The Kanc

By Steven Porter

When Rick and Annie Waldron, a bitter elderly couple, turn onto New Hampshire's legendary Kancamagus Highway in a dangerous snowstorm, they are unaware that their fate may lie with an ancient forest alive with a vengeful spirit. (Short Story)

This special edition of "The Kanc" includes free bonus chapter's from Steven R. Porter's novels "Confessions of the Meek & the Valiant and "Manisses."

• Language: English
• Publisher: Stillwater River Publications
• Release date: Oct 24, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301321667

Steven Porter

Steven R. Porter is the author of the critically acclaimed novels, "Confessions of the Meek and the Valiant" and "Manisses" is a writer, marketing consultant and former Director of Advertising and Public Relations for Lauriat's Bookstores, Inc. Steven is also a frequent speaker and lecturer on Internet technologies and emerging publishing techniques.In September 2011, he founded the Association of Rhode Island Authors (www.RIAuthors.org) and currently serves as its first president. He is also a member of the Rhode Island Romance Writers (RIRW), the Independent Publishers of New England (IPNE) and is an author-member of the New England Independent Booksellers Association (NEIBA.)Steven and his wife Dawn are active volunteers in their local community and reside in the village of Harmony, Rhode Island with their two children Thomas and Susannah.Steven is a seasoned and entertaining public speaker, and is available for author readings, lectures, book signings, book groups and other special events.

Book preview

The Kanc

A short story

by

Steven R. Porter

Smashwords Edition

The Kanc Copyright © 2012 Steven R. Porter. All rights reserved. Written and produced in the United States of America. No part of this story may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission of the author.

Works written by Steven R. Porter can be obtained either through the author’s official website: http://www.stevenporter.com or through select, online book retailers.

Cover design by Dawn M. Porter.

The Kanc

By Steven R. Porter

The Kancamagus Highway is one of the most scenic and breathtaking byways in all of North America, stretching through the heart of New Hampshire’s majestic White Mountain National Forest, and obediently delivering its tourist-laden contents into the kitschy ski resorts around bustling North Conway. The twisting, snaking road built upon the well-worn footpaths of natives long since displaced, scampers around and through the unpredictable rolling hills, valleys and stately mountains, and can be a challenge for any unprepared or inexperienced motorist. In the fall, the leaf-peepers, highlighted by garrisons of old entitled women in floppy hats accompanied by their slow, overweight husbands, clog the popular artery, dodging the occasional exasperated deer or moose, to absorb the fragrance, crisp color and beauty honored, worshipped and revered by generations.

But in the blink of an eye, the vibrant leaves along the grand highway fall at the command of Mother Nature’s steely sabre, and a dutiful and harsh cold marches in, seemingly overnight, to replace the scenic picture book tranquility. Like the original native residents, the local citizens have learned to honor the authority of The Kanc, or otherwise risk becoming its victim, as The Kanc serves as not only the pathway of a great spirited forest bathed in majestic beauty, but it is also a sentinel, hunched down in silence, waiting to strike at those who convey it dishonor. The vindictive mountain blizzards are not too far behind, and always arrive too soon with an astonishing fury, as Dr. Jekyll begets Mr. Hyde, and the highway’s twists and turns become lathered with thick, white snow and glazed with unforgiving patches of black ice that thrust out and terrorize the discourteous like a jab from the point of an ancient sachem's favorite hunting spear.

The visibility along The Kanc was poor from the moment Rick and Annie turned off the interstate and drove east late that afternoon. The combination of rain and raw air had created a bluish, hazy fog. And as it was prone to do during the early winter months, the precipitation was mutating into a heavy, wet snow, sticky and reminiscent of Annie’s own holiday garlic-mashed potatoes, covering the car's wiper blades in two thick, white starchy columns. The thirty mile drive through these mountains during any winter storm was unwise, but during an irate nor’easter, it was flat out foolish. The arrogant Rick Waldron held the steering wheel of his old, restored Dodge Dart at an instructor-perfect 10 and 2 o’clock posture, white-knuckled, peering through his glasses at the winding, white, wiggling, vanishing highway ahead of him.

You’re not listening to me, are you? I said we should turn back. We ought to go home, now. This is stupid. Annie grumbled from the Dart’s threadbare passenger’s seat – the only part of the car Rick had not restored. We’re going to kill ourselves out here… and we don’t even know how to ski.

Rick sulked and squeezed the wheel harder. Blue veins popped like angry worms from the back of his pudgy, liver-spotted hands.

This ski vacation is the first respectable gift that insolent daughter of yours has ever given us. I’ve endured forty years of ugly neckties and brown leather wallets waiting for this. I, for one, intend to enjoy it whether you want me to or not. So if you don’t want to go with me, you can get out and walk.

Oh, poor you. Poor old Rick! How is it you’re always the victim? What about Lizzie? You should consider yourself lucky we got anything from Lizzie at all, considering the way you act around her. Why won’t you just accept her the way she is and leave her alone? Annie asked, folding her arms in a harrumph of disgust.

Rick squinted into the mushy darkness ahead of him as the car suddenly fishtailed, and Annie’s arms flailed over her head, knocking her floppy hat into the backseat, exposing a disorganized nest of unkempt, thin gray hair.

Slow down! Annie barked, fanning herself. You’re going to kill us both!

I treat our daughter the way she has always deserved to be treated. She’s impudent, slovenly and rotten to her core and you know it.

So what is so wrong with her? You blame her all the time. Everything was always her fault, never yours, wasn’t it? Maybe if you had been around a little more often and spent more time with her while she was growing up, she would buy you better presents. This trip was a stupid idea --stupid, stupid, stupid. What is the point?

And who is ungrateful now? Besides, you can ski all you want to, but the joke's on both of you. I don’t plan to leave the hotel room. Three days lying in bed watching television sounds like a great vacation to me. To hell with all that running around in the snow… you won’t catch me out there in this weather!

Your plan is to risk our lives so you can lie around in your boxers? Why come all the way out here and do that! That’s all you do at home anyway.

A great, wide, and seemingly lifeless oak tree, its bark split and knotty, exhibiting the wear of over three hundred years of survival in the harsh climate, appeared to hop out of the woodland and take a position in the middle of Rick and Annie’s