Mystery of Haunted Falls by David S. Dokken

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The Mystery of Haunted Falls
The Further Adventures of Adam Balsam
All Rights Reserved.
Copyright © 2017 David S. Dokken
v5.0

This is a work of fiction. The events and characters described herein are imaginary and are not intended to
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To Keith and Carol Anderson
Great friends, great encouragers, and for helping:

Many thanks



MAIN CHARACTERS

BENJAMIN TIMBERS Sheriff of Pine Cone, Six foot four, medium build. Short black
hair, black bushy mustache, dark brown eyes. Spent two
tours of duty in Vietnam before becoming sheriff. Single,
twenty-two years old.

TY WILSON Deputy of Aspen Leaf. Six foot tall, medium build, short black
hair, dark brown eyes, black mustache. Spent one tour of
duty in Vietnam. Single, Twenty years old.

ADAM BALSAM AKA TROUBLE Brown hair, hazel eyes, five foot six, in high school. Unofficial
deputy for Sheriff Timbers. Was a troublemaker before
meeting Ben Timbers.

DALE BROOKHILL Sheriff of Willowville. Five foot eleven, small build, hazel

eyes, salt-and-pepper hair, in his forties.

LORENA MENDOZA Five foot eight, medium build, shoulder-length, coal-black
hair, soft brown eyes, soft brown complexion, and tall for her
age. In high school, also an unofficial deputy for Sheriff
Timbers. Very attractive. Half Spanish and half Lakota Sioux.

DOC TURTLE Five foot ten, large build, sandy-colored hair, crew cut,
heavy mustache, soft brown eyes; spent two tours of duty
in Vietnam before coming to Pine Cone. Divorced, twenty-
seven years old.

ELIZABETH MENDOZA Five foot two, medium build, attractive, dark brown eyes,
mid-back long dark black hair. Owner of The Spruce Creek
Lodge. Widow, in her mid-thirties.

HANS SCHMIDT Five foot ten, large build, short, light blond hair, sky-blue
eyes. Emigrated from Germany. Owns the bakery. Has a
heavy accent.

ERIKA MORRISON Five foot ten, thin build but attractive. Mid-shoulder-length
auburn hair, dark green eyes. Single, in her mid-twenties, and
well respected. She owns some cabins, which she rents out.

HENRY TOMPKINS Six foot, medium build, brown eyes, thinning dark brown

hair, owner of the hardware store. Married, fifty years old.

CHERYL DAVIDSON Nurse for Doc Turtle, five foot seven, small build, light hazel
eyes, brunette-colored hair that is shoulder length, kept in a
ponytail. In her early twenties and single.

BILLY STOCKTON Five foot ten, medium build, brown eyes set deep in the
sockets, short brown hair. Has a scar that runs the length of
his right cheek. Works at the hardware store and trying to
turn his life around.

PASTOR PETERSON Six foot, medium build, light brown eyes, dirty-blond hair
parted on the left side. Pastor of the church in Pine Cone.
Married to his wife Molly.

SPARKS JACKSON Five foot eleven, small build, short blond hair, baby-blue
eyes. Bank manager, recovering from a beating and stab-
bing. (See The Pine Cone Bank Robbery) Married to Lorraine
Twenty-eight years old.

SAM HOWELL Six foot two, thin, almost black eyes behind wire rimmed

glasses. short brown hair, Single, works at the bank as a teller.

LORRAINE JACKSON Five foot, small build, light green eyes. Attractive, shoulder-

length dark blond hair. Married to Sparks.

BRENT TELLER Five foot five, large build. Red hair, hazel eyes. In high

school. A bully and troublemaker.

JIM TELLER Six foot four, small build, dark blue eyes and gray hair. Two
small scars above his left eye and scars on his hands from
barbwire fence snapping back on him. Owner of the Spruce
Creek General Store. Father of Brent Teller.

JACK PRATT Six foot three, medium build. Hazel eyes, gray hair. An old

codger from Willowville and of the outdoors.

PETE HOLLOWSHIP Five foot six, rather large build, gray eyes, thinning white hair.

An old codger from Pine Cone and of the outdoors.

MRS. BALSAM Five foot four, plump, warm brown eyes, sandy-brown curly

hair. Adam’s/Trouble’s mama.

MR. BALSAM Six foot, small build, bald on top with brown around the rest
of his head, with streaks of gray around the temples. Adam’s/
Trouble’s father. Never seems to be home because of work.



CHAPTER ONE

It was a warm July morning in 1967 when two codgers, one from
the town of Pine Cone, the other from Willowville, crested the
top of Cross Gulch Ridge, just before the sun’s rays peaked over
the continental divide. Pausing with their fishing rods and tackle
boxes in hand, they watched as the sunlight hit a far peak and start-
ed to slowly work its way down the mountainside. Across the ridge,
a good-size creek dropped over a rocky edge creating a waterfall
dropping down into a rather large pond, the spray rising up as it hit.
The outlet of the pond went into a creek that was a bit smaller and
flowed gently down toward the town of Willowville. Just beyond
the outflow of the pond, a small meadow showed off its bouquet
of wildflowers among a few tall virgin aspen trees.

As the two codgers, Pete Hollowship and Jack Pratt, contin-
ued on down the back side of Cross Gulch Ridge, the sun’s rays hit
the pond causing a copper dance to reflect on gentle ripples. This
caused the aquatic insect life to become very energetic, and thus,
the rainbow and brook trout began their feeding frenzy. Upon see-
ing this, the two about killed themselves getting down to the pond,
neither one even caring that the three-quarter full white moon
was now slowly rising on the eastern horizon. They were sports-
men at heart, but after being in the outdoors as much as they had
been, they started to take things for granted, forgetting some of the
knowledge they had learned: listening to the birds, watching the
wildlife, and keeping an eye on the sky.

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David S Dokken

Anxious to see who would be the first one to catch a feisty trout,
Pete went to cast out, but the hooks on his lure caught his hat and
his gray eyes watched in horror as his hat flew out landing on the
water, exposing his thinning white hair. Jack’s hazel eyes watched as
the hat landed on the water and broke down laughing . . . until his
cast sent his own hat out twenty yards, exposing his gray hair. After
that, it was too good to be true as every cast produced a trout, and
they were having the time of their lives. Then without warning, the
trout quit biting and the singing birds went quiet. Even the chip-
munks and ground squirrels quickly vanished.

Both Pete and Jack set down their rods and walked to the wa-
terfall, letting the misty spray fall in their faces providing relief from
the heat of the morning. For no logical reason, it got extremely
cold quickly, and a fog bank came up so thick, that although Pete
and Jack were only three feet apart, they could not see each other.
Fear gripped both men as they heard a lot of strange, loud, spooky
noises, along with a lot of thunder. Reaching for his compass, Pete
watched as the needle spun one direction, and then the other.
Running blindly, they tripped over their tackle boxes and fishing
rods. After picking themselves and their fishing gear up, they fell
into the creek, whereupon getting up again, they ran where they
could and floated where they could as fast as possible.

The fog disappeared when they were a mile from the town of
Willowville. They were so cold from the water that they could bare-
ly walk. Although still full of fear and their limbs numb from the
cold water, they managed to get to Jack’s cabin. After hot showers,
drinking hot coffee, and wolfing down bowls of beef stew, they had
a very long talk all night long while constantly looking at their bro-
ken rods and dented tackle boxes. Jack looked at Pete and noticed
his hair seemed to be much whiter than before. His light gray eyes
said it all . . . What happened at the falls? Looking in the mirror,
Jack’s hazel eyes saw his hair was starting to lose some on the top
of his head, for it seemed thinner than before. With their discus-
sion over, both men left for Pine Cone. The sun was covered by
heavy clouds as the two made their way to The Rancher’s Brand

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The Mystery of Haunted Falls

for breakfast with a friend named Steve Mack, who agreed to hear
what they had to say about their fishing adventure the day before.

z

Getting back on his feet after the beating and stabbing from the
bank robbery and hospital stay, Sparks Jackson opened the bank
an hour earlier than when Martin Hickman, or Mark Howard, as
he was really known, did. One week after he had gotten out of the
hospital, he worked half days for the first week and a half to get his
strength back, and the townsfolks had told him they wanted him to
be not only the bank president but manager as well, just like Sheriff
Timbers had told him back in the hospital.

Sparks made some major changes in his first three weeks as
bank president. First, the interior had been redesigned with new
carpet and wallpaper with a southwestern flair. Second, the exte-
rior had been repainted and new steps and a porch had been put
in. With the two changes, the customers wanted to stay and have a
cup of coffee and a donut while talking to the bank personnel. Last,
but the most important change he made, was how the bank would
be run. The employees would dress nicely and would treat every
customer with respect. Sparks did something else the employees
were not used to, and that was he called them by name, as well as
treated them with respect, and if he could, helped them out. He
also offered a ten-dollar savings bond to youngsters, encouraging
them to open a savings account, and because of these things, ev-
eryone who had withdrawn their money returned.

Dressed in a starched white shirt, a striped blue and red tie,
black pants, dress shoes, and a black sports coat, Sparks stepped
out of the bank and walked to the bakery for three-dozen donuts.
He was glad Hans Schmidt had moved his money back to the bank
here in Pine Cone. While Hans filled the boxes with donuts, the two
talked about what the new sheriff’s office would look like, as well as
how long it would take to rebuild. Leaving the bakery, and making

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David S Dokken

his way back to the bank, Sparks glanced over at the progress be-
ing made on the cleanup of the sheriff’s office from the explosions
almost six weeks back. There had been much done, but there was
a long way to go too.

“Mr. Howell,” Sparks said, as he walked back into the bank,
“would you please take a bear sign and a cup of coffee over to
Sheriff Timbers.”

“Excuse me, Sparks, did you say bear sign?” Sam Howell asked
with a puzzled look in his black eyes.

“Yes, Mr. Howell, bear sign, or as you know it better by, a do-
nut,” Sparks replied, with a half chuckle in his voice.

Sam Howell picked out a large bear claw donut from the box,
put it on a paper towel, and then poured a good-sized cup of cof-
fee. Careful not to spill the coffee on his new light blue shirt or
cream-colored sports jacket, he went out the door and up to where
the work was going on to rebuild the sheriff’s office. He had come
looking for work six days after the explosion that had taken out the
sheriff’s office, and heard from Sparks many of the details. Looking
around among the men working on clearing the final debris from
the foundation, Sam spotted Sheriff Ben Timbers tossing a couple
of two by fours. The tall, young man with short brown hair and
wire-rimmed spectacles made his way over to Sheriff Ben. Smiling,
he handed him the mug of coffee and the bag.

“Sparks told me you might want some coffee to go with your
bear sign.”

“Mr. Howell, you would be right. Nothing goes better with bear
sign than a good cup of coffee, unless, of course, it is a tall glass of
cold milk.”

“I best be getting back before Sparks fires me for standing out
here talking to you and not working.”

“Sam, Sparks won’t fire you that quick. He’s testing you to see if
you can cut it in this small-town atmosphere, and by my standards,
you’ll do just fine. Now, if it were Mark Howard running things, you
would be fired just for talking to me in The Rancher’s Brand.”

Sam started to walk away stopped and turned around. “Thank
you, Sheriff Timbers,” and then went back to the bank.

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The Mystery of Haunted Falls

Several men from the town of Pine Cone and Ben worked hard
in the hot, dusty morning, moving things about, cutting up old
lumber, and tossing bits of concrete in the backs of pickup trucks.
Trouble and Lorena took the cut up lumber, and after taking the
nails out, stacked the lumber in two long but straight rows. If a per-
son didn’t know any better, they could have easily mistaken the
workers for those that had been working in a coal mine because of
the way the dust and grime had stuck to the sweat on their faces
and arms.

It was one o’clock in the afternoon when Ben paused to glance
up. Looking down the street, he saw walking toward them a young
waitress with shoulder-length, sand-colored hair from The Rancher’s
Brand and a gentleman beside her. One had four sacks of food,
while the other one was balancing six trays of drinks. Ben called
a lunch break, and everyone gathered around, getting a cheese-
burger, fries, and a soda pop. After everyone had gotten their food
and drinks, the young waitress went back to The Rancher’s Brand,
giggling all the way at the way everyone looked, while Ben yelled
after her not to tell anyone how they looked, or the next time he
was in, her tip would be a penny.

“Sheriff Timbers? Do you remember me?” the gentleman asked.
Sheriff Ben’s brown eyes studied him for a good long minute
and then said, “Yes, I do. You’ll be Billy Stockton, the young man
who got himself shot in my office. How are you doing?”
“I’ll be honest with you, Sheriff, not too good right now,” Billy
Stockton answered, looking down at the ground. “Is there a place
we can meet and talk later?”
“We’ll be knocking off here at four o’clock. So why don’t we
meet in the park at four-fifteen this afternoon?”
“Thanks, Sheriff Timbers, I’ll be waiting for you.”
Billy sat on a bench, waiting for Sheriff Ben down under a huge
spruce tree in the center of the park. As he waited, his brown eyes
looked at the green grass that had been mowed, the flowers in the
flower gardens, and just how busy the bees were. He watched a
pair of kingfishers perched above the creek taking turns diving in

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David S Dokken

the creek for a chance of getting a trout. Ben showed up, his shirt
stained with sweat, and sat down on a park bench next to Billy just
as pieces of spruce pinecones dropped on them from the top of the
tree, where a red pine squirrel eating what she wanted, discarded
the rest.

“What’s on your mind, Mr. Stockton?”
“Well, first I want to thank you for all you did for me. As you can
tell, I’ve gotten a haircut, and I am on a thirty-six-month probation
period. Also, I really need a job. I know folks around here are very
hesitant to hire anyone who has been involved with a crime, but I
would like a second chance to prove to not only them, but to me,
that I am changing for the better.
“Sheriff Timbers, I thought I did the right thing by turning my-
self in and wanting to turn my life around. What I did, I know was
wrong. You and Agent Northworth kept me out of jail where I know
my life would be totally ruined. Sheriff, I don’t belong in the big cit-
ies. I want a job in a small town, any small town that will treat me
halfway fair and maybe even as an equal.”
“Well, Mr. Stockton, I think I know someone who could use the
help,” Ben said, watching a kingfisher dive into the creek and come
out with a five-inch rainbow trout. “Spruce Hardware is looking for
someone who is hardworking, clean-cut, and can treat customers
with respect. Why don’t we start there right now, and I’ll introduce
you to Mr. Tompkins.”
They got up and walked to the hardware store, whereupon en-
tering, Henry Tompkins did all he could to keep from laughing as
his brown eyes looked Ben up and down. As Sheriff Ben talked with
Mr. Tompkins, Billy Stockton looked around and could not believe
all the things he saw. Not only was it a well-stocked hardware store,
but it also included supplies for ranchers, farmers, and outdoors-
men. He went back up front, knowing he saw only part of the hard-
ware store, and then found out he was hired and would start the
next day at seven thirty sharp. Billy shook Mr. Tompkins’s hand with
a big smile, which even Sheriff Ben hadn’t seen before, and then
went out the door.

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The Mystery of Haunted Falls

“Henry, you are going to have to teach him a lot. I don’t think
he knows the difference between a clothespin and a hammer. Oh,
and thanks for giving him a chance. I truly believe he does want to
change his life around.”

“Ben, I’ll keep you posted on his progress. I can surely use the
help, and he seems eager to learn,” Henry Tompkins replied, start-
ing to laugh, his six foot tall, medium framed body shaking as he
did so.

Billy was waiting outside for Sheriff Ben. He was thinking about
how big the hardware store was, and that it looked as if it had been
a very large barn at one time before being converted over. There
were huge beams, and all the floors and walls were old, weathered,
barn wood. The windows were framed in with double-pane glass
for better insulation and had been divided into four squares by the
wooden plus sign on them.

“Sheriff Timbers, I wanted to thank you for helping me out.”
“All I ask is that you do a good job. Mr. Tompkins and I go back
to when I first started, and besides, he owes me a favor.”
“Sheriff, could I ask one more favor?”
“Sure, Billy, what is it?”
“Is there a place to rent around here? Up there in the moun-
tains by the waterfall, that place is haunted and very spooky some
nights, and at times, during the day as well. I don’t want to return
there to live if I can help it.”
“Mr. Stockton, are you tellin’ me that strange things really hap-
pen at the waterfall and that pond on the backside of Cross Gulch
Ridge?”
“Yes sir, Sheriff, that’s exactly what I’m saying. That is also one
of the reasons I turned myself in, to get away from that place. So, if
you know of a place I can rent, I would be much obliged.”
“Go down the street to the big green house with yellow trim on
your right. Miss Morrison has a small cabin to rent right off of the
creek. Tell her that I sent you to see her.”
“Thanks, Sheriff Timbers!”
The two parted ways, Billy to see about renting a place from
Miss Morrison, and Sheriff Ben back to the work site to see if they

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David S Dokken

would finally be ready to start building the new office on Monday.
That is, if the weather would be nice and the lumber would arrive
by eight o’clock Monday morning. After about twenty minutes
more at the job site, Ben headed for The Spruce Creek Lodge that
Elizabeth and Lorena bought. He walked a bit slower than he nor-
mally did, thinking about how nice it was to have such a nice place
to stay and how the food was out of this world. Also, he had access
to all the outdoor activities which the other guests had, including
the swimming pool and one of Ben’s favorites, horseshoes. How
was he ever going to repay the Mendozas once the sheriff’s office
and his living quarters were finished? Why would the Mendozas
want to do this for him? After all, there were other places in town
that he could rent until the new office was built.

A couple of mosquitoes, upon hearing his thoughts on the good
food, decided it was time to join Ben for supper, with Ben being the
supper! The mosquitoes got in a couple of bites of blood before
being slapped to death by the big, dirty hand, leaving their fresh-
ly drawn supper all over Ben’s arm, neck, and hand. This was the
middle of Colorado. There weren’t supposed to be any mosquitoes
in Colorado. They were supposed to all be up in Minnesota, the
land of twenty million lakes, and, of course, were all over the place
in Vietnam. How did these strays manage to find their way down
here? When you flooded the earth, God, Noah surely could have
left the mosquitoes behind to drown. No one would have missed
them, except maybe those fish and dragonflies who feed on them,
Ben thought, having half-mumbled the words. Suddenly, Sheriff
Ben let out a yell of shock and just about jumped out of his skin and
clothes, as ice-cold water from two water hoses hit him on both
sides, soaking him down to his boots! Both Elizabeth and Lorena
laughed as they cleaned Ben up from all the hot, stuck-on dust.

“Sheriff Timbers, if you want to eat supper tonight, you will be
cleaned up before you enter this house,” Elizabeth said, laughing
so hard that tears were streaming down from her dark brown eyes,
and her coal-black hair started to come out of the bun it was in.

“Ladies,” Ben replied, looking like a wet cat, “a nice hot shower
would have been just fine.”

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The Mystery of Haunted Falls

“You may take a hot shower, Sheriff Timbers, and then we’ll
eat,” Elizabeth said, as the three went into the house, Ben dripping
water from head to toe everywhere he went.

Ben took a long hot shower, and after getting dressed up for
supper, he went downstairs. Out in the backyard the aroma and the
sound of meat sizzling on the grill made his mouth water. Going to
the picnic tables, he sat down with two other men. The first man
was five feet nine inches and very heavy set. He wore black, plas-
tic- rimmed glasses, with hard hazel eyes behind them, and was
bald, with a bushy mustache that had streaks of gray in it. The sec-
ond man stood six foot, with blue eyes, and sandy-colored hair, and
was clean shaven. From overhearing their present conversation, he
found out that they were from one of the Carolinas back East. As
he listened in, he learned that they were out here on vacation, and
at the last moment decided to stay at The Spruce Creek Lodge for
two weeks of relaxation and to do some photography, having just
arrived at the lodge this afternoon, after driving up from Denver
where they had landed. Shortly thereafter, large steaks, large baked
potatoes, broccoli, dinner rolls, and a tossed salad were set before
the men, and they commenced to eating.

Billy Stockton found the house Sheriff Ben had told him about.
It was a very large green house, and the yellow trim was starting
to show some fading from the years of weather. There were scat-
tered ponderosa pines and a few aspen trees around the house.
The yard was very well maintained, and attractive flowers grew in
two half whisky barrels. He recognized the beautiful pansies, but
had no idea what the other flowers were. Walking up to the door,
he took a deep breath and knocked lightly; almost scared the soli-
tude would leave.

A fairly tall, slender, and very attractive lady answered the door.
She had the most beautiful auburn hair he had ever seen, done up
in a bun. Her eyes were deep green, and her smile was gorgeous.
She had on a pastel pink blouse and a blue jean skirt which went
down to her knees.

“May I help you?”

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David S Dokken

Billy Stockton quickly pulled himself together and answered,
“Yes, miss. My name is Billy Stockton, and Sheriff Timbers said you
might have a place I could rent.”

“My name is Erika Morrison, won’t you come in?”
“Thank you, Miss Morrison.”
“Please call me Erika. Now then, you said Sheriff Timbers sent
you?”
“Yes, Miss Morrison, I mean Erika. He helped me out a spell
back, and now it seems he is helping me again. I just got hired on
at the Spruce Hardware Store, and I start tomorrow. I need a place
to stay, but I’m afraid I can’t put any money down. I am sorry, Miss
Morrison. I shouldn’t be wasting your time. Thank you, I’ll be going
now.”
“Mr. Stockton, sit down! I have a place you can rent for $125 a
month. I trust Sheriff Ben’s judgment, and you can pay me half with
your first paycheck and the other half with the second. After that,
I will expect rent with your first paycheck by no later than the fifth
of each month.”
“Miss Erika, you would do that for me? I really appreciate that!”
The two walked outside and across the road to a beautiful cabin.
It was surrounded by tall spruce trees, and it had a nice porch with
a roof over it. Inside was a large living room with a wood-burning
stove, a bathroom with a shower, a twelve foot by ten foot bed-
room, and a nice kitchen. The whole inside was done in knotty pine,
and Billy Stockton felt as if he was going to faint. Everything was
furnished, and it was more than Billy ever imagined. Erika handed
him the key and started to walk to the front door. As she opened
the door, she stopped and looking over her shoulder said, “Supper
will be ready in an hour if you don’t want to cook tonight.”
“Thank you, Miss Morrison, I mean Erika. That is mighty nice of
you to do. I’ll be there,” Billy answered, very humbly.
Billy took a long shower, thinking that so far, his luck to change
for the better was on a roll. He had gotten a job, had a roof over
his head, and had a very beautiful landlady, who was very under-
standing, so far. As he dressed, he decided it would be best not to

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bring up the recent past, for now anyway. Pausing on the porch, he
listened to Spruce Creek as it gurgled its way flowing over the rocks
and a few willow limbs, then it was over to Erika’s house for supper.
Why would she invite him, a total stranger, into her house? Did she
do this for everyone who rented a place from her, or did she want
to know his past and kick him out?

Erika opened the door before he even reached the porch and
invited him in. He stepped through the door and followed her to
the dining room. The dining-room table had a beautiful white lace
tablecloth with two lit candles and for a centerpiece, a vase full of
assorted flowers. The china had pictures on the plates and the salad
bowls. As for the silverware, it was sterling silver, and the drinking
glasses were made out of crystal. He waited until Erika sat down,
then he sat down. They talked as they ate, about the weather, the
upcoming barbeque fundraiser next Saturday in the park, and the
kind of things each liked to do, with the time seeming to fly by. Billy
helped clear the table, trying to think when the last time it was he
had such a great meal, thanking her twice.

They walked to the front door and Erika said, “Mr. Stockton, just
so you know, I do know about your past here in this town,” and Billy
started to feel sick, “but like most folks around these parts, I believe
in giving a person a second chance just like God gave us a second
chance by sending His Son, Jesus, to die for us, so that we can, with
that second chance, go to heaven. All those who believe in Jesus
and confess they are a sinner will go to heaven.”

“Miss Erika, how did you know about my past?”
“I’ve also talked with Sheriff Timbers. You were shot by Hickman
or whatever his name is, and you turned yourself in, hoping for a
new start in life. Billy, I’ve read a lot about you in the newspaper as
well. I hope you’ll have a good evening and that your first day at the
hardware store will be a good one.”
On the way back to the cabin, Billy didn’t know what to think.
If Erika knew about his past, then how many others in the town of
Pine Cone knew? If so, how many would treat him the same, and
how many wouldn’t even pay him the time of day, or worse yet, run
him out of town?

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David S Dokken

Crawling into bed and with his head on his pillow listening to
the creek, he started to reflect on the day. The sheriff had been glad
to help him out, he had gotten a job right away, something he didn’t
think he would get, and then to get this nice cabin to rent, plus a
landlady who could really cook. Billy started to wonder how much
longer his luck would hold out. Lady Luck had been good to him so
far, so why should she change on him now? She dealt the cards for
the day, and he played the hand he was dealt. Since turning himself
in, they were all winners, but what would he do if Lady Luck dealt
him a bad hand? It was bound to happen sooner or later, and would
she, Lady Luck, give him a second chance, and if not, who would?
What was it Erika had said about a second chance with this God and
Jesus business? He didn’t believe in anything really except luck. Yet,
the way Erika was treating him and talked about God giving second
chances, well, after a while, he might have to ask more questions.

For right, now he was on a roll. Then there was this nice cabin
with a warm bed and a new job starting in the morning. How could
it get any better than this? He could still taste the fantastic chicken
dinner in his mouth. When was the last time he had eaten such a
tasty dinner, let alone with a lovely lady like that? It sure did beat
cooking and eating beans and half-spoiled meat cooked over an
open fire. Not that cooking over an open camp fire was a bad thing,
just the half-spoiled meat that Howard brought him didn’t taste all
that good. He closed his eyes to a choir of frogs singing, singing to
the music of the creek as it flowed by. It was just like being next to
Haunted Falls Creek, except he had a roof over his head. Here, there
would not be the spooky fog or noises to wake him and cause him
to shake with fear. Somewhere close by, an owl called out, warn-
ing rabbits, mice, and cats that the game of survival was on. Falling
asleep, he started dreaming about what his new life would be like.

12