by David Kersey
CHAPTER 14 – Precaution
The four sat in the Arabica lounge, having just finished the second daily dose of the NIL.
“Van, you were quite prophetic. You said it would be hard to keep our little venture out of the public eye. These last two days have brought more visitors up here than in the whole time I’ve been here. And there’s more coming tomorrow.”
“I am afraid the television people will cause an explosion of interest. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“Maybe so, maybe not. It’s just a tiny little public television station without much of an audience. But I will admit it was a mistake having them interview the four of us. If you are up to it, I’d like to make a lap around the property. Exercise is still a part of the regimen toward optimal health, you know.”
“Absolutely, I’d like that, let’s go for a hike. When we return I’d like to see the route to Atlanta you recommended. I have to leave bright and early tomorrow morning.”
“Surely. Would it be possible to use your car after we return? I’d like to show the ladies a couple of things. There will still be an hour of daylight left. And ladies, you will need to change into your sneakers before we hike.”
Van responded in the affirmative about the usage of his car; just as long as he would be the driver.
While Tracy and Namanda left to change shoes, Joshua explained to Van the situation with the Mehras defection; and that Tracy was more or less in the dark about it. Van shook his head, fully understanding that the entrapment the Mehras faced in India would also happen in the good old U S of A, once Namanda’s talents were discovered.
“What are you going to do?” Van asked
“Hang on.” Joshua dialed his cell phone. “Autry, do you still have that old pickup truck at your house, and if so, do you think I could borrow it for a few days?”
“Yeah, it will gitcha where ya wanna go, but it ain’t nothin’ to look at. And hey, you got a shipment in from Arizona today. You come git the truck and pick up the stuff while you’re here.”
“We’ll be there in an hour and a half. Also, on my entry road, there are stanchions that appear to have anchored a gate at one time. Do you know what happened to the gate? Do you know where I mean, down by the highway?”
“Yep, there was a gate there when the Park Service was usin’ the property. But I have no idea what they done with it.”
“I imagine they kept it, but I am going to need a gate. I’ll explain it to you later. See you in a little while.”
Van noticed the hyper energy level of Namanda. She was skipping up the eastern slope with the ease of a gazelle. Joshua explained the history of the area as they climbed; not that the ladies would know who Daniel Boone was, but he expounded anyway. When they reached the clearing at the summit that exposed the panoramic eastern vista the ladies gasped in appreciation. Tracy commented that it was not unlike the terrain of her home in southwestern Belgium. Joshua asked Van to escort Tracy on to the western turn and to wait for him and Namanda to join them at the precipitous drop. He waited until they were out of sight.
“See the initials in this tree?” He asked Namanda.
“Yeah, D.B.”
“Follow me closely. I put the initials there to mark this exact spot. We are going to carefully walk down the slope toward the river. If you find yourself slipping, reach out for a branch. It’s fairly steep but we won’t have to go far.”
Joshua led Namanda down the mountainside for approximately fifty feet through the tangle of tree limbs and bushes. He stopped at a narrow steppe and turned to his right. He held onto Namanda’s hand and led her for a few more paces.
“Look. Do you see it?” Joshua pointed at the upward slope.
“See what? Oh wait…..it’s an opening in the ground.”
“It’s a cave. A tiny entrance….you have to crawl in, but once past a few feet on your hands and knees, it opens up to where you can stand. I don’t know of any living person that knows about this place, other than you and me. I’m showing it to you in case you ever should need a hiding place. So it will be our own little secret. Think you could find this place by yourself?”
Namanda did not answer. Instead she parted the undergrowth that partially obscured the opening and crawled inside. Joshua waited for a few moments.
“I am in here and I can stand up. How far does it go? It’s dark in here. haHA.” Namanda yelled loudly with a slight reverberation.
“Come back out, Namanda. Be careful, it’s awkward getting out, so you will want to come out feet first to keep from rolling down the hill.”
Using branches as levers, they pulled their way back to the ridge, then joined the others. Namanda placed her toes over the edge of the cliff and looked down the two hundred foot sheer drop. “haHA. I love this.”
Once the adults were over their fright of Namanda’s bravery, or perhaps it was naivety, Joshua led the party the rest of the circuit back to the barn.
“We are going to go into town, so ladies, be thinking about what you may need for yourselves. It’s a small little store in a little town so don’t expect much. Use the facilities if you have to and we’ll pull out in five minutes.”
“Turn right here. This is US Highway 27, Van. Stay on it all the way to Knoxville, then pick up Interstate 75 south which will take you to the Atlanta airport. It can take anywhere from four and a half to five hours, depending on traffic. You’ll time the trip through Knoxville perfectly….after the morning rush and before the lunch traffic.”
In five minutes they reached the small hamlet of Whitley City. City, of course, was a misnomer, it having only 1,125 residents. It was a town of stagnation, stuck in time, with a dated Kroger grocery store that had seen better decades, a Rite-Aid Pharmacy, Martin’s General Store, and little else, other than the police station and court house combination. The tiny government center served the whole of McCreary County, which county contained merely 18,000 inhabitants, and sadly twelve percent of them were unemployed. Such was the domain of Sheriff Autry Kane.
Autry greeted his guests, as did his pseudo-deputized German shepherd named Smiley. Named after Gene Autry’s sidekick in many films, Smiley Burnette. After exchanging pleasantries with Joshua’s guests, he marched the entourage out the back door of his office and showed them his rust bucket…..a 1988 Ford pickup truck.
“She runs like a top, but her skin’s seen much better days.”
“Thank you, Autry, I will make sure she is pampered. Might put a little NIL in her tank.”
“Nah, don’t do that. Save the NIL for folks that need it.”
“We’re going to make a stop at Martin’s. By the way, did you mail off a carton to Van’s California address?”
“Yeah, I did. It just might be waitin’ for him when he gets back. I’m fixin’ to look into that gate thing. I’ll call you when I find out somethin’.”
Gizelle Martin, pouring over her delivery receipts, noticed movement coming from her desk monitor. She expanded security screen number two and saw the two ladies in aisle one, the cosmetics and toiletries area. She shrunk that screen and expanded screen one which captured most of her parking lot. She abruptly rose from her office chair and entered the sales area of the general store. After casually walking past the two women strangers she paused at the glassed front door, then called the Sheriff.
“Autry, are you letting someone use your truck?”
“Yes, Gizelle, I am. Don’t be concerned. You ain’t havin’ a problem, are you?”
“Well who in the hell does this guy think he is, dressed like that. You know what a robe means to me, don’t you?”
“He’s alright. I know him. And no, they are not there to steal from ya. He told me he was gonna make a stop there.”
“Well who in the hell is he?”
Autry thought a moment before answering. In lieu of the television station episode, and with strangers coming in tomorrow that would be taken to the barn, he let it out. It was just going to be a matter of time anyway. “You know about the NIL, righ
t, Gizelle?”
Gizelle looked at Janie, her cashier. “That’s what Janie gives Jeff, isn’t it?”
“Well the man you’re askin’ about makes it. The man wearin’ the robe.”
“Uh huh.” Gizelle continued to look at her cashier who was busy keeping an eye on the two customers. Jeff Cook, Janie’s no count husband, had been an absolute monster. Until recently, she had banned him from the store. She contemplated letting Janie go because of him. One too many black eyes and bruises worn by her best employee. But then, miraculously, Jeff made a one-eighty. Janie said it was the NIL that did it. Gizelle looked again through the front door. The Jesus-man was standing at the driver’s door of a late model sedan, obviously talking with someone inside that vehicle. “Well, alright then, get your large butt in here and spend those big bucks you make, you hear me?”
Gizelle joined Janie behind the counter and made herself look busy as her two customers arrived with their purchases.
“Where ya’ll from?” She said in manufactured Southern hospitality.
“Oh, hello. We are visiting here. We came up from Florida,” Tracy said truthfully.
“Where ya stayin’?”
Namanda stepped on Tracy’s foot. “You know, I really don’t know. So much of this country looks alike. It’s out in the woods somewhere. We just got here,” Tracy said after taking the hint.
“I see, well, you have a wonderful visit, and thank you for shopping Martin’s General Store. Hope to see you again before you leave.”
Gizelle and Janie watched the two ladies exit the store. “Janie, quick, go look at the guy wearing a robe out there.”
“Oh, my goodness, Mrs. Martin, who is that?”
“That’s the man who makes your NIL for you.”
“OH MY GOD,” Janie screamed as she watched the two vehicles pull onto the highway. “OH MY GOD, IT’S HOLY WATER!”