The Coalmont Legend

By Robert A. Hunt

In the wild north, secluded from city populations, the small mining town of Coalmont harbors secrets of vile origins. During the early 1900’s, the land is cursed. By retracing the steps of a mysterious traveler a peculiar link to the strange occurrences is revealed. The town’s people vanished with reoccurring tales of demon-like fire-creatures who are behind the disappearances. The new town residents are an edgy lot who won’t dare go out at night for fear of being abducted. Everyone is miserable in their gloomy little cabins. Not only are the people at a loss for sleep, they share the same sense of hopeless isolation along with a peculiar presence of evil.
The steam engine that passes through the town attracts the attention of notorious train robber, Bill Miner, but it isn’t until the discovery of his treasure map when things really take a turn for the worst.
Hidden within the dense forests of Coalmont’s mountains came a record of a Sasquatch clan who lived like a community. The known as the, ‘Big People.’ The forest became darker than it is supposed to be. This book contains the account of what the discontented group of men from Coalmont experienced when they happened upon the little village of the wild folks. When everything comes together the results are utterly explosive!
The truth behind this story has plagued people for generations. Until there is a way to verify this story, it will have to remain a legend.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Robert A. Hunt
• Release date: Feb 23, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301805792

Robert A. Hunt

Robert A. Hunt resides in British Columbia, Canada with his wife and five children. He is the author of the thirteen published titles, including the Genation series, Jasper series and Sasquatch stand alone Legend series and a fun short story. He enjoys writing adventurous tales like science fiction, fantasy and historical fiction They remain unpredictable with new perspectives and clever story twists that distinguish, Robert A. Hunt as an author.

Book preview

Prologue

The Skultch

UNDER THE LIGHT OF THE HARVEST MOON, throughout the cold winter of a small coal mining town, an unexpected mystery began to unfold. This unique fast pace tale includes; unforeseen paranormal activities, the Sasquatch, a map to Bill Miner’s treasure and of course the terrorizing fire demon Skultch.

All is experienced from the perspective of a mysterious stranger who showed up and put all the townsfolks on edge, for the astonishing secret he harbours is unparalleled. This fresh new version of the legend draws the spirit out of the night.

You’re going to want to leave the lights on tonight while you sleep.

As you read and feel the pull of the moon along with the slight odour of sulphur and black smoke you’ll find this to be the perfect paring of a spooky night with friends and family. Be sure to include this book when you go camping or vacationing.

COALMONT, built on a rich pioneering history, was more than a simple or quaint little town; much more. The land, before it was known as Coalmont, belonged to the First Nation’s people, but legend has it, the Sasquatch ruled the area before them. These mountain giants were otherwise known as the ‘big people.’ The endeavour to achieve common ground between man and beast by no means came with a simple solution, but a few unofficial stories through time have reported some incredible attempts on both sides.

Primarily, the big people took to the mountains while human organizations tended to remain close to rivers and low plains. When white men began to enter Indigenous Territory, a new blood feud began. The biggest problem for the aboriginals came with the establishment of the railroad and the beginnings of many small towns. One of which was Coalmont.

A terrible Indian curse was hexed upon the land which opened spiritual opportunities for other powers of darkness to take root. The hardworking families of Coalmont were drained of their hope like a slow drip. Subconsciously, the people surrendered to their own negligence and tolerated the blatant deceptions of darkness.

While the innocent slept, evil stirred in the little town so far away from populated cities. Though the air was ice cold, a creature of flame took to the night and was on the prowl. Air of sulphur and black ash lingered in places of obscurity where the creature lurked. Watching with the sharp yellow glow of its hate-filled eyes, this evil caused apparitions of darkness to flee to distant spiritual realms.

Finding its way into a home through an unlocked window, the Skultch defiantly let out a low muffled growl along with the snapping, kindling sound of its inner unquenchable fire. It was so evil; filled with wickedness and decadence. That rage led it astray from humane reasoning.

Tapping its hoofed feet as it walked along the hardwood flooring, it ambled, hunched forward, to the bedroom where the children slept soundly. Its razor sharp teeth moved in close then it hissed a sinister warning of no return. Looking down upon the child with a laconic expression, the Skultch extended its long bony, smoldering clawed fingers. Reaching for the youngsters, it stole them away, one by one, into the night.

Screams of terror were short. Before anyone could rise from their beds, the Skultch escaped with what it came for. Its corruption was a direct result of its hubris, but it didn’t end that day. Though it started with missing children it soon extended to missing young people and finally a day came when the entire town had been abducted… but to where?

So many went missing, but no one could say where they went despite countless searches.

Rays of moonlight broke through the accumulating clouds. Once so fresh and alive, the town of Coalmont quickly dwindled one night to a ghost town. It was a mystery. Where had the people had been spirited away to? Their belongings had been left behind with traces of soot. Only a sad ambiguity remained, along with several scouting expeditions that turned up with more dead ends than clues. No memories of the missing people could be carried on. There was no one left to tell their stories. It was believed the entire town was taken. People from surrounding towns preferred this because you couldn’t call people dead without their bodies.

In time, only promises from the leaders of the coal mine appealed to brave men and women to repopulate Coalmont with new, fresh life. Homes were practically given to the newcomers along with jobs and good pay. Like a deathtrap, Coalmont was easy to join but difficult to leave. In order to lift the curse and rid the town of the Skultch it would require the combined efforts of the entire town, along with the Symiklo inhabitants and the indomitable Big People.

Chapter 1

A Sunday Mystery

THE PASTOR’S WIFE stomped her feet up the tight windy staircase to the old bell tower of the little Church. The dry hollow sound of old wood related to the creaking of historic construction. She huffed her way through the dust to the inner landing of the bell tower. From here she could look out a small round window. At this height she could see down the main street of the quiet little town. She could hear the chugging sound of the steam engine working its way down the tracks as it slowed to a stop at the small train station. Studying the sight of the new hotel, she was certain she saw the shadow of a face in one of the windows staring back at her.

What distracted her from this was the powerful hiss of the steam engine as it came to a stop and released pressure. Black coal smoke billowed up from the engine stack and rolled over the latest hotel blocking any further view of it.

The year was 1924 and the sound of the train whistle was a welcoming affirmation of life. With the train came fresh supplies and occasionally, new faces.

‘The Lord knows it should be enough to wake up this sleepy little town.’ reasoned the Pastor’s wife, Marilyn petulantly. Taking the fraying old thick rope in her hands, she pulled down against the 2000 lbs. of the old Church bronze bell. Her own safety never crossed her mind under the three foot diameter bell. She was fixed on ringing it promptly at nine a.m., like every other Sunday morning. Such an ear piercing gong never bothered her.

Pastor Tim stood at his main doors where he set blocks to hold the main double doors open wide. The air was fresh and clean. The sun was new and the birds sang praises to the creator of life’s beauty. Nevertheless, Pastor Tim continued to struggle against an uneasiness that plagued the depths of his heart.

If this Sunday reflected the Sundays of the past four months, he would have an empty house of prayer, yet again.

At fifty-six years of experienced age, Pastor Tim stood straight and true calling upon all of his reasoning and strength as a righteous man of God. Dressed in his best dark suit with a bright red tie, he wore a pair of thin brass framed glasses upon his strong chiseled features. The Pastor’s silvery hair of wisdom was still wavy for its short length. Not one strand was out of place.

With one hand, he held the door knob tightly. His other hand hugged his Bible to his chest. With a deep breath of air he closed his eyes. Please Lord, not again. Praying quietly to himself, the Pastor added. Please don’t let my church remain empty for another Sunday.

Drawing in a deep breath he began to close the doors with the final ring of the church bell. With his lungs filled with faith and hope even still, the great doors clicked shut. With a hopeful heart, they were left unlocked. Though the day seemed as predictable as so many before, he remained ever hopeful, strong and true. He knew his duty was appointed by God. He knew what to do, he just lacked the support of Coalmont.

Marilyn’s heart ached for her husband as she cried over the keys of the church organ. The Pastor sang to his empty church with continued loyalty and love for God’s people though they chose not to respect their creator with a little of their time.

Tim was a Pastor. This service to God was inscribed on his bones. The ministry flowed through his veins. The hymn played on and the Pastor sang louder and louder still, in the hopes that even one person in the small mining town of Coalmont might hear him and decide to attend.

Just one, Lord. he prayed so loudly in his thoughts as he sang. Eyes closed tightly, the Pastor could almost feel the tears of his wife falling from her cheeks. She never complained about the situation, rather she stayed strong for her husband. He loved her dearly for that.

Just one. Pastor Tim knew the people of the town were under a lot of stress. The men worked long hard hours in the mine and many of the women of the town were needed there also, even though their place was better served home with their children. They worked so hard that he personally noticed stress lines drawn on every hardened face when they used to attend a service.

God gave Pastor Tim the responsibility of bringing hope and salvation to a hopeless and faithless people. The citizens of the town of Coalmont covet their secrets.

‘How am I to do this all on my own?’ the question crossed the Pastor’s mind as the hymn continued to be sung. The singing felt like falling. He needed rescuing. The glory of God seemed so far away.

The melody of the Pastor’s strong voice cracked. He tried so hard to keep his faith strong for the Lord, but tears began to seep from his tightly closed eyes. As Pastor Tim sung, Amen. he also brought his own silent prayer to a close. Blinking for a moment, the Pastor’s watery eyes blurred his vision of the pews.

To his amazement, he thought he saw a glimpse of a dark figure standing in the front row of the pews. Quickly, he pulled a tissue from his pocket and turned away to wipe his eyes. Smiling, the Pastor turned back and fixed his eyes on a man. He detected no sound from the main doors or a breeze from the outside air, yet someone had entered.

As Marilyn realized her husband was not singing and he was in fact facing someone, she toned the song of worship down to a softer background melody.

Good morning, sir. the Pastor said as he quickly composed himself and stepped down from the stage to approach the man.

The newcomer was in his mid-thirties with sandy blond hair. Though the man’s hair was rather long, he was clean shaven. When he looked at the Pastor, the Pastor couldn’t believe how striking the man’s intense blue eyes were. He was dressed in casual attire, yet his clothes were so clean, they seemed like a step up from casual. Pastor Tim also noticed a thin leather necklace around the man’s neck with a few earth tone beads strung to it.

Welcome to the Coalmont Tabernacle. Pastor Tim held out his hand as a gesture of good will. I don’t recognize you; are you new to Coalmont? He asked with a kindly smile.

The man returned the Pastor’s smile and shook his hand. Indeed, I am new to your town.

As they shook hands the Pastor lightly tapped the man on the shoulder with the cover of his Bible, I’m Pastor Tim. May your stay here with us be blessed.

Their hands released and dropped to their sides. Thank you Pastor, and please forgive me for showing up late.

Oh, well this must be your day because we are in the business of forgiv... The Pastor’s words were cut short as the main doors to the church swung open widely. Pastor Tim knew a miracle when he saw one and this was no exception. One after the other, people began to enter. These people were certainly not new to the town. These were Coalmont’s hardworking folks of toughened expressions. It looked like each one of them woke up on the cranky side of the bed. As they began to peel off their jackets, the Pastor noticed again the coal stained and calloused hands of these men and women.

At the sight of the people, the Pastor began singing. He melody and words fell in line with what his wife was paying on the organ. His happy eyes tried to connect and greet every next face that entered.

The stranger did not drop his intensely locked gaze with the Pastor’s eyes. You can call me Harold. The stranger said before he joined in the song, singing the worship hymn of praise.

Smiling delightfully, Pastor Tim led the chorus which eased the mysterious tension.

Marilyn played the organ louder, keeping pace with her husband’s voice.

Something was obviously disturbing the people, but when Pastor Tim looked at Harold, the new comer’s faced conveyed an up lifting confidence. The charming and somewhat enchanting smile upon the visitor’s face seemed so inspired, he was oblivious to the deep problems of the town.

Pastor Tim could almost feel the tears welling up again as the people continued to enter. This was by far the greatest attendance of people in the church’s history. He smiled and tried to make eye contact with as many individuals as he could.

They crowded in through the main doors; the baker, the sheriff, the young and the old. He even saw the saloon owner and the even the Mayor, though he was doing his best to keep a low profile.

‘Something was happening, but what could it be? Was there a tragedy? An incident at the mine? A disturbance within a house hold? Did someone die? Was it someone young? How young? Nothing hurt a small town more than when a child was lost. Why have I not heard of the news before the service? Would I be ready for the news? Foolish thought! Why should I second guess my ability, the Heavenly Father will provide the words I need when I need them.’ The Pastor knew not to over examine the situation. It would all unfold for him on its own in just a moment. For now he would be thankful for a full church.

While they sang, Pastor Tim returned to the podium. With his back turned to the congregation, he looked up and thanked the Heavens for not only a marvelous turn out, but for the answer to his prayer.

Some glad morning when this life is O’er,

I’ll fly away;

To a home on God’s celestial shore,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

Chorus

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory

I’ll fly away; (in the morning)

When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

2. When the shadows of this life have gone,

I’ll fly away;

Like a bird from prison bars has flown,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away)

Chorus

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory

I’ll fly away; (in the morning)

When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

3. Just a few more weary days and then,

I’ll fly away;

To a land where joy shall never end,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away)

Chorus

I’ll fly away, Oh Glory

I’ll fly away; (in the morning)

When I die, Hallelujah, by and by,

I’ll fly away (I’ll fly away).

The worship song came to a close as the Pastor drew out the final word.

When he turned around, he clapped his hands together and said, Oh, how glorious it is for you all to take part in fellowship here in the house of the Lord, this morning. You may be seated. Everyone quickly settled down in the pews as the Pastor spoke. This place is an empty shell. It is only until all of you are here, at one time, when we have church.

Jake stood up and began to speak with his strong deep voice, I wasn’t even going to come in today until one of you people came hammering at my door, shouting, ‘Wake-up, wake-up! The Pastor has important news at the church!’ I am just here to have a few words with whoever it was who thought that was a good idea!

Yeah, the exact same thing happened to us at our house! A lady called out. Other people agreed and said they too were woken up by someone the very same way.

Did you send someone out to wake us Pastor? a rugged man asked with skeptical annoyance.

N-no, I didn’t. responded the Pastor as he remembered all of his prayers for filling his church. He prayed for assistance from the Lord. The old church was alive with fresh merriment and the peals of laughter and the comradery the town so longingly missed. I-I don’t think I did, but I prayed for it. It may not have been appropriate, but it was an effective idea. Just the same, I sure am pleased to see so many of you folks here this morning. This is the kind of attendance we should have here every Sunday.

A shout came from the back of the church. Well, what is the big important news you have for us anyway? The swaggering tone of the man certainly lacked respect.

Pastor Tim paid it no mind as he engaged in answering the question. "Uh, well I have nothing that should alarm you, I only have the Good News for you here this morning, friends. I really don’t have any other announcements to make. The Pastor glanced down at Harold, who was watching him intently. However, I do have a visitor here with us today whom I would like you all to meet. Pastor Tim opened his hand with a wide wave to present the stranger. This is Harold. Please stand up Harold so everyone can say hello."

Harold stood up gladly, but as he turned around, many of the congregation gasped in surprise and amazement.

"Where did he come from, Pastor?" a voice questioned rudely.

"How long has he been staying with you?" asked another.

Pastor Tim was shocked at how unwelcoming everyone was with this man.

I’ve just met him this morning. H-he came in just before all of you did. Perhaps Harold can answer your questions. The Pastor was truly not sure what was about to transpire.

This stranger is a trouble-maker! shouted Joe-Roy, Don’t trust him! He’s like the Devil in disguise! Joe-Roy looked Harold right in the eyes. "Get out of our town... You are not welcome here!..." he threatened with a sneered.

Joe-Roy! Pastor Tim was irate. All are welcome in the house of the Lord!

With a huff, Joe-Roy left the church. He stomped his feet as he made his way to the front entrance. Slamming the doors behind him, it was clear he would stand no more of the stranger’s presence.

The Pastor felt the entire church grow cold and silent. It was worse than when it was empty. Harold looked like a tire with all of the air drained out of it. Pastor Tim had not yet made his own opinion of Harold and to date hadn’t found him to have any blame at all. Please forgive us, Harold. We do not wish to discourage you. Do you plan on staying in Coalmont for long? asked Pastor Tim caringly.

The whole church remained silent and still. Everyone anxiously awaited Harold’s answer.

Pastor Tim. Harold began. I wish to discuss my purpose for coming to your town privately with you.

What?! a voice from the pews came saturated in frustration.

Oh, come on! This is ridiculous! added another man with the over expression of waving his arms. Such a display of child-like tantrum was very unbecoming of them all.

No one is interesting in why you’re here. We just want you to leave! More harsh words followed.

The Pastor was still baffled by the reaction of the people. He glanced around the room from face to face as he tried to calm everyone down. Looking up for support from above he found the eyes of his wife. She had a look like, ‘Do something.’

Finally, the Pastor had enough. Everyone calm down! He wanted answers and pointed his finger singling out one of the town’s people. Corey, why are you so upset?

Corey a level headed middle aged man, began to speak, Well, Pastor, I was out at Deek’s Lake, hunting. I had a six point white tail deer in my sights when a voice shrieked like this, Whew-Wee! This scared off my trophy. I looked across the lake and directly across from me, I saw this man. He was the one to mess up my shot, and I haven’t been able to get a decent shot since.

Oh Corey, come-on. Pastor Tim said, I have been to Deek’s Lake with Marilyn many times. I’ve been out in the boat and Marilyn was on shore on a clear day. She was shouting to me to bring in the boat, but I could barely hear her. I could hardly even see her from that distance too because the lake is so big. Now, if a man was on the other side of the lake, how could you see him to recognize him, much less hear him shout?

Look, Pastor, I know it was him. Corey fixed his eyes on Harold and glared. Pish posh, applesauce, far be it from me to lie in the house of the Lord. Corey’s gaze seemed to be trying to burn a hole right through Harold.

I had a run in with him also, Spoke the young voice of Thomas, a seven year old boy. As everyone walked through town waving and smiling to one another, I saw him. Everyone was walking through the snow, but this man walked through without catching the eye of anyone else. Not one snowflake fell on him and the snowfall was thick. I’ve never seen someone walk between snowflakes before. He stopped for a brief moment and people walked around him as though he was invisible. He turned and looked at me and smiled. As he walked away, he left no footprints in the snow. He disappeared into the activity of people and I never saw him since... Until now.

We have a very different experience. came the voice of Mrs. Baxter. She lived with her four grand-daughters.

Pastor Tim focused his gaze on the elderly lady, Mrs. Baxter, I need to understand what’s going on here. Please, could you explain who this man is to you?

A sweet smile cracked across her wrinkly features, Yes pastor, just this morning, after he knocked on our door to wake us up, we found his footprints throughout our yard. We went out to follow the footprints to find where he was going but the directions made no sense. According to the footprints in the snow, he wondered around in loops and circles, like he was dizzy.

Or drunk… Came an unexpected voice from the back of the church.

A few giggles followed before Mrs. Baxter continued. We found they even went right up the side of our house and over the roof. We found the same thing on the neighboring houses. Nothing was stolen as far as we can tell, but the whole thing was very peculiar.

Did you see him do this? asked the Pastor skeptically.

Well, no but... a look of being taken unaware and somewhat confused, came over Mrs. Baxter.

Did you look out your window to be sure it was him who woke you this morning?

No, but it was him. Just ask him. Mrs. Baxter tried to regain her composure and respect with a nod.

Well? Pastor Tim asked as he turned to Harold. Would you like to respond with something for the people of Coalmont?

I will not dispute or deny what people have said here today. It was I who woke you this morning, but if I am to stand trial for making or not making footprints in the snow, I would ask to see the law where footprints become the basis for prosecution.

How about evidence of trespassing?! A large burly man shouted.

Be clear, kind sir. What crime have I committed besides waking you for church to hear the good news of the Lord or sparing the life of an innocent creature?

You’re a smooth talker stranger, but mark my words, it’s only a matter of time before you mess up, and I’m going to be there when you do! spoke a short, thin, grouchy, bushy bearded miner.

Granted. Harold said with a pleasant nod of his head, he sat back down in the pew.

Though the morning’s service message was awkward for Pastor Tim to present, due to the thick animosity in the room, he was able to deliver a complete sermon; and he did it for the largest congregation he had seen in the entire time he spent living in the town. He figured everyone remained in his church because they wanted to keep a close eye on Harold, otherwise, he was sure, most would have walked out.

* * *

Pastor Tim, his wife Marilyn and Harold spent the rest of the day together. They strolled down the sidewalk of the small town of Coalmont and window shopped as they talked. The smell of the town’s bakery called to their appetite’s desire for something fresh. The tantalizing smell lured them in by their noses.

The front door opened with a jingle and a squeaky creak. Harold and Marilyn went to the display case and made yummy remarks of the pastries. They had icing covered doughnuts, pies, freshly baked bread and buns, along with a small variety of cakes and cookies.

Pastor Tim approached the front desk and a baker from the back came out to meet him. Oh, Pastor Tim. How nice to see you again. he greeted the Pastor pleasantly.

I’m sure there is not a soul in the world who could pass by your bakery without being lured in by the sweet aroma. The pastor complimented.

Well, that’s a very kind thing to say, especially from a Pastor. The baker replied positively. I’d like to return your kindness and offer you and your lovely wife to pick a treat on me today?

"Oh, well that is a very generous offer. It aroused his interest. One I don’t think we can pass up." Pastor Tim turned to call for Marilyn’s attention just as both she and Harold arose and turned around.

At first glance, the baker seemed confused. A stone cold frown hardened over the delightful features that he wore just a moment ago. Is this your friend, Pastor? The baker asked with a condescending frown.

Why, yes he is. the Pastor answered rather puzzled.

Harold could see the tension in the room right away. Greetings to you, sir. And might I add what a marvelous bakery you have here.

Um, well, thank you stranger… the baker grumbled.

We have been offered to choose a treat free of charge today. Pastor Tim announced.

Harold looked at the baker as the baker’s glare turned into more of a scowl. The baker’s bushy eye brows came so close together they became one continuous brow.

It was obvious to Harold the baker wanted to take back his generous offer, but Harold said, Oh, your offer is non-sense! Everything smells so good in here, I would certainly not leave without paying full price, plus a tip for your gracious service.

They chose a doughnut each and Harold paid the baker twice as much as he was charged. Leaving the bakery, everyone was in a very delightful mood.

This is a very charming little town. Harold said, before a couple, a man and a woman, looked at Pastor Tim and Marilyn and smiled warmly. Once they locked their eyes on Harold, they glared at him, repulsed, as though he were the devil himself.

This alarmed Pastor Tim and Marilyn. After the couple passed by a fare distance Harold observed. "The people here sure seem... mean, for lack of a better word."

Please, forgive them. Pastor Tim responded compassionately. "The people here have been through more than you know and they fear things are only going to get worse. Everyone is wound so tight with worry and stress. They are very sensitive to change, but you must look deeper. They are truly good people."

I have seen such strength in these folks, you would be surprised. When we need to pull together, we won’t let each other down. Marilyn added.

Harold did not miss a beat. He quickly responded to her. I will be patient, and perhaps I will be accepted here as a Coalmont resident also, very soon. Pastor Tim was relieved to find Harold was not as mysterious as the rest of the town alleged him to be. To the Pastor and his wife, Harold was just misunderstood.

As they continued walking through the town they found themselves at the end of the road where a coachman was guiding his horse drawn carriage over the last stretch of a long Suspension Bridge.

Pastor Tim wasn’t sure if the horse looked more scared than Harold, but as they laughed about it, Harold realized he really didn’t have a choice in the matter. He was expected to go out onto the wooden swinging bridge. As the story went, long ago a great earthquake tore a vast crevasse through at the edge of town, half a mile wide, cutting off both the road and the train tracks. Eventually, a long suspension bridge was constructed to join the road and a neighboring train bridge was made.

Pastor Tim and Marilyn, led Harold across the Coalmont Suspension Bridge where they stopped half way to look down into the gorge, one full mile deep. A thin river snaked its way at the bottom but it was not easy to see for everything within the gorge was very dark. Harold watched uneasily as a long steam engine, carrying cargo box cars, crossed the rickety bridge blowing its horn.

As another couple of carriages made their way across the one lane suspension bridge it precariously bounced and swayed.

Not interested in crossing it, Harold looked across the expanse to the road on the other side that led into the darkness of the thick forest. The judgemental mountains loomed beyond the trees and looked down on him. Harold felt a shutter run through him. Something was watching him. He could feel it. Something waited for him but his time had not yet come. Feeling his body heating up, Harold began to sweat and shake under the anxiety. Looking over the side of the swinging bridge to the river far below, he felt even more lite-headed. Signaling the others of his distress, they away from the gorge and headed back to Coalmont.

Chapter 2

The Coming Storm

THAT EVENING, Harold would never forget the care provided by these gracious small town folks. He was even invited over for dinner at Pastor Tim and Marilyn’s home.

Outside, the wind blew ferociously. Marilyn prepared roast beef and potatoes with a large side bowl of steamed peas glistening in melted butter. The entire spread on the table had a golden glow to it as everything reflected the dim light of the Kerosene lanterns. The fireplace also added a sense of homeliness to the experience of the rustic meal.

Pastor Tim stood up at the head of the table. Closing his eyes, he opened his hands at his sides then he prayed for the meal. Marilyn and Harold folded their hands at the table and bowed their heads, Dearest Lord of our lives. Pastor Tim began, We thank you for the nourishments you provide for us both in body and spirit. The wild rolling winds outside pushed up against the window of their dining room. And for all of your many blessings in times of need, you are faithful and true to standby us and see us through all of our tribulations. Bless our food and drink, O Lord. In this we pray, Amen. The howling wind outside pushed up against the home and the flickering soft light of the kerosene lanterns blew out.

Marilyn and Harold repeated in unison, Amen. No one realized they were in darkness until they opened their eyes after the prayer. At first they were surprised by the darkness and for a brief moment they each suspected blindness but this suspicion was quickly countered by a snap of the living room fireplace. The fire was barely going but the red coals gave a little light.

As Pastor Tim sat down, Marilyn stood up and bent forward as she struck a wooden match against the striker strip on the side of a small cardboard match box. The match flared up as she quickly touched its lit end to the top of two candles on the table.

The soft glow of the candle light delivered just enough light. This is quite cozy. Harold told them before a wind pushed up against the side of the old house again. The walls creaked and a slight shiver riveted through the floorboards under their feet.

Ooo, I felt a cold chill run through me. Marilyn announced with her arms wrapped tightly around herself.

They looked up at the ceiling at one time in response to the sound of the wind’s strength. Pastor Tim lowered his eyes to Harold and his wife. Yes, you’re right. In agreement with his wife, Harold added calmly, I’m chilly too. After dinner I’ll go downstairs and start a fire in the wood stove.

I’ll join you, Pastor. Harold suggested helpfully.

Ignoring the turbulent air outside, Pastor Tim reassured everyone, Well, there’s no need to worry, we have everything we need right here; Good food, strong walls and good company. Now let’s eat.

The whistling wind stirred up cracking sounds which could be heard outside as the timber of the barn swayed with the creaking of the old homestead’s construction. Harold and Pastor Tim exchanged glances for a moment. Their eyes said it all. While they stood still to listen to the orchestra of the storm, Marilyn was busy loading up her plate with food. The men tried to shake off their worried expressions for Marilyn’s sake and began to pass around the platters of food.

We must have faith, right Pastor? Harold suggested innocently.

Briefly pausing, Pastor Tim sprung one eyebrow into a high arch. Then everyone shared in a good laugh about the situation.

When their plates were full of roast beef and potatoes, Marilyn began to pour gravy over everyone’s plate.

Is there no end to your delicious gravy? Harold asked with excitement and hunger.

Just be sure you get your fill, young man. Marilyn countered.

They all indulged themselves in the appetizing dinner. Savoring every bite, no one said a word right away.

Finally, Pastor Tim asked, Have you stayed in one place long enough to make a profession for yourself?

Tim... Marilyn gave her husband an incredulous look, warning him not to offend their guest.

No, it’s all right. Harold replied with a kind smile, "I do