
Jimmy looked frightened, but then rather too-obviously tried to mask it. “I’m okay,” he replied dismissively and began to walk toward the orchard. Concerned, Daniel started to follow him.
“No, really, do we have rats in there or something?” Daniel smiled as he got closer, and Jimmy finally stopped and turned around. He clearly didn’t want to talk about what had happened.
“No, it’s okay,” Jimmy said.
“Okay, then. But do let me know if there’s a problem or something, will you?”
Jimmy nodded and headed back out to the orchard. Daniel looked at the barn and then went inside. Nothing seemed amiss. Tools and sorting containers were all hanging or stacked neatly, just as old Mr. Hembrey had arranged them. The fungicides and herbicides, labels out, waited patiently on a large set of shelves. The floor was swept clean. The barn was cleaner and better organized than most people’s houses.
* * *
That evening, after he had eaten his spaghetti with meatballs and Ragu sauce and had watched the late news, Daniel turned off the lights and began his march to bed. On the way, he made sure that he locked the back door leading into the utility room, as well as the slider off of the family room attached to the kitchen. Then he turned off the hall light on the way to the front door.
At the front door he peeked, as usual, out the sidelight while feeling with his left hand that the deadbolt was positioned toward the doorjamb. As he did so, his heart jumped. Someone was standing on the gravel driveway. It looked like a man, but in the darkness was just a shadowy figure. Daniel froze for a moment, not sure what to do.
On the one hand, he should definitely go get one of the shotguns from the utility room. It was risky to confront someone at night empty-handed. On the other hand, if he left, the man might disappear in the meantime, and then he’d have to go looking for him. The farm was a large place with plenty of places to hide. Daniel dropped his hand from the deadbolt, looked down the dark hallway, and then glanced back outside to find that the figure was already gone.
Deciding he didn’t have time to get a gun, Daniel opened the door quickly and ran outside onto the front porch, straining to see where the figure might have gone. But there was no sign of anyone. Daniel ventured further out toward the driveway, but no one was anywhere to be seen. To make himself feel better, Daniel told himself that there was no place one could hide that quickly.
Daniel took a deep breath. Okay. Maybe he hadn’t actually seen anything. He went back inside, locked the door, and then took a shotgun upstairs with him to the bedroom. He needed a dog. He couldn’t believe that hadn’t yet occurred to him. Maybe he needed two.
Over the next couple of weeks, Daniel noticed that the normally easygoing Jimmy had become increasingly withdrawn and taciturn. Rosando and Jose seemed skittish. None of the men would admit to anything being wrong. When asked, they insisted everything was fine and then smiled nervous, tight smiles.
During that time, Daniel managed to get a large German Shepherd from a breeder down the road. Gretchen was friendly and calm, but looked fierce when she went on alert, which was usually the result of a chipmunk or opossum. Daniel let her sleep in the house, which was not a farmer-like thing to do, but he didn’t want her to be lonely outside. He should probably get some pygmy goats or something to liven up the place a bit.
* * *
During Gretchen’s second night in the house, Daniel awoke to a low growl coming from downstairs. He called to Gretchen, but she didn’t come to him or stop growling. Daniel grabbed the shotgun from against his bedroom wall and went downstairs.
As he passed by the front door and through the dark hallway toward the family room, he saw Gretchen standing firmly at the end of the hallway, head down. He also saw the profile of a dark figure sitting in the recliner, seemingly unconcerned about the growling dog.
“Who are you?” Daniel made his voice low and loud. “You need to get out: now!” The figure’s head appeared to turn toward him. Then it got up and walked into the utility room and disappeared.
Gretchen went after the figure, but then stopped in the utility room looking confused. She saw, as Daniel did, that there was no one there. Well, there was no question now that he had seen something. Daniel was glad to have Gretchen to witness the apparition.
Daniel himself was now as edgy as his workers. A week had passed with no new sign of the dark figure, but Daniel knew that didn’t mean the figure wouldn’t come back. As it turned out, he was right.
One afternoon, as Daniel stood in front of the shop sharpening a mower blade, he saw Jimmy come running out of the implement shed. This time when Jimmy saw Daniel, he did not turn the other way. Instead, he slowed his pace but made straight for Daniel.
“I’m sorry,” Jimmy said, his voice breathless and two octaves higher than normal. “Mr. Hembrey is not happy. I... I can’t be here anymore. I’m very sorry.” Jimmy kept looking back at the implement shed and then pulled the keys to his truck out of his pocket.
“Whoa, whoa!” said Daniel, reaching out and gently taking hold of Jimmy’s arm. “What’s going on? What did you see?”
Jimmy shook his head. “I’m sorry, Daniel, but it’s Mr. Hembrey. He’s here and he keeps coming to me, and I know he’s not happy. I can tell. I get a really bad feeling when he shows up. Before I ever see him, I know he’s there.”
“Can you see his face or anything?”
“No, I can’t see his face. He’s like a shadow, but not. I mean he’s not just a shadow. And he’s mad. I need to go.” Jimmy was pale, absent-mindedly jingling the keys. Daniel kept his hand on Jimmy’s arm.
“Can we just go in the house and talk about this? I’ll give you a raise. I’m not sure what you’re seeing, but I do need you here.” Daniel heard his voice pleading. Daniel also wondered if Jimmy noticed that Daniel didn’t dispute the account.
“No, I’m sorry, Daniel. I can’t stay here. Rosando and Jose might stay. They don’t see Mr. Hembrey. I think he’s just mad at me,” Jimmy replied.
No, thought Daniel, he’s not just mad at you.
After Jimmy apologized once again and Daniel promised to send him a check for his unpaid time, Daniel stood and watched Jimmy drive down the long driveway toward the highway. He saw the dust from Jimmy’s truck long after the truck had disappeared.
* * *
Copyright © 2025 by Kelly S. Hossaini
