Uncle Bob's Farm

By Steve Ayersman

Hank Sharp lived a simple life in West Virginia. Until one day in January of 2018. That is when a lawyer contacted Hank and told him his rich uncle died and left him a ranch and cattle business in the West Virginia mountains. There was only one stipulation. Hank had to live at the ranch. This was a big step up from the way Hank lives now, so it

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ayersman Publishing
• Release date: Mar 2, 2024
• ISBN: 9798988922117

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Hank Sharp was a country boy born in 1968 in the small town of Montgomery, West Virginia. His parents took him home to a small, neat house up a holler by a creek. He lived there for the next twenty years growing up. Some of his fondest childhood memories were playing in that creek. Most of the kids in the neighborhood also learned to hunt and fish at an early age. Hank was no exception. He and his father built a bond by hunting and fishing together that lasted a lifetime.

The Appalachian Mountains run through the entire state of West Virginia. Here is where you will find some of West Virginia’s more rural areas. People from the cities often drive to the mountains for sightseeing and camping. They also traveled there to hunt and fish. West Virginia is most beautiful in the fall when the leaves change color. These areas are in the northeastern part of the state.

The Monongahela National Forest in West Virginia is part of the Appalachian Mountains. It is home to mountain lakes, trout streams, and several ski resorts.  

Life in the mountains has a different vibe from the main cities. It feels like time has stood still there for decades. Several old stores have remained open from as far back as the sixties to give the area a real-old-time feel. These mountains also have the harshest winters in the state due to their elevations.

Hank loved this beautiful area he and his family would visit on the weekends. He could still remember riding in the back seat of the family station wagon with his brother Tyler. They would watch as the leaves flew by as they drove further into the scenic mountains. Hank and his father made this trip many times together to hunt and fish.  

As a youngster, Hank stuck to his father like glue. He was always close by to help gather firewood, get fishing gear, or catch bait. Hank felt he needed to pull his weight and do his part. He did not know he was already accepted. His father also never seemed to have a shortage of errands or tasks to keep his son busy. Hank admired his father and wanted to be like him.

Hank and his dad had been on many wild fishing adventures by the time he was eight years old. These included all-day fishing trips, getting caught in terrible storms, and night fishing. Hank was carrying the front end of a twelve-foot V-shaped boat at twelve. He could still remember his father yelling at him,

Pick it up, don’t drag it. You are going to tear a hole in it.

I am trying, Dad, Hank would reply, trying not to touch the boat on the ground as they staggered down the rocky path. It may have appeared his father was tough on him, but he never saw it that way. He felt privileged to learn outdoor skills from his father. His dad was happy to have a strong son to help him and go on adventures but was impatient for him to grow.

Twelve is also the age Hank learned to drive. His father would let him drive the Dodge three-speed on the column home from fishing. A two-mile dirt road led to the mouth of the creek where they fished. This is where the creek ran into the Kanawha River. Hank’s dad let him drive them home every day. He can still remember the day his father said,

Take it on across the highway, and the rest of the way home.

Hank was now driving on the main road at twelve years old. Those were some of the best memories of his life, and he wished he could go back.

All their outdoor trips were about to change forever. Hank had only been on fishing trips with his father, but he also hunted. When Hank got old enough, or old enough in his father’s eyes, his dad began to take him hunting and teach him about the woods. Hank had already been practicing his hunting skills with his Red Ryder BB gun. He begged to go hunting every hunting season with his father. Finally, one year his parents decided to let his father take him squirrel hunting. His mother thought he was too young, but his dad talked her into it.

Although Hank and his dad shared looks, the same name, and a love of the outdoors, there were differences. Hank enjoyed hunting more than fishing, but his father was the opposite. Hank and his father fished almost every evening during his teenage years. Hank loved the mountains and the woods. He had played in them since he was young, building cabins and forts and looking for the elusive Bigfoot. Yes, Bigfoot.

Here is when the story gets strange. Hank’s dad went to the mountains on an annual deer hunting trip every year. He hunted with some of their neighbors from around town. Hank could still remember the year he found out that one of the neighbors had been taking his son. This made him angry, and he felt left out. Although the neighbor’s son was seventeen and Hank was only fourteen, he still wanted to go hunting with his dad. Finally, after a year of begging, Hank’s dad talked his mom into letting him take him the following year. Although Hank was young, he was already burning the targets with his new Marlin 30/30 lever action. It looked like the ones cowboys used and resembled his old Red Ryder BB gun.

Hank’s first deer hunting and camping trip with his father was one they would never forget, and not for a good reason. The first week of buck gun season in West Virginia starts on the Monday of Thanksgiving week. They were camping at the Monongahela National Forest. They would arrive on the Saturday before the season started and set up camp. They would camp the entire week and leave the following Saturday. That was unless one of them killed a deer or they got tired.

Although snow was forecast for Monday night, their main concern was the temperature. It would drop into the teens at night after the front moved through on Monday. Hank and his father were camping in a tent, but this was no average tent. Hank’s dad had cut a hole in the back of the tent and rigged it for a vent pipe. A propane stove sat inside the tent and vented out the back through the vent pipe. Hank’s father thought the tent would be warm enough, although he had never tested it in harsh conditions. He thought this would be the perfect time to take Hank on his first deer hunting trip and try it out. While packing for the trip, Hank felt like he had finally grown up.

The trip went well for the first few days, although Hank and his father did not see many deer. Five inches of snow covered the ground Tuesday morning when they woke up. And as predicted, the temperature plummeted. Hank and his dad continued hunting but decided to return home Friday, a day early. They were both affected by hunting in the wintry weather and missed home. Although, the conditions inside the tent were most comfortable.

Thanksgiving Day would be the last day Hank and his father would hunt. It would also be their last chance to kill a buck. Hunting conditions would be difficult because the temperature had dropped so low. Thursday morning was 61 degrees inside the tent but only 8 degrees outside. Hank and his father tried to hunt the best they could that cold Thanksgiving morning. They struggled and came back to camp around one.

Being cold, tired, and frustrated, they decided to stop hunting for the day. Hank’s mother canned homemade turkey and dressing so Hank and his dad could have it on Thanksgiving. They even had a pumpkin pie. They decided to eat earlier than usual as both looked forward to the Thanksgiving feast. At three, they began preparing dinner. Little did they know this would be their scariest and worst Thanksgiving meal ever.

CHAPTER 2

Hank and his father retrieved the large green Igloo cooler from the back of the truck and carried it to the tent. That is where they stored their food for protection from bears. They were camping at the upper gate of the Cranberry Glades, an area known for bears. The trash cans in the parking area had metal automatic locking lids to keep them out.

Hank and his father pitched the tent seventy-five yards from the parking area at the upper gate. They found a rustic campsite on the edge of the forest. It only had a picnic table, fire ring, and silver hook protruding from one of the trees for hanging a lantern.  

A small trail led over the hill and past the laurel trees down to a small stream for retrieving water. Hank oversaw getting water. It was easy for the first few days but became more difficult as the stream began to freeze. A small area a foot wide in the middle of the stream had running water. There was two or three feet of ice on each side. It was hard to get the water without sliding into the stream. Hank used rocks to break the ice near the bank to retrieve water. Although the stream was not deep, the air and water temperature made it dangerous to get wet.

Hank was helping his father while he prepared their Thanksgiving dinner. His dad told him they needed more water and handed him the bucket. Hank left the tent and headed down the path leading to the stream. As he exited the tent, a weird feeling came over him. This was an unfamiliar feeling. He felt the hairs on his neck stand on end as a quick chill shivered him. He scanned the hillside and surrounding woods as he walked down the path to the stream. Something made him feel uneasy. He felt like something was watching him, so he began to move faster. His eyes darted in all directions as he walked to the stream wishing he had brought his gun.

Hank made it to the stream and squatted beside it with his bucket. It was now five and dusk dark. Visibility was low as he investigated the dark forest around him. Something felt off. Then a loud crashing sound came from the camp.

His father yelled, Hank, come quick!  

Hank spun around, jumped up, and ran up the hill toward the tent. When he saw the tent, he was in shock. The inside of the tent was a big orange glowing ball, while one side of the tent lay smashed on the ground. Hank’s father yelled for him again.

Hank, where are you?

Hank knew something in the tent was on fire and hoped it was not his dad. He turned and ran back to the stream to get more water. As he approached the tent, his father yelled lookout.

His dad kicked the tent flap back and threw the Coleman cooking stove down the hill. The stove was still on fire as it rolled end over end down the snowy bank. By this time, the roof of the tent had burst into flames. Hank threw the water on the fire as his father held the door flap. Hank ran into the tent and threw the water on the fire. After this, he ran back to the stream for another bucket.

When Hank returned to the camp, his father had used a blanket to beat the fire out. He was walking around the campsite with his deer rifle, looking up at the hillside and into the woods. Finally, his father walked over to talk to him. Hank was standing by the fire pit, trying to calm his nerves.

What happened, Dad?

Hank’s father looked at him and pointed to a large rock on the ground by the tent.

That’s what happened, he replied.

Something threw that rock and hit the tent. It also hit the edge of the cooking table and caused the stove to catch fire.

You scared me, Dad. I thought you were on fire. I ran to get water to put you out.

Thanks, son, his father replied, putting his hand on his shoulder.

I wanted to throw the stove out, but I was afraid I would throw it on you. I was hollering for you because I did not know where you were.

Hank’s father reached over and put his arm around his son.

I was getting ready to save you, Hank said with a smile as they started to laugh.

A weird sound reverberated the hillside above camp. It was a blood-curdling sound that froze them. It was something between a loud growl and an animal scream. Hank or his father had never heard anything like it before. The sound sent shivers down their spines. Hank saw the fear in his father’s eyes, which scared him.

What are we going to do, Dad?

It’s too late to pack up this evening, so we will stay and leave in the morning. He took his knife off his side and cut the porch flap off the front of the tent.

Come on.

Hank followed his father to the back of the tent. They raised the part of the tent that lay on the ground and adjusted the posts. Hank’s dad threw the porch flap over the large hole burned in the roof. They put large sticks on the tent roof to hold the cloth down before going inside for the evening.

They heard growls and noises from the hillside above the camp the rest of the night. Hank’s dad worried that whatever it was might throw another rock at the tent and hurt one of them. He could not figure out what threw the rock or was making the strange noises but tried to keep his son calm. Hank knew something was off when his dad told him to sleep in his clothes and loaded two guns before they laid down. His father never kept loaded guns in the tent, but this night was different.

As morning came, Hank and his dad were ready to leave at first light. Neither one of them slept much that night. After packing their supplies into the truck, Hank and his dad went to the campsite and took the tent down. They dragged it into the parking area and left it in a big pile beside the trash cans.

Driving out of the camping area that day, Hank’s dad said to him,

Son, I don’t think we should tell people what happened.

How come?

I am not sure what to make of it, so I say we keep it quiet.

Hank sat in his dad’s truck, looking through the windshield.

Do you think it was Bigfoot, Dad?

I would have said no before this trip, but now I don’t know.

Hank and his dad were quiet on the way home and never talked about their experience again. His father passed away six years later from a heart attack. Now Hank was the only person who knew the story. He still thought about that frigid Thanksgiving Day in the West Virginia mountains. What was in the woods that terrorized them that night?

CHAPTER 3

Hank never told anyone about what happened to him and his father on that camping trip. Hank believed it was Bigfoot, but why wouldn’t he? He was raised on Bigfoot. The Bigfoot phenomenon grew in the seventies thanks to tv shows and movies.

Two men in northern California filmed the first and most famous Bigfoot footage in 1967. This did not make movie theaters in West Virginia until 1975. The first movie was The Legend of Bigfoot. It came out in 1975 when Hank was seven years old. Hank’s dad took him and his friend from next door to see it. This movie led to many trips into the woods looking for clues or proof of the existence of the hairy creature.

The following year in 1976, another Bigfoot movie hit the big screen. This movie was Sasquatch, The Legend of Bigfoot. This movie also added to the popularity and intrigue. In the seventies, the only way to hear about something like Bigfoot was at the movies or on tv. Because this was before the internet and cell phones.

In 1977 when Hank was nine, Bigfoot was to appear on his favorite tv show. Steve Austin, or the six-million-dollar man as he was better known, would battle Bigfoot. Hank could not wait for the episode to air. Although seeing Steve Austin battle Bigfoot was great, it left fans disappointed. They made Bigfoot out to be a robot that Steve Austin befriended. Not what Hank or any other show fans expected. Everyone knows Bigfoot is not a robot or friendly.

As Hank got older, he lost interest in Bigfoot but never stopped believing. He stayed in West Virginia and went to college there.

After college, Hank married a girl from school and bought a house. The marriage was tumultuous but managed to last over ten years. During that time, they had a daughter named Lindsey, the apple of Hank’s eye.

Hank’s marriage fell apart, and his wife took Lindsey and moved out. He now only saw her on certain holidays and selected weekends throughout the year. It did not help that his wife moved to another state, making it harder for him to see Lindsey. He stayed in touch the best he could, but it strained their relationship through the years. Since the divorce, Hank dated several women but could not find the right one. He had spent the second half of his life single and looking for a better woman than the one he picked the first time.

There was a bar near Hank’s house called the Cantina, which he frequented quite often. For some reason, he thought he would find the girl of his dreams there one night. Hank met a girl named Melissa, and they began to talk. Melissa was several years younger, and he made the mistake of taking her to the Cantina. Now she went there every day with or without him. Melissa was a little on the crazy side, which Hank liked. She reminded him of his ex in that way.

Melissa sometimes stayed at Hank’s house to keep from driving home from the bar. Although Hank had been looking for a new girl and new life, he knew Melissa was not the one. He liked the similarities, but she was too much like his ex-wife. Hank had slowed down drinking after his divorce. He had not stopped all together but tried not to drink daily.

Hank and Melissa had begun to fight a lot over her drinking. Melissa was at the bar almost every day before Hank got off work. By the time he got home, she was usually already drunk. But it was hard for Hank to get mad at her. He tried that with his ex, and it did not work. The bar is where he found her and where he would leave her. As the days went by, Hank became more frustrated. He wondered how he got back into the same situation he was in before, which caused him so much pain.

Then one day in January 2018, Hank received a letter from the lawyer’s office of Hightower and Shultz. The address on the envelope for the lawyer’s office was Charleston, West Virginia. Hank worried as he opened the letter wondering if he was in trouble. The letter was from Edward Hightower requesting a meeting with him. The letter said his distant Uncle Bob had left him something in his will.

Hank remembered Uncle Bob from his childhood. He was really his great uncle and pop paw’s brother. But they called him Uncle Bob. Hank remembered watching his uncle hit golf balls in a field near his house. Uncle Bob was the first-person Hank ever knew that played golf. He used to tell stories about when he was a caddie at a golf course near there that was no longer around. Hank helped him retrieve balls, and his uncle let him hit some at the end of practice. Hank could not hit the ball very well, but he was young. Uncle Bob even gave him a golf book with all the yardages and distances to hit your clubs, which Hank still had today. He remembered his uncle being very friendly to him until he moved away when he was around seven or eight. He never saw his Uncle Bob again.

Hank called the number in the letter and asked for Mr. Hightower. His secretary answered the phone and told Hank he needed to come in for an appointment. Hank asked her what for, and she explained that his uncle had left him something in his will.  He will get the full details at the meeting. Hank made an appointment for two days later at the lawyer’s office and hung up the phone.

About that time, Melissa burst through the door. Hank could tell she was high and had been at the bar. She saw Hank holding his phone in one hand and the letter in the other.

What’s that?

All, nothing.

He did not want to get into this with her now. Hank hid the letter and changed the subject. Melissa’s buzz caused her to soon forget about the letter.

CHAPTER 4

Two days later, Hank arrived in Charleston at nine-thirty. His meeting with Edward Hightower was at ten. Hank parked in an old church parking lot he had parked in for years. The lot was only three blocks from the lawyer’s office. Hightower and Shultz occupied an entire brick building beside Jimmy John’s.

Pulling onto the overgrown church parking lot, it was almost empty. Ivy had taken over. It also covered the metal pay box at the back of the lot. It seemed whoever collected money for parking had stopped long ago. The lot now was the same as free parking.  Hank picked up his glasses and phone and got ready to get out.

But before he could open the door, a raven flew down and landed right in the center of his hood. It stood facing Hank like it was looking into his soul. He and the bird sat having a moment. The bird tilted his head and looked the other way so he could see Hank better with his other eye. Hank stared into the blackness of the raven’s eye. Then in an instant, he was gone. Hank blinked as the bird flew over the windshield. What the hell was that about, he thought. Hank got out, but not before checking the sky and ivy for birds.

The coast looked clear, so he headed out towards Capital Street. As he walked down the empty street, he thought about how busy it used to be. Once on Capitol Street, he turned left and walked toward the river. He saw the large Hightower and Shultz sign on the front of a red brick building as he rounded the corner. He walked up to the large glass doors and entered.

Hello, can I help you? the receptionist asked.

Yes, I have an appointment with Mr. Hightower at ten. My name is Hank Sharp.

Hello, Mr. Sharp, let me see if he is ready for you.

She told him Mr. Hightower was ready and sent him in. Hank opened one of the big wooden doors and entered the office.

Hello Mr. Sharp, come in and have a seat.

Mr. Hightower was sitting at his desk. He had some papers in front of him and a computer screen to his right. He reached out and shook Hank’s hand without standing, which Hank thought was rude. He also had one of those handshakes that felt like a dead fish in your hand. Cold, limp, and damp. Hank released his clammy hand and sat down. He did not have a good impression of Mr. Hightower so far.

I want to tell you something, Mr. Sharp.

Hank, please.

Very well, Hank, your Uncle Bob has left you a fortune.

He went on to tell Hank what his uncle left him in his will. Hank was to receive a ranch and cattle business in the mountains of West Virginia. Mr. Hightower told him there were some stipulations in the will. Hank would have to live in the home and watch over the cattle business. Hank said he did not know anything about cattle, but Mr. Hightower told him not to worry. The cattle business was in capable hands.

Hank, I have been your uncle’s lawyer for twenty-five years. I work with an accountant named Adam Wright. Adam and I will control your uncle’s finances as instructed in his will. Your uncle had three large properties in his portfolio. The Celestial Ranch in West Virginia. Along with the Skyview Ranch in Colorado and the Stardust Ranch in California. Each of these properties is worth over ten million.

Hank about fell out of his chair.

He left you the Celestial Ranch and property in West Virginia.

What is going to happen to the other properties? Hank asked.

Your uncle instructed us to run the ranches as usual until ownership presents itself.

What does that mean?

Run as usual and see what happens. Hank, I have scheduled for you to tour the ranch tomorrow. You can meet the staff and see the property before you move in. One of our men will meet you and show you around. Go to the cattle business office and ask for Francisco. He is the cattle business and property manager and will be the person to show you around.  Come back on Monday and I will give you the keys, passwords, and other valuable information. You can move in on Monday if you like.

Hank’s heart raced and he felt his face getting flushed. He could not believe an uncle he had not seen in years would leave him anything. Hank looked at the lawyer and tried to speak.

I guess that will be fine, he finally got out.

I know this is a lot to take in, but you are a lucky man. Your uncle left you a great opportunity, and we all hope you make it work.

Hank tried to be positive, but the lawyer’s negative tone and body language made him uneasy. Hank took a deep breath and looked out the large window behind Mr. Hightower. A raven flew up and landed on a lamppost outside the window and appeared to be looking at Hank. Oh great, he thought as he looked back at the lawyer.

Well, Hank, it was nice to meet you, and congratulations.

Hank stood up