Caught In The River, Ronald Lee [paper ebook reader .txt] 📗
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- Author: Ronald Lee
Book online «Caught In The River, Ronald Lee [paper ebook reader .txt] 📗». Author Ronald Lee
He stated.
“Not hell, just another dimension.” Charles answered. “I’m not sure it’s one way either. I’ve found that you can do pretty much anything you set your mind too if you’re willing to keep at it.”
“I think you’re ten minutes are up Mister Blackfoot,” Robert said standing up.
“I guess you’re right,” Charles said sadly. “Before I go I want you to look at this.” He held up a green stone with a whole in it.
“That’s pretty,” Robert, quipped. “You don’t have to worry about the money.”
“This stone is a looking stone. The river carved it Mister Robert. Legend says that if you hold it in front of you at the river’s edge on a full moon and call out the thing you want to see most of all in the world it will show it to you.”
“That’s nice,” Robert said. “I don’t plan on being at a river any time soon.”
He tried to hand it to the Indian who had made his way to the bottom step.
“Keep it,” Charles said. “It will show you where your son is.” He walked to his truck and opened the door. “By the way,” he called out. “There’s a full moon tomorrow night.”
Robert watched the Ford drive away and rolled the Looking Stone over in hand. He did not know what type of rock it was. It was about five inches long, green and smooth with an oval shaped hole in it. He started to throw the stone as far as he could then decided against it. It could be a nice reminder of the good times he had with his son. He looked down the road in the direction Charles Blackfoot had gone then went in and shut the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Even as the weeks passed for Jack’s family in the river mere moments transpired
“Don’t be afraid,” The tall black man said to Jack. He stood at the opening to a large cavern lit by more torches. Behind him, Cappy ran to an Indian woman who hugged her and started cleaning out her hair and rubbing cream on her wounds. Jack turned his attention back to the man who stood before him offering his hand.
“My name is Brian Freeman,” he said. “This is our home.”
Jack stepped into the cave and looked at the dim surroundings. It was simple enough. A fire burned in the center of the cave. Jack saw the walls and floor lined with bear, deer, and raccoon skins.
“My name is Jack,” Jack replied shaking his hand. “Jack Woodle.”
“Welcome Jack,” Brian said.
Jack looked at himself for the first time since his ordeal began. His swim had washed off the blood, mud, and swamp that had clung to him through his flight. New blood seeped from the freshly cleaned wounds on his arms, chest, back and legs. His swimming trunks had large holes in them created from the near missed shots of the Redcoats, thorns, and low hanging branches. His muscles ached from the torturous run, swim, and dehydration.
“I don’t fill so well,” Jack said. He started to fall and Brian caught him.
“Come here and sit down,” Brian offered. He led Jack to a long limestone rock covered with bearskin and let him lie down.
The Native American woman came to him and started tending to his wounds. She held a simple clay bowl with a mixture of some type of Alovira plant and herbs. When she applied them to Jack’s cuts he winced, expecting it to burn, but found it surprisingly soothing. Soho wore the same simple one-piece outfit like Cappy. Her hair was long and black. Her dark eyes seemed full of wisdom but friendly. After covering the wounds on the front of his body she said,
“You need to lie on your stomach.” Jack turned over and she applied the cream to the wounds on his back.
“Give me those,” Soho said pointing to Jack’s swim trunks. He folded the bear rug over himself and complied. She held them up for inspection chuckling at the holes. Mister Freeman went and selected a deerskin from a pile in the corner of the cave and handed them to Soho. While she seamed their new guest his new breeches, Brian talked with Jack.
“Do you understand where you are?” He asked.
“Not really,” Jack admitted.
“It’s kind of hard to explain.” Brian started. “Have you ever heard of a worm hole?”
“That’s off of Star Trek right?” Jack asked.
“Isaac Newton actually came up with the theory.” Brian answered, “I believe the river is a gateway between our reality and this place. It looks like earth, sounds like earth, it even has the same type of plants and animals but it is different.”
“Could it be another time?” Jack offered.
“No,” Brian said. “I thought about that, but it can’t be because someone would have seen signs of our existence. This place is as if someone made a clone of pre America South Carolina and put it in another part of the universe. It would be great if it weren’t for the Redcoats out there.”
“Redcoats,” Jack asked. “You mean the British?”
“Yep,” Brian answered as he sat beside Jack. “I don’t know how, but those guys chasing you and Cappy are British soldiers from the Revolutionary war.”
“Here you go,” Cappy said happily. She had disappeared around a corner in the cave earlier but now stood offering Jack a bowl of soup. The hungry youth took it thankfully and quickly ate the hot meal.
Cappy sat beside Jack as Brian continued to talk about what had happened.
“Somehow the River, allows us to age at a much slower rate. We still grow. There are many ways to be hurt or even killed. However, a natural, time oriented death does not exist. That’s why the Redcoats are still around.”
“How do you like deer soup?” Cappy asked as Jack finished the bowl.
“It’s great.” He said wiping his mouth. Jack had often eat venison he and his father had hunted. The youth yawned unexpectedly. The medicine made by Soho had soothed his wounds, the soup had warmed his insides, and the bear skinned rug warmed his skin. They were close enough to the fire that Jack had almost forgotten about his chilly experience in the swamp.
“How do I get back home?” Jack asked Brian after staring into the fire.
Brian sat beside Jack and spoke softly. “I don’t know if you can.”
Jack looked at Brian, then Cappy, and Soho who worked quietly on his pants. The shadows danced quietly on the cave walls to their own music oblivious to the disheartening statement.
“We’re not alone here Jack.” Brian continued. “The River takes people without partiality. Folks are all over this land that have been here a lot longer than us, who are a lot smarter but just as trapped. They have learned to adapt, and overcome. Many, like me, have started family units.”
Soho turned from her sowing and held up the finished deer pants. “You like,” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Jack added. Soho smiled brightly and brought the pants to Jack. “You’ll be like the deer now. You won’t be hurt by the thorn bushes.” Jack slipped the pants on under the bearskin and stood up. He tied the pants close with a leather strap that Soho had provided.
“I’ll fix you a shirt next,” Soho promised and went to the pile of skins. The Indian woman selected what she needed and went to work.
“Most of us live in peace with one another.” Brian stated. “We trade for what we need and share information on the Redcoats.”
“Why haven’t you tried to get along with them?” Jack asked as he took a cup of tea from Cappy. He grimaced slightly as he tasted the pine needle concoction. “Thank you,” He said and sat the wooden cup down.
“You’ll get use to it,” Cappy promised.
“They torture and kill anyone that they catch,” Brian said standing up. “They still think the Revolutionary war is going on. I personally think the whole lot of them is insane.” He explained. “They came here chasing Francis Marion through the swamp. He led them into the swamp where they fell into quicksand. Somehow this place was created and the pits and river became gateways that opened between our world and this one to bring people here. Even after all these centuries, they are still full of hatred. The only thing that has changed is their patrols are increasing. They are finding more of our settlements and killing the inhabitants. At least everyone we’ve found is dead.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“The children are being taken,” Brian said.
“Why is it always the children?” Jack moaned and sipped his drink.
“We’re pretty much safe here,” Brian said in an attempt to offer hope. “The only other entrance to our cave is up through a hollowed out tree. Later on, I’ll show you around.”
Jack grinned weakly as he sat back down and sipped his drink in an attempt to cover what he was really thinking. He wondered if this was what the rest of his life was going to be, and he wondered what his family was doing now. Little did he know months had passed since he disappeared and his family had fallen apart even as unseen forces worked to bring them to Jack’s side of the River.
Mary stood at the bank of the river crying. It was a cool spring evening. Her boyfriend Kyle had just sped off after she fought off his advances. However, that was not why she was crying. She was weeping because of how bad things had become in her home in the months after her brother’s disappearance.
Her father had started drinking and lost his job. Her mother had moved them to her grandma’s house. Mary could still remember lying in bed hearing their arguments over what had happened to Jack and how it was all Robert’s fault. Her mother could not stop mourning for her son. To Mary, her mother acted as though neither her husband nor daughter mattered any more.
“Fran, we all loved Jack.” Her father pleaded with his wife the night before she left. “You’ve got to move on.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about Robert! You’re the one who’s started drinking! You’re the one who just sits in the recliner in a stupor day after day staring at that rock the Indian gave you! I can’t pay these bills by myself. I can’t control Mary anymore. She’s smoking, going out all night, and I don’t like that Kyle boy she’s been dating! You’re the one who has to move
“Not hell, just another dimension.” Charles answered. “I’m not sure it’s one way either. I’ve found that you can do pretty much anything you set your mind too if you’re willing to keep at it.”
“I think you’re ten minutes are up Mister Blackfoot,” Robert said standing up.
“I guess you’re right,” Charles said sadly. “Before I go I want you to look at this.” He held up a green stone with a whole in it.
“That’s pretty,” Robert, quipped. “You don’t have to worry about the money.”
“This stone is a looking stone. The river carved it Mister Robert. Legend says that if you hold it in front of you at the river’s edge on a full moon and call out the thing you want to see most of all in the world it will show it to you.”
“That’s nice,” Robert said. “I don’t plan on being at a river any time soon.”
He tried to hand it to the Indian who had made his way to the bottom step.
“Keep it,” Charles said. “It will show you where your son is.” He walked to his truck and opened the door. “By the way,” he called out. “There’s a full moon tomorrow night.”
Robert watched the Ford drive away and rolled the Looking Stone over in hand. He did not know what type of rock it was. It was about five inches long, green and smooth with an oval shaped hole in it. He started to throw the stone as far as he could then decided against it. It could be a nice reminder of the good times he had with his son. He looked down the road in the direction Charles Blackfoot had gone then went in and shut the door.
CHAPTER FOUR
Even as the weeks passed for Jack’s family in the river mere moments transpired
“Don’t be afraid,” The tall black man said to Jack. He stood at the opening to a large cavern lit by more torches. Behind him, Cappy ran to an Indian woman who hugged her and started cleaning out her hair and rubbing cream on her wounds. Jack turned his attention back to the man who stood before him offering his hand.
“My name is Brian Freeman,” he said. “This is our home.”
Jack stepped into the cave and looked at the dim surroundings. It was simple enough. A fire burned in the center of the cave. Jack saw the walls and floor lined with bear, deer, and raccoon skins.
“My name is Jack,” Jack replied shaking his hand. “Jack Woodle.”
“Welcome Jack,” Brian said.
Jack looked at himself for the first time since his ordeal began. His swim had washed off the blood, mud, and swamp that had clung to him through his flight. New blood seeped from the freshly cleaned wounds on his arms, chest, back and legs. His swimming trunks had large holes in them created from the near missed shots of the Redcoats, thorns, and low hanging branches. His muscles ached from the torturous run, swim, and dehydration.
“I don’t fill so well,” Jack said. He started to fall and Brian caught him.
“Come here and sit down,” Brian offered. He led Jack to a long limestone rock covered with bearskin and let him lie down.
The Native American woman came to him and started tending to his wounds. She held a simple clay bowl with a mixture of some type of Alovira plant and herbs. When she applied them to Jack’s cuts he winced, expecting it to burn, but found it surprisingly soothing. Soho wore the same simple one-piece outfit like Cappy. Her hair was long and black. Her dark eyes seemed full of wisdom but friendly. After covering the wounds on the front of his body she said,
“You need to lie on your stomach.” Jack turned over and she applied the cream to the wounds on his back.
“Give me those,” Soho said pointing to Jack’s swim trunks. He folded the bear rug over himself and complied. She held them up for inspection chuckling at the holes. Mister Freeman went and selected a deerskin from a pile in the corner of the cave and handed them to Soho. While she seamed their new guest his new breeches, Brian talked with Jack.
“Do you understand where you are?” He asked.
“Not really,” Jack admitted.
“It’s kind of hard to explain.” Brian started. “Have you ever heard of a worm hole?”
“That’s off of Star Trek right?” Jack asked.
“Isaac Newton actually came up with the theory.” Brian answered, “I believe the river is a gateway between our reality and this place. It looks like earth, sounds like earth, it even has the same type of plants and animals but it is different.”
“Could it be another time?” Jack offered.
“No,” Brian said. “I thought about that, but it can’t be because someone would have seen signs of our existence. This place is as if someone made a clone of pre America South Carolina and put it in another part of the universe. It would be great if it weren’t for the Redcoats out there.”
“Redcoats,” Jack asked. “You mean the British?”
“Yep,” Brian answered as he sat beside Jack. “I don’t know how, but those guys chasing you and Cappy are British soldiers from the Revolutionary war.”
“Here you go,” Cappy said happily. She had disappeared around a corner in the cave earlier but now stood offering Jack a bowl of soup. The hungry youth took it thankfully and quickly ate the hot meal.
Cappy sat beside Jack as Brian continued to talk about what had happened.
“Somehow the River, allows us to age at a much slower rate. We still grow. There are many ways to be hurt or even killed. However, a natural, time oriented death does not exist. That’s why the Redcoats are still around.”
“How do you like deer soup?” Cappy asked as Jack finished the bowl.
“It’s great.” He said wiping his mouth. Jack had often eat venison he and his father had hunted. The youth yawned unexpectedly. The medicine made by Soho had soothed his wounds, the soup had warmed his insides, and the bear skinned rug warmed his skin. They were close enough to the fire that Jack had almost forgotten about his chilly experience in the swamp.
“How do I get back home?” Jack asked Brian after staring into the fire.
Brian sat beside Jack and spoke softly. “I don’t know if you can.”
Jack looked at Brian, then Cappy, and Soho who worked quietly on his pants. The shadows danced quietly on the cave walls to their own music oblivious to the disheartening statement.
“We’re not alone here Jack.” Brian continued. “The River takes people without partiality. Folks are all over this land that have been here a lot longer than us, who are a lot smarter but just as trapped. They have learned to adapt, and overcome. Many, like me, have started family units.”
Soho turned from her sowing and held up the finished deer pants. “You like,” she asked.
“Yes, thank you.” Jack added. Soho smiled brightly and brought the pants to Jack. “You’ll be like the deer now. You won’t be hurt by the thorn bushes.” Jack slipped the pants on under the bearskin and stood up. He tied the pants close with a leather strap that Soho had provided.
“I’ll fix you a shirt next,” Soho promised and went to the pile of skins. The Indian woman selected what she needed and went to work.
“Most of us live in peace with one another.” Brian stated. “We trade for what we need and share information on the Redcoats.”
“Why haven’t you tried to get along with them?” Jack asked as he took a cup of tea from Cappy. He grimaced slightly as he tasted the pine needle concoction. “Thank you,” He said and sat the wooden cup down.
“You’ll get use to it,” Cappy promised.
“They torture and kill anyone that they catch,” Brian said standing up. “They still think the Revolutionary war is going on. I personally think the whole lot of them is insane.” He explained. “They came here chasing Francis Marion through the swamp. He led them into the swamp where they fell into quicksand. Somehow this place was created and the pits and river became gateways that opened between our world and this one to bring people here. Even after all these centuries, they are still full of hatred. The only thing that has changed is their patrols are increasing. They are finding more of our settlements and killing the inhabitants. At least everyone we’ve found is dead.”
“What do you mean?” Jack asked.
“The children are being taken,” Brian said.
“Why is it always the children?” Jack moaned and sipped his drink.
“We’re pretty much safe here,” Brian said in an attempt to offer hope. “The only other entrance to our cave is up through a hollowed out tree. Later on, I’ll show you around.”
Jack grinned weakly as he sat back down and sipped his drink in an attempt to cover what he was really thinking. He wondered if this was what the rest of his life was going to be, and he wondered what his family was doing now. Little did he know months had passed since he disappeared and his family had fallen apart even as unseen forces worked to bring them to Jack’s side of the River.
Mary stood at the bank of the river crying. It was a cool spring evening. Her boyfriend Kyle had just sped off after she fought off his advances. However, that was not why she was crying. She was weeping because of how bad things had become in her home in the months after her brother’s disappearance.
Her father had started drinking and lost his job. Her mother had moved them to her grandma’s house. Mary could still remember lying in bed hearing their arguments over what had happened to Jack and how it was all Robert’s fault. Her mother could not stop mourning for her son. To Mary, her mother acted as though neither her husband nor daughter mattered any more.
“Fran, we all loved Jack.” Her father pleaded with his wife the night before she left. “You’ve got to move on.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about Robert! You’re the one who’s started drinking! You’re the one who just sits in the recliner in a stupor day after day staring at that rock the Indian gave you! I can’t pay these bills by myself. I can’t control Mary anymore. She’s smoking, going out all night, and I don’t like that Kyle boy she’s been dating! You’re the one who has to move
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