Fiction:The Woman in the Holler

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 26 Mar 18 - 02:05 PM

A tall, dark-blonde young man with deeply blue eyes under startling black lashes turned slowly, his eyes surveying the rather desolate acres of the popular ATV park from the mound of rubble on which he stood. The green forested hills and mountain rills that once were here were gone. Even so, here and there hardy cedar and sumac saplings poked up, and tenacious weeds were establishing footholds. Up in the sun where the rubble was fine and dirt-like, mullein was just starting to send up what would become tall flower stalks, and coltsfoot covered a steep clay bank. Both well established but originally invasive plants from Europe. The same could be said for his ancestors. Over to the left, a mountaintop spring had managed to seep its way to the surface once again. A person with imagination, which he had, could see they were witnessing the rebirth of a mountain stream - at least if nothing else happened unnatural to the land over the next 50-100 years.

The old family graveyard had apparently been bulldozed and/or blasted to smithereens several years ago - assuming, of course, he was in or near the right spot. No way to be sure, given the gaps in the family oral history. He did know he was at least in the vicinity, having definitely located the foundations of the old house much further down the holler where the fill from the mountaintop mine had not reached except to diminish the flow of the creek and kill off most of the creek-dwelling fauna.

The fading leaves of daffodils, a few old apple trees and a blooming, old lilac shrub had helped him know where to look to find the stone outline of the old place. From there he had climbed, at first able to follow the remnants of the old creek before it disappeared under the thousands, maybe millions of tons of tailings from the played out surface mine at what had once been the top of the ridge behind the house.

Late the previous afternoon, near the top of the now truncated ridge, he had marked his location with his GPS, then turned back and retraced his steps while he still had daylight to do so. He wasn't a nostalgic person, but did have a sense of family obligation, plus liked a bit of an outdoor challenge. He had spent the night in a bivy sack near the lilac bush and had been surprised and pleased to have the company of an old tomcat that had appeared out of nowhere. Now, at midday on the rented ATV, he figured he was as near as he was likely to be able to figure to get to where his mom's people were buried. He reached into a side pocket of the backpack he had strapped onto the back of the 4 wheeler and pulled out the mason jar of ashes, dumped them without much ceremony onto the scree, watching as some of the ashes were carried away by the light wind, and as the rest sifted down among the rocks and boulders.

He had 2 days before he needed to be back in North Carolina for work, and since he had spent his scarce money to rent the ATV and had never had the experience before, decided to enjoy the rest of his time. Machines really weren't his thing, but always up for trying something new. One last look at the wisps of ashes still carried on the breeze, one more glance at the ground, a quick text to his girlfriend and his aunt, and off he for a thrill ride. He'd done his duty. May as well have some fun.

Very low, under the sound of the ATV engine, he caught what may have been the sound of a flute.

The End.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 24 Nov 10 - 01:44 AM

Sharon looked at him, eyebrows raised, and said, "No explanation needed. No way Jose. No explanation needed or offered here either."

They grinned at each other in understanding, then shifted to face the early afternoon sun, shoulders leaning comfortably together in support. Louie's face showed a little disappointment but no trace of pout or wounded ego.

At least, that is how Sharon chose to read him.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 13 Aug 10 - 09:36 PM

Down along the roadside in the holler there were still lots of white and lavender asters, and even a few bidens blooming in the ditches. Up here on top of the cleared ridge, there had already been a couple of hard frosts. All the fall flowers in and immediately around the graveyard had been frost killed. The ridge was girded by the forest, however, and along that edge blue wood asters, some late goldenrod, and even a bit of ironweed still bloomed. Billy brush-hogged the graveyard itself 3 or four times a year, and the hardy grass was green as a lush pasture in the cooler temperatures of fall. Up against the gravestones, protected from early frost by the sun-warmed granite, chickweed formed pillowly mounds at the base of the markers.

They made a quick homage at Cassie and Kathy's markers, then parked themselves in the center of the cemetery enjoy their lunch. They sat there in the fall sun, not avoiding anything, just being. The surrounding hills were awash in color. The annual swan song of the forested hills. To be sure, all those trees were second, even third growth.

"Does that matter?" Sharon wondered outloud. "Had they never been clear-cut at all, a substantial population would still have been at least 2nd growth. Nothing lives forever, after-all. Before the hills and trees were towering mountains, so steep and sharp and severe that only bare faced rock and alpine plants were there. Before that were swamps and seas. Before that, who knows? After the seas, and at intervals throughout the long ages when towering new mountains were shoved up, only to slowly wash down creeks and rivers to seas, glaciers descended, moved,knocked down ancient virgin forests, carved out highland glades. Gaia."

"Do tell," said Billy. "Like you say, it doesn't matter. What is now, is now. That's good enough for me. If I got to explain where I am comin' from with what I say next, yer answer ought to be no. If I don't have to explain where I am coming from, your answer ought to be yes.

"I'm thinkin' we are supposed to get nekkid and let nature take it's course. I don't think it is about lust or breakin' my marriage vows. I don't even know that gettin' nekkid will result in any activity most folks, especially my wife Hazel who I love dearly, would disapprove of. I don't know what I am sayin' or thinkin', Sharon. I'm just sayin' what is comin' to me to say.




Or does it?

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 24 Jun 10 - 12:15 AM

Strained by lack of breath, anyways, as they made the final, steep scramble to the top of ridge.

As she hauled herself up the last hundred yards of the steep ravine, Sharon allowed her senses to fully open to the rugged, ancient hill, a formidable mountain at one time, eons before the western mountains had been shoved up to form the Rockies. She thought about this low ridge, a hard steep climb going straight up as they had chosen to do, but probably not even close to 1500 feet above sea level. Not technically part of the mountains, but on the Appalachian plateau.   For now.    She pondered how many billions of tons of rock and soil and leaf mold, trillions or more tons, really, from this ancient place had washed down the watersheds of the New/Kanawha, the Ohio, the Mississippi, to the Gulf.    How low had this land been when it had been sea? Deep sea. Deep enough for trilobites.   How high had this land been when the pressures beneath the crust had belched and farted the sea floor up toward the sky? How deep would one have to dig into the sea floor, or the Mississippi delta, to touch the leavings of this ancient, ancient mountain, now only a rugged hill among rugged hills.

Too old, too ancient for any person to comprehend. Must have scared the hell out of the fey folk who somehow, and most likely unintentionally, encountered and found themselves channeling some of that magic.   



The grave yard stood about 200 feet ahead of them, at the very top of the low ridge.

Sharon wrapped an arm around Louie's shoulder. " Let's just be right now. The mess can wait."

Abiram had been waiting for them under the lilac. He sat up and began preening, pretending that Third was not there at all.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 23 Jun 10 - 11:01 PM

"If I could a took off the whole day I'd 'a brought a couple picks and feed sacks so we could dig a little cohosh and wild yam," said Louie. "Another few days and the tops will be too gone to find 'em. I did get a little goldenseal and ginseng earlier, but there ain't much of either left. I been orderin' roots and plantin' em' when I dig the last few years, but don't know as it is helpin'. I can't get up here enough to keep the Elmores and and the Adkins from crossin' over the ridge to poach.   Some feller lives at Frog Pond, Tennessee sells the roots and the seeds both. Frog Pond. That name tickles me. See over there where the slope is not so steep? On the other side of the deadfall? Look, see that big tree trunk all covered with moss? Anyway, that shelf there used to be covered with goldenseal."

"Is there anything left of the still?"

Louie shook his head. "No." There was a long pause before he continued, "I don't think I am gonna get out of this one, Sharon... But we'll pow-wow about that later, you and Hazel, Big Bill, Homer - did I tell you I switched and hired Homer for my defense attorney? and Billy - like it or not, Sharon, the farm could be at stake. You all ain't the Hatfields and McCoys . You was the one stupid enough to undo what Cassie and Cathy wanted by deeding over your half to Billy. Big Bill seen his mistake a long time ago, but can't speak against Billy. Hell, they both know they done wrong. You did to, Sharon, by caving into your hurt pride like they did. Cathy expected better of you.

"Course, Cathy should a told everybody what was coming and the whys. She was a might cowardly about that in my view. Don't get me wrong, I understand. If I was in your shoes I maybe would have done the same.

"I take that back. I would not have done the same. Seems like I am the only one of the lot that understands what keeping this little patch of mountain holler and hill means. To get rid of his shame, Billy wants to allow exploration for coal. He sees the money bein' made just across Coal Mountain by the Wheelers who sold their mineral rights, and in in his drunken brain thinks erasing this place will erase his shame. I'm all that stands in the way."

Sharon stared at him, shock and anger clear in her expression.

He stared right back for a long moment, then looked away. "But then, I was the one stupid enough to get busted. I don't know what we can do, Sharon. But we gotta try to do something."

Sharon said nothing, but gestured up the hill. The rest of the climb was made in strained silence.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 23 Jun 10 - 10:48 AM


In the darkness, no light. no warmth.

Forcing the boundaries. pain, burning;

HUNGER!

another attempt; like acid it burns

it divides it's efforts. one portion circles the minute seed of power just beginning to grow within the steel hard walls of parental love and layer after layer of other protections. not a crack.

the other probes again and again at larger boundaries. recoils from the wounds, salves the burns in the deep earth, far below the extent of the warding powers.

Again. the hunger burns almost as badly as the attempts on the wards.

the parts join once more. hatred. hunger. fear.....
NO!
no fear!
NO fear. HUNGER!

a tendril follows minute cracks in the rock, flows through pores as do the gases of the earth, flows and follows the paths.

Here.

a pipe pierces the wards. and

there....

not a breach, but a weakness.

and there, the same pipe, going through the wooden walls.

A mold spore, black like the darkness. black as ptich, black as evil.

Focus. Encourage the mold into growth.

[NO! growth burns!! WRECK! EAT! HUNGER! ]

Destruction in growth. slow. subtle. the one who cast the wards is young. it will not suspect the subtlety.

The mold adds another cell, pulling nutrients from the wood, weakening wood and ward by minute increments.

they will not suspect.

darkness.

hunger....

anticipation.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 23 Jun 10 - 09:50 AM

And in that other direction he could only sense, not travel, Abiriam perceived the welcoming warmth pervading the land within his wards. It was strongest at several points; the cabin, the cemetary, and at the crest of the ridge ahead. A warmth with a distinct feeling of ownership, with overtones of quasi-maternity and the occasional foray into what seemed to be distinctly feline notes. Abiram had never encountered anything quite like it; and made a mental note to consult those with more experience.

The closest he had felt to what filled the land about him was what he had felt the day Coyote had taken him to an old Pueble to meet Kocopelli

And - as if summoned by that thought; a faint hint of flute music wafted from the ridge ahead.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 23 Jun 10 - 09:15 AM

Abiram padded softly up the hillside, winding his way around trees and bushes; luxuriating in the moist green scents. Coyote wouldn't believe the scents; if he were here.

Maybe he could link with the elder spirit and allow it the use of his nose? No; he remembered now, Coyote had told several tales of when the desert around Tulsa had been green and fertile; no need to show him something he knew about. Though the temptation to link with the faint sense of being in the west; to allow his mentor to check the wards Abiram had renewed last night was great. Or perhaps he should link with the much stronger and nearer presence; introduce himself to Isis; or rather re-introduce himself...he had some recollection of her guiding him during his kittenhood.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Gweltas
Date: 23 Jun 10 - 12:13 AM

Only found this today and read the whole way through and really enjoyed it. Thanks Janie and MMario. However, I am hoping that there will be further instalments really soon............hint hint !! This needs to become a book !!
Very Best Wishes,
Anne XX

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Leadfingers
Date: 22 Jun 10 - 04:28 PM

And there I as thinking we had further instalments !

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 22 Jun 10 - 09:52 AM

How did I miss this im march?

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 13 Mar 10 - 02:27 AM

"Any visitors last night?" Louie inquired while he watched her finish packing a couple of sandwiches into the small backpack

"Nope. Good thing, too. I was plumb worn out."

Louie nodded, but his brow furrowed. "Well, I'm glad you got the rest you needed. Mebbe they were just respecting that.   I just--never mind - forgot what I was going to say."

Sharon glanced up from lacing her boots, eyebrows raised in question, but Louie only shook his head and shrugged.

"Ready," she said, shrugging into the pack.

Louie pulled the back door closed, and they headed out. Third ran out ahead of them as they followed the creek, the way getting more narrow and steep as they climbed. The creek itself petered out as they scrambled higher up the steep, narrow defile. In spring, the rocks they sometimes scrambled over, and sometimes were able to use like stair-steps, would be transformed into small waterfalls. In late September, there was no running or pooling water this high up, but still enough dampness to keep the moss and lichens growing on the rocks green. Third was right with them now. Abiram had followed them as they set out on their hike, but soon headed up the east slope. Sharon figured he would meet them sometime time after they reached the top of the ridge.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 07 Mar 10 - 09:33 PM

Playing with Louie and Hank to night, Sharon realized that she had probably lost a bit of the touch and feel of a true old-time Appalachian fiddler. Her fiddling technique had moved more toward Texas swing and Zydeco over the years. She was briefly tempted to pull out the fiddle, then thought better of it. She really was too pooped to pop. Before heading for bed she called for Abiram, in case he wanted in. He appeared when she stepped out onto the porch, and wove himself around her ankles a few times, but when she bent to pick him up, he wriggled free and moved away to the far corner, tail twitching in irritation.

"Your call," she said, and stepped back into the house, closing the door behind her. She settled in under the comforter in the downstairs bedroom, murmuring "Nite ladies," as she switched off the lamp.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 07 Mar 10 - 08:33 PM

Sharon didn't see any sign of the cows as she drove through the gate. The moon was half full and casting a fair amount of light, and she didn't need the flashlight to make sure the gate was securely closed behind her. Abiram had jumped out of the car after she drove through the gate, and trotted along in front of the car and to the side as she bounced through the ruts in the track through the pasture. He waited patiently while she got out of the car at the second gate, drove through, stopped, and got out a second time to close the gate. Then he ran ahead to the dark front porch of the old farmhouse.

Sharon didn't linger. She went straight into the house, sitting her guitar down beside the sofa in the living room. Abiram distained to enter. He had work to do outside. "It's going to be chilly tonight, and I don't intend to get back up once I'm in bed. If you're coming in, come in now." Abiram looked up at her, meowed, then turned and disappeared down the porch steps.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 07 Mar 10 - 08:22 PM

After supper that night, Louie brought out his bass, and he, Sharon and Hank spent a low-key hour in the kitchen playing tunes until Hazel spoke up to say the kids needed to get to bed - they had school tomorrow. Hank had been playing guitar for a few years, and had recently taken up the fiddle. Sharon thought she might have the makings to be a fine old-time fiddler if she kept working at it, and told her so.

Sharon stood to put her guitar back in its case. "I'm gonna head on up the road myself, if you all don't mind. I'm pretty worn out from my trip."

"You gotta flashlight?" hazel asked, as she and Louie walked her to the door.

"In the glovebox. come on Abiram." The cat stood and stretched, then headed for Sharon's car.

"I oughter be able to get out of the shop by 'bout lunchtime tomorrow. Weather's s'posed to be good. If you want, I was thinkin' we could take a little hike around the farm.   Oh, and be sure you close the gate at the main road. don't MR. Hensley's cows gettin' out."

"I won't. And sounds good, Louie. Nite. Nite Hazel"

Hazel, backlit in the doorway to the house, raised her arm in acknowledgement.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 07 Mar 10 - 12:21 AM

YES!!! Thanks!!!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Effsee
Date: 06 Mar 10 - 11:26 PM

Aaaah! Thank you Janie!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 06 Mar 10 - 11:10 PM

Hazel headed off for church right after breakfast. Sharon and Louie sat out on the front porch while the kids cleaned up the kitchen. Abiram had staked out a sunny spot on the porch rail where he could relax and still keep an eye on things. He studiously ignored all overtures from Third, (i.e. Ugly Pup the Third).

"When Hazel gets back, we'll head back up to the farm and help you get unloaded and settled in.   I hope you don't mind - it's a bit crowded here with all the kids and only one bathroom, and besides, if figger you'll want a little space for yourself. Thought we'd take a Sunday drive after that, let you get a look at all the old stompin' grounds. Hazel has already stocked a few provisions up there, but take a look and see if there is anything else you'll be wanting. We can make a stop at the IGA on our way back home after the drive. We plan on you taking supper with us. If you're up for it, thought we could play some music tonight. I don't get a chance to do that as much as I like anymore."

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 06 Mar 10 - 09:53 PM

"Hug or handshake?" she asked with a smile. Hank stepped forward, grinning, and offered a quick embrace.

"Now," Hazel said to Sharon, "Get yourself a cup of coffee from the stove, then you and Hank can set the table. We'll eat as soon as the potatoes are brown and the biscuits are out. Show her where the plates are, Hank."

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 15 Aug 09 - 04:21 PM

Hazel turned from the kitchen sink as they walked in, dried her hands quickly on a dish towel, and walked toward Sharon with her arms outstretched to embrace her in a warm hug, even as she she scolded, "Well then, Louie kept telling me not to break your plate, you'd come one of these days, but I had about give up on listening.   Hank? Don't be shy, come on over and give your Aunt Sharon a hug."

Although she didn't show it, Sharon was momentarily startled. Aunt? Well, yeah.   She guessed she was. She turned to Hank, who had been hanging back, a bit shyly, at the corner of the table. "Hank? Oh Hank, I feel like I have known you so long, and now I get to actually lay eyes on you! " She wasn't sure whether to offer a hug or a handshake.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 14 Aug 09 - 09:04 PM

The sound of Louie's truck coming through the gate from the pasture woke her. She sat up in her sleeping bag, yawning, and squinting at the eastern sky. The sun was just fully over the horizon.

Louie pulled to a stop, climbed out of the truck and approached the porch, stopping at the bottom of the steps. "I was sitting out on the stoop in the dark when you drove in last night. Figgered you'd a stopped if you wanted. Come on down to the house. Hazel's got sausage fryin' and a pot of coffee waiting."

"Not even a hug for this wayward child?" asked Sharon, snaking her way out of the sleeping bag, then standing upright.

Even before she spoke, Louie was headed up the steps to the porch. They grabbed each other in a bear hug, laughing and spinning.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 26 Jul 09 - 11:52 PM

Louie wasn't expecting her until late tomorrow morning. She drove past the darkened house where he lived with Hazel and the girls, and drove on up the rutted dirt road to the old farmhouse at the head of the holler, grateful that it was dry. It was obvious the road hadn't been graded in a long time, and she never would have made it in her Corolla is it had been the least bit wet. As it was, she could hear the bottom of the car scrape the center ridge of the road more than once, and sent up a little prayer on behalf of her muffler.

The gate to the pasture was open, and she cautiously drove through, onto the track through the pasture to the yard. The pasture was completely overgrown and it was clear there was no cow pasturing there. The gate to the house was also standing open, but Sharon felt compelled to stop short of driving into the yard. She turned off the ignition and got out of the car, gazing at the old, weathered farmhouse in the bright light of the moon. Abiram jumped down from the open car door as she stood, and twined around her ankles.

She had no legal right to be here, and found herself regretting for the first time her decision to sign over her interest to Billy in the midst of her hurt, grief, and feelings of betrayal. Still, she knew she belonged here, and knew she had the right to be where she was standing just now, under a late July moon.

Abiram bit her ankle, softly enough to leave no mark, but certainly enough to get her attention. She dug her sleeping bag out of the trunk, walked through the gate, past the lilac, green now with the blooms long gone, and made herself a pallet on the front porch between Callies and Cathy's rocking chairs. She crawled into the sleeping bag and listened for a few minutes to the chorus of cicadas, hoping - half expecting - to hear the sound of a flute wafting from the ridge behind the house.

Within minutes she was sound asleep. Abiram had curled up at the back of her knees. As soon as he heard her faint snores, he rose and jumped down lightly off the porch.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Tinker
Date: 26 Jul 09 - 11:40 PM

(Gleefully waiting for more....)

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 26 Jul 09 - 11:34 PM

Yes!! She's They're back!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 26 Jul 09 - 11:08 PM

Almost there.

This late, traffic was light light as she drove through Charleston on I-64/I-77. She kept turning her head to gaze at the illuminated Capitol Dome covered in gold leaf as she sped along. It was commonly supposed that the Rockerfeller's were the "anonymous" donors who made that possible, but it continued to be a well-kept secret and had never been confirmed. She was tempted to exit at the Capitol-complex and pay a late night visit to the War Memorial designed by her friend JB. Abiram let her know, however, that now was the time for heading home, and that he would brook no late-night interlude this close to Grizzly Holler.

She exited the freeway onto Rte. 61 at Cheylan.   The silver moonlight on the river rivaled the gold glow of the Capitol Dome 10 miles behind her. Occasionally she could see barges being pushed along the river by sturdy tugboats, those headed downstream laden with coal, and those pushing upstream empty. An image arose in her mind of Callie, covered in coal-dust, emerging from behind a mound of coal to face the startled eyes of Abraham.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 07 Sep 08 - 01:49 AM

The dream was different this time.

In this dream, she actually saw them, naked and moaning, on the couch. Caught in the act. Jeanie's fiddle lying carelessly on the floor where either one of them might step on it if they jumped up, realizing they had been discovered. They didn't see her, didn't notice she was there.

She watched the light play on the back of Michael's head as he moved. He had beautiful hair. Wavy, shoulder-length, the color of clover honey. How many times had she looked up through the veil of that lovey hair as he moved over her in the exact same way.

Not nearly so romantic from this angle. Kind of silly-looking, actually.

In the dream, she waited for the rage and the anquish to hit.

In the dream, she was only mildly surprised to realize that what she was feeling was relief.

The dream abruptly shifted, as dreams do.   She was no longer standing in the studio of the house there in Tulsa that she and Michael had shared. She was in a small bedroom on the second floor of an old farmhouse, the moon shining through the open window, and she could hear the faint sounds of flute wafting through the window from somewhere high up on the mountain behind the house. A warm, furry presence curled up next to her, under her outthrown arm. The arm encircled Abiram as she turned on her side and settled back into dreamlessness.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 07 Sep 08 - 12:17 AM

Ah, good, they are back!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 07 Sep 08 - 12:04 AM

Cool. Cool as a cucumber. Got to be cool as a cucumber.

Compartmentalize. Function.

Be Here Now. Sort of. Be here now, checking these invoices, making and taking these calls, ordering those pipes, cajoling a promise of payment, threatening to cut off that line of credit.

Oops. The door to the Michael compartment just cracked open. Close it for now. Got work to do. Thankfully, Big Bill and Billy stayed safely locked away, not interfering with her work or concentration at all. No surprise there. The three of them had been studiously practicing that one for years. The wound was healed, a big scar sealing where the raw scab had once been. Probably wouldn't have scarred so bad if she had only stopped picking at it sooner. Seems like she would have learned from that to leave those kinds of scabs alone.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 06 Sep 08 - 11:41 PM

She called Louie the next morning, after checking with her boss. "OK. I'm coming. I can take 2 weeks, anytime between now and the middle of October, but I have to be back here by November 1.   And I guess I have to decide if I'm going to drive or fly. What works for you all? Do you have a court date yet?"

"Naw, and anyway, Homer is going to keep asking for postponements until at least after the 1st of the year," Louie replied. "But you come on as soon as you can. You and Hazel need to get reaquainted - you two never did know each other very well - and you can finally meet the kids face-to-face. Be prepared, it will be a let down when they discover you are not a fairy Godmother with little wings, a magic wand and one of them little silv'ry crowns on your head. Leastways, I don't think it likely you've grown wings, have you?"

Sharon laughed. "Horns, maybe, but no wings."

"I still have to talk to Michael and Tim. We have a couple of gigs coming up, nothing major, but we'll need to figure out who might be able to fill in for me." We've got a practice tomorrow night so I'll talk to them then." She felt her stomach tighten a little.   "I'll give you a call on Friday and we'll firm things up then."

"Sounds good. Oh, and Sharon?"

"Yes?"

"Both Big Bill and Billy said to tell you how glad they were to hear you might be coming."

"Cool," said Sharon, cooly.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 02 Sep 08 - 11:40 AM

aw heck....I was hoping for at least ONE post over the weekend

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 27 Aug 08 - 11:15 AM

"Well, will you take a look at that!" Hazel exclaimed, spreading out the most recent edition of the Charleston Gazette. "Did you know anything about this?" , she continued; staring into the eyes of the man seated across from her.

Hazel and Henrietta were making their bi-weekly visit to the Paint Creek Association Assisted Living Complex. When Abraham had decided to retire to the area Hazel had taken it upon herself to make frequent visits to the residence. Abraham had a long association with Louie's family; and Hazel frequently would take a disc recorder with her as she visited; transcribing the stories he told later. She thought maybe someday she would try to put them together into a cohesive book. Meanwhile they were a record of two families that had interacted over many miles and more then three generations. The contacts hadn't been frequent, but somehow West Virginia and New Orleans were tied together thorughy the two families.

"Do I know anything about what?" he responded; moving a rook in the chess game he was currently playing with Henrietta. "Hankerchief my girl, I've got you on the run now!"

"'Bout your grandson coming up here to play a benefit concert;" Hazel came back. "Right here!" she exclaimed, pointing at an article mid page of the Gazette.


JUDAH AND THE PROPHETS - Concert for the Benefit of the Paint Creek Watershed Renewal Project. September 1st. One show only!

Internationaly famous jazz violinst Judah Davidson and band to perform in a rare charity event.



Abraham pulled the paper closer and scanned the article. "It's news to me, Hazel. But look at the last couple of lines!"

"Mr. Davidson will be taking a sabbatical following the performance. I'll be spending a few weeks enjoying one of my favorite areas of the country; catch up with relatives and just maybe work on some new music"

A big slow grin spread across his face. "Bet it was suppossed to be a surprise visit. Hankerchief? You remember my grandson, don't you?"

Henrietta grinned "As if I could forget someone who came to visit with the biggest bluest bird I'd ever seen in my life! Will he bring Isis?"

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 26 Aug 08 - 11:26 PM

(Good on you! In sending them to the West, I sent them to a land I do not ken, and put them beyond my vision. ) And learned a valuable lesson in the process.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 26 Aug 08 - 09:51 AM

(just figured the Tulsa years must have had SOME purpose in the scheme of things; and a training period for Abiram under a(much)older being seemed logical.

I wanna know what's in those letters! Seems like Louie knows more about them then Sharon.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 25 Aug 08 - 09:54 PM

(absolutely spectacular, Leoluv!)

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 25 Aug 08 - 03:34 PM

And in the shadows of some scrub, just outside Tulsa a particularly large and handsome specimen of coyote grinned to himself as he curled into a dusty hollow, his brush covering his nose. Despite the youngster's feline superiority and disdain for any type of Canid; Coyote would miss him. NOT just for the energy Coyote had been able to divert to his own purposes; though all the Powers knew that between the young familiar and his human partner Coyote had had more energy available then he'd had in generations. No, he had to admit, at least to himself, that Coyote would miss the curiousity, the seeking spirit, and the companionship offerred by the proximity of another familiar. Raven may have visited on occasion; but normally stayed far to the NorthWest. It would be many a year, Coyote knew, before two familiars could relax and hunt voles together in a moment of ease after a moonlit ceremony. But it was time, and past time for Abiram to take up his duties in earnest. Isis would be within his reach, and even Coyote could take the time to look in on the young cat occasionaly.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 25 Aug 08 - 02:36 PM

Secure on her perch in the modest shotgun house in the French Quarter of New Orleans, Isis mantled her feathers; then preened. The youngster was a bit clumsy - but he WAS very young. Even so, things were beginning to fall back into place.

She streched, wings, neck and body; as a young man entered through the front door of the shotgun; precious fiddle tucked under his arm. "Isis! Always ready to greet me," he murmered softly, giving a gentle rub to her head. He carefully, but tiredly placed the fiddle on the table beside the perch of the Macaw and dropped into the padded recliner on the other side of the perch. "I thought Grandpa Abe was nuts when he gave you to me, but you have been a lifesaver. Always here, and always awake when I get home, no matter how late the gig."

He leaned back in the chair, popping the footrest out as his head sank into the pillowed back. His eyes closed as he continued to talk to the Hyacinth Macaw as if she could understand. Sometimes he thought she understood more then some people did; certainly more then Lilith, his current girl.

"I'm tired, Isis. I think it's time Judah Davidson took a break from the gigs and the recording studio. What do you think? Maybe the two of us head up north and visit Grandpa Abe in that retirement home of his? And maybe take a side trip through the hill country and see if we can get some more inspiration from people who aren't saturated in videos and MTV 24/7?"   He glanced sideways at the bird that had seen many generations of his family. "Being a celebity isn't all that it's cracked up to be, old girl; even if Dad grins all the way to the bank after every concert. Maybe Mom and Grandpa are right; music *needs* to be made for the joy. Not that the money hurts," he mused, but I miss jamming with Grandpa the way we did when I was little. And I Still say Mom is a better musician then any I could hire."

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: MMario
Date: 25 Aug 08 - 10:58 AM

Abiram wasn't at all pleased with himself. The Firearms Tobacco and Alcohol charges brought against Louie would serve the purpose of bringing Sharon back to the Holler; but were clumsy at best; manipulations barely worthy of a dog.

He was also a bit uneasy that the stretch in prison could conceivably cause a violation of the "Do No Harm" paradigm which governed his actions. Still, the chances of that happenning were mostly centered around Henrietta, and with both Sharon and Abiram himself back in the Holler, those possibilities would diminish rapidly. And Abiram wouldn't be facing the high energy costs of long distance wardings.

Henrietta in her 13th year. Yes, it was definately time for Sharon to return to the Holler. And despite the absurdly human state of the emotion; Abiram did want to see and smell the lilac that marked his father's final resting place.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 25 Aug 08 - 12:24 AM

Oh, love that Catitude!:-) Thanks, Janie!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Tinker
Date: 24 Aug 08 - 11:12 PM

Yeah !


Oh and thank you.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 24 Aug 08 - 09:11 PM

She thought back to that last night on the porch of the house on Grizzly Holler. The memory was as fresh and vivid as if she were just now opening her eyes to see the ebbing motion of the empty rockers to either side of her. She had never fully understood everything the two old women had said to her - there was much they didn't understand themselves. But as Aunt Kathy had said, eyebrows raised, "If magic could be fully explained, why, then it wouldn't be magic, would it?"

She reached again for Louie's letter, reread it and studied the the picture he had enclosed showing Hazel and Henrietta brandishing blooms cut from the big lilac bush by the cemetery gate before carrying them to lay on as many graves as they could find markers for in the small burying ground. From the date-stamp on the back, she guessed that must of been this past Memorial Day, early, judging from the shadows in the photo. They probably left there and headed up Paint Creek to the branch holler where Hazel's people lay, high on their own ridge.

All those old bones, traces of bones, and the good earth that most of them had already become again....molecules of what had once been the corporeal body of Mjolnir had been taken up into that lilac, the blooms now decomposing on the ground above where Cassie and Aunt Kathy's bodies lay....

Abiram had jumped from her lap to the desk and was staring intently at her eyes, demanding that she meet his gaze.   

"Okay, fella. You and Louie are right. It is time we went back for a visit."

He was about to drop down to the floor when she stuck the picture under his nose, tapped the lilac bush with a fingernail and said, "Here's your Daddy!"

His tail twitched in irritation as he stalked away from her.

.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 24 Aug 08 - 01:26 AM

Abiram had been twining around her legs as she stood at the desk, reading. He jumped onto her lap when she finally sat, purring loudly and kneading her thigh, pricking through her jeans with his sharp claws.

He had always clearly disdained Tulsa as a completely boring place with insufficient connections to warrant patrolling, much less warding, in any but a few and very rare circumstances.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 24 Aug 08 - 01:19 AM

Sharon laid the letter down on top of the box of letters sitting on the desk.

Home. Where was home?

It certainly wasn't here in this tiny rented apartment in Tulsa. How many times had she come back here, always certain of finding work with one of the companies who supplied the pipe for the oil industry? She had been here close to two years this time, but no one would know that from the appearance of the apartment. It was as personal as a suite of rooms at one of the hotel chains that catered to consultants and construction workers who came into town for a few weeks or months to work at a job site for their parent company.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 23 Aug 08 - 10:27 PM

Yes!!!

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Effsee
Date: 23 Aug 08 - 10:04 PM

Lord be praised! Welcome back Janie.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 23 Aug 08 - 06:54 PM

Louie turned around and shipped them right back to her.

Dere Sharon,

You got no biznes gettin rid of these letters, speshly since you have never red them in the 16 years you have held them. I ain't never figgered out if you has been chasin' ghosts or runnin' from them these years, and I dont reckon you have figgered that out either. You has done played in every band that almost made it between New Orleans, Memphis and Tulsa, covered every inch of country west of the Mississippi, and got yerself a graduate degree that you ain't never used. But you ain't never been back home once.

Now Sharon, I has held my peece and minded my business all these years, but that hole that you been tryin' to fill ain't gonna be filled with nothin' but home. It is time you came back here, at least for a visit. Besides, I'm probly gonna have to do some time on these moonshinin' charges, and I need you here for Hazel and the kids.

                                                                               Yer Oldest Pal,

                                                                               Louie

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: katlaughing
Date: 03 Feb 08 - 12:27 AM

(Delighted to follow this, again! Thanks, Janie!)

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 02 Feb 08 - 01:27 AM

The day before Christmas break Sharon finished her last exam, then headed to the Registrar's office to withdraw from school for the Spring semester.    Back at the rooming house, it didn't take her any longer to move all her things out than it had taken to move them in. In fact, it was a mite easier, since she was lugging stuff down the three flights of stairs this time. The first trip down, she carried the box of letters and placed them on the floor of the front seat of the car. Abiram, temporarily crated, was all she carried on her last trip down the stairway. Once outside, she sat the crate down gently on the sidewalk, walked around the house, and placed the key under the rock where she had originally found it. The landlady would be by tomorrow to get it.   That done, she retrieved Abiram, turning him loose in the car, and set out on the long drive to Tulsa.

It was time she found her father.

--------------------0----------------------0--------------------

She and Louie kept in touch.   When he and Hazel drove down to Parisburg, VA to get married the next summer, he sent her pictures, some of he and Hazel with her belly proudly starting to swell, taken by the magistrate, and a few others of the New River as it turned and headed for the Narrows, gathering speed for the wild run through the gorge.   

Hazel lost that first baby, but three more followed, Katherine Sally, Louie Jr., and Henrietta. Louie sent pictures, and Sharon sent birth presents for each one, and later, as they grew, birthday cards and token gifts.   When Henrietta turned twelve, Sharon sent the box of letters to Louie with a note saying she wanted Henrietta to have them. She couldn't say why she did that. it just seemed the right thing to do.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 02 Dec 07 - 10:48 PM

It didn't take long for Sharon to fall into the routine of of being a full-time college student again. She talked with Louie nearly every week, Big Bill less often. When she did, he never mentioned her signing of the farm over to Billy, so she didn't either. In fact, it was clear that Billy was going to be a taboo subject between them. She guessed she understood, Billy was his son after all. But it hurt that the estrangement brought about by the son also put distance between her and the man who had been the nearest thing she had known to a father.   

In November, it was Louie she told that she wouldn't be home for Thanksgiving. He was sorry to hear that, but said with Aunt Kathy gone, no one in the family had been able to come to agreement about Thanksgiving anyway.

"Don't matter none to me what they do," said Louie. " I wasn't plannin' on sittin' down at a table with that jackass Billy anyway. I'm goin' with Hazel Goins to her momma's house for Thanksgiving."

A day or two later Big Bill called. "Billy and I are going out to Dad's for Thanksgiving.   Louie said you aren't planning on coming down?"

"That's right. And if I were, Bill, I'd find somewhere else to go. Billy, as I'm sure you know, still won't have anything to do with me." She had to say at least that much.

"Damnit, Sharon. I'm so sorry about all this." Then, "You did the right thing, girl, giving back to Billy what should have been his to start with. I didn't see it that way at first, but Mom didn't have no business cuttin' him out of the farm like she did. She shoulda known it would cause trouble."

Sharon was too stunned to say anything in reply.

"He's got no excuse now for not speaking to you, or reaching out in some way. I think...."

Finding her voice at last, Sharon cut him off. "Nuff said, Uncle Bill. I'll talk to you soon." She hung up the phone.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 02 Dec 07 - 09:43 PM

The cardboard box Big Bill had given her was all that remained. Abiram watched intently as she lifted it from the floor. She turned and sat on the bed, placed the box in her lap, and raised the lid. Abiram moved over to her side, rolled onto his back, and swatted at the box lid she held in her hand.

"I'm neglecting you, little one. You want some attention!"   She replaced the lid, shoved the box up on the closet shelf, and turned back to Abiram, who happily wrestled with her and chased a shoestring for the next half-hour, until they had both had enough. Deciding to call it a night, she headed for the shower, got into her pajamas and climbed into bed with a Lee Smith book to read herself to sleep. She watched with bemusement as Abiram, with great concentration and dignity, patrolled the perimeter of the room, paying special attention as he sniffed and nudged at each window and the door. At last satisfied, he returned to the bed and curled up against her side.

It wasn't long before Sharon laid down the book, turned out the light, and scooted down under the covers. Abiram stood and stretched, then moved up to the neighboring pillow. Sharon reached over to scratch his ears. "You know what buddy?" she queried. "It is gonna be awhile before I am ready to look at those letters. I need to move forward not back. Besides, it somehow just doesn't feel right that they are with me.   I don't know who should have them. But something is saying it isn't me."

Abiram, enjoying his head scratching, didn't respond.

Subject: RE: Fiction:The Woman in the Holler
From: Janie
Date: 01 Dec 07 - 11:06 PM

Sharon placed the picture taken at that last Easter gathering at the graveyard on the desk.    All the Easter mornings they had sung up the sun from that graveyard, and the only record of any of them was this photograph of the last one. They all sat grinning and squinting into the morning sun, surrounded by modest stone markers. Aunt Kathy had laughed when she saw it. "Look at us, grinnin' like possums in the middle of all those gravestones. We look like we're celebrating the passing of a rich uncle!"

The next frame held a copy of a poorly restored lithograph of her great, great, maternal grandparents, Joseph and Verlina Dobbins Ross.   Straight mouthed, steely-eyed, grimly enduring the difficult business of life on a poor dirt farm in Eastern Kentucky, sustained by the promise of rest and reward in heaven. She hung that on the wall above the bed, along with a small portrait of her parents, taken before Sharon was born. The files she had stashed under the bed included a copy of her mother's obituary. Now, having removed herself from the people that were really her family, she wondered briefly but bitterly where her drunk of a father might be. He'd written to Big Bill about a year ago from Tulsa, wanting to borrow some money.

The last picture was a snapshot taken of Billy, Louie and herself when they were 9 and 10 years old, They were standing on a flat rock in the middle of Grizzly Creek, leaning into each other, proudly displaying a large glass jar filled with creek water, shiners and crawdads. She remembered how mad they were when Cassie made them pour it all back into the creek after the picture was taken. She held the little picture in both hands, studied it, searched their three faces, noticed the easy intimacy of their prepubescent bodies crowded together on that little space of rock.   She rewrapped it in newspaper and added it to the box of files.