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    CLJobe
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

David C. McLavic - 27. Chapter 27

Above the tree line was a grassy area bordered by a stream. According to Bobby, the stream was formed by the melted snow and ended in Crystal Lake. I made a mental note to check out Crystal Lake.

“Is this water safe to drink?”

‘I don’t know. Our water is tied into the water system at the Lodge.” Now, I knew the name of that building where I had breakfast this morning.

I sat on the ground, looking around. The grass hadn’t been cut for a long time, so it provided some cushioning. Bobby sat beside me, asking, “What amenities does the Lodge provide?”

“There are showers, with hot water for the men and women. There is a room with washers for washing clothes. The room is warm and there are lines for hanging clothes. There are also toilets but some people have a toilet in their home tied into a septic system.”

“How many people live here?”

“There are several that live close by but most live south of here.”

“Do you pay to use the facilities of the Lodge?”

“It is included in our monthly fee. Drinks and food are extra.”

The more Bobby talked, the better I liked this area. I just needed to bring the one man who could talk to the trees, Uncle Joe.

Walking back to the Lodge, “Bobby, I am going to go home but I’ll be back. I have a friend who needs to see this place.”

I know if these trees had a spirit as stated, Uncle Joe might be able to talk to them. He has an uncanny way of knowing things that only the Indians know. I want his blessings if I plan on moving here.

I left the next morning from Mrs. Cummings for home. Nine hours later I pulled into my parking place, Beth Ann was there to greet me. That evening I brought Dad up to date on my travels, and Uncle Joe just sat there listening.

In the morning after breakfast, Uncle Joe and I headed for Mrs. Cummings.

Copyright © 2023 CLJobe; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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On 1/23/2025 at 2:19 PM, weinerdog said:

Can't wait to hear what Uncle Joe has to say

Have you known someone who appears to be able to determine something that you never thought about? One day my father and I went for a walk in the woods, my dad stopped and took some of the root of this small bush. It was Sassafras root. My dad is long gone, but I still can taste that tea. I had to include it in my story.

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