The Mound

By Ron Teachworth

During the summer between fifth and sixth grade, Ethan Hinsdale and Gavin Porter wanted to build a treehouse in a tree on elevated ground. They didn't expect to find that their choice for a location turned out to be an ancient Native American Mound. Now, three years later, Ethan and his friend Rachel, are in

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ron Teachworth
• Release date: Mar 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9781962730204

Ron Teachworth

I grew up in Detroit and spent my teenage summers on my grandparent's farm in rural Tennessee.  I have a BA, and an MA from London Film School and developed my writing skills while working in educational television and film.  I have taught at the college level and recently founded the Detroit Art Review, where we publish visual art reviews weekly. I wrote and directed a feature film, Going Back, for Vestron Pictures starring Bruce Campbell. Now available on Amazon. I wrote a children's book, Two Stones, self- published at Xlibris. I wrote a novel, The Annunciation, that was a finalist in the 2015 Indy Book Awards and a collection of YA short stories, Beyond, that was recognized in national competition at Shelf Unbound.

Book preview

1

After getting home from church and consuming a quick bowl of oatmeal and toast, Ethan scurried out the back door in his worn blue jeans and T-shirt, forgetting to ease the door that slammed shut behind him.

With one foot on the bottom rung of the logwood fence, he hopped over and made his way west into the vast landscape of mixed farmland and sprawling meadow.  There were endless stretches of corn, wheat, and soybeans with small islands of trees surrounded by large stones that had been gathered by farmers while clearing for crops.

It had been a couple of years since Ethan and Gavin Porter had built themselves a treehouse, and for some reason, as he sat earlier that morning in the church pew, his mind turned to the treehouse.  He wondered if it was still there.  ‘Let’s find out?’ he thought to himself, as various streaks of colored light hit his knees from the modest stained-glass windows.  His father assumed he was focused on the church mass, but instead, Ethan used his time there to daydream and plan his day.

Less than a mile away, the Forked Deer River formed a basin.  Along the west side were wetlands. To the east, red dirt banks climbed as high as twelve feet to a plateau that leveled off into light woodlands.  The old farm road was still there, and eventually, Ethan saw the small, single-room house that stood stable and unchanged.  The wood structure was a handcrafted house with a variety of log timbers and wooden shake shingles.  There was no uniformity to the way the small house was constructed, as hand hewed logs in a variety of sizes and shapes formed the walls, and each small window had its own size.

Chogan, the sole occupant, was an older man who was very private in his way.  Ethan recalled seeing him kneeling in some kind of a meditative position from time to time, and only occasionally did they exchange words. 

Once, after working on the treehouse and making their way back home, Ethan and Gavin stopped and asked for a drink of water from the hand pump in the yard.

Chogan smiled and took a cup of water from a wooden bucket and poured it into the top of the pump.  With repeated movements on the iron arm of the well pump, the pure cold water flowed generously down the spout. Ethan had laughed as Gavin placed his mouth too close, soaking his entire head.  It was the expression on Chogan’s face Ethan remembered.  His broad smile displayed white teeth set against reddish-brown skin. Ethan recalled their short conversation.

We’ve built a treehouse not far from here, about a quarter of a mile downriver on a high, conical-shaped Mound. Do you know it?

Chogan looked into the eyes of the two boys and saw their youthfulness.  His gaze was kind and warm but at the same time, stately and penetrating.

I know all the Mounds here. The one you speak of is a resting place, where the bear sleeps and the hawk flies.  It is 1000 years old. You should be careful around the Mounds. They have a special power.  Hey boys, how about some more water?

2

On a sun-filled afternoon, as Ethan walked along and passed the house, Chogan was nowhere to be seen.  His thoughts drifted back to the hard work he and Gavin had done on the treehouse.  Hauling the lumber up the mound alone took a good two weeks and the construction another month.  There were many times when the hammer missed the nail and hit a thumb or finger, not to mention the nest of hornets that had been living in the tree long before they arrived. That summer, between fifth and sixth grades, the weather was unusually hot, and the river provided their only respite. The boys fashioned a rope on a limb that let them swing out and over the deepest spot in the river.  Ethan laughed as he recalled that Gavin always insisted that it be a skinny-dipping event.

He walked down the path towards the mound and recognized the growth of trees that grew there.  The Mound itself was smaller than he remembered.  From about fifty yards away, he estimated the height to be about a hundred feet, and the giant oak tree at its summit extended up another thirty feet.  He could barely make out the small structure hidden by the tree growth and leaf cover.

As he drew closer, he could see the treehouse still seated firmly in the crotch of several thick oak tree limbs.  The steps they had added were made of beech and were still firmly anchored as he pulled himself upward.  Except for an abandon bird nest, scattered acorn casings, and twigs, the platform was in good shape.  The shed roof and the railings were solid and in good condition as if no one had been there since his last visit, now probably a couple of years ago.

Ethan climbed in and looked around at the magic marker graffiti that made him laugh.  No longer were the same idioms in his head.  He read the name of a girl who Gavin had liked and recognized small drawings of power rangers surrounded by bolts of laser light.  The most notable difference in the treehouse was the view to the east. 

There was a new white farm fence about fifty yards away, with recently planted Kentucky Blue Grass that grew high and swayed back and forth in the wind.  The unusual configuration of the wall was an indicator of what was confined within it:  Sheep.

Farmers in the west part of Tennessee grew soybean, barley, corn, wheat, and tobacco. Their livestock consisted of hogs and beef cattle raised for human consumption. Farmland was usually divided by a single wire or rows of stones cleared by farmers demarcating their property line.  No one would spend that kind of money on a fence except a sheep farmer. They were needed to keep the sheep in and the coyotes or wolves out.  The wall and grass ran for acres, as far as Ethan could see, and off toward the horizon were hundreds of white dots that confirmed his suspicion.  ‘Someone has got themselves one heck of a flock," he thought.

The sheep were too far away to identify for sure, but Ethan figured they were probably Suffolk, medium wool, black-faced breed, mostly white varying to beige. 

Ethan had heard his father talk about the new Moorehouse Farm and its expansion into sheep.  As his father told the story during dinner, the farm was now one of the most successful in the county, winning all the top awards at the state fair in the last two years. Sheep production was usually confined to the far west. Still, the Moorehouse Family Foundation had researched a new breeding method and practiced a combination of raising lambs for meat, sheep for wool, and breeding for other farmers.  The farm was very profitable.

From the treehouse, Ethan gazed out over the meadow and wondered how close to the fence the sheep would come.  Not far inside the farm fence were four small mounds carefully positioned as if at the corners of an imaginary square. Their diameters were only about twenty feet, and each rose about six feet to a flat plateau.  ‘So symmetrical, they almost look man-made,’ he thought.

3

The bell rang and brought Ethan out of a history class daydream.  Gavin passed by and kicked the back of his chair leg just for the heck of it.

Hey dude, I’ll catch you at lunch in the cafeteria. I think it’s pizza day.

Gavin yanked up on the belt loop of his jeans that hung on his thin, boney frame and made his way out of the classroom and into a maze of student-jammed traffic.  Ethan was off to science class with his favorite teacher, Ms. Claire Reynolds, who had told the class on Friday she was going, beginning with, a new surprise unit on Monday.  Earlier, Ethan had looked in his science textbook and paged forward, trying to figure out what she meant.  From what he could see, the next unit was on reptiles.  ‘How could that be a surprise?’ he thought, ‘unless she can make it rain lizards?’

The science classroom was just down the hall, and everyone rushed in at the last minute and took their seats to avoid being tardy. Ethan took his place in the second row, four seats back from the front, and opened his book bag.  Sitting one row over was Rachel Moorehouse. As of yet, she had not looked at or spoken a single word to Ethan.

She was mature for her age, with striking facial features.  Ethan first saw her at a football assembly dressed in her cheerleading outfit, and Gavin described her as the new girl from the fancy new farm.  Gavin’s brother worked at the Moorehouse Farm, where they raised prizewinning cattle, hogs, and now sheep.

Everyone settled into their seats as Ethan watched Rachel pin back her long brown hair.  He tried not to notice her, but it was hard.  She was new to the school, yet she made the cheerleading tryouts and was voted captain of the team.  Ethan could tell she liked science class because she volunteered to help Ms. Reynolds whenever possible.  Although she did not say much in class, Ethan noticed her test results were the highest in the class. ‘Beautiful and smart," he thought.  Ms. Reynolds started with her new surprise. 

"Some of you may recall that we’re starting a new unit today. 

I got special permission from our principal, Dr. Walker, to do a short unit on astronomy.  Is anyone familiar with astronomy?  Yes, Jake?" she said, responding to the first hand that popped up.

I’m a Gemini! The comment was followed by scattered laughter.

That’s Astrology.  It kind of sounds like astronomy, but what you are referring to has to do with the Greek gods and the symbols of the Zodiac.  These are celestial bodies that predict the influence over human affairs.  What we will be studying is the basics of our solar system. I hope to teach you all how to use a telescope.

Ms. Reynolds stood in the front of her eighth-grade class with excitement that she could hardly contain.  Earlier in the school year, she had presented the idea to her department chair and asked permission to diverge from the text curriculum and introduce some astronomy basics.  He had submitted the proposal to the principal.  She had argued that the material she would cover would help students later on the state standardized test. Recently hired and in her second year of teaching, no one knew that her father was a famous professor of astronomy at Princeton University and that she had owned her telescope since the age of six.  Although she majored in science in college, she had a minor in astronomy, and it was her passion.  After passing out a supplement, she began talking about a single star, the Sun, and all the objects in its orbit.

Ethan sat in quiet amazement.  His question was answered, and it was a surprise, but it was something that had resonated with him since his early childhood: the heavens, the stars, and the solar system.  So many nights, he would lie on the grass and gaze upward with questions that wouldn’t stop.  In the first half-hour of her introduction, everyone got the message.  Ms. Reynolds loves astronomy.  Her remarks continued as the