Dalton Hill

By Kevin Fuss

Dalton Hill is a strange town where all manner of weirdness occurs. Just ask Lincoln Phillips. The high school sophomore is used to the bizarre, but he hasn't seen anything yet.

When his best friend Eric drags him for a professional tarot card reading, Lincoln's life takes an unexpected twist.

Daydreams, expectations, a prophecy foretold, an evil force, a frightening Irish geometry teacher, a mysterious observer in a gray suit, and the most beautiful red headed girl he has ever seen make life in Dalton Hill for Lincoln a challenge.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 17, 2010
• ISBN: 9781452079998

Kevin Fuss

Author of Pete and Devin, Kevin Fuss has an affinity for this topic being a proud comic book geek himself.  A conversation on Facebook led to Fuss and three of his high school friends forming a company called EYG, which stands for Embrace Your Geekness.  Fuss wondered what he could do to contribute to the company, and the idea of the Brothers Geek was born. Come visit www.embraceyourgeekness.com.

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© 2010 Kevin Fuss. All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

First published by AuthorHouse 12/14/2010

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7997-4 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7998-1 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4520-7999-8 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2010917924

Printed in the United States of America

This book is printed on acid-free paper.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any Web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Table of Contents

Acknowledgements

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About the Author

Acknowledgements

I would like to thank David Rilen for teaching the Fiction Writing class at the University of Iowa. I enjoyed his class, and he was helpful to me, answering questions I had on tense, and he was very supportive of Dalton Hill. Would this story have survived 20 years if he hadn’t been as positive as he was? Who knows. It certainly wouldn’t exist if the class hadn’t needed extra stories. (You can read the full story about Dalton Hill’s origin at the end of the book)

Thanks to my friend Darin, who told me the story about one of his college professors claiming to know for a fact that Jim Morrison of the Doors fame had faked his death and was working in the US at a gas station.

Thanks to my friends, Kate and Tania, who worked as my teacher’s associates when I worked at Hillcrest School. It was the worst year of my life, but I know now, after going through that horrible experience, that I could do anything. They helped me get through… so thanks.

And Mom and Dad. All the support you’ve given me over the years… it can’t be measured. Thanks for everything.

1

"Hello… and welcome. Are you prepared for me to guide you on the journey through this strange town? Good, but first, please sit back and relax, says the man as he straightens his black, silk tie. He is dressed in a sharp, expensive gray suit. He enjoys dressing this way. He directs his guest to take a seat. Join me in some tea? No, really, … we have plenty of time. If it is one thing that we have an abundance of, here in Dalton Hill, it is time. Oh — why are you so anxious? Relax. There is nothing out there that won’t be there when we … get around to it. Hm? Fine, if you are so impatient, why don’t I begin by giving you the setting? Dalton Hill is a wonderfully small town where everyone knows one another … and yet, no one knows one another. It’s really quite charming that way… if you’re into that sort of thing. We are going to be following a young lad by the name of Lincoln Phillips. Yes, I know you know all of this, but I really enjoy…recapping. Young Lincoln is a sophomore at Dalton Hill High. Are you ready? Yes, of course you are. Let me find my remote… oh, here it is. Now, may I direct you to the screen ahead of you…be prepared for what lies ahead."

CLICK

Pssssst, Linc,

What, I say. My best friend Eric has a habit of whispering to me at the most inopportune times. For example, here we are taking a major geometry test in Old Man Burns’s class, and he’s whispering to me.

We’re still on for tonight, right? he questions.

Yeah … now shut up before Burns hears, I reply.

Sometimes I just don’t know about Eric. He’s so weird, but, then again, everyone here is weird. Look at Old Man Burns sitting at his desk flipping through the newest National Geographic. Who’d ever guess that he does what he does. Not that he knows that I know. When I took that dare to follow him to his home so I could T.P. it, I never thought I’d find what I found.

Ten minutes left, class, Burns says, looking across the room – directly at me. Mr. Burns returns to his magazine. Man, I wonder what he would say if he knew that I was peeking in his window that night? I can’t believe what I saw. There was a fire built in the middle of his living room floor contained by a circle of stones. Fire in the middle of his floor? Weird, huh? Burns entered the room and sat beside the fire. He was wearing a long, black, hooded robe. He removed his watch and rings and laid them beside him. He closed his eyes and, with his mouth slightly open, he began breathing heavily and in rhythm. After a few minutes, he began to shake … but as suddenly as he began, he stopped – and he seemed at peace. It was all too bizarre for…

Time’s up. Pencils down and everyone turn over your papers, Burns says.

Shoot, I say to myself as I look down at my half-finished test paper. That’s what I get for daydreaming my way through a geometry test. At least this is my last class of the day. I hand in my test and start to leave. I swear I could feel Old Man Burns’s glare burning into my back. I head straight for my locker hoping to get the heck out of this place.

Hey, hold up Linc, yells Eric, running up to me. That was an easy test, wasn’t it?

I look at my friend’s smiling face. I don’t want to talk about it.

Okay? Anyway, I can’t wait for tonight. It’s gonna be great having our readings done by a pro!

I don’t know how I let Eric talk me into this. Eric is deeply fascinated in mystical mumbo-jumbo. He loves it. He owns a set of tarot cards, and he even bought the entire series of Time-Life books on Ebay. Now, he has discovered a woman here in Dalton Hill who does tarot card readings, and he wouldn’t stop harping on me until I agreed to go with him.

Yeah, I say, it’ll be … great. Meet me at Tyler’s Bluff at seven.

Great… says Eric, pausing and looking around the hallway. Hey Linc,

What?

I have the strangest feeling that we’re being watched. Do you feel that?

I’ll see you tonight, alright? I say with a slight laugh and a shake of my head. Me and my weird friends. Why are they drawn to me?

CLICK

I would like to pause here for a moment. What? Oh, don’t worry. Eric Fisk probably has that feeling because of his interest in the mystical arts. He’d never be able to … discover us. Interesting beginning, yes? Lincoln and Eric are about to discover that the future is better left to the imagination.

CLICK

I arrive at Tyler’s Bluff early. The river running through the area is quiet tonight. The clouds are covering the moon… just enough light is sneaking through to make it eerie. I wish Eric would get here. There is a slight breeze blowing the leaves from the trees and across the ground. I wish Eric would get here. I remember the story of Tyler’s Bluff. It is said that a Revolutionary War soldier, on a reconnaissance mission, came across a group of British generals planning a midnight raid on his troop. As he prepared to return and warn his comrades, the British stumbled upon him and executed him on the spot as a Colonial spy. They later raided the colonist’s camp with completely fatal results. It is said now that the ghost of the soldier returns to walk the grounds of his death for all time. That happened even before the town was founded. Man, it really is creepy. I wish Eric…

Boo!

Yeeaaaaarrgh!!! I spin around after my scream to see Eric with his face flushed and laughing hysterically. He falls to the ground and rolls around on his back in the dirt. Jerk.

You should have — ha ha ha – seen your – hee hee – face.

I’m leaving.

No Linc, don’t, Eric says still snickering. I’m sorry. Don’t leave. You were thinking about Sgt. Tyler, weren’t you?

Yeah.

Come on, says Eric, let’s go. I want to get to Madame Olgar’s.

We begin to leave when I spot something out of the corner of my eye.

What’s that?

What’s what? Eric responds.

I could have sworn I saw something over there. It looked like a … I begin, but stop before I actually say it. If I didn’t put it into words, then it won’t be true. Denial like that is a godsend here in Dalton Hill.

Let’s just go, Eric says.

I guess it is just the wind, but I swear that I can hear a low and very sad moaning as we leave Tyler’s Bluff.

Before heading to the fortune teller, Eric needs to stop to see his Dad. Eric’s father is named Travis Fisk, and he is a doctor at the Dalton Hill Medical Clinic. At one time, Dr. Fisk was one of the country’s leading neurosurgeons, but he gave that up and opened a small, personalized clinic. Dr. Fisk is dedicated to providing the best health care to everyone, regardless of their ability to pay. He swore that the Dalton Hill Medical Clinic would be a positive place for people to go when they were sick.

Eric’s mother, Nicole, works with his father at the clinic as a nurse. You would think that they would be tired of spending all day, every day together, but they always look happy.

We walk through the double glass doors, and Eric’s father was sitting behind the front desk. This was the slowest I’d ever seen this place. Typically, there were lines of people waiting to see Dr. Fisk.

Hey Dad, says Eric.

Good evening, Eric. Hello Lincoln. What are you gentlemen up to this evening? says Dr. Fisk, putting down the chart he is reviewing.

Can I get my allowance, Dad? Eric asks. Eric earns every penny his parents pay him. With his father and mother always busy with the clinic, Eric has tons of responsibilities at home, especially with four younger siblings to wrangle.

Sure, says Dr. Fisk. What’s so important that you need it right now?

Eric’s talked me into going to see some psychic tonight… tarot cards, I say.

Dr. Fisk looks disapprovingly at Eric.

You’re going to see a psychic for a tarot card reading? That’s a waste of money, son. There is no such thing as psychics, and tarot cards can’t predict the future, he says.

Eric and his father haven’t seen eye to eye for years. Travis Fisk is a man of science, and he sees Eric’s fascination in the magical and mystical parts of the world as a slap in his face. Dr. Fisk believes there is a scientific explanation for everything, and, of course, Eric believes in everything. You haven’t lived until you’ve heard Eric and his dad arguing about the chupacabra.

Can I just have my allowance, Dad? says Eric.

Dr. Fisk pauses a moment before nodding and reaching into his wallet. Here son. Don’t spend it all in one place.

Thanks, Dad, Eric says, ignoring his father’s disapproval. See you later.

I follow Eric out of the clinic, trying to keep up with him.

About fifteen minutes later, we arrive at the trailer of Madame Olgar. A neon sign flashes the words Olgar – Fortunes above the broken down trailer. The neon sign and the partial moonlight mix to create a strange haze around the trailer.

Linc, Eric says. He hadn’t spoken to me since we left the clinic. Why did you tell Dad that we were coming here?

I just answered his question, I say.

Are you sure? Or were you trying to sabotage this evening? Why would you tell Dad about Madame Olgar? You know how he feels about stuff like this?

I didn’t think… I’m sorry, I say. I wonder if, subconsciously, I did try to prevent having to do this by telling Dr. Fisk. I know I’m not looking forward to it.

Because if you don’t want to do this, Eric says, sounding hurt.

No…no. I told you I’d come… and I’m here. Let’s go in, I say. I guess I can do this for Eric. He is my best friend. I’m sure this will be harmless.

Eric smiles and knocks on the door, stepping back. We hear a deep, female voice call for us