As Far as the Curved Road Takes Us Chapter two

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

As Far as the Curved Road Takes Us

Here is the beginning of the book. This is a first draft of the book, no editing, no stopping, just written with the flow of words. It is how I love to write, just get the words down as they come and then worry about the perfection aspects later. Let's repeat, this is a rough draft and there are mistakes. I know this, but the ideas have been coming to me lately and I have to get them down. So, let me know what you think about the content as I add a new chapter. Have suggestions on the plot, theme, and character development, let me know!!!!! I will look at the passive sentences, the many other grammatical errors later, just let me know what you think!. It will be our writing project!


As Far as the Curved Road Takes Us
Chapter One

I am sitting here writing this account of what has gone on with a great deal of anxiety. I do not know if the internet service we have will support uploading this document. I am supposed to be uploading the draft of my book tonight. However, I have just written the first couple sentences of the book. I have a long way to go and not much confidence in my ability to succeed. I guess it isn’t much of a surprise if you knew me that procrastination has overtaken my common sense. I fear this book will not be any good and in an effort of self-preservation, I procrastinate.

I have been writing successful novels for many years and I simply ran out of material to incorporate into my stories. Until recently that is. I have been rather busy lately taking care of some of my neighbors who have run into some mysterious circumstances. I tried to stay out of their business outside of being friendly, but that did not work out very well.

I live in a small town of Gerton, North Carolina. When I say small town, I mean there is no gas station, no restaurants, and most of the houses you see from highway 74 or Charlotte highway as it is known. I have been told that there are more streets with houses on them that branch off the highway, but I have yet to venture down those roads. It is one of those things; if you do not need to be down that road, why travel it. The roads are curvy gravel roads that are also very steep. I looked at some of the small businesses around my home and am pleased to find a small little grocery attached to the Hickory Nut Gorge Community Center. Yes, we have a community center, but not a single gas station for miles. Nita and Susan own the little grocery store. I have been in there a few times, but I have yet to figure out who Nita and Susan are. I can probably pick them out of a line up as I have seen them going in the back of the store to bring out more products and talk to suppliers, but to know which is which, can’t do.

The fire station in Gerton is located right across from the post office. Met the postman, but cannot remember his name. He was very friendly, but for the life of me I cannot remember if his name was Gary or if I just think it is. There is a cute little quilt shop near my home, but I have never been in there. I simply cannot figure where I should park. It is close enough to my home that I could walk, but the way the cars and motorcycles speed on this curvy road, I would be afraid of being killed.

I live on a very small dead end street called Hickory Cottage Drive. It has two small cottages on either end of the road and a small motel to the right of my home. There are about six doors on this motel, but one man lives in the apartment that was made out of four of the rooms. The owners store some of their belongings in the other two areas. My house is a ranch home attached to a two story home. My attached neighbor has rented that side of the home for several years. Only thing is, she is never there. I saw her car in the drive way for about five minutes. She was here and gone before I really knew she was there. When I saw her car, I started a batch of scones for her but she was gone before I even got them in the oven. I enjoyed the chocolate chocolate chip scones for several days.

Sally rents the small cottage at the front of Hickory Cottage Drive. Ted rents the motel, Daisy rents the two story and Sean rents the other small cottage at the back of the dead end. There is an old barn behind the two story and next to Sean’s cottage that is more storage for the owner. They own all these properties, so it is like a small cozy neighborhood. The street we turn on from highway 74 to get to Hickory Cottage Drive is Bearwallow Cemetery Drive. Yes, there is an actual cemetery on this road. There are even families in homes up and down that road. However, I have not ventured up this road any during the first two months I lived here. I have been busy unpacking, writing, and trying to figure out where this book was going. I still do not know.

Now, I have to tell you that Sean and Sally seem nice enough, but Ted kind of gives me the creeps. He has not done anything really all that creepy, but just enough to be weird. Sean lives along and has a girlfriend that will come over on occasion. Sally fell and broke her hip the day that I moved in and her adult daughter has been staying with her. The daughter brought her dog with and I am sure that makes for a very crowded one bedroom tiny cottage. Daisy, I am not sure what her home looks like and why she needed so much room. As I said, she is never there. I mean never. Ted works at a local restaurant near Chimney Rock or Lake Lure; I forget which. In case you did not know, Lake Lure is famous for the location where Dirty Dancing filmed. He leaves for work in the afternoons and comes home around nine at night. I find him often watching me as I head to my car, walk to the mailboxes, or mess around my home. I feel weird, not stalked, but weird.
My home is a large ranch with four bedrooms, nice size living room, dining room, two bathrooms, kitchen, and laundry room. There is a door in the kitchen that leads to the outside and to a door leading to Daisy’s side. I keep the door to the outside locked as well as the door to my side. I do not believe that Daisy knows that I have that door locked, like I said, she was only here for five minutes or so and I doubt she checked the outside door.

I work from home doing some great freelance writing projects. I have more business than I know what to do with sometimes. I hope it keeps up until I finish this book and a couple more books in the future. I am trying to save all the book profits in savings and work on the freelance stuff for my daily needs. I head over to the local library pretty much every day. They have internet that works slightly faster than the slow speeds my internet service provides me. I also like to watch people and this certainly provides interesting views of mountain life. The library is over in Fairview, about six miles away. A Food Lion is near the library along with a few pizza and gyro options.

We do not have sight access where we live on Hickory Cottage Drive for satellite dishes for television. We do not have sight access for local stations even with a converter box since the United States did away with real free television. We cannot receive cable television services, as they have not come to our part of the highway. However, if look a few feet from our home on 74, to the right and to the left you will see they have cable service. It is just a few feet. I cannot believe it. We have spotty cell phone service at times and we have no access to phone lines. No landline phone services in our own homes. The small little road is littered with attempts at various dishes from a variety of companies, but the service stopped working as the trees continued to grow. It is a miracle my internet satellite works, but it is slower than dial up and limits what you can download each day. I cannot even download television shows. Again, this explains my trips to the library.
It is hard to believe that the world is so technologically advanced mere feet from my door, yet in this little street, five homes have less access to the rest of the world as some third world countries. It is quiet at night, except for the neighborhood dogs barking and an occasional car door slamming when someone comes home from work. Ted will play his car radio at night to listen to ball games, news, or commentary. I forgot to mention it is hard to get a radio station in the houses. The mountain is seriously close to our homes, I measured it outside my dining room window. The house ends and 13 inches later the mountain begins its climb up and up and up. It is beautiful, dark and yet there are times in the back yard so to speak the sun shines down between the trees and their long branches. If my fear of snakes and poisonous spiders was not so intense I probably would investigate it more. Nevertheless, it is severe and I like the pictures I see looking out my kitchen and dining room windows. It is just enough to take care of my curiosity.

Taking Care of the Written Word,
Dannielyn