The Sleeping Dragon: Book 1

By TJ Hackworth

Our story opens in a small fictitious town called Silver Meadows situated somewhere near our nation's capital. Two pastors will soon be discovering the evil that the lovers of Satan are spreading throughout their community. Many of the problems that concern Christians, -drugs, abortion and immorality for example, -will be faced by the people who live there. Lives will be changed as the story unfolds and various activities are exposed that all might see. Some of those involved will come to understand that they have to choose either God's love or Satan's hate, just as we all must do.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.
• Release date: Dec 31, 2016
• ISBN: 9781635251265

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The Sleeping Dragon

Book 1

TJ Hackworth

ISBN 978-1-63525-125-8 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-63525-126-5 (Digital)

Copyright © 2016 by TJ Hackworth

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods without the prior written permission of the publisher. For permission requests, solicit the publisher via the address below.

Christian Faith Publishing, Inc.

296 Chestnut Street

Meadville, PA 16335

www.christianfaithpublishing.com

Printed in the United States of America

Table of Contents

Prologue

And So It Will Begin

Friday, October 16

Saturday, October 17

Sunday, October 18

Monday, October 19

Tuesday, October 20

Wednesday, October 21

Thursday, October 22

Friday, October 23

Saturday, October 24

Sunday, October 25

Monday, October 26

Tuesday, October 27

Wednesday, October 28

Thursday, October 29

Friday, October 30

Saturday, October 31

Sunday, November 1

Epilogue

About the Author

This book is dedicated to my wonderful wife,

whose love and support helped me

become the man that I am today.

Prologue

BJ stayed in bed, listening to her mother get ready for work. Her father had left over an hour ago, and there was no one else in the house but the two of them. When her mother came in to kiss her good-bye and check that her alarm was set, she lay quiet, faking sleep. As the noise of the closing garage door came through the floor, she arose and looked out in time to see her mother drive off down the block.

Finally, she said aloud to herself, I didn’t think she would ever get out of here.

Her mother had taken no more time than usual, but this morning, each second had seemed to drag on forever. After a quick stop in the bathroom, she breezed through the kitchen on the way to her mother’s bedroom, pausing only to pluck an item off a pantry shelf. A short time later, she smiled to herself as she removed the small case from one of her mom’s lingerie drawers.

Mom, she said sarcastically to no one in particular, it’s nice of you to be so predictable. And a little lazy, since you’ve never bothered moving the key.

She had found the key in less than twenty minutes the first time she had looked for it. And like she said, her mother had never moved it. She reached up and to take it from its usual place, high in the closet.

Heading back to her room with treasure in hand, she continued the conversation with herself. I can’t believe how dumb I was to let myself run out of dope. The only thing that gets me through school is my breakfast and lunchtime joint. I hope Bobby has some more today. I can’t believe he ran out before I got to him. But never fear, Mom never fails to have a little something to tide me over.

She peeked out the window before setting down at her dressing table. She turned a large hand mirror face up, and opened the case. Removing a baggie and pack of cigarette papers from the case, she placed them on the mirror. With one of the papers she made herself a small marijuana cigarette from the contents of the baggie. Lastly, she then opened the bottle of oregano she’d brought from the kitchen and replaced the marijuana she had stolen.

Poor Mom, she thought. You’re going to get some strange disease, if you keep smoking all this spice.

She closed the bottle and cleaned up anything that spilled on the mirror. Lastly, she replaced everything in the case and locked it. Leaving her stolen bounty on the mirror for the moment, she returned the case and the key to their proper places. She did this before smoking the joint, having once beat her mom home by minutes to find she had left the box and key out.

Sitting back down at her dressing table, she eyed the tightly rolled joint. Her heart began pounding as she anticipated the feeling the drug would soon give her. Picking it up along with some matches, she sat on her window seat. She raised the window so the smoke would blow out and finally lit the dope.

In moments, the effect hit her. Now she could make it until she could buy some of her own. She was fine now. Everything was wonderful. For her, there were no problems anywhere in the world.

***

About ten miles away, a doctor pulled a sheet up over the head of a teenage girl. He was in a shabby clinic, in a run-down section of town that BJ would probably never see. The doctor slowly and sadly shook his head at the nurse who was watching him. Her lips tightened grimly as she turned away to begin cleaning up the mess. The doctor walked toward the door, and the one part of his job that he could never get used to.

Entering the waiting room, he was spotted by a middle-aged black couple, who rose to greet him. When the woman saw the look on his face, she buried her face in her husband’s shoulder and began to sob quietly. The man put a loving arm around his wife and, without looking at him, asked, What happened?

It appears that she hemorrhaged to death from a botched abortion. Just before the anesthetic took effect, she whispered that she had gone over the river with a friend to get an abortion. She told us that she didn’t want to put her parents through the shame of her having a baby out of wedlock.

As the couple stumbled numbly down the corridor, the woman looked up at her husband. Through her tears and grief she said, This world is such a horrible place anymore. Is there anywhere on earth where someone could find happiness?

And So It Will Begin

Welcome to Silver Meadows. As towns go, there is nothing truly special about it. It has no special buildings. No one famous or infamous was born here. It is merely a town where people are born, live their lives, and die. Some will return to the Father and some . . . well, we won’t dwell on that sad subject here. We will visit this town and, as the story unfolds, meet some of its inhabitants as they go about their lives attempting to do what they think is best. If you could imagine the pathways of their lives in the form of a spider’s web, you will begin to see the complexity that will soon be revealed. Their individual pathways will often cross, some a mere pleasant blending while others will collide with disastrous results.

But before we begin, allow me to first introduce a few of the main characters so that you will better understand events as they begin to happen. Let us start with those we might consider to be on the good side of the fence.

First there is the Reverend Jerry Smith and his lovely wife, Cheryl. Jerry leads the flock at the First Baptist Church. Their lives are quiet ones of service to the Lord. Their quiet lives will soon be turned upside down.

Next we have Mike Parsons. Although the pastor of a church of different theological background, he and Jerry are good friends and confidants.

There is also an assortment of minor characters: Bob Eliot the police chief, and a few of Jerry’s deacons whose strands on the web run parallel to Jerry’s. They all will suffer some of the effects when the collision occurs.

Lastly, on the side of good, we will mention Reverend Billy Joe and his wife, Tammie. He is a fast-rising TV evangelist and they are . . . well, let’s just say that they are quite a pair.

Now on the not-so-good side of the fence, we will begin with Luther Natas. Not a nice guy. In fact, by the end of the book, you will dislike him most thoroughly. But don’t be too hard on Luther. He has some real pain from his past that’s eating him up inside.

Eliot Overstreet is the owner of a bar and friend of Luther’s. Not a nice guy either. He and Luther are in the coven together. Oh! I failed to mention a coven? It will come as a surprise to the good people of Silver Meadows as well.

Ms. Cynthia Beakmann. A teacher at the high school. A teacher who is abusing her trust and leading a few young girls down the wrong garden path.

There are a few more of the not-so-good ones, but they are only minor characters, and you will meet them later.

Now for two who are riding the fence. To tell you the truth, they don’t even realize that there is a fence under them.

First there is Janet Rice. She recently lost her husband very suddenly, and the pain is still very fresh and raw. And he, you should be able to guess who the ultimate nasty he, is trying to use that pain to get to her.

Finally, there is Mary Preston. She knew Cynthia Beakmann in an earlier part of her life and Cynthia continues to mislead her. Her strand will cross that of Jerry’s and Cheryl’s and . . . well, we can always hope for the best, can’t we?

So this is Silver Meadows. Shall we head on in?

Friday, October 16

6:00 AM

The echoes from the squeaking tennis shoes and the final pwang of the ball faded slowly away. Mike Parsons leaned against the back wall of the racquetball court and wiped the sweat off his forehead.

You know, Jerry, this exercise stuff seems to get harder and harder each time we play. I feel like I’ve sweated out a gallon of water. I’m beginning to believe they turn the air conditioner off to get us out of here sooner.

Jerry Smith looked over at his friend while trying to even out his breathing and appear undaunted by the game. Shaking his head in mock sadness, he replied, I don’t know about playing racquetball with one of you old geezers. It doesn’t seem much of a challenge when I have to keep a bottle of oxygen for you outside the door.

Old! Mike exploded. The man who has three years on me and is ready to pass out from trying not to breathe hard has the nerve to call me old.

The two men broke out laughing as Jerry took a much-needed gasp of air. There was no real anger in their argument as this verbal sparring had taken place many times, and in many different forms, over the last five or so years. The pair were close friends, holding deep respect for each other, though they often differed in their beliefs. Jerry, a tall dark-haired man, was the pastor of the First Baptist Church of Silver Meadows. Whereas, Mike, a slender man who never seemed to lose his smile, headed the Faith and Love Church. Generally, one would think a Southern Baptist fundamentalist would have hard time relating to a Christian Charismatic and vice versa, except that the Lord had helped them to see past their differences to the person behind them. He was then able to use their differences to strengthen the men spiritually.

Back at the locker room, they stripped off their sweaty clothes and grabbed a towel before entering the sauna. Jerry let out a big sigh of contentment as he settled on the bench in the overheated room.

Boy, oh boy, the revival is going absolutely great over at the old F and L church!

Mike said this as he leaned back, closed his eyes, and rested his elbows on the tier behind him.

So you keep telling me, Jerry replied. I’ve been thinking about holding one for some time now.

Holding one? Mike partially opened one eye and looked over at Jerry. I don’t know about you Baptists sometimes. You don’t hold a revival, you start one.

That’s what I said, I’m gonna start a revival.

You don’t start a revival . . ., Mike began.

Wait a minute, Mike, you just said that you don’t hold a revival, you start one. Are you gonna make up your mind or are you just trying to confuse a young, inexperienced pastor with a lot of double talk?

Mike could hear the grin in Jerry’s tone, so he opened his eyes wide, rolled them up, and said in an exasperated voice, Please, someone save me from this nitpicking religious nut!

Jerry settled back and grew somber as the grin on his face was replaced by a look of worry and concern. Actually, Mike, I’ve been trying to get the fires of revival going in the congregation for some time now. I get the feeling that most of them only want to come to church and have me spoon-feed them a sermon so they can go home and feel good for a while. It appears that once they accept Jesus and get baptized, they believe there is nothing more to do but to wait for the Lord’s return. I liken it to attempting to start a fire with wet wood. I’m beginning to feel that I need some outside help, some kind of spiritual fire starter. I’ve prayed and prayed, but nothing has come to me, or happened, that I could call an answer to my prayers.

Mike could hear the frustration in his friend’s voice, and it saddened him. Just remember, Jerry, there are three answers to prayers: yes, no, and not right now. I think yours is either not right now or the Lord has something He wants you to learn. And don’t forget that when the spiritual fire starter comes, it can cause major upsets. So, if I were you, I would also be praying for the strength to handle it when He gets around to sending it.

Yeah, Mike, I know. I’m just looking for a spiritual brick to hit them up the side of their spiritual heads with. All it seems that I can do is pray for them and give them the love that Christ would have me give them. I know it’s up to the Lord to get their attention, but I’m impatient, because I can see how much they could be doing for Him.

Silence dragged on for several minutes while each man gave thought to the ideas that had just been aired. Finally, Jerry stretched and, seemingly with a great effort, changed the subject.

You know, Mike, there’s something I’ve been hearing rumors of lately that’s really disturbed me. Several people have mentioned in passing that they have heard a satanic coven is operating right here in Silver Meadows. What’s even more incredible is that it’s even supposed to have gained a foothold in the high school.

Mike looked over sharply at him and replied, Funny that you should bring that up. Earlier I was talking to two of the high school boys in my church, and they were telling me some crazy-sounding stories about that very subject. Have you heard about a group of boys on the football team who’ve nicknamed themselves Satan’s Six? At least that’s what it was last year when there were six. One of the boys graduated and brought the number down to five. But rumor has it that they are looking for a replacement to bring the number back up to six. Most attribute their name to a takeoff of the school emblem, the Red Devils, but I just don’t know.

Jerry sat watching Mike, waiting for him to continue. When it didn’t appear that the other would, he prompted him with, You don’t know what? Come on, give. I know when something is bothering you. At times I think you do this just to drive me crazy.

You asked for it, Mike said with an apologetic look on his face. It just seems strange that last fall, these six boys got together and formed an almost invincible squad. Last year’s state championship win is said to be entirely because of them. They just couldn’t be stopped. What I don’t like is the feeling I got in the pit of my stomach while talking to my two boys. They couldn’t give me any hard facts, but they put together some mighty interesting circumstantial evidence. It appears that the boys on this squad never hung around together until last fall. A couple of them were acquaintances, but they mostly ran in different circles. They couldn’t find anyone who could give them the least idea of how they got together, or why. But once they did, the circle was closed, and no one else was allowed in. Even guys that they used to hang around with were excluded. If you weren’t in the six, they acted as if they didn’t know you existed. My boys told me that they overheard them in the lunchroom the other day talking about ceremonies, oaths, and rituals, and they didn’t mean the type the Boy Scouts do. One of my boys said that he doesn’t know why, but he got goose bumps listening to them.

Also there are several groups of students that are deeply into the Dungeons & Dragons type of games, with some of the kids almost living their characters. Apparently, there is one girl who won’t respond to her real name anymore. To get her attention, you have to call her Black Widow. They told me that even the teachers have given up and have started calling her that. Talk about scary. The big question in all of this for me has to be, where are the girl’s parents?

The boys also informed me that drugs are getting so common in the school that they have seen deals take place in front of the principal’s office. I guess Charlie wasn’t in at the time. I know that if he had seen it, they would have been hauled into his office to wait while he called the police.

Mike stopped and looked over at Jerry, whose face showed a spectrum of emotions that included worry, concern, and especially confusion. Is that the kind of rumors that you’re talking about?

Jerry was stunned! It was a minute or so before he could answer. Good Lord, Mike, I had no idea that it could be this serious. I talk with lot of the kids at church, but none of them has ever taken me into their confidence enough to tell me things like this. A long talk with my youth minister seems to be the thing to do now. But I have a bad feeling I’m gonna find that he’s in the dark, just like I was.

Jerry leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. What can we do? Can anything be done? Mike, this is incredible beyond belief. I must have a dozen or more books on cults in my library at home. They all talk about how Satan is stealing our children through drugs and brainwashing cults. But here in Silver Meadows? This is something that happens somewhere else. Silver Meadows isn’t that kind of town. It’s just . . . just . . . well, it’s just too peaceful.

I know how you feel, Jerry. It knocked me for a loop the first time I heard it too. But I’ve been doing some checking, and there is a lot going on around here that people are either ignoring or covering up. Bob Eliot, the police chief, is supposed to have some concrete info about strange goings on, but I haven’t had time to get by and see him yet.

That’s OK, Jerry said. I can get that information tomorrow. Bob is one of my deacons, and I have a special meeting called with some of them in the morning. It’s not hard to corner someone when you’re his pastor.

As they stood up to leave, Jerry looked over at Mike and said, To think that I imagined I had such a grave problem when I came in here. Satan is attacking all around me and I was totally blind. Thanks for opening my eyes, Mike. Looks like my prayers are going to be even longer than usual from now on.

Outside the building, Jerry stood, enjoying the feeble warmth from the early morning sun while he waited for Mike. He kept turning the information Mike had given him over and over in his mind, trying to come to grips with it. Until a few minutes ago, situations like this were something to pity others about. He had never dreamed that something like this would happen so close to him. In the bright morning sunlight, it felt like he was in a fairy tale gone sour, or a bad dream.

Unknown to them, they were being watched as they walked to Jerry’s car. The curtains had been pulled back slightly in a second-floor apartment window, and a pair of eyes, filled with hate and malice, followed them.

That self-righteous, religious scum will have to be put in their place! thought Luther Natas as he dropped the curtain and turned away from the window.

11:45 AM

BJ morosely stirred the ketchup on her plate with a soggy french fry. The high she had gotten from her mother’s supply had worn off some time ago. She looked up bitterly at her friend Teresa, who watched her from across the table. They were sitting in the school cafeteria, the remains of lunch scattered about their trays.

I can’t believe that bum wouldn’t sell me any. He says, ‘I’m sorry, but I’ve only got a couple of bags left. I’m going to a party tonight and have already promised them to certain people.’ He’s such a slime! I even offered him twice what I usually pay, but no dice. He wouldn’t budge no matter what. Maybe Monday, he says. If I knew another dealer, I’d never speak to him again. She threw the disintegrating french fry down in disgust. But he’s the only one I know.

She was furious, and Teresa knew to just let her rant and rave and get it all out. If she could let off enough steam, BJ would be almost tolerable until she could get some more dope.

Did he say where the party was? I mean, like you could get yourself invited to it and probably pocket a couple of joints when no one was looking. That would help to tide you over, Teresa suggested hopefully.

Teresa was actually starting to worry about her friend. The two of them had started smoking together once or twice a week toward the end of school last year, but something had changed since then. Soon after school had commenced this year, BJ’s drug usage had increased dramatically, whereas Teresa’s had almost dried up completely. Teresa could never find out what had happened, and moments where BJ wasn’t stoned and would talk were becoming fewer and fewer.

BJ had picked up a fork and poked at her uneaten hamburger until it resembled a sieve. She was looking for something else to take her frustrations out on when she saw a hopeful look light up Teresa’s face.

What you looking so happy about? BJ growled.

Teresa pointed across the room and said, You wanted another dealer? Well, there he is, Craig Jackson. She then began waving to get his attention.

BJ turned around and, giving a low whistle, said, Wow, what a hunk. You sure he’s a dealer? She glanced back at Teresa. Looks too good and clean-cut. The only dealers I’ve known look like they were scraped off the bottom of a garbage scow. Man, that guy is totally cute!

She turned around and watched him. When he noticed Teresa waving, he started their way. BJ smiled brightly and said over her shoulder, So how many girls does he have hanging all over him?

When Teresa replied with As far as I can find out, none. He’s completely unattached, BJ turned back around to stare at her friend.

None? Not even one? Is there something wrong with him? He does like girls, doesn’t he?

Nothing wrong, likes girls, and here he is, Teresa said through her smile without moving her lips. Craig, how you been? Haven’t talked to you in quite a while? If you haven’t got a place to sit yet why don’t you join BJ and I?

Craig admired the two rather cute females who were smiling up at him sweetly and made his mind up quickly. As he sat, Teresa made the introductions and brought him up to date on them and any school gossip she thought he might want to know.

While Teresa was talking, BJ, who was sitting next to Craig, studied his profile.

He’s so good looking, she thought. How could he be floating around free?

BJ’s thoughts were interrupted when she realized Teresa was talking about her.

So you see, Craig, I would be ever so grateful if you would sell BJ a small bag just this once. I know how careful you are about whom you sell to, but BJ is really trustworthy and won’t tell anyone. Will you, BJ?

This last comment was made to BJ in a rather commanding tone. BJ looked at her friend a little surprised, but she had already made up her mind. While she was admiring him, she had come to the conclusion that actually wanted Craig more than she wanted the dope. But if she had to buy the dope just to get closer to him, then buy she would.

A while back, she had witnessed her mother pull a little ploy to get something out of her father, and she now hoped it would work as well on Craig. Turning slightly toward him, she looked coyly down at his arm as she began running her fingertip lightly up and down it.

And muscles too! she thought. This guy is too good to be true. Listen, Craig, she began without lifting her eyes off his arm. I know that in your position, you have to be careful. But I really want to get to know you better and be someone you can trust. So, I think we can close this deal in a way that will leave no doubts in your mind.

BJ leaned closer, put her lips close to his ear, and whispered, Would you like to go see if the infamous prop room is empty? After meeting you, I’m not sure if I’m more interested in you or the dope. Giving his arm a little squeeze, she concluded with, But the dope seems to be losing the race.

Craig looked across the table at Teresa. The girl was staring at her friend with an expression that looked very much like shock. He sensed that something really unusual was going on with BJ, but he had already decided that he was becoming very intrigued by her and wanted to know much more.

He leaned back and looked into BJ’s beautiful blue eyes and said, I have nothing going on for the next hour or so. How about you?

Glancing down at the mess on her plate, she replied. I seem to be finished with my lunch. How about we walk around outside and talk?

Turning back to Teresa, whose chin was almost in her lap from surprise, BJ said, Hope you don’t mind us deserting you, but I would like to get to know Craig a little better.

A speechless Teresa could only shake her head as the pair got up and left.

BJ and Craig did leave the lunch room but failed to get anywhere near the outside of the school. Instead, they went straight to the so-called prop room in the auditorium. The room was accessible only by climbing a ladder, which was mounted on a wall behind some curtains. It was supposed to have been a prop storage room but, due to the difficult access, was unused . . . by the staff that is. A padlock had secured the door, but that item had long ago been broken by some nosy boys. The two kids peered up in the dim light to see if the lock was in place. It was, which told them that the room was unoccupied. Craig scaled the ladder first to open the door and assist BJ when she climbed up after him.

BJ, looking up at the ladder, was glad that she had decided to wear flats today instead of her usual heels. She could almost picture herself falling off the ladder because of the wrong type of shoes.

They found the room to be larger than expected and rather neat, considering that none of the kids who frequented it would ever think to clean up their own mess.

Lying in one corner was an old mattress with a couple of dirty blankets on it. BJ walked over and, after looking it over, sat down on it and leaned back against the wall.

Someone went to a lot of trouble to get this mattress up here, BJ commented.

That’s true, but with some of the crazies roaming this school, I’m surprised that this place isn’t fully furnished, Craig replied.

She watched him as he pulled a small tube out of his pocket and removed a joint from it. He lit it and offered it to her. She took it as he lowered himself to the mattress next to her. Snuggling against him and resting her head on his chest, she experienced a strange feeling of security. His arm was around her, and she could sense him watching her. Looking up at him, she wondered at the thoughts that were passing behind his deep-green eyes. BJ had the sudden thought that she wanted him and, even more importantly, wanted him to want her. This would not be her first time with a boy. There had been one before. She had not been in love with him, merely curious. And around that time in her life, she hadn’t wanted to look like an oddball to her friends by staying a virgin. This would not be her first time, but as she raised her lips to meet his, she felt that this time it was going to be something very, very special.

12:30 PM

The business district on Main Street in Silver Meadows is a short stretch of nostalgia. A single block long, it is lined with small stores and shaded by oak trees planted before the onset of World War I. Halfway down the block, across from the town hall, the stores give way to a small park. Enclosing this spot of peace and tranquility is an old white handcrafted wrought iron fence. In the center of the park is a bandstand where concerts can still be heard two Sundays a month all summer long. There has never been an official speed limit on Main Street, but none ever seemed to be needed. It had always felt wrong to hurry, even when one is running late. The stores are a mix of old family-owned businesses, the likes of which can be found in any small town, residing beside a more modern selection of boutiques and antique shops. For example, Smith’s Hardware sits between Beal Feed and Grain and the Special Treasures Antique Shop. A little farther along, on the other side of the street, still run by Mable herself is Mable’s Beauty Parlor. To the left of Mable is the Beautiful Baby Boutique. Mable had stopped in there once and came away quite shocked by the prices. Her ideas of good prices were those she found at Janet’s Pre-owned Clothes. Janet’s was down the street and around the corner. It used to be known as Janet’s Resell It Shop, but with the influx of the more well-to-do crowd, she had renamed it. On the other side of Mable was a shop that had been open for only a few months. Mable had hoped at first that it would be a Christian bookstore. But when she finally got time to visit, she sensed that something wasn’t right. In fact she had to ask quite a few people before she found out what New Age really meant.

A bell tinkled as Janet Rice opened the door to the New Age Books and Things store and stepped inside. Mary Preston looked up from the list of books that she was checking in, and her face broke into a warm smile. Although Janet was probably twenty-five years older, a connection had clicked, and Mary had felt as if she had known her for years the first time they met. Janet had stopped in late one afternoon a couple of days after Mary had first opened the store, and the two of them had talked way past closing time. Mary had set up a small nook in a corner by the front window where she could sit and sip a cup of her favorite herbal tea while watching the people go by. It was there that she had sat and talked with Janet for several hours while they had consumed uncounted cups of tea. Mary was new to the town and Janet had told her all about the place she now called home. She talked about the people she had grown up with and the changes that had taken place over the last decade as the town had grown at such a startling rate. This change had transpired when many of the middle- and upper-middle class people had moved out here to get away from the problems of the nearby big city. She discussed the other businesses in town and finally admitted that she was the owner of Rice’s Carpet, though she changed the subject rather quickly after that. Mary had sensed an emptiness in her at that moment, like a hurt that had never healed. She had later found out that Janet’s husband had died unexpectedly, less than a year prior, and Janet was having a hard time accepting the fact that he was gone.

Where have you been keeping yourself? Mary asked. I haven’t seen you for a couple of weeks.

"Well, I always do an inventory and go over the books during the first week of October. I had just about finished when what seems like half the people in Silver Meadows decided that they wanted new