The Deerfield Finger

By Ken McCulloch

Meet Perry Melstone... an aging single gentleman in his 80s retired on the Oregon Coast. As he makes his way to Montana for a medical check-up he discovers the joys of modern hospital visits. As a diversion he goes to the small town he grew up in to find several people killed by a strange growing wire coming from nowhere. It begins to seal the town off from the rest of the world. He escapes via Yellowstone Park and heads for Bozeman where one of his sons lives. While there he gained a new admiration for his boys.

As he goes back to his home in Oregon he finds he must deal with other problems including his dog, his neighbors, unusual weather and his boys. He also finds out the shocking truth of the strange wires in his hometown. He remains independent to the end, causing surprise to those around him.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Aug 12, 2020
• ISBN: 9781098321314

Book preview

The Deerfield Finger

© 2020 by Ken McCulloch

All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Print ISBN: 978-1-09832-130-7

eBook ISBN: 978-1-09832-131-4

Contents

Preparation

Billings

The Check-Up

Deerfield

Pennington

Beartooth Highway and Yellowstone

The Biopsy

Livingston

Bozeman

Sunday

The Road Home

Home

Musings

The Diary

The Storm

Contact With the World

Monday

Coos Bay

Eugene

The Day With Trudi

Black Sunday

Gold Beach

Options

Thursday

Good Byes

Preparation

The seals below in the little secluded bay were my own private morning bugle call. They were yawping like dogs as the sun began to bathe them in warm rays. My collie, Doodie, helped my awakening with a sloppy good morning kiss. I slowly stirred out of bed.

O.K. Let’s go outside boy! I opened the back door and he dutifully ran out. I noticed Mrs. Lavine was out sweeping her porch already. She was one of about eight other homeowners in our little subdivision on the rural hillside known as the Jebel Hills. It was slightly more barren than the other nearby hills having been logged years ago. It was a nice area but the hill blocked our view of the higher mountains behind us.

Doodie ran to Mrs. Lavine to obtain an obligatory cookie which she gave him on a regular basis. I waved to her but didn’t go out since I was still in my pajamas. I trod to the front room and opened the drapes with some hesitation as the last few mornings had been quite foggy on the Oregon coast. Not today! The sun lit up a gorgeous blue sky with a glistening ocean before me. Two small fishing trawlers were already out making their mark on the calm sea.

Hmm I thought. The cod or salmon must not be hungry today. The boats don’t usually come this far north this early. Maybe the minnows are not as thick down south.

Doodie ran in and nudged my ankle. So, you got a treat today you spoiled dog.

I quickly poured him some breakfast crunchies and boiled myself a couple of eggs.

I sat down to enjoy the simple repast when the phone rang.

Hello, I answered.

Mr. Melstone?

Yes.

This is the sheriff’s office in Deerfield. We have an envelope of stuff that we think belongs to you.

How’s that? I asked.

We have an unusual situation here in Deerfield. Something is causing a wire mesh to form and grow in various buildings around town. We salvaged a bunch of stuff from a house on Pine Street and this envelope was apparently pushed out from behind a bookcase.

What was the address? I asked.

212 Pine.

Oh my gosh! I gasped. That’s my childhood home. I haven’t lived there for 65 years. That would have to be very old stuff. How did you know how to reach me?

Someone in the office recognized your name and knew you were in Oregon. We were able to trace the number. The stuff is pretty tattered although there are a couple of official-looking envelopes. Do you want us to just toss it?

I thought for a moment. This is kind of amazing but I have to fly to Billings tomorrow for a checkup. I’ll drive on over to Deerfield when I’m finished and pick it up. Will that work?

Sure will. We’ll hold it for you.

I need an excuse to come over there anyway. Are you still in the old stone building on Main? I asked.

Still here. We’ll see you in a few days.

Great. Thanks! Bye.

I hung up with an awed sense of amazement. I had read a little about the strange events in Deerfield on the Internet. I found it so rare to have a news item from my little hometown on any kind of national press. Apparently they had turned the old clinic where I was born into retirement apartments. An old lady and her parakeet had been killed by this eerie growing thick wire suddenly appearing in the apartment.

I quickly finished my breakfast. Doodie, of course, had finished before I could hang up the phone.

I need to take you to the boarders today Boy. I hope you’ll be OK., I said, with his sad eyes sizing me up. Listen, don’t make me feel guilty about doing this. I have to go for my checkup.

I put away the dishes, grabbed a leash and some dog food and headed for the car. Doodie seemed to sense something was awry. He just sat on the porch and stared at me.

C’mon Doodie. Get in.

He reluctantly walked to the car and jumped in. He had been a wonderful companion for me. I adopted him as a rescue pet when he was four years old. He was now thirteen and seemingly as healthy as ever although we couldn’t jog on the beach like we used to. I often sat for hours with him on the front porch as we watched the ocean and I chatted away about various world problems. He liked having my arm around him. In fact, if my arm wasn’t wrapped around him he’d duck under it until it was.

As I started the car I noticed that Trudi Lavine was still looking busy outside her place. I drove down the dirt lane toward her. I rolled down my window. She came up to the car with her usual inquisitive expression.

Trudi, I am flying to Montana tomorrow for a checkup. I’ll be gone about five days. I’m taking Doodie into Coos Bay and boarding him now since I’ll have to get up around 4 a.m. Would you watch the place for me?

I’ll do more than that, replied Trudi. You leave Doodie with me. I’ll be glad to watch him for you.

Really? That would be wonderful. It would save me a trip and I know he loves you and would be safe and comfortable.

No problem. I’d love to care for him. Do you want to leave him now? she asked.

Why don’t I bring him by tonight with his leash and food? That’ll give us a few more hours together.

Great. I’ll see you then. Uh... is your checkup serious? (I almost was an afterthought).

I had a surgical procedure in my 50s when I was living in Montana and I have it checked every three years in Billings. I’ve had a few minor complications over the years but I think I’ll live. I’m planning a few side trips while I’m there but I hope to be back in five days.

O.K. Well you take it easy and don’t worry about Doodie. He’ll be fine, she said assuringly.

I know he will, I replied. I’ll bring him over later this afternoon. Thanks so much!

I backed up the car and turned back toward the house. That was so nice of her, I said to Doodie, scratching him behind the ear. Trudi was a nice lady. Her husband had a little dementia and couldn’t do many of the activities she enjoyed. She certainly had her idiosyncrasies. She was a fanatic for playing Ouija Boards and had in the past invited me over to participate when she needed a fourth person. It certainly wasn’t my thing but I went over a few times. She finally quit asking me after I embarrassed her by moving the marker with uncanny answers that hit too close to home (ex-boyfriends and such). It was eerie for me how accurate answers and names were formed that were true to her life.

I parked the car and went inside. Doodie was a little confused with the change of plans but went along with them with a wag of his tail. I got out a small suitcase. I won’t need much for five days, I thought. Doodie took a sudden interest realizing I could be leaving him. It’ll be o.k. boy. You’ll be well taken care of.

Later in the day I was able to take a nap and fix a light sandwich supper. I took Doodie over Trudi’s house and thanked her again. I was relieved when Doodie covered her with kisses. He’ll be fine, she reassured me.

I went to bed early and after a restless night got up at 4:00 a.m. I needed to be at the Eugene airport by 7:30 and the two-hour drive in the early morning light would be a challenge for these eighty-one-year-old eyes. I hopped in the car by 5:00, waved to still sleeping Trudi and Doodie as I drove by, and began working my way down the highway that seemed to zig and zag confusingly through the forested hills. I cranked up the radio and surprisingly made it to the airport by 7:20. I parked my car in the economy lot and was thankful a shuttle was nearby. These old legs could no longer walk fast. I checked in a little late and the agent had to give me a middle seat to Seattle where I would catch a flight to Billings. She pointed to a long line waiting to go through security. I stood patiently inching my way to the conveyer belt and archway. Finally I got there and saw everyone undoing belts and shoes. I hated to give up my belt, wallet, and especially shoes (mainly because they were so hard to take off and put on) but I dutifully put them on the belt hoping they would give this old man a little leeway.

Go ahead and come through, said the officer. I limped a little with a loose sock and walked through the arch still hoping for a little empathy. Bzzzz. Bzzzz. I thought the world had come to an end! Every alarm in the place seemed to go off.

Stand aside, Sir. Raise your hands please, said the officer.

His wand covered every inch of my body and for some reason I set that off too. He had me take off my shirt and pants. Here I am standing half naked in front of a waiting line of people.

I can’t go much farther, I said, without being arrested for indecent exposure. I tried to keep my sense of humor or I would have collapsed from stress.

He frisked me again. I can’t find anything, he said. You must have pins in your knees or something.

May be, I replied.

Go ahead and get dressed. Go on through. Fortunately he helped me gather my things. A young man behind me then helped with my belt and shoes. Thank you so much, I said. It’s hard to find good citizens anymore.

Let me take you to your gate, the young man offered. May I see your ticket?

I showed him the pass.

Seattle! Same as me! I’ll walk you down there.

Thanks so much, I replied.

Looks like maybe we’ll be sitting together, he said. My name’s Rich.

We found the gate and boarded rather quickly. The plane was crowded and there was no chance I could get a window seat. I thought maybe the young man would give me his but to no avail. At this stage I didn’t care and just plopped down in relief. I looked around to see almost everyone on their electronic devices... everyone that is except those in front of me and beside me.

Funny, said Rich. Phone doesn’t work. He leaned forward and compared notes with the passenger ahead of him. Hey, man, does your phone work?

Nope! Mine doesn’t work either.

He leaned over to the lady in the aisle seat. Nope. No worky, she explained without having to ask a question.

With everyone on the plane using a device except my row and the row ahead seemed to cause them great stress. The guy ahead of me turned and stared at me.

Hey, it’s not my fault! I answered jokingly. (In hindsight I actually may have had something to do with it) I don’t have mine on. He turned and nestled in with a sigh showing some withdrawal symptoms. Rich seemed to do the same and lost his desire to converse.

Other than unhappy neighbors, the flight went rather quickly to Seattle. I was thankful the gate to Billings was only three rooms down as my legs were getting stiff.

I was glad that I had a window seat to Billings. A very perky middle-aged lady sat next to me. As the plane took off and leveled I struck up a conversation.

Do you live in Billings? I asked.

I live down the road a few miles, she responded. But I do a lot of shopping there.

Are you from Billings? she asked.

I’m retired on the Oregon Coast now, I retorted, but I grew up in Deerfield.

Her face turned ashen. Oh my God! she croaked. Deerfield! Have you heard what’s been happening there? I think they’re about to close the whole town down.

What have you heard? I asked. I know a little about the apartments they closed and I guess a strange invasion of metal wires has destroyed my childhood home.

I guess several homes have been destroyed as well as the clinic, she responded. It is really eerie. I guess three people have been killed so far... one lady in the clinic and two people in a house. My aunt who lives near Deerfield says people there are really scared and would like more help. Boy, that’s really something that your childhood home was hit. I hope it wasn’t one that killed people.

Well, I’m hoping to get over there after a doctor’s appointment in Billings, I replied. Hopefully I can survey the situation and get out of Dodge.

Yes, I would get out of there rather quickly, she responded.

As I turned my attention inward and began to process the conversation, I realized I was now more curious than scared. I was more eager than ever to go to Deerfield and check things out for myself. At my age I had nothing to lose.

Billings

As the plane sailed over the Montana skies, my neighbor could tell I was enjoying the view.

Pretty, isn’t it? she blurted.

Yes it is. You forget how pretty this state is. The green forests of western Montana were punctuated with small agricultural valleys and high deep blue mountains still peaked with snow.

Do you miss it? she asked.

In the summer, I winked. I’m not so fond of cold winters anymore.

Are you having surgery in Billings? she asked.

I hope not. Suppose to get just a checkup for an old surgery, I explained.

You’re coming a long way for just a check-up, she said.

Yes, I know. Because of the nature of the surgery I have to see my old surgeon who’s familiar with the case.

I’m in the health field, she said calmly. I’m a nurse.

You are?

Yep. I’m a travelling dialysis nurse. I work six months at a spot and move on. I feel so fortunate to work close to home for a change. It’ll be a nice calming environment for me.... I hope.

Where did you work last?

Outside of Seattle in Everett. It was o.k. but the traffic, commute, and cost of living was outrageous. Umm... did you have your surgery in Billings?

Yes I did. It was years ago when I was 54. I don’t know why I was sharing so much but she seemed like a good listener. I could tell what her next question was going to be.

What kind of surgery? she asked.

Oh, dear. You really want to know that story? I asked.

I am a nurse, remember? If you don’t want to share it’s o.k.

No, no. That’s fine. I don’t mind. As a baby I had a defect with my stomach and digestive system. They did what they called a ‘minor’ surgery and it turned out o.k. Then, in my 50s I began to have issues. I finally had to have another surgery when I was 54 and they found some kind of instrument or tool left from that earlier surgery imbedded and enmeshed in tissue among various organs. They didn’t bother to find out what it was. They just took it out and tossed it. It was unrecognizable, I guess. Anyway, every three years I have my innards checked to see if it’s done any damage to my organs.

Wow. Sounds like a good idea, she said. I’ve had several surgeries myself.

From then on she took the opportunity to begin a diatribe of her medical history. I tried to be interested but her eyes started to look like two fried eggs topped with Easter basket stuffing.

You’ll have to forgive me, I finally said. This eighty-one-year-old body is in need of a trip to lala land. Do you mind if I catch a little nap?

I can see that, she replied. Go right ahead.

I nestled my head against the back of the seat and cabin window frame as best I could. I apparently didn’t have any trouble getting some Zs as all I remember was waking up to the Yellowstone River below and approaching the Billings airport. I sat up straight to enjoy the eastern Montana scenery.

You’re back with us, my nurse friend spouted.

Yes, I guess so, I replied.

Are you staying in Billings tonight? she asked.

Yes. I am hoping to have time to get labs this afternoon and an x-ray for tomorrow’s checkup. There is a motel next to the hospital I’m going to try to stay at. I’m hoping to get to Deerfield late tomorrow afternoon.

Here is my card, she said, pulling out an Everett Health business number. You probably won’t find a place to stay in Deerfield tomorrow. Those two Mom and Pop motels there will either be full or evacuated. My folks run a motel in Pennington 27 miles away. I’ll write the reservation number on the back. It’s the Royal Mountain Inn. She scribbled the number down and handed it over. Don’t pay any attention to my contact info. I’ll get new cards in Billings."

I examined the card. Your name is Emma Dee Hampson. Very pretty name, I said. Thank you so much, Emma. I might just take you up on it. I actually am very familiar with your folks’ motel. I have passed it many times on my way to Billings. Never stayed there yet, though.

I’m going to be there a few nights myself, she said. Maybe I’ll see you there.

It would be a pleasure, Emma. I hope you enjoy your term here.

She smiled as the wing flaps lowered the plane for its landing on the Billings rimrock airport.

My legs were sore and stiff as I tried to walk off the plane but I managed to follow the crowd to the luggage area. Emma stood close to me but seemed to be making conversation with another gentleman who was possibly her ride. She waved to me as I grabbed my suitcase and headed for the rentals. I checked my watch... 3:20. I should have time to get to the hospital for the labs and x-ray.

The rental car check-out went surprisingly smooth although they looked at me as if they weren’t sure I could drive an unfamiliar car in Billings.

Can you run GPS? the kid behind the counter asked.

Don’t need it, I responded. I’ve been driving for 65 years and I know Billings well.

We’ll bring it around for you so you won’t have to walk to the lot.

Thanks, that would be helpful. I said.

They gave me a rather souped-up black sedan with red interior which had nothing to do with my personal taste. I threw my suitcase in and slammed the trunk. I managed to pedal it to the motel next to the hospital. Fortunately, it wasn’t far from the airport.

I checked in and walked the two blocks to the hospital. It felt good to stretch my legs a little. The temperature was about eighty-four degrees that evening and it seemed as if Billings could use a little rain. The streets and sidewalks were very dusty which allowed little dust devils to stir before me. I knew the lab well and walked into the familiar waiting room. I was very hungry but knew I shouldn’t eat before lab work. I might splurge for a steak when I get back, I thought. After a fifteen-minute wait they had me go into the back room with a row of lab chairs.

A young technician had his back to me seemingly avoiding my presence.

Can you hurry? I asked the red-haired young man. I also need to get an x-ray for tomorrow.

Can you hurry? he responded. You need to go pee in this cup.

I smirked and went to the nearby rest room. After five minutes he started pounding on the door. Are you o.k.?

I’m trying. I’m trying. I don’t do well under pressure. I haven’t been drinking all day.

After another five minutes I finally managed a small gift and left the cup on the shelf. I walked out with a smile.

Sit over here Mr. Melstone. He sat me in the ecru leather chair with the flat hand rests. He slapped my wrist with two fingers until he found a vein.

This should do it, he said, poking the vein with some authority.

WHOA! he shouted as blood went gushing everywhere. The vial filled quite quickly. No problem with your veins, he said. He pulled out the needle and covered it with a cotton square. Hold this for a minute. I could tell he was perplexed about something else.

Something wrong? I asked.

"I’ve