New Yesterdays by Jim L Wright - HTML preview

Chapter 3

The three boys stood at the edge of the road, staring at the Old House. Each one was daring himself to go forward. Both Tony and Michael were sure that their older brother had made up the entire story, but there was just enough doubt to make them wary of entering their new favorite play-place. Everything looked exactly as it had looked the last time they played there with the possible exception of a few more empty beer and half-pint whiskey bottles. The old, mostly unused logging road, or pulpwood road as they are known in these parts, was a favorite stopping off place for men and teen aged boys. They parked their cars and shared bootlegged beer or whiskey behind the overgrown entrance to the road. The empties were carelessly tossed out of the car, littering the ground giving mute testimony on the effectiveness of prohibition in the county.

In the end, it was Tony who said it.

“Well, are we gonna stand here like a bunch of eejits or are we gonna find out what the hell Jim's newest tale of horror and mystery is about?” At that, Jim's temper flared momentarily and he closed his fists in preparation for a fight.

Eventually he regained control of his temper and said “C’mon, let’s go see” and started walking toward the house, hoping the boys were following him.

The sound of the other two boys’ footsteps behind him sent a flood of relief washing over Jim. It wasn’t that he was afraid… exactly. He had been in the Old House several times already both with and without his brothers. The only real mystery about the Old House lay in the lives lived here and the reasons for its abandonment. Naturally, Jim had concocted many strange, eerie stories surrounding the house. Most of them ended in tragedy for the family who had lived there, and more than a few involved the ghosts of the family who lay buried mere yards from the front door of the other house. The events of this morning though, changed everything.

Once inside the house the boys didn’t bother looking around. They knew every inch of this house at least as well as they knew their own home. They made a beeline to the kitchen in the back of the house and all three dropped to their knees to peer under the sink.

Tony was the first to comment. “Ain’t no hole in that wall for you to get through…” The boys watched the amazement filling Jim's wide eyes as he stared at the wall.

“Dammit, I went through it and came back out in the same place!” “I reckon the leprechauns came and fixed it while I was coming to get y’all”

He fully believed that leprechauns were not confined to Ireland. They were everywhere, even in Piedmont, Alabama.

Jim crawled under the sink and reached out to touch the wall. He hesitated for a brief instant, but the sniggering of his brothers prodded his hand forward. Just as before, he heard no sound of breaking wood, but his hand disappeared.

“Holy Goddamn!!!” the other two boys’ voices were low and filled with astonishment.

“Pull it back out!” whispered Tony. They were astonished to see Jim's hand looking exactly as it had before he put it into the wall.

Very well, a disappearing and reappearing hand was one thing, but they were planning to actually go inside. This required planning and discussion. The first thing they all agreed was that they should not go off alone. If the rest of Jim's story was true, and neither of the brothers disbelieved it any longer, then pretty much anything could happen. Better to stay together for safety. So, first they would scout out grounds where the house should’ve been and then explore the surrounding area. At last, the question arose of who would go first. Michael wanted to go first, but both Jim and Tony wanted that honor, too. Eventually, they decided to proceed as they always did, by age. Jim went in first, followed by Tony and then Michael.

Once inside, Jim paused to savor the delicious aroma of the damp soil in the cave. After the other two boys got inside, they set off toward the lighted mouth of the cave. As they made their way through the cave Jim thought that he really must write all this down. It would make a great tale for school!

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Once outside the cave, both Tony and Michael experienced the same sense of disorientation and confusion that had overwhelmed Jim earlier. All three gawked as they took in the top of the small hill where the Old House should be. It was merely part of the forest. Jim remarked that it sounded like there were a lot more birds. The other two boys agreed there did seem to be a lot more birdsong than they were accustomed to, but at the same time, it seemed quieter. The sounds of the big tractor-trailer trucks on highway 278, a scant mile away were not to be heard. No aeroplanes were in the air either.

They looked apprehensively down the trail toward what should be their homeplace. After some minutes had passed, they began to walk without even discussing it. They didn’t talk much as they walked, and when they did it was in hushed tones. As they reached the first curve of the trail Jim pointed out that the old logging road wasn’t there. None of them broke his stride as they continued down the gentle incline. After a few minutes they found themselves approaching the top of another small rise in the terrain. From here they should be able to see the houses of their grandparents and parents. They stopped as one, staring in shocked silence at the scene below. In place of the corn and cotton fields, the two small houses, barn, chicken coop and hog parlor they expected to see, they saw a village of small houses. Several fires burned and were being tended by women wearing leather skirts and ponchos. A few small children ran about playing games. Near the spot where their mailbox used to stand were several horses, hobbled and grazing on the lush grass.

One house stood alone and apart from the village. It was somewhat smallish, but larger than some of the houses in the village proper. From here it looked to be about four rooms and two chimneys poked their burgundy heads out through the roof. Off what appeared to be the kitchen was a porch and underneath it was a dugout cellar for storing food and other provisions. The house was built of logs that had been squared off with mud daubed in the chinks. The roof was covered with wooden shingles like the outer walls of their grandparent's house. The house was surrounded by a small expanse of lawn dotted here and there with rose bushes and other flowers. A small kitchen garden with tomatoes, corn, watermelons and other vegetables filled one corner of the property. The edge of the garden joined the Indian village. It was the old house that abutted Granddaddy’s farm!

At the center of the village was a large seven-sided council house surrounded by smaller ones for families. The walls of the houses were cane and vines woven into the frame and covered with mud plaster. The tall pointed roofs were thatched with grasses. One door gave admittance into the house and there were no windows. The much larger central council house was built of the same materials. A communal garden with corn, beans, squash and sunflowers grew neatly at the edge of the village. They saw several women bent over pulling weeds from amongst the vegetables. Most of the family houses had smaller gardens next to them. Three very old men dressed only in deerskin breechclouts sat near a fire, smoking pipes and talking quietly. From time to time, they laughed gently at some joke or story.

All three of the boys were speechless for long minutes as they stared at the tableau displayed at the foot of the hill. Each wrestled with his confusion and bewilderment. The surreal quality of the scene turned their world upside down and they didn’t know what to make of it, at all. Suddenly, Tony became aware that they were no longer alone. With a sharp intake of breath, he turned his head to see a young boy about their own age standing no more than two yards away. Shirtless, and clad only a deerskin breechclout and moccasins, he stared at them in much the same way they stared at the village. Tony’s gasp caught the attention of his brothers making them aware of their new companion. The four boys stared at each other for a full minute before the Cherokee boy stepped forward and extended his hand.

“Hello, I am Dustu.” His soft, dark eyes and warm smile of welcome put the boys instantly at ease. After they made introductions, Dustu asked them “Where do you come from, and what is this strange dress you wear?” They looked down at their clothing, which they didn’t consider strange at all, consisting only of cotton shorts made for them by their Mother. Neither of them wore a shirt nor shoes.

“Well, this is what we always wear in summer unless we’re going to church or something” answered Jim. “We don’t ever wear pants or shirts when we’re out of school.”

Dustu continued to gaze at their shorts for a bit and then said “I have seen such fabric worn by the white people but never in this way. Some of our people have even begun to wear clothing made of the same fabric.” Then he asked them again “What village do you come from?”

Dustu continued to look pointedly at each of the boys as he waited for their answer. The boys were decidedly uncomfortable. How were they supposed to tell this boy that their home should be exactly on the other side of this village? Jim could see the beginnings of suspicion creeping into Dustu’s eyes. His stance and facial expression had stiffened just perceptibly.

“You will never believe where we came from” he told Dustu at last, and very nearly missed the boy’s quick glance at the trail they had just come down.

“You came from the cave.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

“There are tales among my people of a man who came from the cave many years ago.”

“That’s where we came from! Have you never been in it?” asked Tony.

“No, it is forbidden for our people to go inside because it brings instant death!”

Michael observed “Well, you can see we didn’t die!”

As they sat down onto the soft green grass Dustu explained that the magic of the cave allowed passage out of and into their world, but destroyed any from this side who tried to venture through.

“I must take you to meet my father, Adahy, who is the Medicine Man in our village.” “He will want to take you to see Tooantuh who is the leader of our village so they can hear all about your travels.”

Jim interrupted him, “We haven’t done any travels, we’ve only just walked down this here trail!” Dustu gave him a knowing smile.

“You’ve traveled more than you know, my friend. My father will explain it to you.”

Looking at their 'new' surroundings, the boys became fearful. They wanted to know more about this strange, wonderful place but were afraid to go any further. They moved a short distance from the strange boy they had met to talk it over. Tony was the first to speak.

"I say we hightail it outta here and get back to where we belong! I don't know what this place is, but we've got no business here."

Michael energetically nodded his agreement. "Hell, we might end up getting scalped by these wild Indians!" Slowly, Jim nodded his agreement and left the boys standing there and approached Dustu.

"My brothers think this might not be a good place for us to be and we're going back home." He moved a few steps further, giving the Indian boy a look that said 'come with me' and after walking a short distance he whispered "I want to know about this place. I'll be coming back on my own after a while."

Dustu looked into the boy’s eyes and then over his shoulder at the two brothers. He nodded and in a very low voice, said "I will wait here for you."

Jim shook his hand and moved back to where his brothers stood, practically dancing in their desire to leave this strange place and get back home. When he came abreast of them, they ran back to the old house place and pushed their way back into the cave.

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