Stories To Be Told

By Joseph Brenin

Five stories varying in interest from flyfishing to the Ouija Board; from the paranormal to aliens.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Jul 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781623093013

Book preview

9781623093013

The Campsite

It was on a Thursday around seven o’clock in the evening when the phone rang.

My wife was in the kitchen, and she picked up the phone.

Hello!

Hi! Linda. It’s Roger. How are you doing?

I’m doing pretty good. How are you doing?

I’m doing real good. Is Jim around?

Yes, hold on a second. Jimmy! Roger is on the phone!

Roger, Roger Wilkes, he’s a good fishing buddy of mine. Actually he’s the one who introduced me to fly fishing. The man’s an unbelievable fly fisherman. He would come into my hardware store, from time to time, to pick up the usual stuff to do some home repairs. When I first met him I was surprised that he could do that sort of work. He didn’t look like the type of guy who would want to get dirty. He was always so neat in his appearance. He looked like the brainy type, not mechanically inclined, but he’s actually very good at fixing things. Roger heads up an IT department for a big corporation. He was in my store one day talking to someone he knew about fishing. Then he asked me if I did any fishing, I use to, but not any more. There are too many fishermen, and not enough fish. Then he asked me if I’d ever been fly-fishing, and it wasn’t long before I was hooked on fishing again.

Hey, Roger what’s up.

I’ve got some great news. You know that I belong to several fly fishing organizations.

Yeah, I remember you saying something about that.

Well, there’s a group of fly fishermen that are members of ESEG, which is an acronym for the (Edward Shelley Environment Group). It’s part of a nature preserve created by Edward B. Shelley. Prior to his death he formed a trust fund to protect over six thousand acres of his own land, which is a site to see. It’s unbelievable, once you’re up there; you’ll never want to leave. Mr. Shelley was a great man. I’ll have to tell you his life story some time. Anyway, the reason I’m calling is to invite you on a fishing trip of a lifetime. Its four days of fishing up at the preserve. Fishing runs from May 1st to September 31st, which is twenty weeks. They space the fishing activity to one week of fishing, one week of no fishing, which allows only ten people per year to fish. There are twenty members in ESEG and every other year, half of us get to go fishing, and I can take someone along with me. There’s a really nice cabin up there, and all you have to do is bring enough stuff to live on, and that’s it. So what do you think?

It sounds great, Roger, but I’m not sure if I can get away from the store. When will you be going?

"We can only fish Monday through Friday. So I thought we would leave early Monday morning, and get back sometime Thursday evening. I need to be back here sometime Thursday, because of work.

This coming Monday!

Yeah, I know it’s not much notice, but I didn’t think I could get the time off this year. Things have been really crazy with my job. ESEG is very strict with their rules. It’s necessary, because if they start making an exception for one person then everyone is going to want to change things, and that would destroy the whole thing.

Well, Roger, let me talk it over with my wife, and I’ll get back to you.

Okay Jimmy, hope you can make it.

Yeah me too, it sounds like a great trip. Talk to you later, man.

Okay, Jim.

So what did Roger want? said my wife as she was coming into the living room. Let me guess. He wants you to go fishing.

My wife knows when Roger calls it’s always about fishing.

Yeah, he called about going on a fishing trip, but I don’t think I can go.

I repeated the details of the trip to my wife, as Roger had told them to me.

You know your forty- forth birthday is coming up in a couple of weeks. I think you should go. I wasn’t sure what to get you, so we’ll make this trip your birthday present.

My wife loves to remind me how old I am, because she’s only thirty-nine, but that will end next year, when we’re both in our forties.

What about the store?

My wife and I run Matthews Hardware. It’s a business we started fifteen years ago, and we’ve managed to eke out a pretty good living from it, but owning any business takes a lot of work, and long hours.

We have a shipment coming in tomorrow. If Larry (an employee at the store) and you can get that under control, I think we can handle things until you get back.

That’s true, but I don’t know.

Hey, I went to see my parents for two weeks last month. You could use a break too. So call Roger back, and tell him you’ll go.

Thanks honey.

I called Roger back, and we’re going fishing!

It was Sunday night, and I was packing up everything for the trip.

Don’t forget the camera, you’re gonna want to take pictures.

Oh yeah, the camera. Thanks, Babe.

Then the phone ran.

Hello!

Hi! Jim. It’s Roger. I’ve got some bad news. The entire computer network system at work just had a major crash, and I have to go in and get things back up and running.

Does that mean the trip is off?

No not exactly. I was thinking that you could head up there, and I would come up in a day or two. It shouldn’t take me any more than a day or so to get things corrected at work.

I don’t know. Are you sure it will be okay?

I’m sure it will. I’ll give you the directions to the place, and I’ll call Nick Henry, he’s the caretaker for the preserve. I’ll let him know about the situation. He will meet you there and get you settled in. There’s no sense in both of us losing out on a day or so of great fishing.

Okay, Roger I’ll meet you up there sometime Tuesday.

Yeah, I’ll see you Tuesday, and don’t forget to take your walking stick. The waters are running higher than usual up there.

I remember when I first went fly fishing with Roger. Roger is in his mid thirties, and is about five ten, a hundred and sixty pounds. He seemed healthy, but was carrying a walking stick. I thought he had a bad leg or something, and needed it to get around. I soon found out what the stick was for. We were walking up stream, when suddenly I lost my balance, and splat into the water I went. It was my first lesson in fly fishing. When you’re fly-fishing you walk up stream with chest waders on, and it doesn’t take much to lose your balance. You could step on a slippery rock, or the soft gravel you’re standing on gives way, and down you go. You can also use it for clearing a path to get to a less frequented fishing area.

I told my wife about the change in plans. I decided to leave later Monday morning, so I wouldn’t be travelling in the dark to a place I’ve never been before. I loaded up the car, kissed my wife goodbye, and headed up the road. The scenery was fantastic. The further north I went, the more remote the surroundings became. There were fewer towns, and longer stretches of nothing but wilderness. I could tell I was going up in elevation, because my ears always pop when I’m driving in mountainous terrain. According to Roger’s directions, the entrance to the preserve was easy to miss. There was just a plain dark brown painted sign with the words Edward B. Shelley Nature Preserve on it. And he was right; I just drove right by it. I turned around, and drove into the entrance. Even though the sun was shining, it was like some one threw a blanket over the area once I was in the preserve. The darkness came from the solid growth of trees.

To the right of the entrance was a dark brown cabin. Behind the building was a small barn with an attached corral. Out of the barn came Nick Henry. This guy was something to see. As he walked toward me I flashed back to a scene from the movie Tombstone with actor Kurt Russell, who played Marshal Wyatt Earp. He had the same chiseled looks, with the same deliberate and self-assuring manner. The dark hair, mustache, and a set of deep blue eyes matched the look, plus a pistol hanging from his side. Only he wasn’t dressed in black like the character in the movie. He was wearing blue jeans, a flannel shirt, and a tan vest that a hiker might wear. He looked like a character plucked out of the old west, and placed here in the modern world.

Hi, you must be Jim Matthews.

Yes, and you must be Nick Henry. This is an unbelievable place.

Yeah, it is. Come on up to the office. Would you like a cup of coffee?

Sure, if you have some already made.

His office was nothing fancy. It had dark wood paneling on the walls. To the right sat a desk in the back corner. Behind the desk was some electronic equipment. A CB unit, and some kind of two-way communication device, similar to what a park ranger might use. On the opposite wall was a huge map of the preserve, and the surrounding area. The wall to the left of the entrance was a picture of Edward B. Shelley. It was a portrait of a man in his later years. His hair was white and thinning. His face had the lines and creases that everyone eventually gets, when you reach a certain age. With most people there’s usually one facial feature that stands out, more than all the others. His feature was his eyes. He was a distinguished looking man, with expressive looking blue eyes. His eyes are what revealed the true depth of the man. A gun cabinet with a shotgun, and a couple of rifles was at the far corner. Between the portrait and the gun cabinet, was a door that led into another room. Against the back wall was a small bed. On the opposite wall were a couple of white kitchen cabinets, with a countertop big enough to hold a microwave and coffee maker, but not much more. At the far end of the kitchen counter top was a small refrigerator.

Do you take sugar?

Um, no black is fine, thank you.

Well, Jim this is the preserve, over six thousand acres of mostly mountainous terrain. Looking at the map. "The cabin, or as we like to call it, the campsite, is right there. It’s about two miles down from