Blackberry Winter

By Tom Funderburg

Blackberry Winter is a 'Time Travel' story about Linnie, an eighteen year old who now lives solely with her father Zeke after the untimely loss of Linnie's mom some years before. 

Presently, Linnie is finishing her senior year of high school and busily planning her life with the prospect of graduation only weeks away. On April first, however, it is April Fool's Day when Zeke receives notice of an unexpected inheritance in Virginia.  It happens to be from someone associated with Linnie's mother's side of the family. With curiosity abounding and hopes of discovering what this unexpected surprise is all about, Zeke and Linnie begin a trip to Woodhaven, VA.

  During the trip, howerver, and within a few miles of Woodhaven, they encounter an ever increasing snowstorm (a Blackberry Winter) which soon becomes thunder snow where the skies turn purple, the snow appears lavender and all things electrical are suddenly dead.  The car is stranded in near blizzard conditions, and Zeke, desperate to find help, begins walking toward Woodhaven in the snow and wind. Linnie is told to remain with the car where it is safest, but soon after her father disappears into a curtain of white, she hears bells. Enticed by the possibility of a rescuer, she leaves the car, crosses a timeline and wanders into 1923.

  Linnie is rescued, but taken to the Woodhaven of 1923 and lodged at the Owens Farm with sisters Veronica and Pearl.  Veronica is Linnie's great great grandmother, but neither know their relation. Veronica's beautiful daughter, Anne, who was alienated from Veronica over a dispute ten years ago, and Linnie, since she is secretly related to Anne, has physical appearance exactly the same as Anne when Anne was ten years younger.

  Everyone in Woodhaven immediately mistakes Linnie for Anne until they are told differently. Still the striking resemblence and the compulsion of regret causes them to bestow all their lost love of Anne upon Linnie. Although undeserving of what belongs to Anne, without a mother's love of her own and a deep yearning for that kind of love, how can Linnie reject this gift which is offered so freely.  Moreover, as time draws everyone closer, Linnie begins to genuinely love all her new acquaintances.

Then there is romantic love which develops when Will attempts to help her find her father.  This is the first time Linnie has truly fallen in love .If returning to own her time becomes a choice, part of that choice would be the tragic love affair for the hearts of both Will and Linnie.

From the first panic stricken moment when Linnie realizies she is in another time, her one obsession is to find someway back home. But home is where the heart is and as Linnie's story unfolds it becomes increasingly more difficult to decide her future. What if an opportunity of return to her father occurs? What decision will she have to make and how will that decision affect all the wonderful people, many of whom are ancestral family?  How will those hearts which she has grown to love so dearly, how will that fare with her ultimate decision?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tom Funderburg
• Release date: Mar 19, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393115908

Book preview

Chapter 1

W ait just a second , Kara. There’s someone at the front door ringing the doorbell. Pressing the phone against her body, Linnie hurried to the front door and peered through the peephole. A FedEx man was standing on the other side, holding both a signature device and one of those flat cardboard document-containers. Pulling the door open only as wide as necessary, Linnie waited expectantly while the impatient delivery person put on his standard smile for saying, signature required as he simultaneously thrust the pen and electronic device into Linnie's reach. Waiting with toe tapping reserve, the man's tension to escape with Linnie's signature and his device caused her to bobble the fake pen. Alarmed at the possibility she might also drop the phone, she placed her cell between elbow and body before retrieving the pointed stick and deftly signing in the rectangular outlined box. With nary a thank you, he snatched his well-used sig device with one hand and in exchange pushed the delivery through the opening and into Linnie’s waiting hand. Linnie watched in amazement as he shot from the door, hop skipping to his truck in an urgent get away.

Linnie replaced the phone to her ear and with inquiry said, You still there, Kara?

While Kara talked, Linnie backed through the doorway and pressed the door closed with her hip and backside. As she listened to Kara's voice, Linnie's eyes searched the address label for a name. It's only a FedEx delivery, Linnie explained to Kara while speaking into the phone, but it is addressed to my dad, Ezra Bishop — using his real name. That’s odd, isn’t it? Everyone we know calls Dad Zeke. I wonder if it is important since they are using his formal name. Maybe I should end our call and talk to you later.

Dad! Linnie exclaimed, blasting out her voice into the open air. It's a FedEx for you.

I had to sign for it, Linnie added in a calmer, more conversational tone as her dad approached and then extended his hand to take charge of the delivery.

Zeke nodded perfunctorily in the direction of his daughter and tore open the perforated zip line. The document slipped out easily from the container. Pausing to acknowledge his thanks to Linnie before reading the paper, he discovered that Linnie had already disappeared into some other recess within their home. With a sigh of resignation, Zeke proceeded away from the entrance and toward the room which he called his study. It looked as though it was something legal, he pondered as he entered through the doorway of the study. Not wanting to read something distasteful standing up, he laid the papers on his desktop, turned on a desk lamp, and pulled up his comfortable swivel chair for seating.

The letter head read, 'The Law Offices of Lawton, Livingston and Dunn.' Quickly scanning the document to see what the meat of the matter was, what kind of mischief some lawyer was trying to pull over on him, he soon realized he was not being sued but was indeed being notified of an inheritance. An inheritance, he reflected and then speculated as he looked up from the letter and tried to think of who in his family could have died. No one came to mind.

It was a puzzle until it occurred to him how the name of the town might be a clue. What was it anyway, the name of that town mentioned in the letter? Searching again, the name was easily found again in the third paragraph — Mulberry Street, Woodhaven, Virginia.

Virrrrginia! he voiced to the room, adding emphasis to his confusion since there was no one else in the room to hear him speak. I don't know anyone in Virginia. What in the world is going on here? he thought. There must be some kind of mistak...

And then it hit him. This is not a mistake. This is April Fool's Day; isn't it? Fumbling around on his desk, he was searching for absolute proof that indeed today is April first. Once he had his calendar in his hand, he sat back and laughed. What a near miss this gag is turning out to be. It's probably Michael or Jeffrey. They're always trying to pull something over him. Probably both of them in on it together. They each have publication software which would easily generate an official looking letter of this sort.

An impish grin spread over Zeke's face as he imagined all his buddies sitting around a table, sipping beer and speculating with rolls of laughter. Especially Michael, he would be the one mouthing off the most and fanning the flames with the other guys of how far their joke would go before their old pal Zeke figured it out — how he had been had. But it will be those guys who will have 'had it,' Zeke thought, if this turns out to be any of their doings.

Returning his attention to what he now suspected to be a fake letter, it became simpler to read with all the ominous words of a real lawyer removed. The contents also had become interesting. Certainly there were clues in the body of the document, something which might give away the identity of whoever had done this to him. So reading each paragraph in turn became a pleasure. Yet after finishing the one page script, he was surprised at how it left him unsettled, not satisfied with seeing through the ruse like he expected when he first started reading. Something nagged at him. Perhaps this was not a fake. For one thing, the writing was good which was not a given with his kind of friends. And for another, there were at least a couple of words, which had been used in the text, that he was pretty convinced his friends would not even know existed, let alone used in a letter. He wasn't particularly a scholar himself, but he had a suspicion that he was a bit more of an avid reader than his friends.

With the letter still in hand, he began to reason so as not to make a mistake. Glancing at the letterhead for a second time, he noticed something else: the phone number. The area code would be easy enough to verify if it was a Virginia number. So he took up the challenge and looked it up on the internet. Indeed, it was a Virginia number.

It made him nervous that he might really call this number and risk being suckered into doing something stupid. Yet it didn't seem possible for the guys, those of which he knew, to pull off such an elaborate practical joke which involved using a real Virginia number. He could sleep on it and make a decision about it tomorrow morning. Or if he really wanted to put this gag to a rest, he could call the number right away. Either way, he never made good decisions while sitting down. He was the kind of person who needed to pace when a problem worried him.

As he stood up from his chair, he reached over to the desk lamp, with the good intention of turning it off, when he hesitated a moment more to review the description of the property in the fourth paragraph. It was a house built in 1917 on an acre of land and well within the center of the town. The description didn't state the city zoning of the land, whether or not there was commercial potential, or even at that, the condition of the house itself. It may in truth be a ramshackle of a building, suited only as an expensive tear down. Perhaps there is even a mandate from the city to do something about what is now his condemned property. There could potentially be all kinds of nightmares related to the owning of property.

Yet still, if the property was valuable, it would be a welcome windfall with Linnie a senior in high school this year and already making plans to go to college. Sure he had a college fund set up, but managing finances was just as tough on him as it was for everyone else. The more it seemed you saved each year, the more the cost of tuition, the cost of housing, the cost of food and the cost of you name it, everything else that goes up; they all together total more than what a person is able to save. It was like a dog chasing his tail. But those were problems best solved another day. Zeke twisted the knob on the lamp and the light went out in his study. He had made his decision. Picking up his cell phone and the letter, he punched in the number printed on the letter as he made his way into the lighted hallway.

Chapter 2

Good afternoon. This is the law offices of Lawton, Livingston and Dunn; How may I assist you?

And good afternoon to you as well. My name is Zeke Bishop and I have a document I received from an attorney, Patrick Lawton, stating I have inherited some property. Not to make light of serious matters, but I just wanted to make sure this document is legitimate. Some of my friends are of such a nature that I have to be extremely wary of anything that happens to me on April Fools day, and since I received this April first...

A short amused laugh was heard on the other end before a more serious response, Yes, Mr. Bishop and pardon me for the sympathetic laugh, but it was I, yours truly, who sent you that document. I am Gail Patterson, Mr. Lawton's legal secretary. I'm so sorry for not considering the implication of the date of receipt. I too have some untrustworthy friends, who are not above enjoying themselves at my expense, but they are also good friends who only pull harmless pranks. Woodhaven, I believe you will find, is a comfortable close knit community, full of good friends and good neighbors. I hope it turns out that your inheritance is something which will draw you and your family to us. But, of course, you will first need to speak to Mr. Lawton, and unfortunately, he is in court today. Would you like to leave a number for him to return your call?"

Yes, I would. And thank you, Ms. Patterson. With a few professional words, you have relieved my apprehensions. Thank you again. And as far as my family is concerned, it is only I and my eighteen year old daughter, Madeline, who prefers to be called Linnie. And I myself also have the nickname of Zeke to my friends. I understand, of course, the need for lawyers to use legal names in documents, but Zeke is the name for which I like to respond, not Ezra. If possible, Gail, would you suggest to Mr. Lawton how the name of Zeke happens to be more to my liking. It would be simpler for me if he used my preferred name of Zeke in our conversations.

Certainly, Zeke. I'm also sure Patrick Lawton would like for you to reciprocate and refer to him as Patrick. He doesn't like the short name of Pat, and any other nickname would involve using the word 'trick' which doesn't set well with Patrick, considering his profession. All his friends and most of his clients call him Patrick, and he is very comfortable with that.

Very good then. So let me give you my number for contact info. I happen to have some time off early this next week. if perhaps Patrick also has the same time open and would like to propose something like a sit down meeting, I'm positive he can clear up many of the questions I have about this inheritance. To be truthful, Gail, I am quite baffled with this bequest; it may be a mistake. I don't really know the person who died and left me her property. Her name sounds vaguely familiar, but outside of that, I have nothing.

Not to worry, Zeke. I assure you Patrick is very good at what he does. An appointment and a face to face meeting, however, will be necessary, and he may require some documents of identification. Other than that, it only remains to make certain anything in which you are entitled is transferred and remitted to you in a legally binding manner. Give me your number, and I'll get him to call you right away.

After the secretary finished taking his contact information, Zeke pressed the 'End Call' button on his cell and then weighed the legal document in his hand with new appreciation. Seems as though it is legitimate, he observed. But with that disclosure, it only added to the mystery. Zeke had been pacing up and down the hallway during his entire talk with Gail and now wondered where Linnie had gone to in the house.

Linnie's bedroom was only a few feet down the hallway. He could have simply walked there and knocked on her door. Yet with only Linnie in the house to exert a female influence, rules in Zeke's house were lax. Both Linnie and he were in the habit of calling out sharp and loud whenever they were trying to locate one another. Not the most civilized approach, but it worked for them.

Eliza, Linnie's mother, had passed away after contracting the flu and then developing pneumonia almost three years ago. Since that time, high standards of household civility had died with her. Truly the heart of their family disappeared when Eliza was no longer with them. If it hadn't been for Linnie's amazing inner strength to work through her grief and then find purpose for her life, Zeke would have been the first to admit to an imminent failure of parenting. Linnie had made him seem a competent dad despite the male attitude shortcomings of head of household rule making.

Linnie! Where are you?

In the kitchen, Dad.

There you are, Zeke said as he entered the kitchen. Linnie was cutting up an apple which had just been peeled. I haven't planned a meal for supper yet, but I am open to suggestions if you have any ideas. It's still too cold to grill hamburgers out on the patio.

Actually, Kara has asked me to go out for pizza, but I haven't made up my mind yet. My allowance is running pretty thin this month. I'm just going to have this apple for now and decide about food later on. If I go with Kara, what will you have? We do have that leftover meatloaf in the fridge which one of us will have to eat soon or put in the freezer. Just in case you forgot.

Oh yeah! We do need to finish the meatloaf. But that is not what I came in here to talk about. That FedEx was from a lawyer, and it seems as though someone has left us an inheritance.

Really! Well what is it?

Property, it seems. A house built in 1913 on an acre of land and situated in some place called Woodhaven, Virginia. The person leaving the property is Priscilla Price. Does that name ring any bells with you? For the life of me, I can't think of anyone in my family by that name. And how about your mother's family? She talked to you more than me about her family. You recall anyone who might explain this.

Not really, dad. I suppose I should have been listening closer when Mom was telling me things, but put on the spot like this, I'm afraid I'm no help. Except for the name of that town. Woodhaven did you say? Vaguely I remember something with haven in the name, and it was far off from here. It could have been some place on the East Coast. And now that I think of it more, it does seem like the geographic area was somewhere close to Washington DC. Isn't Virginia somewhere close to Washington, but don't go by me for information. I'm not certain about anything I'm saying here. I bet Aunt Libby would know. She's Mom's sister, and come to think of it, she may be inheriting a piece of this same property.

Yeah, Zeke said. It hadn't occurred to him that there may be multiple heirs. The letter didn't indicate anything like that, but what did he know about legal notifications. Why don't you give your Aunt Libby a call? See if she is aware of an inheritance, and even if not, see if she has any knowledge of a Priscilla Price or the town of Woodhaven.

Okay. I will. Besides, this will be a good excuse to talk to her again. She sent me a Christmas card last year, and I never got around to sending her a card in return. The least I can do is thank her for remembering me at Christmas.

Chapter 3

It was awkward, the wall of silence between Linnie and her dad during the first fifty or so miles of their road trip to Woodhaven, Virginia. Sure they shared a few necessary words to accommodate each other for the long journey by car, but they all resulted in dead ends to conversation.

Part of the problem was their everyday familiarity with each other and the brevity of interaction into which their routine had devolved. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. It was simply the way things had come to be with Linnie filling her time with friends, activities and study; and Dad, plodding ahead blindly, trying to fill the shoes of both father and mother to Linnie while continuing to make a success of his business. Most of the time, their daily interactions consisted of exchanging information about their upcoming schedules so that the other would know where they were and what they were doing.

The other and the bigger part of the problem, however, was that Mom wasn’t with them on their trip. Linnie was fourteen the last time they went on a long vacation car trip. Back then, Mom was sitting where Linnie was now seated and her absence was a poignant reminder of happier times. After grief had done its duty, both Linnie and Zeke had forged ahead by resuming their lives with the conscious effort of acceptance of what they cannot change. Mom remained a part of their occasional thoughts during their daily routines, but this trip was bringing memories of her into acute awareness. And even more so since this trip was commissioned solely for the purpose of discovering an inheritance from her mom’s side of the family.

Yet no matter the reasons for the silence between them, Linnie decided, it couldn’t continue if this trip did not become unendingly long. Remembering her fourteen year old self, she drew herself up with folded arms and put on a petulant sullen look of resignation like only a difficult young teen could do. Then, with juvenile flippancy she defiantly shouted out, Are we there, yet?

Zeke startled at the sudden exclamation and gave Linnie a stern look. Linnie remained with a sullen and resentful look but on the inside she was smiling at her guile to make connection with her dad. It was the only parental button she knew to push which would bridge the gap of where they were now and where they had been when Mom was still with them.

No Linnie, and I get you are bored already. You don't need to remind me of how you hate long trips. I don't like all this driving, either. Our navigation monitor, however, is set for Woodhaven which appears to be three hundred plus miles. A good trick is to glance at the dashboard display like i do to check our progress. And talking will make the trip seem shorter. Why don't you choose a subject, or how about telling me everything your Aunt Libby said when last you two talked together? It will get your mind off riding and put an end to boredom.

Linnie was relieved that she had her father’s attention as her dad again. There was much which she needed him to know about her feelings and emotions and this was the opportunity to do it.

"I suppose I could. I've shared most of it with you already. Although, it may be helpful, to me at least, if you will act as my sounding board while I clarify my thoughts and sort out facts. And Dad! I don't want this to sound like an accusation, because it isn't, but I miss Mom. Talking to Aunt Libby over the phone, well you know how much their voices sound alike, and the funny way they have of describing things, the odd catchphrases they use, the familiarity of her speech; it caught me off guard. And don't look at me like that, Dad. I told you, this is not an accusation, and it isn't. You've been a wonderful father, but it is strange how this inheritance suddenly came up during my last year in high school, and it involves Mom's family.

"Lately, I've been thinking of how it will be when I graduate next month. How I will no longer be living with my family when I start the next phase of my life. Mom always taught me to live my life without regret, to move past disappointments and make positive things out of my life. And Dad, after completing that miserable time of grief, I tried to live up to Mom's aspirations for me, move on by keeping busy with no time to be distracted by regrets. And I think my plan of action is working. Moreover, I also believe I have done the right thing. Yet when I was speaking with Aunt Libby, she unintentionally brought up remembrances of Mom simply by the way she talked. After we had ended our telephone connection, I began to realize all the pieces of me which were missing, all the things I would someday ask Mom and never did. And then with graduation drawing near, I feared, irrationally as it may be, that all those missing things would not only be missing but lost; once I ventured out to start my own life.

I don't mean to unload all my baggage on you, Dad, but I think you need to be warned that whatever we might find in Woodhaven, as it relates to Mom, it may be more important to me as a person than the monetary value of what we uncover.

And I think you need to be warned, Linnie, that I never ever heard your mother speak the word Woodhaven, or for that matter, anything connected to the east coast. I don't know for sure, but I suspect that if your mother was alive right now today, she would be just as baffled by this inheritance as we are. Did Libby say something to lead you to think there is a close family connection to Woodhaven?

"No. Not exactly. I know Aunt Libby was flabbergasted with an unexpected inheritance. She clearly thought this was a gift that fell out of the blue sky, but I am not at all sure she was as clueless about Woodhaven as Mom would have been. All of Aunt Libby's answers, as a response to the questions I had asked about Woodhaven, came exclusively from an old letter which she had obtained. It was written by Mom's maternal grandfather, Tad, but never mailed. He must have been quite young when the letter was written. Aunt Libby only discovered it as part of a musty old collection from an estate, which happened to be an estate passed down from Libby's uncle Max. This was after Mom had passed away so she would not have known about the letter. But I get your point