Second Chance:

[Grand58742]

The other story that has been taking up my time lately. I'm working on it and "Lucky" at the same time.

Enjoy

[Grand58742]

PROLOGUE – SECOND CHANCE


Funny thing about a spark. Typically it just burns for a split second and goes away quietly. Millions, perhaps billions of sparks happen daily and nothing ever happens. They just illuminate quickly and go away, just as quickly. Nobody ever gives them a second thought. But sometimes that spark comes in contact with a volatile material and ignites it. We sometimes do our best to avoid them, like explosive workers. But sometimes that spark just happens to come in contact with said volatile material and an explosion happens. Call it destiny or happenstance; it happens no matter what precautions we take. We can do everything on the planet to prevent that spark, but sometimes it just happens whether we want it to or not. And in other times, people feel the need to pour gasoline on the pile of sweating dynamite while lighting a cigar and talking on their cell phone…


In the not so distant future


“Hey Mister, got a light?” asked the girl to the man walking out of the grocery store as she held the cigarette by the tips in both hands. She looked far too young to be hanging out in front of grocery stores looking for a cigarette lighter.

“Aren’t you kind of young to be smoking?” asked the man as he looked her over.

“I’m eighteen and it’s a free country,” she said with a slight bit of attitude.

He studied her with a knowing look and peered into her eyes. The eyes were always told of how old a person was, how much they had seen and furthermore, what they happened to be thinking. “How old did you say you were?”

“Eighteen,” she answered. “You have a light or not?”

“Look more like fifteen darlin’. And I just might have a light,” he said in a thick southern drawl.

“Well, I’m eighteen. I can look younger ya know,” she said with the same sass.

“Lucky for you, or unlucky depending on how you look at it, I wasn’t born last night. There ain’t no way on this planet you are above sixteen at the most,” he said with a smile.

“Okay, I lied, I’m not eighteen,” she said lightening up a bit. “Can I have a light please?”

“Again, kind of young to be smoking, but it’s your lungs,” he said as he dug in his pocket and grabbed at the lighter he carried there. He cupped his hand and lit the cigarette as she puffed at it. He took the time to notice she didn’t inhale and rather puffed at it without drawing in the smoke.

“Appreciate it mister,” she said and puffed once again.

“Ain’t from around here are you?” he asked.

“Just passin’ through,” she said and looked around as if she was waiting on someone. Or possibly scared of something.

“The cops see you out here like this they’ll run you in. You got a place to be?” he asked.

“No place in particular,” she said and puffed once again.

“Just letting you know,” he said and turned to walk back to his truck. He put the groceries in the lockbox in the bed and unlocked the door. After getting inside, he took a second look at the girl waiting near the doorway, continually looking around the parking lot and at the people going in and out of the store like she was waiting on something or someone. He started the vehicle and put it into gear before taking another look at her. When he looked into her eyes a few moments ago, he also noticed she had a look of fear, of anxiousness and of a need for help. She was scared, but he had no idea of who or what. He could have dialed up the Erwin Police and sent out a unit to check on her and debated that for a moment. But in the end, sighed and decided to figure out what she needed before making any judgment calls. He drove back to the entrance, her eyes following him the whole way.

“You need some kinda help? You have the look of someone that’s in some sorta trouble,” he said.

“I’m pretty much good to go,” she said, still looking scared.

“Got anyplace I can give you a ride to?” he asked.

“No, I’ll be okay out here,” she said.

“Listen, while this town is pretty tame for the most part, a pretty young thing like you could get thrown into a van and end up out in the woods with your throat cut after being raped. You sure you’ll be okay?” he prodded.

“I thought the people in the South were friendly,” she said.

“We are for the most part, but just like everywhere else, we’ve got our share of folks that ain’t so neighborly,” he said. “Now can I give you a ride somewhere?”

“How do I know you aren’t one of those less than friendly folks?” she asked.

“I offered the ride as opposed to nabbing you off the street here,” he said reasonably.

“Where you heading?” she asked.

“Back to my place,” he said.

“Which is?” she asked.

“I live on a farm away from here,” he said.

“Mind if I tag along and you can drop me off in the next town?” she asked.

“Hadn’t planned on stopping, but I can drop you off in Unicoi if you like. Ain’t the biggest place in the State, but you might find something there,” said the man.

“Sounds great!” she said and grabbed at a well worn backpack sitting next to her on the ground. Opening the door, she hopped into the cab and put the pack at her feet.

“You want to buckle up?” he asked as he pulled away from the door. She grabbed at the seatbelt and pulled it over, locking it in place. “So, where you from?”

“Originally or where now?” she asked.

“Both,” he said.

“I’m originally from Ohio. Now I’m just kind of going where my heart takes me,” she said.

“And that direction might be?” he asked.

“I was thinking Myrtle Beach,” she said.

“Okay, I have to ask…your folks know where you are at?” he asked, knowing for certain she was a runaway.

“Of course,” she lied.

“Didn’t have enough money for a bus ticket I suppose?” he asked.

“Something like that,” she said.

“They could be worried about you,” he said.

“Mister, thanks for the ride, but I’d rather not talk about my family,” she said.

“Suit yourself. Just being a friendly Southern guy,” he said.

She laughed at the comment and looked out the window at the trees passing by on the two lane highway. The look of fear had disappeared from her face, but the anxiousness still was in her eyes. The remainder of the drive was spent in silence from Erwin to Unicoi Tennessee. He eventually reached his turn off spot by Jones Hardware and came to a stop.

“I’m turning towards home from here,” he said.

“Well, thanks for the ride Mister,” she said. She grabbed the pack at her feet and popped open the door, walking over in the parking lot next to the roadway. When she got there, she looked north and south along the road, wondering what to do next.

“You don’t have any place to go, do you?” he asked after rolling down the window.

“Just where my heart takes me,” she said.

“Listen, it’s going to be dark in a couple of hours and there isn’t any place in town to take you in. You don’t have any place to go and the sheriff will bust you for vagrancy if he finds you sleeping out on a store front somewhere. I’ve got a guesthouse at my place and I can put you up for the night if you want,” he offered.

“I wouldn’t want to impose Mister,” she said, thinking over his offer.

“So you have a place to go?” he asked.

“No, not really,” she said.

“Offer’s only good for now,” he said.

She contemplated his offer for about two seconds before deciding the chance to sleep in an actual bed and take an actual shower appealed to her more than trying to find a place to sleep out again. For all I know, he could be a serial killer, weird axe murderer or some pervert, but I just don’t get that vibe from him she thought and made her choice. She hopped back off the sidewalk and got back into the vehicle. “Just for the night.”

“I wouldn’t have made the offer otherwise,” he said and pulled the truck back out.

“I’m Cindy,” she said.

“I’m Charlie,” he said. “We’ll at least get you cleaned up and fed before we have the chance to talk.”

“Talk about what?” she asked.

“About what you’re running away from and what we can do about it,” he said as they departed the town.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 1

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 2


Cindy had spent a restless night sleeping off and on, worrying about her newfound “friend” from the previous night. Not that she didn’t trust him, but she just didn’t…trust him fully. But she had a plan for that as well. She carried a claw hammer in her bag just in case and had slept with it under her pillow that night, waking up at the strangest sound and slightest creak of the cabin and grabbing it every time in case she needed to use it. But the night had passed without incident and she wondered what kind of situation she was getting into. Plus, she wondered if she should tell him what brought her to this small farm in East Tennessee.

It was going to be daybreak soon and she could see the early morning gray associated with just before the sun began to rise. She rose out of the bed, feeling somewhat uncomfortable wearing the clothing of the man’s dead wife, but until she could get inside and grab her own clothing, she was kind of stuck with it. She looked in the mirror and saw the dark rings under her eyes from the restless night she spent and decided she didn’t need to worry that much about it next time. Her life was in her own hands now and she needed to start thinking on that level. She had a shudder at the thought of what she had been in before and decided it wasn’t so bad being in this strange bedroom in a strange place and with a stranger watching over her. She contemplated taking another shower and decided it would be better if she get it out of the way quickly before getting underway that day.

At the house, Charlie went to the front door after hearing the doorbell and saw his friend Mitch standing on the porch. He opened it up and waved him inside.

“Morning Charlie, how’s Unicoi County’s most famous author doing this morning?” asked the Sheriff as he pulled off his hat.

“About as good as our famous Sheriff. Coffee?” he asked as they wandered through the house.

“Absolutely,” said Mitch as they entered the kitchen. He grabbed a cup since this was not the first visit to the farm he had done before. Lifelong friends since kindergarten, the two got along great and often bounced ideas off each other. Mitch fought against the corruption so evident in a small county sheriff and had very few people in the area he could call a true friend. Charlie was one of the few that he could rely on, thick or thin. But by and large, the county appreciated what he did and had reelected him into his position again by a large majority.

“Kind of early for you to be getting up,” said Charlie.

“One of the deputies called in sick. His wife and kid are down with a stomach bug so I’m filling in on his shift today. Plus your call has me curious,” said Mitch as he poured a cup of coffee. “Eight O’clock brand?”

“Yeah, decided to give it a try after I had that cup at the courthouse. Smells rich,” said Charlie.

After taking a sip, the sheriff decided it was done just fine although a little strong like Charlie typically fixed his. “Okay, you drug me out here at the crack of dawn.”

“Found something in Erwin that has me kind of curious. Young girl, runaway I think. No story to speak of and not from around here either. Says she is from Cleveland Ohio, but her accent is kind of New England. Won’t talk, but looks scared to death at what she came from,” said Charlie.

“You take her to a shelter?” asked Mitch, not that Unicoi County had a shelter for runaway girls.

“No, brought her here,” said Charlie.

“Are you out of your mind? She could be a prostitute, a drug addict, a drug dealer, a thief, a murderer…any number of things,” said Mitch as he ran out of bad things to list.

“No, I don’t think she’s any of those. She doesn’t fit the profile or at least for now. Maybe down the road, but not at the moment. You know me, I like to help people,” said Charlie.

“Yeah, you do. So you called me why?” asked Mitch.

“Well, Sheriff, you always have the answers to this sorta thing. I just bring the problems to you and let you deal with them,” laughed Charlie.

“I can send out a ping with her name and address, but thousands of young girls go missing each year. Like searching for a needle in a haystack, but we could get lucky. However, without a decent address, we aren’t going to get that lucky,” said Mitch. “Name?”

“Cindy Grant or so she says,” said Charlie.

“Physical description?” asked Mitch.

“Five six, maybe five seven, bout one twenty, one twenty five max, dirty blond hair, green eyes, no tattoos I could see, but I didn’t look her over,” said Charlie.

“As I wouldn’t expect you to,” said Mitch. “Is that her?”

Charlie turned and looked where Mitch was motioning his head and sure enough, Cindy was coming through the yard towards the back door. “Yeah, that’s her. She was probably going to sneak out quietly.”

“Pretty thang,” said Mitch. “You know, most older guys picking up a pretty young girl like that have a few things other than helping her on their mind.”

“You should know me better than that,” said Charlie.

“I do and if it was anyone else, I wouldn’t believe them. But yes Charlie, you’re a good guy and wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. Annie, God rest her soul, would come back and haunt you for the rest of your life and you wouldn’t forgive yourself in the first place,” said Mitch.

“Just checking Mitch, some folks might not believe,” said Charlie.

“Let ‘em talk, that’s about all they got these days anyway is the gossip,” said Mitch.

Cindy knocked softly on the back door, but couldn’t see into the house because of the screen door. Charlie met her and opened it up, letting her in.

“I didn’t know if you would be awake yet and I wanted to-” she started and saw the Sheriff sitting at the kitchen table. Suddenly her look turned to fear, shock then anger as she looked at Charlie.

“He can help Cindy, why don’t you sit down and talk to him,” said Charlie patiently.

“I thought you said you were here to help me!” she objected at seeing the law enforcement officer sitting at the kitchen table observing what was going on.

“I am helping you. But you won’t talk to me so I had no other choice. I think you need help, but for the life of me I don’t know what kind. He can help with whatever problems you have. Trust me, I’ve known Mitch Brewer my whole life and if there is anyone who can help you, it’s him,” said Charlie patiently.

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m leaving,” she said and went into the laundry room to grab her items. She was intercepted by Mitch.

“Listen young lady. Charlie Gray is a downright great guy and I trust him without question. If he says you are in trouble and in need of help, I’m going to give it to him. Now we can do this the easy way or the hard way,” said the Sheriff.

“What’s the hard way?” she asked with a hint of sass.

“The hard way is we throw you into a juvenile hall until we figure out who you are and what you are doing here. Then ship you back to wherever you come from,” said Mitch forcefully.

“And the easy way?” she asked more timidly after thinking about the other option.

“You tell me why you are so far from home and what we can do to help,” said Mitch.

“I don’t know if you can help,” she said with her lip quivering.

“Try us,” said Mitch as he swept his hand at Charlie.

“I’m scared…I don’t know what to do,” she said, shedding a tear.

“We just might if you give us the chance,” said Charlie, joining the conversation. She didn’t do anything except look at them with tear filled eyes and a quivering lower lip.

“Last chance,” said Mitch, taking the tough route.

She continued to look at them with a tear streaming down her face. She had no idea if these two could help her and she immediately distrusted any law enforcement since they had been no help before. She had no idea what to do except escape once again when the cir***stances would let her. She had no idea neither one of the men would let her.

“Okay, we’ll do it the hard way,” said Mitch as he got on his radio. “Dispatch, Unit 1.”

“Go ahead Unit 1,” said the voice from the radio.

“Need a female out at the Gray Farm to process a juvenile, female type. Going to process for theft, vagrancy and trespassing,” said Mitch.

“Wait!” yelled Cindy through tears.

“You ready to talk now?” asked Mitch.

“I’m scared…” she said and broke down in tears.

“Darlin, we ain’t going to hurt you. Trust me, this guy will get you whatever help you need,” said Charlie in a soft voice as he handed over a handkerchief.

“I don’t know what to do,” said Cindy, blowing her nose and wiping her face.

“Let us know why you are here, then we will go from there,” said Charlie.

“I…I’ll let you help me. But promise me you will listen to everything I have to say before you do anything,” said Cindy through sniffs.

“Dispatch, Unit 1, cancel last request,” said Mitch into the radio.

“10-4, cancel last request. You need backup?” asked the dispatcher.

“Negative, I’ve got Charlie with me,” said Mitch into the radio. He turned back to Cindy and softened his look. “Want to start at the top?”

“I…” she started and sniffed. “I want to request political asylum.”

“You want to do what?” asked Mitch.

“Be granted political asylum in the State of Tennessee,” she said, clearing up somewhat.

“Umm, I don’t even know if that’s possible,” said Mitch after being hit with the revelation. “But why?”

Cindy sat down at the table and started talking. Who she was, where she came from, how long it took her to get here and what drove her away to start with. She was fifteen years old and from a small community near Rochester New York. And she had another name as well for him to put out on the computer systems, Haseena Hassan. Her father had converted over to Islam three years prior and drug his family along with him including his children. But that’s where the problems just started.

Her father had fallen in with a radical Imam preaching in a small community in upstate New York and his leanings were now closer to being on the dangerous fringe rather than in moderation which many practiced. Upon moving his family closer to the congregation, he also forced the new name change to Hassan and gave the remainder of his children new Islamic names. She had a younger brother and sister and he started enforcing a strict Islamic dress code. The school where they lived was a private one and closed to females of all types. There weren’t that many girl children around, but all were forced to wear the traditional hijab and the full length abaya, and some were even forced to wear the niqāb if their father enforced the strict dress code. And her father was one of those strict fundamentalists who decided his daughter would be hidden from public view at all times. And he started treating his daughters and wife differently. Physical abuse was not uncommon along with punishments for minor transgressions.

“But that’s not why I left. My father told me I was to be married to a man in the congregation, the Imam. He is forty-seven years old and my father told me I was to marry him and keep him happy as it was what Allah wanted,” she cried, thinking over what had happened the previous week.

“Well, that’s illegal. He can’t do that,” said Mitch.

“I KNOW!” she exclaimed through tears.

“Why come all the way to Tennessee though? Why not go to the police up there?” asked Charlie.

“Because the local police are part of the congregation and know it goes on. We are a fairly secluded community and they support what the Imam tells them to do,” she cried.

“No State Police?” asked Mitch.

“I didn’t think of going to them. I managed to steal some money out of my father’s wallet and some old clothing from my mother and run away two nights before I was to be wed to him. I caught a ride to the nearest bus stop and headed south from there. I managed to make it to near Roanoke before the money ran out and I managed to hitch rides from there. I had made it to this town when Charlie found me,” said Cindy crying.

“Heading to where?” asked Mitch.

“I had no idea,” she cried. “Just away from there.”

“And the bruises? Did they come from there?” asked Charlie.

Cindy just nodded her head through tears as she looked at the two.

“I’ve got to ask, but any proof of the claims you just made?” asked Mitch.

“No, they will all protect the Imam there. I saw it once before,” said Cindy as she sniffed repeatedly.

“Give us a minute,” said Mitch as he motioned to Charlie to back away and into another room. “Well, you certainly drop some serious ones in my lap.”

“You think she’s telling the truth?” asked Charlie.

“I’ve got no reason to doubt her,” said Mitch, thinking of what had been said. “I mean, the story could be made up, but it’s not. I can’t tell you why except that little hunch I’ve got.”

“Ever seen anything like this before?” asked Charlie.

“Shoot brother, I ain’t even heard of nothin this crazy before,” said Mitch with a laugh. “But it’s a crazy world, so nothing’s impossible.”

“So what now?” asked Charlie.

“I guess I can run her name through NCIC and TBI to see what pops up. But I’d rather not do it from the terminal in the office,” said Mitch.

“Why not?” asked Charlie.

“I don’t know. Just the funny feeling I get. I’d rather do it from one of the State terminals at the Troopers’ office or in Johnson City myself. Preferably a place they can’t easily track,” said Mitch.

“Again, why?” asked Charlie.

“I’m thinking I might not like what kind of answers I get if we get a hit,” said Mitch. “And let’s just play this out. Let’s say for a moment what she told us was true. Her parents are going to want to come get her or we bring her to them. Now I ain’t about to take some young girl who should be worried about a prom date back to be married to some dirty old man. I put her name out across the TBI terminal and it comes back with a hit, especially if she was reported missing. The hit is traced back to my office. It gives them a place to start looking. And I’d rather keep her under wraps until we can figure out what she said is true.”

“You thinking they might come get her if they know where she is?” asked Charlie.

“Probably would,” said Mitch.

“Crazy,” observed Charlie, not being able to think of another word to use.

“I’m rarely shocked in my life. Can’t say I’ve seen everything, but not too many things in this life surprise me. But I will admit this is in my top three if it pans out,” said Mitch.

“So what do I need to do?” asked Charlie.

“You want to keep her for the time being while I think this over? Plus I’ve got to tell someone about it, just a few trusted folks,” said Mitch.

“Is it legal? The whole political asylum thing?” asked Charlie.

“No…well, I don’t know. Depends on how you look at it. I mean, political asylum means you are escaping a place because of your political beliefs and whatnot. Religion is in there as well I think. I mean, she doesn’t want to be in her current environment. But anyway, it’s about whether or not the State is allowing it to happen,” said Mitch.

“So is that a yes or a no?” asked Charlie with a laugh as his friend often spoke out loud when he was thinking.

“That’s an I honestly have no idea,” said Mitch. “I mean, it doesn’t sound right, but I’m not a legal expert.”

“Funny predicament for a law enforcement officer,” laughed Charlie. “Let me make a call and ask.”

“Your lawyer bud in Gray?” asked Mitch.

“Yeah, give me a few,” said Charlie as he went back into the kitchen where Cindy was still sitting. “We’re working on it.”

“What do I need to do?” she asked, still red eyed from crying.

“Finish the dishes like you promised,” he chuckled and grabbed a planner with numbers in the contacts list. He found the number he wanted after looking through several pages. Grabbing the cordless phone, he walked outside and dialed the number.

“Hello Jimmy, Charlie Gray here…yeah, I know it’s early, but I’ve got a question for you…hypothetical situation kind…say a person from New York wanted to claim political asylum in Tennessee, is that possible…listen, you called me drunk as a skunk in the middle of the night once, so you can forgive me this time…no, I’m not drunk…yeah, hypothetically…well, I don’t know, that’s why I’m calling you…come on Jimmy, you’re the lawyer, didn’t something like this ever come up at law school…no…well, it’s not like I can Google the answer you know, it’s kind of complicated…any kind of legal precedent you can think of…well, call it a favor, but I’ll hire you for time if it becomes too much…okay, maybe not so hypothetical…no, I’d rather just keep this between you and me for the moment…I haven’t set foot in New York in seven years if it’s been a day…no, I’m not in any kind of trouble…let’s call it a friend…well, now that’s the problem…yeah…maybe…okay, they’re a minor…no parents in the picture for the moment…we might say that’s part of the problem…okay, how about Tuesday at your office…alright, consider yourself hired…yeah, I’ll take this morning’s fee from the money you still owe me for the deer last fall...okay, see you in a few days.”

“Jimmy Kellogg says he might be able to research it and help,” said Charlie as he walked back inside and found Mitch in the middle of his own calls.

“Mayor says this place is as good as any, but I didn’t give him specifics. His quote: ‘that Charlie Gray guy is as good as anyone even if he’s not on the list.’ It’ll take me at least two days to find a decent foster home in any case, so I think you are qualified. I’ll have the county sign off on your paperwork today declaring you as a foster home and make this legal,” said Mitch.

“And the rest?” asked Charlie.

“I’ll have to make a trip into Johnson City to do what I need,” said Mitch.

“I ain’t so comfortable with having a potential fugitive in my house,” said Charlie. “Might not look so good with me being a single guy and her a fifteen year old girl.”

“It’ll be fine. Trust me, the entire county would come out and give character references for you,” said Mitch.

“I know, I just worry about the situation in case it came up,” said Charlie.

“Trust me, you’ve got far more important things to worry about in the long run,” said Mitch.

“Such as?” asked Charlie.

“Like how much teenagers eat,” laughed Mitch. “Now let her know we’re working on it and to stay put for the moment.”

“Game this out for me, what happens if her family wants her back?” asked Charlie.

“Then we present her testimony and ask for an investigation by New York Child Protective Services,” said Mitch.

“And if they come up with nothing?” asked Charlie.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” said Mitch.

Charlie returned to the kitchen where Cindy was actually finishing up the dishes. He saw she was in a little better sorts than she had been earlier, but that kind of emotional trauma wasn’t easy to cope with and she might need someone to talk to eventually.

“Come on over and have a seat. I’ve got a few questions for you,” said Charlie.

“Okay,” she said and wiped her hands on the dishrag and put a pan in to soak. She sat down cattycorner to him at the table and put her hands on the table.

“First off, we’re working on it. Gonna take some time, but patience is a virtue. In the meantime, do you have a place to stay?” he asked, knowing the answer in advance.

“I can’t stay with you?” she asked.

“Well, that’s an option, but not one I’m particularly comfortable with. I mean, you’re a pretty young girl and I happen to be single. Lots of rumors get started that way,” he said.

“Well, I can stay in the cabin can’t I?” she asked.

“Suppose you can, but I’m offering the chance to stay with a foster family until we figure out what to do with you,” said Charlie.

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d rather stay here. I mean, I don’t know anyone else,” she said.

“Well, you don’t really know me,” said Charlie.

“I know you better than anyone else around here. Are you a bad person or something?” asked Cindy.

“No, I’m not a bad guy. At least I don’t think I’m a bad guy,” he chuckled.

“Anything I should know about?” asked Cindy with a hint of a smile.

“I don’t like to do the dishes,” he said with a grin. It seemed to set her at ease.

“I think I can live with that flaw. Yes, I would like to stay here,” she said.

“Okay, as long as you’re comfortable with it,” said Charlie. “But I have a few ground rules if you plan on staying. Sure, you’re my guest, but you have to earn your keep around here.”

“Okay, what are they?” she asked.

“You have to work hard, if you don’t know how to do it, I’ll show you. You keep up with your school lessons if and when you happen to still be around when school starts. And you mind your manners. You may think you’re sassy and stubborn, but you’ll find me the most stubborn mule this side of the Mississippi. I ain’t gonna yell at you, beat you or nothing like that, but I do expect you to mind your manners ‘round me. Can you accept this?” asked Charlie.

“I don’t have another choice do I?” she asked.

“Foster home in the county somewhere,” he said.

“No, I can accept it,” she said. “Besides the dishes, anything else?”

“We’ll figure that out as we go along,” said Charlie.

“May I ask something? A favor?” she asked.

“Which is?” he returned.

“I’m kind of sassy, I know. My father calls it impudent, but anyway. Can you bear it a little? I’ll try to watch myself, but please let me know if I step out of bounds,” she asked.

“I think I can agree to that,” said Charlie.

“And what now?” asked Cindy.

“We wait for Mitch to make a few calls and figure out what’s going on,” said Charlie.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 3

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 3 CONTINUED

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 4


As Charlie and Cindy were walking out of the Wal-Mart, a voice from the side stopped them.

“Charlie Gray! You just gonna walk on by without saying hello?” a female voice demanded from the side.

“Hi Mary,” said Charlie as he immediately recognized the voice. “How are you?”

“Doing good, haven’t seen you around in a while,” said Mary with a smile.

“Farm’s kept me busy this year. Rain’s been good for the crops,” said Charlie with a smile.

“Who’s this pretty little girl?” asked Mary.

“This is my niece from Ohio,” said Charlie.

“Hi, I’m Cindy,” said Cindy as she stuck out her hand.

“Hi, I’m Mary Worthington. I didn’t even know Charlie had a niece,” she exclaimed.

“Family is spread out,” she said.

“Charlie, I’ve been missing you lately. You haven’t come into town like you used to,” said Mary, turning back to Charlie and pretty much ignoring Cindy. It was fairly obvious who the object of Mary’s attention was by the eyes she flashed at Charlie.

“I come through from time to time,” said Charlie patiently.

“Not what Barb or Julie says. They said they haven’t seen you in a month of Sundays,” said Mary. “You need to stop by a little more often.”

“Well, with harvest coming up, it’s going to be hard to get into Erwin like I usually do,” said Charlie.

“I’ll tell you what, you come on down and I’ll make you another one of those blackberry cobblers like I did that one time,” said Mary.

“I’ll see to it I stop by next time I’m in,” said Charlie.

“You know where to find me. I’m always at the drug store,” said Mary. “Funny I ran into you here in Johnson City though. I was on a trip to Kingsport to pick up some stuff for the store and I remembered I was out of sugar. And wouldn’t you believe it, but the IGA Store was out of the ten pound bags of sugar. I never buy those five pound bags, just don’t seem to last. So I saw the Wal-Mart on my way off the highway and figured I’d give them a try. It’s cheaper at the old Whites, but the manager said he didn’t know when they were getting more in and I don’t want to wait. I mean, it would end up being like that time we all had to wait on the big cans of JFG Coffee and they didn’t get it in for six months. But anyway, I remembered I needed more sugar and I was out this way and-”

“Uncle Charlie? We’ve got that roast in the oven,” said Cindy, politely interrupting and seeing the expression on Charlie’s face. She barely knew him, but the expression of “help me” was the same the world over.

“Yeah, we do. Hate to cut it short Mary, but we’ve got to get running. Cindy here is cooking up a roast and we just came out for a quick trip,” he said.

“Well, don’t you be a stranger. You swing on by and sit down for a glass of tea,” said Mary. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you too ma’am,” said Cindy.

“You take care Mary,” said Charlie.

“Always do,” she said with a smile. “Bye now.”

After Mary entered the store and was out of earshot, Cindy had to ask. “Who is that woman?”

“If you ever want to know anything about anybody in the town of Erwin or Unicoi County, all you need to do is ask Mary. She’s the town gossip,” said Charlie.

“Her voice is like nails running down a chalkboard. But she seems to like you,” said Cindy with a giggle.

“Yeah, Mary has been after me a few years now. Tried to console me after Annie died, but just wouldn’t take the hint I’m not ready to move on yet,” said Charlie.

“When a woman gives you the eye like that, it’s kind of obvious,” laughed Cindy.

“Figure the whole town will know I’ve got a niece within about two days,” chuckled Charlie. “Thanks for saving me.”

“You looked like you needed help. I’m not the only one that needs saving from time to time,” said Cindy.

“Might just keep you around,” laughed Charlie.

“I’m glad she noticed I’m still a little girl,” said Cindy with a tone.

“That’s just Mary being Mary. Anyone under the age of twenty five is a little girl to her,” said Charlie with a chuckle.

“And the rest of the day today? Besides the roast I’m cooking?” asked Cindy.

“Back to chores and you get to try out your new duds,” said Charlie.

“Can’t I cook a roast or something instead?” she chuckled.

“Moving hay is good for you,” said Charlie.

“How’s that?” asked Cindy.

“You’ll see,” said Charlie.

“And I can’t just cook dinner and call it good?” she repeated.

“No, unlucky for you I put a ham in before we left,” said Charlie.

“Ham…” said Cindy and her voice trailed off.

“You don’t like ham?” asked Charlie.

“Haven’t had it in several years remember?” said Cindy.

“Yeah, I forgot. We can do something else if you prefer,” said Charlie.

“No! I’d eat a whole pig about right now,” said Cindy.

“Okay, ham it is,” laughed Charlie.

The drive back to the farm was spent talking once again and once they returned, Cindy changed clothes to do the chores he had requested she do. Had she refused, he would have ended up doing it himself, but she had “volunteered” and came into the barn in her new work clothing.

“Take from the back, the part closest to the wall and move it on over to the door. The neighbors are coming by to pick them up tomorrow. You can help load then too if you want,” said Charlie.

“Just stack them up somehow?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, ‘bout four high should be okay,” he said and went back to organizing and moving items around.

She went over and saw the bales were stacked up five high, almost out of reach for her, but she grabbed at the wire and pulled the first one off the top.

“Best be careful doing that. That pile comes down on you and it’ll be hard to get to you quickly,” warned Charlie.

“These are heavy!” she exclaimed.

“Bout fifty, sixty pounds. They can get heavier,” said Charlie.

“And you expect me to move them all over there?” she asked.

“I can help if you want it,” he offered. “I mean, you might not be strong enough to do it.”

“No, I think I’ve got it,” she said and looked at the bale on the ground. One way or another, she would prove to him she wasn’t some wimp who couldn’t move the simple weight around.

He went back to sharpening the blades taken from a riding lawnmower and watched her out of the corner of his eye. She initially tried carrying it up and down, but failed as it continued to slip out of her hands. She tried lengthwise as well and found she couldn’t grip her hands around the bale. Eventually she remembered having the gloves stuffed into the cargo pocket of the BDU pants she had on and grabbed it by the wire and managed to get it over to the doorway. Finding the best way of carrying it took several tries, but she seemed to have a good system going after the first five. But it wasn’t easy work as she grunted at attempting to lift the bales and carry them over. She noticed he was watching her carefully, although not being obvious about it.

He thinks I won’t be able to do this by myself, but I’m going to prove him wrong. I can do this no problem she thought as she figured out the best way of moving the bales around the large stack and to the door.

He continued to perform his own details in silence as she continued to move the bales. She was learning a valuable lesson right then and he was teaching her silently.

********************

“Hi, this is John Williams from the California State Patrol. I have this number listed on a hit we got on a juvenile contact,” said Mitch Brewer into the clean cell phone.

“What was the name of the contact?” asked the voice at the other end.

“Cindy Grant. Does that name sound familiar?” asked Mitch.

“Yes,” said the voice evenly.

“Are you her father or legal guardian?” asked Mitch.

“Yes, I am her father,” said the voice calmly.

“Name please,” said Mitch.

“Mohammed Hassan. And technically my daughter is Haseena Hassan,” said the voice.

“I have her listed by only Cindy Grant. What was the other name?” asked Mitch.

“Do you have my daughter in custody?” asked Hassan.

“I am unsure of that. One of our patrols asked us to run it by name and date of birth. We came back with a hit,” said Mitch.

“The date of birth was?” asked Hassan.

“I was hoping you could verify the date of birth for me to confirm the validity of who you are,” said Mitch.

“Her birthday is 10 October 1995. Do you have her in custody?” he repeated.

“Again, I’m not sure where the patrol got the information from,” Mitch lied.

“What arrangements can I make to get my daughter back?” asked Hassan.

“We typically bring them to you,” said Mitch. “But we have some other concerns as well.”

“Such as?” asked Hassan.

“Well, typically runaways feel they have a reason for leaving. We will request the New York State Police conduct an inquiry into your home environment before we turn her over,” said Mitch.

“For what reason?” asked Hassan.

“Just for precaution. It is not meant to doubt your story, but we have to be certain her well being is cared for,” said Mitch.

“Her home life is of no concern to you. I want my daughter back,” said Hassan.

“You are awfully calm for someone whose daughter is missing,” said Mitch.

“My daughter is fairly impudent and a liar. She will say anything to whomever cares to listen,” said Hassan.

“Your daughter made some claims we have to have investigated before any transfer of custody will take place,” said Mitch.

“So you do have my daughter,” said Hassan.

“What is your current address so I might have the proper New York officials make the inquiry?” asked Mitch.

“My current address is of no concern. I want my child back right now,” said Hassan calmly again.

“But you have to understand, she has made claims that must be investigated,” said Mitch.

“Children often make outlandish claims. Why is this going to be any different in the case of my daughter?” asked Hassan.

“The cir***stances surrounding the claims are unusual to say the least. We as a law enforcement agency are not comfortable turning over that child to your custody until the questions have been answered,” said Mitch.

“I want my child back,” said Hassan.

“After we contact the proper authorities in New York, this will be done,” said Mitch.

“I will come get her instead. You will waste my time and she is already behind on her duties,” said Hassan.

“I’m sorry, but until an investigation is complete, there is nothing more to discuss,” said Mitch.

“Where are you located?” asked Hassan.

“You will be notified by the proper New York officials of when and where she will be available,” said Mitch.

“Time is of the essence. I want her back now!” growled Hassan.

“Why is time of the essence? She is safe under out custody here,” said Mitch.

“It is of no concern to you, but she has certain duties to perform,” said Hassan.

“What duties might those be?” asked Mitch.

“She has a certain meeting she must attend for her future. That is all you need to know,” said Hassan.

“I’ll be in touch with the New York authorities,” said Mitch as he ended the call. He felt a chill run down her spine as her father had all but verified the claims she had made. He would have to check further, but there was a good chance the claim of the arranged marriage was real. A fifteen year old could make up a lot of stories, but this was one that typically wouldn’t enter their mind unless there was some truth to the matter. Such an outlandish tale could easily be refuted until an official investigation was made. And until such time, Mitch would ensure she was protected as was his job as Sheriff.

Mohammed Hassan looked at the phone and the fast dial tone it was beeping at him since he had yet to hang up. He wasn’t sure if the person who called was who they claimed to be and had been prying a little too much for his tastes. He put the phone on the receiver and thought about the conversation he had just had.

Mohammed Hassan, formerly known as Stephen Grant was living in a small planned community of Muslims in upstate New York. He had practiced many forms of religion before deciding Islam was his preferred choice in his life, but had one thing in common with each of them. Each religion he practiced he took his zeal to new levels. While many were content to live their lives in full devotion to God’s work, Stephen Grant went above and beyond practicing the religion in complete control of his life, and in turn his family’s life and any other life he could preach it to. His devotion to whatever religion he happened to be practicing bordered on fanatical and relentless in his pursuit of demanding others believe what he believed. But all his life he had searched for more than just what Judaism, Christianity, Catholicism, Buddhism and others were teaching. He finally found what he was looking for three years prior in the form of Islam and immediately converted and changed his life to the calling of Allah and Mohammed his prophet.

But he still wasn’t content until he fell in with the group in New York. The extreme teaching of the Imam there made him realize even the more moderate groups of Muslims in the United States had fallen away from the true faith. And so he had packed up his family and moved to the small community near Rochester. Being secluded from the main city, they had the freedom to practice the highly volatile version of Islam without interference from the outside and to train new warriors for the coming fight he predicted. His wife, two daughters and son had been given new names in accordance with his religion and he had forced the conversion of them all. And the conduct of the women would have been considered harsh even by the Taliban standards. His wife and two daughters were always fully clothed from head to toe and nobody was able to see their faces. His son was being taught the proper role of a Muslim male in the private school and he had hopes to send him off to the more advanced school in Pakistan later in his life.

But the phone call had him worried. His eldest daughter had disappeared one night not to be seen again. The local law enforcement had been contacted and a report filed, but they had not seen her since she slipped away quietly one night. But for her to turn up in California was unusual. She had been resistant to the teachings of the community since their arrival and had been punished on several occasions for impudence. She was being stubborn, much like he was, but it was her role to be obedient in the community and a roll she needed to learn. His wife had admitted to missing some clothing after a savage beating by him and the members of the community, but had no other knowledge of her leaving. But then again, it wasn't completely unexpected as she had already gone to the police attempting to stop the planned marriage to the Imam. But being good members of the faith, they had reported her behavior to him and the Imam and she had been dealt with.

But one thing was for certain, his daughter needed to be brought back to the fold before she dishonored his family. He needed her pure for the Imam’s wishes and the longer she was away, there was more of a chance of her being compromised. Plus the added attention given by law enforcement peeking in on what was going on and the State social workers stood a good chance of wrecking the harmony of the community.

After thinking for several minutes, he departed to find the Imam and solicit his advice. Surely he would know what to do.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 4 CONTINUED

********************

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 5


The alarm went off at 5:00 AM as it always did. Charlie was the kind of person who could be up and at the world within fifteen seconds of the alarm going off. He stretched out his arms over his head and rolled over to look at the picture of Annie as he always did. And as always he wondered what his life would have been like had she still been alive. His daughter would have been in school by now had everything that transpired not happened. He rolled out of bed and grabbed at the shirt sitting on the chair next to the bed. He had no serious plans for the day as the hay bales had taken care of themselves yesterday, well, not by themselves, but he did like having the “hired hand” around to help out. Besides the neighbors coming over to grab the hay bales and the trip to the grocery store, he had no serious plans. The chickens needed to be fed, coops cleaned out and the fields checked on, but nothing more serious than that. Just a lazy Saturday for a change. But Charlie was one of those people who tended to make work for himself rather than just sit around.

He walked downstairs and put on a pot of coffee and took in the morning, watching the sun come up from the east in vibrant reds, oranges and yellows. He thought to go out and wake up Cindy, but she needed her rest after her work yesterday. She wasn’t used to the hard labor farming often entailed and he needed to take it a bit easier on her since she could get hurt without conditioning into it first. Since there wasn’t anything serious on the horizon that day, she could take the day to rest up. And of course there was Sunday and church. He wasn’t sure how to approach her about it and decided to make it her choice. She had enough religion shoved on her from her family so she claimed, and he didn’t want to add to that if he could avoid it. But he had no idea what to do with her while he went to church. He would play that by ear as it came up.

The coffee was sputtering into the pot and he had enough for a cup. Pouring it out, he went outside to the chicken coops and checked on his flock. He didn’t keep many chickens around, but enough to keep him in eggs, fresh meat and some extra to sell at the farmer’s market from time to time. It was still fairly early for them but once he appeared, they knew it was morning time and came out of the coop and into the pen area. He tossed out the cracked corn and they went slightly nuts as they typically did. His rooster would typically lead the charge into the feed but this morning was behind the rest of the group as he peeked out of the coops. Charlie checked the coops for fresh eggs and found several hens had laid in the past day. Not wanting the eggs to go to waste, he gathered them up and decided on eggs and bacon for breakfast this morning. The flock was still outside, making quite the racket as they typically did and scratching around in the pen at the feed. The coops could wait until the afternoon to be cleaned out and he had good plans to put the old straw and shavings into the garden plot he wasn’t using that year. By the next year, it would be fertilized very well and should produce his record crops as he always did.

“Those are some noisy creatures,” drawled Cindy as she came walking out of the cabin wiping the sleep out of her eyes.

“Sleep okay?” he asked.

“I don’t remember,” she groaned. “I’m sore from the hair down.”

“You overdid it yesterday. Take it easy today,” said Charlie.

“No objections from me,” she said and looked at the chickens. The Rhode Island Reds continued scratching at the feed he had put out and ignored her for the most part except one. It wandered over to her and looked up with its head ****ed at an angle as chickens do. Eventually it went back to scratching in the dirt for the feed. “They are kind of cute.”

“I wouldn’t get too attached. One of them is supper soon,” said Charlie.

“Are they always this loud?” she asked.

“Only when they are being fed and when a predator is nearby. Kind of like an alarm system,” said Charlie.

“How did I get into my bed? The last thing I remember was being at the kitchen table,” asked Cindy.

“I carried you in and put you there,” said Charlie.

“And I didn’t wake up for this?” she asked.

“Didn’t even stir one bit,” said Charlie.

“I’m typically a light sleeper,” said Cindy.

“Not last night. You were dead on your feet,” he chuckled.

“Plans for today?” she asked.

“Well, the Reynolds’ are coming over this morning to pick up their hay and I’ve got some further arranging to do in the barn. Grocery store this afternoon and hadn’t planned on supper just yet. Anything on your mind?” he asked.

“Isn’t Saturday a day off or something?” she laughed.

“Not so much on a farm. Sunday’s our day off,” said Charlie. “Except for football season.”

“Something special then?” she asked.

“Cindy, you’re in the middle of Volunteer Country; football’s like its own Saturday religion around here on those days. Especially since we sent that idiot out to USC,” he chuckled.

“And when does this happen?” she asked, never really a serious fan of football.

“September,” he said. “So no other grand plans for the day?”

“I’m just along for the ride,” she said and yawned once again.

“You could go back to sleep for a while. I hadn’t planned on breakfast just yet,” he said.

“No, I’m awake already,” she said and took in the morning. “It is peaceful out here.”

“Yeah, nice in the mornings,” said Charlie.

“Even yesterday it was fairly quiet,” said Cindy.

“Yeah, gives a person time to think,” said Charlie.

“Sometimes thinking is a bad thing,” said Cindy.

“Okay, I’ll give you that,” said Charlie as he finished up in the coops and headed back to the house with Cindy in tow. The eggs were placed in the refrigerator except for five he kept out for breakfast. He grabbed the bacon from the bottom drawer and set it out on the counter along with the mixing for the biscuits. She watched him intently as she was not used to having a man around to do the kitchen work. But at the same time, she wanted to do something and asked to help.

“You ever make biscuits from scratch?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said.

“Buttermilk biscuits?” he asked.

“Yes, finally a ‘Southern’ thing I know about,” she laughed.

“From flour and everything?” he asked, confirming.

“Yes,” she said patiently.

“Have at it then,” he said and waved his hand at the White Lily flour and remainder of the mixings.

“How many do you want?” she asked.

“I’ll have two and however many you want,” he replied.

She measured out the portion for four of them and started mixing everything up while he got the stove ready for the bacon and the eggs. They sat in silence as he really had no idea what to say about then, but was curious about her to say the least. He wondered how Mark’s quest for information went yesterday and figured he would be getting paid a visit from his friend. Cindy was busy getting herself messy and making up the dough for the biscuits while he got everything else ready. She did happen to notice he had the eggs from the coops that morning.

“Ummm, are we eating those?” she asked.

“Yes, why?” he asked.

“Aren’t they supposed to be processed or something?” she asked.

“Why would they?” asked Charlie.

“Well, they just came out of the chicken practically. Aren’t you supposed to, I don’t know, do something with them first?” she asked.

“Well, I’ll wash them off, but no, nothing special needs to be done,” he replied.

“Is that safe?” she asked.

“Eggs in the supermarket come from the same place these do. These just happen to be quite a bit fresher than the ones you get from there. Trust me, don’t knock this until you try it. Best eggs you’ll ever have,” he said.

She watched at him suspiciously while he continued to get the items ready and warmed up the stove. She had seen him grab a spatula out of the drawer and used her pinky finger to open it up and look for the rolling pin and cutter after the dough was ready.

“What are you looking for?” he asked.

“A biscuit cutter and something to roll this out on,” she said.

“Wax paper is in the next drawer down and…hold on,” said Charlie after seeing her hands. She had been kneading the dough by hand and had the sticky mess all over herself. He grabbed the roller, wax paper and the biscuit cutter and set them on the table for her. She went back to what she was doing and started rolling out the dough, making quite the mess in the process. He remarked at the scene as well.

“Well, I’m cleaning it up, I can make all the mess I want to,” she replied.

“Suppose so,” he said as he watched her cut the four biscuits out and set them off to the side. There was only a little left over and she got ready to through it away. “Hold on, I’ll toss that in as well.”

“What for? It’s not even half a biscuit,” she replied.

“Because we don’t waste food around here,” he said patiently.

“Is there something special to do with the wax paper?” she asked.

“Yes, I use that as fire starter in the woodstove,” he said.

“Nothing goes to waste does it?” she asked.

“Nothing I can think of. I try to be as frugal as I can,” said Charlie.

“Sensible,” she said and watched as he put the biscuits in the oven and started on the bacon in the skillet.

“One question I have for you though,” he said as he poked at it with a fork.

“Yes?” asked Cindy.

“That day I picked you up, you had a cigarette. Why and where did you get it from?” asked Charlie.

“I got it from the truck driver that dropped me off at the off ramp,” she replied.

“And why did you have it?” he asked.

“Dunno, guess it was my rebellious side coming out. Wanted to feel older or something,” she said.

“Stupid habit to get into,” he said.

“I know, just me being a dumb teenager,” she said.

“I can relate,” he chuckled.

“And I noticed you took the beer out of the fridge,” she said.

“No sense in having temptation around for you,” he replied.

“I wouldn’t have drunk one,” she said.

“No, but there is no sense in me having it around you. I can do without it,” he said.

“You planning on keeping me a while?” she asked with a smile.

“Only until the hay gets moved out of the barn,” he laughed.

“Ugh, maybe I should seek shelter elsewhere,” she laughed.

“Just until we find a better place for you or until we figure out what New York is going to do,” said Charlie.

“But I can stay here if I want to?” she asked.

“Why would you want to?” he asked.

“Haven’t gotten any better offers. And I guess I’m already kind of comfortable here,” said Cindy.

“You don’t even know me,” he said.

“So there is something bad about you I need to know?” she asked.

“Not that I can think of off the top of my head,” he laughed.

“Is there any reason I shouldn’t want to stay here?” she asked.

“None that I can think of except the fact I am a single man and you are a teenage girl,” said Charlie.

“I don’t get that vibe from you; so I figure you’re pretty harmless,” said Cindy.

“You have a talent for reading people?” he asked.

“A little I suppose,” she answered.

“No, I don’t think I’m a bad guy. You’re fairly safe,” said Charlie.

“So besides not having the slave labor of moving your hay, is there any other reason you wouldn’t want me around?” she asked.

“Reckon I can’t think of a good reason,” he said.

“So may I stay here until we figure out what’s to become of me?” she asked once again.

“I suppose I can endure your company,” he said with a chuckle. “I mean, who else is going to move my hay, chop the wood or clean the chicken coops?”

“I have no idea what I’m getting into do I?” she asked with a laugh.

“Nah, I’ll take it easy on you,” he said as the eggs were broken and put into the pan. “How do you like yours?”

“Fried will be okay,” she said. He added in the other two in the pan, cutting at the sides to keep them where they were supposed to be. While they were cooking up, he went to the fridge and grabbed the milk, butter and jelly and set them on the table. The eggs were finally finished and he set everything out on the table while she got the items from the stove, making work for herself since she felt quite useless at that moment. He said the blessing and they began to fix everything for the meal. She tried the bacon first and found it acceptable, the biscuits she couldn’t complain about since she was the one that prepared them, but had yet to try the eggs. She finally figured out she couldn’t avoid it and wondered what the local hospital was like after she contracted salmonella. But much to her surprise, the eggs were outstanding.

“These are really awesome!” she exclaimed and took another bite.

“Told you. There’s nothing like a still warm egg first thing in the morning,” he said.

“I’ve got a lot to learn about farming and the country life,” she said.

“Sometimes simple is better,” he said.

“No other plans for the day?” she asked.

“I did forget I needed to go by the hardware store and pick up my chainsaw. Took it in for a repair not too long ago,” he said.

“That little place down the road?” she asked.

“Yeah, you remembered that?” he asked.

“I kind of have a photographic memory,” she replied after taking another bite of the eggs.

“That’s a nice talent to have,” he said. “Bet you are good in school.”

“Yeah, I was until my father decided to pull me out. Said a woman’s place wasn’t in school, but to tend to the family,” she said in a neutral tone.

“Sorry I made you remember that,” he said.

“No, it’s okay. Do you understand why I did what I did?” she asked.

“I can completely understand that,” he replied.

“Do you believe me?” she asked and set the fork down.

He stopped and set back from the table, thinking of the question. “Cindy, I’ve seen a lot of crazy things in my life. Heard of things even crazier. But never in my life would I ever have imagined something like this going on in the United States, much less figure on meeting someone it happened to in upper East Tennessee. I’ve got no reason to doubt you, but you have to understand, it is kind of farfetched.”

“So you don’t believe me?” she asked.

“I didn’t say that. All I said was it is farfetched,” he said.

“Is that a yes or a no?” she asked pointedly.

“It’s an ‘I’m going to wait and see.’ I’ve got no reason to doubt your story at all. I take things I hear at face value unless I know for a fact the person is lying. I think you are telling the truth. I’ve got no reason not to believe you do I?” he asked.

“No, you don’t,” she said.

“Yes, I believe you. It’s going to be easy enough to verify and let the State do what they need to do,” said Charlie.

“I just want to make sure you aren’t just doing these things out of pity,” said Cindy.

“No, I wouldn’t be doing this because of pity,” he said.

“So why are you doing it?” she asked.

He thought about the questions and couldn’t come up with a decent answer right then. He had no idea why he was doing it. “Dunno, just felt like the right thing to do,” he finally answered. It was a good enough answer for the moment and his feelings were something he never questioned.

“Thank you,” she said in a quiet voice.

“No problem,” he said, still wondering what exactly made him stop that night. It was a question he hadn’t really thought about until that time and needed to think on it more later when he could be alone. The telephone ringing broke him out of his concentration and he went over to answer it.

“Hello…yes, we’ve got it all stacked up…this morning should be okay…no, don’t really have anything planned…yeah, come on by…okay, sure…all righty, see you in a bit,” said Charlie as he hung up the phone.

“Your friends coming for the hay?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, coming over in about an hour or two. You want to help?” he asked with a grin.

She groaned and stretched. “Only if I get to pass on the dishes this morning.”

“I can do it, no big deal,” he said.

“No, it will help me work out the soreness,” said Cindy.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 5 CONTINUED

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 6


Leaving the coops, he saw Mack Reynolds’ truck coming down the driveway pulling a trailer. Mack was behind the wheel and his son was in the passenger seat. Charlie motioned them over to the barn while locking up the yard and walking over towards the area. Cindy saw the truck and stopped what she was doing and went over to help.

“Morning Mack,” said Charlie as he got closer.

“Morning Charlie. How are things out here?” asked Mack.

“Can’t complain,” said Charlie. “Got your stuff ready in the barn.”

“Brought up the beef like we discussed. Already cut,” said Mack. “Toby, run that on over to Mister Gray’s house.”

His son stepped out of the truck and grabbed a large cooler from the rear. It looked fairly heavy, but Mack’s son had grown up quite a bit since the last time Charlie had seen him. “Toby, you know where my deep freezer is?”

“Yes sir. On your back porch right?” asked Toby.

“That’s the one,” said Charlie as Toby went on his way to drop off the beef.

“Wasn't as much as the last time, but hopefully it will be enough,” said Mack.

“No big deal Mack. Stuff’s going to rot if I don’t get it used up anyway,” said Charlie. “That Toby sure has sprouted this past year.”

“Put on an inch and a half and twenty pounds. Eats like a teenager as well,” laughed Mack.

“He playing football again?” asked Charlie.

“Yeah, but I’m afraid he’s getting too big for running back this year. Probably move him up to the line,” said Mack.

“School could use some shoring up on that end. But they could use a good tight end as well,” said Charlie.

“Yeah, talked to the coach the other day. Toby’s going to miss summer camp, but the coach said it wasn’t a big deal,” said Mack. “Who’s this?”

Charlie turned to see Cindy standing behind him wiping her hands on her pants after taking them out of the rubber gloves. “This is my niece, Cindy.”

“Ma’am,” nodded Mack and followed with “I didn’t know Charlie had a niece.”

“Big family,” said Cindy taking the outstretched hand.

“That’s my boy, Toby,” said Mack as he nodded at his son walking towards the house. “He’s a shy one and probably won’t say much.”

“I’ll introduce myself when he comes back out,” said Cindy.

“You from New York or something?” asked Mack.

“Ohio,” said Cindy.

“Charlie, hate to rush you, but we’ve got to get this stowed and head on out to the pasture. Have to set in some new fence posts and put the rails back up. Got knocked out in the storm last week,” said Mack.

“Tree fall on it?” asked Charlie.

“Yeah, that big elm. Got hit by lightning and split the largest branch off. Planning on cutting the whole thing down since it keeps dropping limbs on my fence,” said Mack as they walked into the barn.

“You planning to keep the wood?” asked Charlie.

“Yeah, use it for firewood after it seasons,” said Mack.

“Let me come up. Might be something I can use if you don’t mind. If so, I’ll replace it from the stuff on my property,” said Charlie.

“You’re welcome to it if you can use it,” said Mack. “This the stuff?”

“Yeah. Oldest stuff from the back,” said Charlie.

“Looks to be in good shape,” said Mack as he looked over the pile.

“I’m sure your cows won’t mind it,” said Charlie.

“Toby, go ahead and drop the gate on the trailer,” said Mack as his son had reappeared behind them. He went over and dropped the gate on the truck as Charlie and Mack put on gloves to grab the bales and toss them into the truck. Toby had already gotten on the trailer to put them in the back.

“Can I help?” asked Cindy.

"Long as you don't overdo it, sure," said Charlie as he grabbed the first bale. She slipped on the flight gloves and grabbed at another, the soreness starting to come back. The raking had worked her muscles loose, but her arms started to protest as she grabbed the first bale. But again, she was determined to do what she needed to do and carried it over to the truck. Toby was on the trailer and grabbed the end and pulled it out of her hands. She moved a little slower, but had two other people helping her out so the moving wouldn't be as hard. By the time she made her fifth trip, Charlie and Mack had already moved close to ten. She grabbed one more and moved it towards the truck before she was stopped by Charlie.

"You've done enough, that's your last one," he said as he passed her and took another bale to the truck.

"I can get one more," she said.

"Nope, last one and take a break," he said and grabbed another off the ground. She was about to argue until her arms told her a different story. She went to the truck and hauled it up before it was snatched away by Toby. She leaned against the bumper of the trailer and watched as Mack and Charlie grabbed the remaining bales and moved them over. She did take the time to notice Toby was ignoring her, focusing entirely on the work. She wasn't sure why, but she didn't see him look at her any. She figured she would at least introduce herself and try to be sociable.

“Hi,” she said to Toby as he came back to the edge of the truck. He just looked at her and smiled shyly before grabbing the next bale of hay brought over. Cindy wondered if it was a lost cause and decided to go back to the garden plot where she had been raking. After the remaining bales were loaded, the two men took a break as well.

"Want a cup of coffee? I think the pot is still on," asked Charlie.

"Might as well," said Mack as they walked towards the house.

"That Toby's going to be as big as a barn door when he's done growing," said Charlie as he got out another cup and filled it for Mack.

"Getting there. 'Bout to eat Jen and me out of house and home," laughed Mack as he took it and had a sip.

"Lucky enough, Cindy doesn't eat all that much," said Charlie.

"How long have you had her?" asked Mack.

"Only a few days now," said Charlie.

"How long is she going to be around?" asked Mack.

"Don't know yet. Her folks are having troubles," said Charlie.

"Gonna enroll her in school?" asked Mack.

"Again, depends," said Charlie. "You talk to your brother in law lately?"

"The other day," said Mack.

"If you talk to him, let him know his rifle is ready. Got it finished up the other day," said Charlie. "I was going to call, but I figured you wanted to take a look at it before he bangs it up."

"That one for his big hunting trip?" asked Mack.

“Yeah, the .338 Magnum. Did the stock up in curly maple and got everything finished up. Kind of pretty if I say so myself,” said Charlie as they wandered into his study and got the rifle out of the weapons safe. It was a hand crafted bolt action Charlie had put together himself after the customer had supplied the parts and labor fees. It would have easily fetched $2,000 plus in a gun store since it was “hand crafted,” but Charlie enjoyed working with his hands and had only accepted a nominal fee. He did it more to prove he could rather than for money. Mack looked over the rifle and cleared it out as was his custom. He brought it up to his shoulder several times looking over the barrel each time.

“Nice, it lines up perfectly and the pull is just right,” he observed and cycled the actions. “Very smooth on those actions.”

“Trigger is nice as well,” said Charlie. “I’ve never tried those Montana Actions, but I’m thinking I found a new toy to play with.”

“Controlled round feed?” asked Mack.

“Yeah, like the old Winchesters,” said Charlie.

“Sure is a pretty thing,” said Mack. “You know, you don’t have to call my brother in law about this. I could just sneak it out and he wouldn’t ever know.”

“The way he abuses stocks I might just let you. I tried to get him to go synthetic, but he wouldn’t budge. Just likes the look of wood too much,” said Charlie. “And it is a nice piece of maple.”

“Well, much as I would like to continue admiring your work, I’ve got to run,” said Mack as he handed the rifle back over.

“When I get more hay, you want to pick it up?” asked Charlie.

“Nah, I think this will be okay for the moment,” said Mack. “Let me get my boy and we’ll be on our way.”

The two exited the house and found Toby leaned up against the truck with Cindy back in the garden raking out the remainder of the litter. Mack shook Charlie’s hand and thanked him again for the hay. After Toby had gotten in, they departed and headed back to his farm. Charlie wandered over to Cindy while she continued raking.

“I’ll be over in the barn once you finish that up,” he said.

“Okay, shouldn’t be much longer out here,” she said and continued to rake without stopping.

Charlie wandered over to the barn and looked at the item on the large table. He observed it from several angles before picking up a piece and looking at it in detail. There was some corrosion on it, but nothing that couldn’t be fixed with a little work. He put it up against the other part it was supposed to be attached to and found it was still a good fit. Finding a wire brush, he started removing the larger areas of rust, inspected it and did it again. Eventually he found it to his liking and set it down and grabbed another piece. As he worked, Cindy came in from behind him and watched silently. Finally the silence was too much for her and she had to say something.

“Just curious, but how much do thirty bales of hay go for these days?” she asked.

“In this case, went for thirty pounds of beef,” said Charlie, not stopping what he was doing.

“Like a trade?” asked Cindy.

“Yeah, like a trade,” said Charlie.

“Why not money?” she asked.

“Because some folks can’t afford to pay me what it would cost. So instead I work out a trade that they can afford. Mack raises cows and slaughters them from time to time and sells off the meat. Plus he keeps some back for his family, but anyway, he traded me the beef for the hay. Works pretty well for us both,” said Charlie as he continued to scrape at the metal part.

“I didn’t realize they were poor,” said Cindy.

“They aren’t poor, they just don’t have a lot of money. They have a roof over their heads, food on the table and clothing on their backs. Being rich doesn’t always mean you have money,” said Charlie.

“I never thought about it that way,” said Cindy.

“Too often, folks don’t. They tend to think if you don’t drive a big fancy car or live in a big house with a gold plated toilet, you are ‘poor.’ But as long as you have something to eat, a place to sleep and a coat on your back, you have about everything you need,” said Charlie.

“You’re kind of smart aren’t you? But you like to break things down into simple terms?” asked Cindy.

“Smarter than some I suppose, but not others. Average I would think,” said Charlie as he finished up with the piece and set it down.

“What are you doing there?” she asked.

“Cleaning off these parts. Rust was setting in,” said Charlie. “I’ve got to go to the garden and check on the plants. Want to come along?”

“Got nothing better to do,” she said.

“Grab one of those baskets over there,” he said and picked up one himself. Some of the veggies were already prepared even though it was only mid summer and he never let anything go to waste in his garden. He typically ate or canned what he grew and kept the trips to the grocery store to a minimum of once every two weeks. And he also always bought in bulk when he could for the things he couldn’t raise.

“What are we picking out today?” she asked.

“Probably got some tomatoes and cu***bers ready to go. Maybe a couple of heads of cauliflower, peppers and onions. Just depends on how the rains have been lately,” he said.

“You always been a farmer?” she asked.

“No, not really. I grew up around them and found it was the best, healthiest and cheapest way of providing food for myself. No sense in getting stuff out of the grocery store when I can grow it myself,” he answered.

“You sell what you grow?” she asked.

“Yes, of course,” he replied and looked over the field. It was four separate plots, but it was lush and the different patches were growing nicely. One plot of two acres was dedicated to corn, another three acres was wheat, another two to canola and a half acre was for standard vegetables. A fence surrounded the smaller garden to keep the wildlife out and a natural spring flowed nearby which also provided an outlet for his watermelons, cantaloupes and other vegetables that needed a lot of water to grow. His small farm was efficient and he typically sold his excess at the farmer’s markets in the area and to the larger companies that canned food. But the benefit was the fact he always had food on hand. They went through the fence in the garden and over to the cu***ber patch and found some of the large cu***bers and the small seedless ones ready to be picked. He went through, picking at the small weeds that had started to grow in the patch. He hadn’t thought to bring out a basket for weeding to take the small plants back to the composter.

While he had a fairly decent sized farm for the area, he tended it mainly by himself. But three days a week, he had some of the local high school students come in and assist with tending to the weeds, picking the vegetables and other maintenance issues around the farm. Most were handpicked over the summer looking for work and Charlie wanted to put locals to work as opposed to the migrant workers that came in looking for jobs. However, last week, most of his help had been away and he had done most of the work himself. Although with Cindy around now, she could help out.

The farm was a fairly efficient grower and he had weekly trips from the food processing people to pick up what he had grown. While they took the majority to be canned or used in other applications (the canola was being used for biodiesel production), he sold some at the local farmers market in Erwin and sometimes in Johnson City. Other times, he had people coming directly to his farm to hand pick their own. It turned a tidy profit for him since the goods were handpicked and “organic” which appealed to a certain market.

“What about these tomatoes?” she asked as she was in the next patch.

“They look ripe?” he asked.

“They’re red…and yellow,” she said.

“Go ahead and grab them. Grab the vine and pull instead of trying to yank it off the plant,” he said.

“And the cherry tomatoes?” she asked.

“Yes, them as well. Want a treat? Try them straight off the vine, especially the yellow ones,” he said.

She went on her way picking both the large and small tomatoes and had one of the small ones. For some reason, it did taste better than the ones she had from the grocery store before. “These are really good.”

“Always are out of the field,” he replied and moved on to the next patch. He showed her how to tell the onions were ready to be picked as he had staggered out the different planting times for them to keep him in onions over the winter. Some were the Vidalia types and others were the red and yellow varieties. Two heads of cauliflower were ready as well and he cut the stems near the roots and set them in the basket. Finally he was finished and they went back to the house.

“Hungry yet?” he asked. “It’s a little early, but better to go grocery shopping on a full stomach.”

“Yes, anything in particular we are having?” she asked.

“Just a simple sandwich,” he said and washed up from the morning’s chores. She followed him and did the same in the kitchen sink as he got out the sandwich making materials. After she turned, she wondered what new concoction he was planning on making and had to ask.

“I’m making a peanut butter and banana sandwich,” he said.

“A what?” she asked.

“Peanut butter and banana. Some people like them with mayonnaise, but I never cared for the taste. There’s other stuff if you want it,” he said.

“I’ll try half a sandwich, is that okay?” she asked. She liked peanut butter as well as bananas, but had never tried them together.

“Good enough for me,” he said as he sliced off the pieces of banana and put them on his sandwich. She did the same thing after he was finished and slid the pieces on her piece of bread after watching him. He said the blessing and grabbed a bag of chips from the cupboard. After taking a bite of the sandwich, she figured it wouldn’t kill her.

“Told you so,” he said after seeing the look on her face.

“It’s just…some strange foods around here,” she said and took another bite.

“I’ve got a questions for you though,” he said.

“Which is?” she asked.

“Why are you working so hard?” he asked.

“Dunno, just like to keep busy I guess,” she said.

“It’s pretty hard work that you are doing,” he observed.

“I know, but nothing wrong with working hard is there?” she asked.

“Reckon not…just not used to seeing a teenager do hard work without being prompted to do so. I’ve got a bunch of youngins I bring up here around harvest to help out. They do what they have to, but I have to keep after a few of them,” he said. “If they weren’t getting paid, I figure they would just be sitting around looking at each other,” he said with a chuckle.

“You mean I could be getting paid for this?” she laughed and took a drink of milk to wash down the sticky peanut butter.

“You are getting paid for this, it’s called room and board,” he said.

“Guess so,” she said and started preparing another half a sandwich and finishing off the banana. She grabbed the peel and went towards the garbage, but wondered if there was something special he did with them. “This goes where?”

“Into the small can right there with the paper bag. That’s what goes into the composter,” he said.

“Why the paper? Doesn’t that take longer to decay?” she asked.

“Not really. Works the same as the others, but only the brown paper ones,” he said.

“How much trash do you actually produce?” she asked.

“Not as much as you might think. I recycle as well, the plastics, paper and cardboard go to the county center, the metals to a place in Johnson City, food scraps into the composter or to the chickens, yard waste into the composter or into one of the piles. Wood scraps for the stove in the winter. Sawdust into the chicken coops or onto one of the piles. Don’t have a lot I have to get rid of,” he said.

“So you’ve been going green for a long time?” she asked.

“Suppose that’s what you might call it. I’m not really an environmental type, just don’t like for anything to go to waste,” he said.

“You’ll have to school me on what to keep and to throw out around here,” she said.

“You’ll figure it out along the way,” he said as they finished up the brief lunch. “You go on and grab a shower. When you’re finished, we’ll head for the grocery store.”

“Okay,” she said and put the plate in the sink and saw she needed to do the dishes again that night. Heading out to the cabin, she laid out her clothing and grabbed a quick shower. Her arms started to feel sore from doing the work, but it was a good hurt. She finished up quicker than normal and got dressed before going back to the house. She had a ton of questions about Charlie she wanted to ask, but still couldn’t think of a good way to bring them up. She found he had showered and changed already and was busy checking his e-mail.

“You ready to go?” he asked without looking away from the computer.

“Whenever you are,” she said.

“This trip is mainly for you. Since you claim we eat weird things here in the South, it’s best for you to pick out some things you might be more comfortable with,” he said.

“You don’t have to do that,” she said.

“I know, but I’m doing it anyway,” he said as he locked the computer and headed out of the house. He locked the door behind him and jumped into the driver’s seat of his truck. Which reminded him of something. “You know how to drive?”

“No, I haven’t learned yet,” she said.

“Okay, I’ll teach you when the time comes,” he said.

“How about right now?” she grinned.

“How about we pretend like I didn’t hear that. I ain’t teaching a teenager to drive on the roads around here. Maybe later in the middle of a large parking lot with nothing to crash into,” he chuckled.

“I bet I’m a good driver! You just wait and see,” she exclaimed.

“Later, we’ll figure that out,” he said and put the truck into gear before departing the farm for the grocery stores in Erwin. Like many, he avoided the Wal-Mart near Unicoi and went into town to the IGA and Food Lion, feeling more comfortable with the stores that had been around a while.

********************

“You said the policeman was from California?” asked the uniformed policeman.

“That is what he said and the number is from California as well,” said Mohammed Hassan.

“We called the California State Patrol and nobody had run your daughter on their computer system. They keep records of all individuals who they run but weren’t able to find any record of her,” said the policeman.

“Perhaps you could continue to check where this man claims to be from?” requested the Imam, his words more of an order rather than a request.

“Of course we will sir,” said the policeman.

“And how long will it take?” asked Hassan.

“I don’t know. I’ve never had to do that before and we will have to contact the State Police for assistance,” said the policeman.

“Is it possible California made a mistake? I have a brother in Northern California,” said Hassan.

“It’s possible, the State Police Headquarters in California said they have been known to make mistakes and will continue to check it out. Even computers make mistakes,” said the policeman.

“Is it possible for your daughter to have gone to California?” asked the Imam.

“Yes, I haven’t spoken to my brother in many years, but it is possible she headed that way looking for safety,” said Hassan.

“What kind of questions did this policeman ask?” asked the policeman.

“He asked if she was my daughter and asked for her date of birth as verification. He also said she made claims as to her home environment. He didn’t specify what claims she made, but it’s possible she told others about her arrangements here,” said Hassan.

“Did you mention what the arrangements would be specifically?” asked the Imam.

“Of course not. They don’t need to know,” said Hassan.

“So the community is protected for the moment?” asked the Imam.

“I would believe so,” said the policeman.

“What will happen now? If this man is a policeman as he said he was what kind of inquiry could we expect?” asked the Imam.

“We will probably be paid a visit by the Child Protective Services. They will investigate, but they will find nothing. Everyone here knows better than to talk of our arrangements with outsiders. Plus they always ask for the local police to assist as well. And you should know how we will assist,” said the policeman.

“Do we have anything to fear?” asked the Imam.

“I would think not. They will investigate and find nothing and she will be returned,” said the policeman.

“Should we change her status to kidnapped?” asked Hassan.

“No, it’s better to leave it as it for now. Putting her in as kidnapped raises too many questions. If she is in the custody of any police agency, it would be best to leave it at that,” said the policeman.

“So what do we do now?” asked Hassan.

“We wait for the investigation by the Child Protective Services. Again, if she is in the custody of a law enforcement agency, she will be okay and returned in due time. But for the moment, we just need to wait,” said the policeman.

“I believe this is our best course of action,” said the Imam. “It is time for prayer. Will you join us?”

“Of course,” said the policeman as they walked towards the mosque and took off their shoes. The policeman needed to borrow a prayer rug after washing his arms, face and symbolically washing his feet. The remainder of the community was coming in for the mid day prayer and the policeman knew his place was here.

Additionally he knew the local Child Protective Services Agent was fairly new at his job. And being fairly new, he could easily be swayed by the testimony of both the police and the residents of this community. And if not…there were other ways of dealing with his curiosity.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 7


I honestly have no idea what to do Mitch Brewer thought as he sat in his office thinking of the situation with Charlie and the runaway. The County Mayor had not really been much help with just “do what you feel is right.”

Well, the right thing to do is to start a formal inquiry, but who knows where that will lead. And in the mean time, what happens to her? Do we keep her around here until New York makes up their mind? And what happens if what she says is true? We need some sort of confirmation on her story, but from a neutral source. We could bring in a professional to figure out if her story has merit, but I can feel she wasn’t lying about it. I have no idea why, but just a gut feeling I get from the whole deal. I’ve never really had to deal with Muslims, but from the news, this would be right up their alley. I wish I had someone I could talk to about this…

“Sheriff? We’ve got a problem out on the south end of the county again. Rock slide on I-26,” said a Deputy as he poked his head in and brought Mitch out of his thoughts.

“Bad?” asked Mitch as he stood up and grabbed his hat.

“Don’t know yet. Got a call from trucker on his way through and said he almost got hit. I’ve got Ken and Brian heading out that way,” said the Deputy.

“Okay, I’ll head out there. Do me a favor and give both the Tennessee and North Carolina State Patrol a call and let them know,” said Mitch as he was heading out the door. As he walked out of the court house and towards the parking lot, he continued to think about his problems and trying to find a way out of it. A way out that was acceptable to all.

As he headed out of town and onto the onramp of I-26, he started formulating the report in his mind and how he needed to word it carefully. He also wondered who he might get to be the child psychologist to talk to Cindy. He didn’t know of any personally and would ask the hospital staff who they might recommend. But until then, he had a job to perform and headed towards the rock slide to see how bad it was.

But even as he drove south towards North Carolina, his mind was still clouded by the problems his friend had dropped in his lap.

********************

“Get everything you wanted?” asked Charlie as they moved down one of the aisles in the grocery store.

“I think so,” she said. “This place isn’t that big.”

“Big enough for Erwin,” said Charlie as he nodded at several people and stopped to chat with others. It seemed like he knew just about everyone in the store and Cindy wasn’t used to what appeared to be strangers stopping to talk. She had spent her life mainly in larger urban areas where people tended not to know each other as much and was surprised at the small town atmosphere. She was introduced several times as his “niece” and everyone had the same comment…

“I didn’t know you had a niece.”

But Charlie was able to explain it all away by saying his family had tracked him down and he had a long lost brother in Ohio. It didn’t really explain her New York accent, but people didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t say anything. They politely introduced themselves and went on their business. After going through the grocery line, they went out to the truck and loaded everything up in the back seat and the cargo box.

“I’ve got a question. Why do you call it Whites when the sign says IGA?” asked Cindy.

“Force of habit. Whites was the store name before they were bought out by IGA a couple of years ago,” explained Charlie.

“Are you resistant to change?” asked Cindy.

“Some would say I’m set in my ways,” he chuckled. “Need anything else while we are out?”

“How about more clothes?” she asked with a grin.

“How about no?” he laughed.

“Well, you asked,” she said and hopped into the passenger seat.

“There was something else I wanted to ask you about…” he started as he pulled on his seatbelt.

“Which is?” she asked.

“I normally go to church on Sundays. I can understand if you are kind of turned off by the whole religion thing right now,” he said and started the truck.

“I’m not against religion, just religion that forces me into marriage. You go to a Christian church?” she asked.

“Yes,” he answered.

“I can go if you want me to,” she said.

“No, what do you want to do?” he asked as he pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the highway.

“I don’t know. I mean, it’s been a while since I was in a Christian church,” she said.

“Your choice,” he said as they waited for the light to turn green and turn left onto the Interstate.

“Would you think less of me if I asked not to at least this week?” she asked.

“No, I wouldn’t at all,” he said.

“Are you sure?” she asked.

“Well, I’d like to go, but I don’t have anywhere to stash you for the two hours I’d be gone,” he said.

“So by me not going, it means you aren’t going either?” she asked.

“That’s about it,” he said.

“I can go, it’s not a big deal,” she said.

“If you aren’t comfortable yet, I can understand,” he said. “I think one week away won’t kill me.”

“Thank you for being understanding,” she said.

“No problem, but you have to remember, we aren’t like them,” said Charlie as they pulled into the nearby Wal-Mart.

“We need to grab something here?” she asked.

“Just a couple of things,” he said and parked in the lot near the store.

“Clothes shopping?” she laughed.

“You are killing me. Do you need another outfit?” he asked.

“No, I was just joking,” she said.

“Okay then,” he said as they entered the store. He went back to the automotive section and grabbed a couple of items off the shelf and tossed them into the basket. Continuing on, he found a few other items and grabbed them as well. He was interrupted in his thoughts by Cindy.

“What are the Blue Devils?” she asked.

“Local high school team mascot,” he replied without looking.

“Oh…what are you getting?” she asked.

“Just some things for the car,” he said, continuing to look.

“The engine in the barn?” she asked.

“The rest of the car happens to be in the other larger shed,” he replied and found what he was looking for and dropped it into the basket.

“You never told me that,” she said.

“You never asked,” he said and peered into the sporting goods department. Nothing new caught his eye at that moment, but he did peek into the gun racks which reminded him to call John Pickens about his rifle. He wanted Mack to see it first, but needed to call the true owner of the rifle for him to come pick it up.

“You own a lot of guns?” asked Cindy from behind.

“Not as many as some,” said Charlie.

“You ever answer a question directly?” she asked with half a smile.

“Sometimes I do, sometimes I don’t,” he said with a grin and not looking at her.

“Are you making fun of me?” she asked with a grin.

“Me? Nooooo!” he said with a laugh. “See anything that you need?”

“Clothes?” she asked with a smile.

“You can use Annie’s things, I don’t mind. Just sitting up there anyway,” he said.

“I don’t know exactly how to say this, but I’m not exactly comfortable with using your wife’s clothing. I mean, I understand it’s kind of sitting up there, but you know?” she asked.

“Especially since she is dead?” asked Charlie.

“Well…yes,” she said after a moment to pause.

“Okay, so let’s say if she was alive, would you mind it then?” asked Charlie.

“Probably not,” said Cindy.

“I could have gotten rid of it long ago, but just couldn’t bring myself to do it. I don’t know why since some of them are practically brand new items and someone could use them, but I always kept them around for…I don’t know,” he started to say.

“To remember?” she asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know,” said Charlie.

“I don’t know everything about what happened, but me wearing your wife’s clothing won’t help you remember her any more than you do already,” said Cindy.

“That’s not the reason why,” said Charlie. But is it the reason why? Her wearing Annie’s old clothing makes me remember her?

“Okay, I’ll take a look through, but no promises though,” said Cindy.

“I…you have to understand, it’s taking me a while to get over Annie’s death,” said Charlie.

“I understand, but sometimes in life we have to move on,” said Cindy very bluntly.

“Maybe I’m not ready to move on,” said Charlie defensively.

“I didn’t mean you needed to move on. Forgive me for being blunt,” said Cindy.

“No, it’s okay,” said Charlie as he looked away.

“I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I’m sorry,” said Cindy.

She was just speaking her mind, like others have done as well. Maybe not so bluntly, but they say the same things using other words. Is it time for me to move on? Maybe so. And it takes a fifteen year old to tell me this? Maybe I was pushing a little too hard. “Come on over here,” he said and started wandering towards the clothing aisle.

“No, not today. You feel guilty now and I can’t accept that. Why don’t you think it over and later if this is what you want to do, then we will do it,” said Cindy.

“I’m offering,” said Charlie.

“I know, but not today,” said Cindy stubbornly.

“Maybe some other day,” said Charlie.

“Maybe so. Come on, the groceries are getting warm,” said Cindy as she tugged on the basket towards the check out aisle.

“I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable,” said Charlie as he walked the direction she was tugging.

“And I’m sorry as well,” said Cindy.

“Nah, you didn’t say anything that most people have said already. Most of them are just more subtle about it,” said Charlie.

“I’m impudent, remember?” she laughed.

“I reckon so,” laughed Charlie and went to the checkout counter.

********************

Mitch rolled up to the rockslide and where his Deputies and State Troopers were diverting traffic around the worst of the slide. It wasn’t bad enough to shut down the entire Interstate, but would require attentive driving on the part of the drivers and careful monitoring by the police on scene. Seeing everything was going smoothly as it should, he pulled over to the side of the road and got out just to check on everyone and make sure they were doing okay. He continued thinking about his dilemma while he was walking between the posts until a voice stopped him.

“Hey good lookin,” said a female voice from behind him.

“Well, hey pretty thang,” he said to Trooper Sarah Brock.

“They bring you all the way out here for a little gravel slide?” she asked.

“Figured I’d come up and take a look. Never know how bad it will be, especially since that slide down on 40 from before,” he said.

“And not because I’m up here?” she asked coyly.

“Just an added benefit of the job,” he said with a smile.

“The State has crews on the way, we shouldn’t be out here more than another hour or so,” she informed him.

“I didn’t see you my first time around, did you pull up since then?” he asked.

“Yeah, bringing the guys out some water. You need anything?” she asked.

“Nothing talking to you won’t cure,” he said with a smile.

“You’re sweet, you know that,” she laughed.

“I know,” he said. “Want to join me as I finish up the line?”

“Sure, let me grab the water out of the car,” she said and returned to her cruiser. She grabbed a backpack, dumped the contents into her trunk and put the bottles of water inside. After slinging it up, he offered to take it away.

“No, I can carry it,” she said, politely refusing him.

“I can carry it, no big deal,” he said.

“I’ve got it. You know I do the hiking thing and this isn’t anything compared to what I carry on a weeklong trip,” she replied.

“Well, if you get tired, let me know,” he said as they continued up the steep incline to the next post.

“I’ve got a question though. I meant to call you about it the other day, but forgot about it,” she said.

“Sure, what’s on your mind?” he asked.

“Well, you forgot to clear the cue when you ran those plates on my computer,” she said. “And they weren’t plates.”

“Yeah…” he said and his voice trailed off.

“Want to tell me why you got a hit on a person of interest from the Department of Homeland Security and the FBI?” she asked.

“Honestly, you don’t want to know,” he said.

“Don’t want to know or shouldn’t know?” she asked.

“Probably both,” he said.

“What’s going on Mitch?” she asked. “And you could just have easily run that person from your terminal in Erwin.”

“Sarah, I don’t know if I should be telling you. But I can say I’ve gotten myself into something kind of odd,” he said.

“Odd as in bad?” she asked.

“Maybe, I don’t know yet,” he replied as they reached the next Deputy on the traffic control. She handed him over a bottle of water and they continued their trek up the mountainside.

“Mitch, if you need help, you know I will if you ask me,” she said.

“I know, but I’m not sure whether or not to get any more people involved than I already have. It could get pretty bad,” he said.

She stopped and turned to him. “Mitchell Brewer, what is going on?”

“Okay, but it stays between you and me, okay?” he asked.

“I can keep secrets,” she said.

“Okay, it goes like this…A friend of mine picked up a runaway the other day in Erwin. Called me about it and asked for advice. She had quite the story to tell about why she was running away from home and I was doing a bit of investigating. I didn’t want the inquiry being able to be traced back to my terminal since it would give people a place to start looking. I used your terminal so I could be somewhat anonymous. I’m sorry I lied to you, but I did it for your own protection,” he explained.

“Okay, but you still haven’t told me what her story is,” said Sarah.

“She claims to be from a predominately Muslim community in upstate New York and claims her father is forcing her into marriage to a man thirty years older than she is,” he said. “So she ran away.”

“And how old is she?” asked Sarah.

“Fifteen,” said Mitch.

“And this guy is forty-five?!” she exclaimed.

“Yeah, so I used your terminal to figure out if they had put out an alert for her. It’s not an Amber Alert yet, which it should have been, and her father seemed fairly uncaring about the whole thing,” said Mitch.

“You spoke to him? What did he say?” she asked.

“Pretty much confirmed what she told us, although didn’t tell us about the marriage thing. Said she had an important appointment that would affect her life she needed to attend,” he explained.

“And that could have been more than a few things Mitch,” said Sarah reasonably.

“True, but I don’t get the feeling this is made up. I mean, why make up such an outlandish tale we could easily refute?” he asked.

“Yeah, it would be pretty easy to disprove something like that. Have you initiated a request to New York to check out the home yet?” she asked.

“No, I wasn’t sure how I was going to do that,” he admitted.

“I can help walk you through it. It typically goes from the State level anyway,” she said.

“Right now, they think I’m from California,” he explained.

“Why did you tell them that?” she asked.

“For her safety just in case this turns out to be true. I don’t want them looking anywhere within the State of Tennessee for her until we figure this mess out,” he said.

“You are taking a big chance on this girl you know? I mean, if she is lying, you are harboring a runaway and not returning her to her family like you should do,” said Sarah.

“I know, but it’s one of those things. I have a gut feeling this isn’t being made up Sarah,” said Mitch.

“Well, the only way to find out is to have New York check it out,” said Sarah.

“I know…you want to become my willing conspirator in this?” he asked with a nervous chuckle.

“Yeah, we’re a regular Bonnie and Clyde all right. No, I think you are right, the less I get involved in this the better until we can figure some of these things out. For the moment, I would rather just help you with the request forms and get that sent to Nashville,” she said.

“Thank you Sarah,” he said.

“You owe me at least dinner for this,” she said.

“Fair price to pay and I get to spend it in your company,” he said with a wink.

“Probably a whole lot more than just dinner then,” she said with a wink of her own. “And yes, I know I should stay out of it.”

“I was just looking out for you,” said Mitch.

“So who’s she staying with anyway?” asked Sarah.

“Well, she’s at my-” he started but was interrupted by her.

“Ahhh! Nope!” she said with a raised finger stopping him. “Don’t tell a soul unless they really need to know. If this does turn out to be true, it could get ugly and only those who really need to know get to know.”

“You’re pretty smart you know?” he said with a chuckle.

“I know,” she laughed.

“When do you want to take care of this?” he asked as they resumed walking.

“Monday will be okay. I’ll come visit you for a change and help you out with the forms,” she said.

“Dinner that evening?” he asked.

“I think I can schedule something in just for you,” she said with a laugh.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 7 CONTINUED

********************

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 8


Cindy woke up in the morning in another strange environment before figuring out she had dozed off on the couch in the living room. Once she tried to move, she found her body was still very sore from the work she had been doing and thought it best not to move too quickly until she got the opportunity to stretch out. She heard the coffee pot sputtering from the kitchen but didn’t hear Charlie. She attempted to be quiet, but still wasn’t fully awake and involuntarily stomped her feet as she went towards the kitchen. She looked out the back window and saw him standing over near a decent sized cherry tree near what appeared to be two stones. She pulled on her sandals left in the house and walked towards him, still not fully awake and still stomping her feet on the ground.

“Any reason you are stomping your feet?” he asked as his solitude was broken by her heavy footsteps.

“Didn’t realize I was,” she said and peered at what he happened to be looking at. She hadn’t been paying attention and saw the two stones were actually grave markers. Seven more markers were slightly behind the tree and off behind a vine covered fence. “I’m not interrupting anything am I?”

“No, just something I always do on Sunday morning,” he said quietly.

“Is that…” she started to ask and didn’t know quite what to say.

“Yes, that’s my wife and daughter,” he said and turned to face her. “Sleep okay?”

“Don’t remember,” she said. “I can go back to the house if you want to be alone.”

“No, it’s okay. Time I headed back in anyway,” he said and started back towards the house.

“What time did I fall asleep?” she asked as she followed him.

“Somewhere during the movie. Don’t recall exactly when,” he said

“How did it end up?” she asked.

“Good guy won in the end and got the girl,” he chuckled.

“About how it always is,” she laughed. “You cooking this morning or am I?”

“You want to give breakfast a go?” he asked.

“Yeah, sure,” she said. “Eggs again?”

“Why not? They’re free,” he said.

“We need more?” she asked.

“Probably do. I make it a point to check out the coops every morning,” he said. “You feeling brave enough to take on the mutant chicken horde?”

“As long as I don’t get attacked again,” she laughed, thinking of the foolishness she showed the day prior.

“Come on, I’ll show you how to divert their attention,” he said and grabbed his cup of coffee. They went out to the chicken coops where the flock was getting out of bed as well with the roster crowing at the early morning sun. He opened the gate and the chickens immediately looked at him as they usually did this early in the morning.

“Okay, go grab that shovel,” he said.

“That little one?” she asked.

“Yeah, bring it on over here,” he said.

The chickens had been conditioned to know the shovel meant the dirt would be overturned and the bugs and worms underneath would be exposed. They immediately followed her into the yard as she brought it back over towards him.

“Go ahead and dig it in. Don’t throw the dirt, just turn it over in say two or three places. They’ll go after the bugs and leave us alone. Also grab some of that corn feed and toss a handful or two out. They’ll love you for it,” he said.

She did as instructed and turned over the dirt, the flock watching her the entire time making low clucking sounds while they looked at her. After she flipped over the first shovelful, the birds went crazy trying to be the first one to get in and find the bugs. She went over to another spot and dug up the same amount and watched as about half the flock went to the new location to find the treats she had uncovered. She laughed at the actions of the chickens and grabbed two handfuls of the feed and tossed it into the yard, averting the attention of the remaining birds that hadn’t gotten into the turned dirt.

“Okay, that will keep their attention diverted for a few minutes. Let’s go get the eggs,” he said, but noticed one was following her around. It was the same one who had taken a keen interest in her yesterday. “Looks like you have an admirer.”

Cindy turned and saw the chicken following her around the yard, stopping when she stopped and looking up at her and moving when she did. “Is this normal?”

“Guess she thinks you are her mother or something,” laughed Charlie.

“Seriously,” said Cindy.

“I don’t know. She hasn’t done that before,” he replied.

“Why is she so attracted to me?” asked Cindy.

“I couldn’t tell you. They have their own mind,” said Charlie.

“Does she have a name?” asked Cindy.

“Nope. I don’t name them since I don’t want to get too attached,” said Charlie.

They went into the roosting area and found several hens had laid over the previous day. A small basket was used to collect the eggs and to check on the nests. No serious maintenance was needed this morning and when they turned around, Cindy saw “her” chicken had followed them inside.

“I think you have your very own pet chicken,” he chuckled.

“I’ve never had a pet before,” she admitted. “Kind of an odd first pet you know?”

“I’m sure there have been stranger,” said Charlie as they walked out and closed the door behind them. The hen followed them all the way to the fence as the others were still scratching around for the feed and bugs except the one. She followed them all the way to the fence and continued watching until they entered the house.

“You’ve never had a pet before?” he asked as she started on breakfast.

“No,” she said and left it at that. He didn’t want to pry any more about it considering her home background and let the matter drop. “Scrambled okay?”

“Yes, that’s fine. Why don’t you heat up some of that ham as well,” he suggested.

“That sounds good,” she said and pulled out the ham from the refrigerator and grabbed two large slices. The biscuits were also coming along as she got everything ready for breakfast. It was a little easier this morning since she knew exactly how much ingredients to use for the biscuits, although she made an extra one that morning. “I’ve never heard of White Lilly Flour before.”

“Best stuff in the world for baking, but I think it’s kind of regional,” said Charlie.

“Never saw it up north that I can recall,” she said as she rolled out the dough and cut the shapes out. Again, the leftover was rolled into a ball and put on the pan as well. Since they would take longer than the eggs, she put them in the stove and went back to the table and had a small glass of milk while she waited. Charlie had his ever present cup of coffee while looking over the Johnson City newspaper. The front page news wasn’t that exciting for a Sunday morning and the remainder of the paper really didn’t say a whole lot. He breezed over the sports section and saw the sportswriters were giving the Volunteers a better than even chance at cracking the top 25 that year since the returning players had the opportunity to season and they were returning a great deal of starters. With the off season they had the year prior, they certainly needed to do something amazing this season.

Charlie interrupted his thoughts about football and went over to refill his cup of coffee. Cindy checked on the biscuits and decided it was time to go ahead and heat the ham and start the eggs. Things went a lot quicker after that as the smells filled the kitchen. The eggs were done quickly and the biscuits not long after and breakfast was served. After Charlie said grace, they both dug in and enjoyed the second full meal cooked by her.

“Since you aren’t going to church this morning, what are you planning on doing?” she asked.

“Thought I might go out and check on the property,” he said. “You’re welcome to come along.”

“How much property do you have?” she asked between bites.

“Two hundred acres give or take. The land deeds were done before good surveying equipment came out and the back line is kind of hazy. It borders on the National Forest so it’s not a huge deal. Makes for a pretty big backyard,” he said.

“Two hundred acres is a lot,” she observed.

“Been in my wife’s family for ‘bout a hundred years, actually a little more. They had the property after moving out here from Virginia…oh say 1900 or so and bought it up with their life savings. Been in her family ever since,” he said.

“Probably worth a fortune,” she said.

“It is on the market, but one of the things they left in their will was the property never be sold off to anyone outside the family or in pieces. I haven’t ever gotten it appraised, so I really have no idea what it’s actually worth,” he said.

“Yes, I’d like to go along. Does this mean I need to dress up in my work clothing?” she asked.

“The boots wouldn’t hurt and pants would be recommended since the stinging nettles will be out in force, especially near the stream,” he said.

“Stinging nettles are kind of like poison ivy, right?” she asked.

“Not as bad. Bad enough though. They give you a sting when you touch the plant itself with bare skin,” he said.

“But not like a rash or anything?” she asked.

“Sometimes, just depends on how bad you get into them,” he said. “You also have to be careful of poison oak.”

“Sounds pretty bad,” she said.

“No, you just need to know what to look for,” he said.

“Could you show me?” she asked.

“You really want to learn about that kind of stuff?” he asked.

“Sure; keeps me safer, right?” she asked.

“Can’t argue with that logic,” he said and continued to eat. They ended up splitting the last biscuit and finished up. She immediately set to the dishes while he grabbed the compost basket and put it in the composter he happened to be filling at that point in time. Another couple of weeks and he would have enough to stop filling it and unload the other. The piles were doing okay, but he poked holes in them to get air flow going down to the base to get the reactions done a little quicker. He knew he needed to use the tractor bucket and completely turn over the pile, but had been putting it off for some time. He found if he pushed the pile back and forth about every month, it would help speed up the time needed to decompose. And in decomposing, it would reduce the amount of funds spent on fertilizer in the spring when he planted.

He figured for a quick trip out and about on the property he wouldn’t take the usual long gun, typically a shotgun, since it might frighten Cindy. Since that dealing with the meth heads a few years before, he took to carrying at least one long gun on him along with a pistol. However, while he didn’t plan on taking a long gun, he did plan on taking his full sized pistol along since he felt utterly useless without something that went boom on his hip or in the small of his back. And with going out on the property, something a little larger than the Kel-Tec he kept in his pocket while working. Going to the safe, he pulled out his stainless Springfield 1911 and leather holster and three magazines. He had a double mag pouch ready to go on his belt on top of the safe and put the two magazines inside of it. Charlie cleared the pistol even though he knew it was already empty, but good safety habits were hard to break. Sliding in a magazine to the pistol, he released the slide and chambered a round before engaging the safety. Sliding in the holster meant he had to remove his belt slightly, but he got it on and his pants were once again held up.

He grabbed his standard baseball cap to wear around while walking the property, although as of late he was more and more considering a Stetson hat to go along with the image of a country cowboy. He additionally grabbed a small day pack with several items inside already and knew Cindy didn’t have a pack to wear, not one that was for hiking. So he went to the basement while she was still changing and grabbed a spare pack for her along with an old raincoat that had sat unused in a bin for several years. Another small pouch of items was tossed in and he went back upstairs to find her waiting for him.

“We going to be gone long?” she asked after seeing the pack.

“Nope, just like being prepared, that’s all,” he said.

“Is that why you are carrying a gun?” she asked.

“You have a thing against firearms? Do they scare you” he asked, point blank.

“No, I’ve just never been around guns before. I told you. I guess I’m kind of scared since a long time ago they taught us in school guns were bad,” she said.

“Well, have you been shot yet?” he asked.

“No,” she laughed.

“Then guns aren’t that bad. People like to blame the sword for the hand that wields it. In this case, the gun has now become evil and the person who uses it innocent. How’s that for a messed up society?” he asked.

“People are responsible for their actions though,” she said.

“But do their actions make an inanimate object evil in any way?” he asked.

“No, not really. I mean, if a person is going to be evil, they are going to use a gun or a knife or even a toothbrush to get the job done. What tool they use…you led me right into that didn’t you?” she asked, seeing he was far smarter than she gave him credit for.

“Helps when folks keep an open mind to the idea that people are inherently bad instead of an inanimate object,” said Charlie.

“Well, I know better than most about that. No, I think you can keep your guns and I won’t mind,” she grinned.

“I’m honored,” he laughed. “Ready?”

“I wore the combat boots. Will those be okay?” she asked.

“Yeah, should be fine. I won’t walk you to death since they haven’t been broken in to your feet yet,” he said.

“I’ve never really been hiking before,” she said.

“I should have picked you out a set of hiking boots. If you stick around longer, we’ll take a look at that,” he said.

“Are they better than combat boots?” she asked.

“Yes and no. Combat boots are designed for combat, rough treatment and somewhat comfort. Hiking and backpacking boots are designed to be comfortable for long hikes. Typically they are lighter,” he explained.

“So you got me the heavy boots for what reason?” she asked.

“Because I fully expect them to be destroyed before you leave. But in the mean time, there is no sense in spending a great deal of money of a pair of boots that may or may not be used that much,” he said.

“Planning on getting rid of me soon?” Cindy asked with a grin.

“Only when we get an outcome acceptable to you or you leave on your own accord,” he said.

“Maybe my little vacation here will open up my father’s eyes,” she said.

“I do hope so,” said Charlie. An uncomfortable silence followed the statement and she moved towards the door.

“Ready?” she asked.

“Yeah, let’s get to it,” he said as he shouldered up the small pack and locked up the door. They walked away from the house and he showed and pointed out the various buildings and what purpose they served. She knew a couple already, but the others were somewhat of a mystery to her. They came to the small mountain stream so prevalent in the Appalachian Mountains and followed it along the bed with a semi-worn trail. He explained the stream was more or less one of the boundaries of his property although it extended slightly on the other side as the stream had shifted its path over the years since the original deed had been written up. Crossing over at a shallow point, he showed her the original fence and markers for the property, large stones set into the ground delineating the property boundary.

“Why use a rock?” asked Cindy.

“Because back then, not a lot of folks could afford a nice fence. They used rocks to show the property boundaries since they were readily available. If you look, they form more or less a line,” he said as he pointed down. Several had gone missing over the years, moved to take advantage of the growing space in the edges of the old field, but the majority sat silently weathering away.

“And this goes back how far?” she asked.

“The property is kind of a trapezoidal shape more or less. The back ends come closer than the front side. So…maybe another half mile to the official property line,” he said.

“And it goes to the National Forest?” she asked.

“Yeah, Federal Government came in and took over a lot of land out here,” she said.

“You ever have a problem with people stumbling across your property?” she asked.

“Sometimes in the fall it gets interesting with hunters and all. But for the most part, I ask them politely to move on,” he said.

“And if they don’t?” she asked.

“You’ll find most people don’t argue with a property owner around here. For the most part, they say they are sorry and move on to someplace different,” he said.

“But what happens if they don’t?” she asked.

“Then I call the Sheriff,” he said.

“They ever shoot at you?” she asked.

“No, not at all. Big mistake if they did,” he said, slightly lying since she didn’t need to be worried about that little ruckus from a few years ago.

“Why is that?” she asked.

“Well, shooting at a man on his property out here in East Tennessee tends to get you in a lot of trouble,” he said.

“What kind of trouble?” asked Cindy.

“Besides the legal troubles? Some of the residents of this county would just as soon kill you and bury you out in the forest if you took a shot at them. They would want to avoid the long drawn out process of filing charges and settle things without having to involve the law,” said Charlie.

“Are you one of them?” she asked.

“If I am attacked, I would defend myself,” he said.

“Understandable…what’s that?” she asked, pointing at a somewhat cleared area.

“That’s an old archeological dig site. Some University folks wanted to find the traces of early settlement out here and thought they had a location on one of the original Watauga settlements, but it didn’t pan out,” explained Charlie.

“Watauga?” she asked.

“This part of Tennessee was the first to be settled with folks coming in from North Carolina. Actually this part of Tennessee was part of North Carolina to begin with. Anyway, the original Watauga Association was over near what is now Elizabethton, but had settlers that moved out and staked their own claim. This is kind of in between the Nolichucky and Watauga settlements and they think it might have been like an overnight place to stay when going between the two. But it didn’t pan out,” he said.

“Lot of history around here,” she said.

“Yes, this was the original frontier for the United States,” he said.

“Got a book to read about it?” she asked.

“Actually, yes. You interested in this kind of thing?” he asked.

“I’m interested in about anything I can learn something new about,” she said.

“It’s called ‘Overmountain Men’ written by a local man…thirty, forty years ago I think. Good historical book about the early settlements, the Battle of Kings Mountain and the State of Franklin,” explained Charlie as they walked along.

“State of Franklin?” she asked.

“Kind of a new State that didn’t pan out. I’ll let you read about it,” he said and suddenly stopped. She had no idea why and peered in the direction he was, but didn’t see anything.

“What is it?” she whispered.

Charlie pointed at a large oak tree and she saw the shape of a deer appear. It was quickly followed by another two does and two fawns. They were grazing quietly on the undergrowth near the tree and hadn’t been alerted to the presence of the humans yet. Cindy had never seen a deer in the complete wild before, but had seen them crossing the road from time to time in New York. They seemed to pay the humans no mind, but hadn’t noticed the two yet since they weren’t moving. One looked up and sniffed the air, noticing something was different. The group silently wandered off into the woods and was lost from sight.

“They were really pretty! I’ve never seen them out in the wild before,” said Cindy.

“They can sense it isn’t hunting season yet, that’s why we found them,” said Charlie with a chuckle.

“You hunt out here?” asked Cindy.

“I do from time to time,” said Charlie.

“Why kill something so pretty?” she asked.

“It’s not really killing. It keeps nature in balance,” said Charlie.

“What do you mean in balance?” she asked.

“Hmmm, how to explain? Okay, you have a hundred people living on an island right? They farm and have livestock for food and milk, but only enough for one hundred people. No excess, but enough to keep them healthy and growing. Okay so far?” he asked.

“Okay, hundred people on an island, enough food to survive,” she said.

“Now say another fifty people showed up all the sudden. What happens to the food supply?” he asked.

“Well, everyone has to cut back on the food in order for the others to eat,” said Cindy.

“But will they be as healthy as they were before?” he asked.

“No, probably not,” said Cindy.

“Why is that?” he asked.

“Well, they are taking away from the food they typically eat. And you have to have a balanced diet to remain healthy and grow,” said Cindy.

“So the addition of fifty extra people is a good or bad thing?” asked Charlie.

“Not a good thing. I mean, if some of the residents died, it would get better, more food and everything,” said Cindy.

“But if there were a hundred and fifty people competing for the same food?” asked Charlie.

“Then it would be bad. I mean, you can’t have additional people live there without being able to provide for them,” said Cindy.

“Which is exactly what hunting does. There is only so much food for the deer population around here. Once you get an overpopulation of deer, they start to get malnourished and weaker. Then you get predators coming in, wolves, coyotes and such which also target farm animals. So hunting helps keep the balance of nature by limiting the population of the deer or whatever animal happens to be in season. It keeps the herds around here healthy believe it or not,” said Charlie.

“I never thought about it that way,” said Cindy.

“Again, something of your liberal education. Hunting isn’t a bad thing. Sure there are some that just shoot an animal and leave it to rot. But folks I know believe in ethical hunting. I use what I kill and I mean everything. I don’t believe in killing for pleasure, but rather as helping the local populations thrive,” said Charlie.

[Grand58742]

CHAPTER 8 CONTINUED