Chapter Two
The sun was shining for at least an hour this morning before the spring rain clouds blocked the little sun that comes through the trees in my front yard. I took my toast and Chai outside to eat on the porch. It was a mistake. The bees and other flying insects enjoyed the smell of my toast with butter and honey just as much as I did. After picking off a few gnats from the honey pooled in the center of my toast, I folded the bread in half and quickly ate it. There was no way the bugs were going to get the best of my breakfast. I sat outside for a while longer with my feet up on another chair, pulled out my Kindle, and began to read.
You are probably thinking that there is something wrong with a writer of books to have a Kindle. I know the arguments that surrounding electronic readers. I do not think there is a real problem with having an electronic reader and writing books. I have four bookcases full of books in my house. I love collecting books, old, new, hard cover, paperback; it does not matter as long as it is a book. I have purchased a ton of books in the traditional style since having a Kindle. However, it is so much easier to read and hold a Kindle than books. I love being able to head off to an appointment, while waiting taking out my Kindle and it is so easy to slip it back into my bag when the appointment begins. Besides, when sitting outside and the wind picks up, I do not have to mess with flapping pages. That is where I am at right now, the wind is picking up, and I am reading my Kindle without flapping pages, perfect.
The sky is really getting dark. I do not think this will be a light spring shower. This may be a huge thunderstorm. Of course, if I had decent access to the internet or any access to local television or radio, I would know that indeed a thunderstorm is heading my way. It is a good thing that I can read the clouds and determine that the storm is upon me. I settle into my chair outside on the porch. There is nothing better than sitting under the porch roof during a storm. The wind, rain, and smell of the storm are a thrill for the senses. I choose a mystery to read, what better type of reading material to choose than a book that has murder happening on a dark and stormy day or night. Isn’t that when all bad things happen.
My house is up on a ledge of the mountain, not too high compared to my neighbors, but it allows me to look down up them and my Durango. Right in front of where I park my Durango is a small creek with a covered bridge crossing over to a park like setting. There are a couple of benches over on the other side, but I do not head over there for a couple of reasons. First, there is a lot of bird droppings and bugs and second, it is in direct view of Ted’s doors. That is how I first realized that he spent a great deal of time watching me. Again, he could have been wondering why I was reading on a bench full of bird droppings, swatting at bugs, and not doing anything creepy, but who knows. I was still creeped out.
Anyways, today I was looking out at the beautiful bridge as it was getting darker due to the storm and saw someone walking by the trees that are right next to highway 74. Now, the person was not walking on the side of the trees by highway 74 but on the side of this side of the trees. When I say walking, I mean this person was creeping more than walking. I couldn’t tell if it was Mountain Man or his wife, but since the person had a shirt on, and I have never seen Mountain Man with a shirt I don’t think it was him. Could be his wife, but she usually walks on the side of the road hoping to hitch a ride to Fairview or other locales close by. My assumption was that it was not Mountain Man or his wife.
Now a bit about Mountain Man. He introduces himself as Mountain Man. Said he used to go by the name Mountain Boy but he since grew up. He has a hat one would assume a Mountain Man would wear on his head, long grey hair, and long grey beard, very tanned since he does not wear a shirt, and smells like a variety of liquor. If I was a drinker I could probably have a better idea of what he was drinking, but I could rule out beer and wine. Other than that, no idea, but considering the location of where he lives, his name, and his appearance, I would guess moonshine may be one of the preferred beverages. I will admit that it is an assumption, but we will forgive that stereotype assumption this one time.
Sean’s car is gone so I couldn’t be him walking the rim of the trees. Sally is bringing her dog into her cottage and that leaves her out of the equation. Since she is about as big around as a small tree branch, I could have ruled her out even before she brought her dog in. Ted is standing under his porch roof, smoking a cigarette, and looking over at me. I grimace inside and wave back to him. He hollars, “hi neighbor”. I yell back hello and go back to reading. Someday I have to confront him and his watching behavior. So I have ruled my closest neighbors, but when I look back up at the stranger walking by the trees I cannot find him. I pretend that I am reading my Kindle and watch the tree line. Crud, I really need to get my glasses. I cannot seem very well far away. I do not wear my glasses much, I mean what is the point if I do not need to see the beautiful museum collection of televisions I have in my house.
I see a slight movement between three very close trees across the way. The person is hiding between the trees. I continue to watch him or her for a few more minutes and then the sky becomes even darker. It is almost as dark as night out here. I run into the house for the glasses and grab the binoculars hanging by the door. Okay, I know it is strange to have binoculars by the door, but I do like to watch birds and well, sometimes the glasses just do not bring enough detail to see the birds.
I cannot find the person in the trees even with the binoculars. Just so you know, I am standing inside my house at a window looking out. I may be peeking at someone with binoculars, but I am smart enough to do so with some element of privacy on my part. Heck, who wants to expose themselves to the world as a nosy neighbor with binoculars when you can hide and do find out the same thing.
My cell phone rings and I do not recognize the phone number. A serious debate goes on in my head as to whether I should answer the phone. I pick up the phone and answer professionally, “Sophia Grace.” My full name is Sophia Grace Lyle, but I use Sophia Grace as my writing name. I think it speaks more as a writer’s name and offers me some anonymity. I like my privacy and since I do quite a bit of writing in the community and online, I need something that is all mine and private.
I spend a great deal of time on the internet searching for freebies and products to try and review. You always have to include your phone number. I have businesses call me for repeat orders and that is what this call was for, they wanted to know if I needed more organic dog treats. Now, I do not have a dog, I have a cat. It is a huge coon cat named Gizmo. While the cat is huge, it is not overly fat and it is not keen on dog treats. I requested a sample of the dog treats for the neighbor’s dog that comes and visits each of the neighbor here on Hickory Cottage drive. He lives on Bearwallow Cemetery road right by the entrance off of 74. I am not sure of his name, since he wanders around without a collar or his owner hollering for him. I call him Max. He seems to enjoy the name Max. Or he may enjoy the attention I give him or the treats. Since Max is not my dog, I really did not want to invest in dog treats so I requested a sample. Max liked the treats, but I have also seen other things Max likes to eat and well, I do not know if organic dog treats are that important to him overall. I tell the telemarketer that I no longer have a dog and start to sniffle. She goes into a round of apologies and hangs up. I know I should feel bad, but right now, I don’t.
Gizmo is sitting on the back of the sectional looking out at the storm coming down. He looks like he is bored and yet slightly interested in what I am looking at. I try to find the person in the trees but he is no longer there. I thought that was strange, I decide that I have nothing else to look at out there and put the binoculars away, grab a glass of tea, and read my Kindle. The storm is really kicking up some speed, lightening, and thunder and I look out the window to see the same person from the trees heading towards the bridge. The person I have identified as a man, an unknown man is climbing under the bridge instead of finding refuge under the roof of the bridge. This is strange behavior and I for one am a little freaked out. I hide myself some more behind the curtain and continue to watch what the man is doing. He is looking towards Sean’s cottage. I looked at the clock and checked the time, it was a few minutes past eleven in the morning. I kept watch of this man for nearly two hours under the bridge. Then I notice him walking towards the back of Sean’s house. I decide to call the police to inquire about what I should do about this situation when I notice my cell phone does not have enough of a signal to make the call. I may have to talk with Sean when he comes home from work.
Taking care of the written word,
dannielyn
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