The House In Banes Meadow: Ray Corngrow Saga, #2

By Jessie Cox

Ray Corngrower Saga Book 2. According to both Cherokee and Creek legend U tuin ta’ also known as Spear Finger was a blood sucking liver eating monster killed ages ago. However. A series of strange murders in the area of Bristow, Oklahoma indicate she has returned. Deputy Ray Corngrower and John Littlefeather are joined by many in hopes of stopping this terror once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jessie Cox
• Release date: Dec 12, 2016
• ISBN: 9781540126283

Jessie Cox

Jessie Cox, born: 1948. Raised on Creek land by his grandmother. A citizen of the Muscogee (Creek) Nation. Ex law enforcement, Chief Engineer's License..Steam Plants, spent several years as a gold prospector, a freelance writer/columnist, and lived/worked in Alaska. Thus far there are seven books in the Ray Corngrower series. "The Infant Carrier", "The House in Banes Meadow", "Cheechako", "The Good Red Road", "The Skinwalker, a John Littlefeather novel" "The Manitou" and "Where the Wind Whispers My Name" are available in both paperback and ebook. These books are based on actual Native American legend and sprinkled liberally with laughter,tears and a writers imagination. Life experience also plays a large part. I find the saying that 'you can't write about what you do not know" to be a truism. In closing, I'd like to thank my friends and the constant readers for their valuable input on my tales. My eighth novel "The Spencer Rifle"  "Book one of the Trail of Blood on Ice trilogy" is set in the period of just before and during the US Civil War, but is written in the Cherokee and Creek point of view. "Round Mountain" is the second book and covers the end of the Civil War and a few years following. "Washita" is the final book in the saga and is set in the years after the second book. I think the historical fiction fan will enjoy these novels. Look for "Moon Dancer" to be on the market soon. Taken from the short story of the same title, it is Book one of the "Sons of Creek" series.  Amos Corngrower (Ray's son) and Tim Littlefeather (John's son) are the main characters in this series Following in their fathers footsteps against the monsters of Native American legend. To the Cheechakos (the new comers, In Alaska Inuit) I'll say "Hersce". (Creek for hello) JC

Book preview

Legend of U'tiun'ta' (Spearfinger)

U'tiun'ta' (Spearfinger) is still spoke of in whispers late at night by the Elders and story tellers of both the Cherokee and Creek Nations.

The story tells of a Shaman that lived so many seasons ago that her name is lost to time.

She lived in a swamp in the lost homeland of what is now Georgia and her dark power was great, but as powerful as she was, she wanted more. She prayed to the Great Mystery, the Creator, that she be immortal and that no weapon would hurt her. As all things both good and evil are of Creator, her prayer was answered. However, as all things are imperfect except Creator, she was cursed to drink the fresh heart blood and eat the liver of her victims in order to survive and though her skin would repel any arrow, knife or tomahawk, her open eye was to be her vulnerable spot.

U'tiun'ta' wore the disguise of a harmless old woman. Her cracked and dried voice would beseech the People to allow her to braid their hair or for children to come and nap with their heads on her lap. When their guards were down, she would thrust her spear shaped hardened fore finger into their chests to pierce their hearts that she might drink of the fresh heart blood, before turning their bodies over to tear the liver from their backs to devour later.

Many were the brave warriors that sought her lair guarded by the snakes, alligators and quicksand of the swamp. Those who manage to find her soon discovered that her armored skin was invincible to their weapons.

U'tiun'ta' thought her vulnerability was safe. A secret known only to her and Creator, but Grandfather Eagle had been perched in a tree not far away, when Creator granted her gift. His keen eyes saw all that had happened.

With the young women and children of both tribes being killed and no single warrior being able to stop it, a great council between the two tribes was held to determine what could be done. After much discussion by the Council of Beloved Women and the Council of Beloved Men of each tribe, three of the bravest warriors from each tribe were selected to put an end to Spearfinger, but how can we kill what can't be killed? was the question.

Grandfather Eagle attended the council and when the question was asked, Where would be this monster's weakness? He screamed, Ayeee and took wing, just as he does today to remind us of this story. A plan was made that the finest bowman in the tribe would shoot U'tiun'ta' in her open eye, while the other five warriors distracted her.

Six warriors who would willingly sacrifice their lives for the good of the People, as is the way of the warrior spirit, went into the swamp. Once her lair was found, one tied off the other four and marched them into her camp, shouting U'tiun'ta'! I have brought you a peace offering that you may spare our women and children! The bowman hid in a nearby bush, his arrow notched and ready.

U'tiun'ta' rushed from her cave laughing. I seek no peace with your tribes. I will take not only your offering, but you, as well, for my feast this night!

One of the tied warriors threw himself at her to give the others time to get loose. Armed with knives that had been hidden in their breechcloths, they surrounded her, though they knew their knives would do no good and hers was the strength of ten strong men.

U'tiun'ta' threw back her head and laughed at such foolish bravery, her eyes and mouth wide open. It was just as she lowered her head to face her attackers, an arrow flew straight and true to its mark.

Her body thrown into quicksand, U 'tuin ta' was no more. Or was she? Some say that she still live in the swamps of Georgia and preys on unwary fishermen and hunters.

Chapter 1

Sergeant Ray Corngrower idled the patrol car - with its lights off - along the moonlit gravel road that was the county line. Night birds and frogs fell silent at his approach, but resumed their gossip and songs of enticement as soon as the car passed. Easing around a curve, he saw a bright red Mustang parked on the shoulder. Gliding to a halt, Ray put the car in park and quietly opened the door. Getting out and closing the door until the dome light went out, he walked up to the foggy rear window of the car. Peeking into the back seat from the side window, he saw Junior Sikes enjoyably busy with his date.

Ray quietly returned to his car and idled up, unnoticed, to within a foot of the Mustang's bumper. Switching his lights on and flicking on the red and blues on the overhead, he flipped the switch for the siren. Ray chuckled at the mad scramble going on in the backseat he could see through the steamed rear window.

Once the activity in the car had stopped, Ray turned off the overheads and siren. He lightly honked as he went around the car and continued his search for other prey.

The night wore on. The police radio was silent, and Ray's thoughts returned to Jan. He had asked the Creator countless times why she was given to him only to be taken so quickly. He could still feel the touch of her caress and could smell the scent of her perfume.

Stop! he told himself, when his memories reached the part about her death in the explosion. Put it away and concentrate on your job.

The night wore on. In order to keep himself awake, he drank cup after cup of the now cold, strong black coffee that he had gotten at a convenience store.

As he came upon the old tree-lined driveway that led to the abandoned house in Banes Meadow, he noticed fresh tire tracks that turned into the muddy drive. Knowing the meadow was a favorite place of car thieves to strip parts from the cars they had stolen, Ray blocked the road with the cruiser. He called in his twenty, giving his location before proceeding down the drive on foot. If it was car thieves, he'd return to the cruiser and request backup, but if it was kids making out, he would put a scare into them and let them go.

His six foot frame made no sound as he walked, making sure not to splash in the puddles. His eyes and ears were alert, in case a lookout had been posted. The night was silent. Too silent, but he caught the faint stink of cigarette on the night air. Circling soundlessly through the brush that had long ago lined a fence row, Ray saw a glowing ember in a stand of trees. The faint sound of music came from there as well. Lining himself so his approach was with the tree between him and the person under it, Ray walked quietly to the tree and peeked around.

Seated on the ground with his back to the tree, a teenager stubbed out his smoke and continued to play the air guitar. Ray could clearly hear the music that boomed from the headphones that covered his ears. Reaching around the tree, Ray clamped a hand over the teen's mouth. The young man jumped in fright, but quickly settled down, when Ray removed the headphones and whispered, Sheriff's Department! Come with me, but make no noise.

In the glare of the truck headlights, Earl was removing the passenger side bucket seat from the 1968 customized Dodge Charger, when he paused for still another glance at the three story derelict house that seemed to stare at him from across the meadow. Was that a shadow moving in the window or just a piece of tattered curtain waving in the breeze? He wasn't sure that he wanted to know.

I don't like this, he said to Luke, who was trying to get past the locking lug nut, that held the mag wheel in place.

Don't like what? Luke asked. Then, glancing up, saw what Earl was looking at.

What? That old house? Luke continued. It ain't nuthin'. Just some old place that was deserted during the Dustbowl. I was inside it a few times, when I was a kid looking for treasures.

I don't know, Earl replied, standing upright to stretch his back. I get an odd feeling that it's watching us and waiting for something to happen.

Then don't look at it, Luke said, turning back to his work. If you hurry up with the seats and the radio, we'll be out of here in no time.

Ray seated his prisoner in the back seat of the cruiser after patting him down. Getting into the front, he called for backup and turned to the young man.

"What's your name, bud? Ray asked, taking out his pen and clipboard.

The teenager took a moment to decide if he was going to talk or not. Then, getting a better look at this mean looking Deputy, decided that it might go easier on him if he did and said, Tim Halloway.

Ray wrote the name on a clipboard. How many people are stripping the car and what are their names? he asked, pausing to look at the sandy haired, unshaven young man in the back.

Just two, Tim replied, his voice desperate. "Luke Barrens and his brother Earl. I tell you, man. I had nuthin' to do with stealing no car! They offered me twenty bucks to lay