A Small Town

Chapter Thirty-Five/ New Beginnings

Authors Note: I want to thank anyone who made it this far! You are awesome! If you enjoyed my work please consider buying a copy on Amazon. I keep the price as low as possible, and most of all I would really appreciate a review over there!  https://www.amazon.com/Small-Town-Allan-Fisher-ebook/dp/B0BJ2NZ6GK

July 16th, 2005 - Sundridge Ontario

Bax sat on his backyard deck with the letter open in his lap letting the warm summer breeze wash over him. The chatter of birds in the trees above mixed with the soft sound of the waves on Lake Bernard and he smiled contentedly. Lisa was inside the house taking a nap with the baby.

The pregnancy had been normal enough and they had even toyed with the idea of naming her Agathe but eventually settled on Elizabeth usually shortened to Beth. She was perfect in every way and Bax could not have been happier.

The letter had come as a surprise. It seemed Heather Munday hadn't had much of a formal education. The printing was small and cramped with many spelling mistakes but easy enough to decipher. Pastor Black was dead, really dead this time. He had passed not from a heart attack but simply old age.

His original heart problem had actually been angina, easily controlled with an aspirin a day.

Heather spoke at length about the various changes to Primacy, now that people could finally come and goes as they pleased. Some of the townsfolks had left and swore they would never return, but most chose to stay. The majority of people are afraid or at least leery of change and the grass, it would seem, isn't always greener on the other side. Inside the envelope were a number of news clippings, most of which Bax had already read.

The Primacy Fire, as the reporters had dubbed it was big news for about a week. The entire forest had burned to the ground and threatened to consume the town. In the end, twelve pumper trucks, aerial water drops and hundreds of firemen from all over northern Ontario finally managed to bring it under control.

The melted husk of the fuel tanker and DNA testing confirmed the death of Ed Walters, but why he had crashed into the wishing well and then driven his truck into the heart of the forest was beyond the investigators understanding.

The body of Sarah Massie was never found even after an extensive search of the well and the underground tunnel network beneath. Questions were asked and Pastor Black had told the police everything he knew which really wasn't much and to his credit, he didn't mention Lisa or Bax at all.

After the crash, they had made their way back to Paige Turners bookstore, packed their things and hitched a ride out of town with a newspaper reporter name Wayne something-or-other. Bax had held his breath as they crossed the town line with Lisa squeezing his hand so tightly that he thought his fingers might break. Of course, nothing happened and Wayne whats-his-name hadn't seemed to notice.

In return for the ride, they had given him an extremely edited version of the events leading up the fire. The story that made it into the paper contained no mention of Teddy, or Agathe and listed Lisa and Bax as 'anonymous sources'.

Heather's letter had ended with far too many X's and O's and her fervent wish that they would come back and visit. Bax knew they never would. In fact, even Sundridge seemed too close, so Bax had been slowly feeling Lisa out with regards to a move. Perhaps someplace warm, by the ocean, and far away from here.

He frowned slightly and looked out over the property. The backyard was large and sloped down slightly towards the beach. The grass was a brilliant green and nothing blocked his view of the lake. When he had bought the place the lot had been dotted with birch and maple trees but he had had them all removed before he and Lisa had moved in... just in case.

There was a sound behind him as the sliding door opened.

"Dinners ready!" Lisa called.

"Coming!" He rose from the Adirondack chair and padded across the deck enjoying the feel of the warm boards on the soles of his bare feet. Bax turned at the open door and looked back out over the lake, drawing a deep breath clean country air. Maybe they could stay here... maybe.

~o0O0o~

At that moment less than fifteen miles away lay the ash covered ground of what had once been a forest. A squirrel scurried between the blackened stumps, stopping sporadically to smell the air. Its nose twitched madly and it jumped over a huge stump looking for the elusive smell. It stopped again and turned back to the stump, abruptly poking its head into a small knot-hole just above a thick charred root.

The squirrel came out with a prize, one small seed, which it turned over and over in its tiny nimble paws. He chattered excitedly over his find, there was very little left to eat now that the forest was gone.

He was about to pop the seed in his mouth when the hawk hit him. It had come out of the sky like a rocket, drawn by his happy noises and the lack of cover. The huge bird's talons sank deep into his back killing him almost instantly.

The hawk stood still for a moment to make sure its quarry was dead. As the life left the squirrel, its the tiny paws released the seed which tumbled end over end and landed in a soft pile of ash, dirt and debris.

Satisfied, the hawk began to peck at its dinner, ripping out chunks of flesh and swallowing them greedily.

Suddenly a small green shoot shot up out of the earth and wrapped itself around one of the bird's legs. The hawk screeched and flapped its wings madly, finally tearing itself away from the thing. It flew up into the air leaving its dinner behind in terror.

The shoot seemed to writhe along the ground weaving itself around the dead squirrel until the animal disappeared from view, then it rose up growing quickly into a small sapling with a strange jagged scar across its trunk.

*****

Authors note: Thank you to everyone who read, voted and commented on this first draft. You have helped me and encouraged me more than you know. 

Allan F.