places: ashes

I took a hike in the woods in the morning.  I huffed up a side of a mountain with my rifle and binoculars.  Once on the east side I surveyed Clayton’s property.  His place was gone. No more.

I was thinking that I was going to see it under some kind of federal surveillance. There wasn’t anyone in sight.  In fact, Clayton’s house was no more. Clayton’s house had been burned to the ground.

I could guess why.  The Russian or one of his red comrades came back and torched the place to destroy any evidence that Clayton had on the property.

I had Clayton’s black book. It was a good thing that I went there that night...even if it did cost me.

I looked down at my injured hand and thought about that doctor. 

“Digit” I spoke out loud and chuckled.

I took my time while perched up there. I felt safe up there.  I’d had some time to collect my thoughts.  I wasn’t in a hurry.  I pulled a sandwich from my pack and had a little picnic amid the quiet there.

I saw a buck just down the hill. I picked up my rifle and put him in my sites. It was a beautiful creature. I didn’t pull the trigger.  I just watched it slowly walk away. I’d never killed an animal. I’d never been hunting. I was a city kid trained to kill a different kind of game.

I made my way down the mountain. To me visiting Larkin’s and Clayton’s places were not a waste of time. I had to cross them off my list so I didn’t have to look back.  I didn’t want to feel as if I was overlooking anything.  Even if I had, there was no going back now. Tomorrow was going to be a different place.  Tomorrow I’ll be walking into the unknown.