Chapter 3
A crisp breeze whispered through the open windows of the cabin, carrying the scent of wood smoke. Sarah and Everett woke to a shared yearning to delve into the secrets hidden within the map and journal.
They both put on their robes and warm slippers and headed downstairs to the kitchen. The air was chilly, and Sarah, sensing Everett’s focus, brewed a pot of warming Chamomile tea. The scent mingled with the wood smoke, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.
‘Would you like a cup, Ev?’ Sarah called out, approaching the table with two steaming mugs.
‘Sounds perfect, Sarah,’ Everett replied, his gaze still fixed on the map. He paused, adding, ‘Thank you.’
‘I’ll feed the critters before I sit down,’ offered Sarah.
The ‘Critters’ consisted of Chesney, who was still curled up on the rug in front of the stove, and right next to him were his feline buddies, Gillis, Nell, and Luna. All four got along well, but Gillis and Chesney were tight. Everett called them his boys, and they were always ready for some affectionate petting. The sound of their food hitting their bowls had them eagerly waiting for Sarah to dish out their morning meal.
With a few deft pokes at the fire, Everett coaxed the flames into a higher dance, banishing the chill from the air. ‘Nice job, Ev!’ Sarah exclaimed as she joined him at the table. Taking a sip of her tea, she glanced at Everett with a mixture of excitement and apprehension. ‘Ready to take a look at the map?’
Everett met her gaze, a resolute glint in his eyes. ‘Let’s do it,’ he said, his voice filled with determination.
The wood stove, stoked the night before, had done its job. The journal pages, once damp and fragile, lay relatively dry on the table. However, it would be several more hours before they could confidently declare it ready for a thorough examination. They treated it with the utmost care, meticulously turning each page and blotting any remaining moisture with soft linen towels.
The map, on the other hand, was ready to reveal its secrets. Spread open on the table, its once vibrant colors dulled by water damage, lay like a silent puzzle waiting to be solved.
With careful fingers, they traced the faded lines, pressing down the delicate creases. Over the next couple of hours and several cups of tea, Sarah and Everett scrutinized every inch of the map. Everett, momentarily transported back to his days as a topographic surveyor in the army, meticulously studied the details, his brow furrowed in concentration. He traced the river with his finger, muttering to himself as he examined the faded markings.
At one point, he pointed to a particular spot on the map along the river. Despite the map being dry, the writing was still a bit blurred. ‘Sarah,’ he finally spoke, his voice laced with a hint of excitement, ‘do we still have that illuminated magnifying glass?’
Sarah’s head snapped up, her eyes mirroring Everett’s enthusiasm. ‘Yes, of course! It’s in the hall pie safe.’ She disappeared into the hallway, returning moments later with the magnifying glass in hand.
Everett switched on the small light on the magnifying glass and carefully held it over the map. His pen danced across a notepad, diligently transcribing the information revealed in the light.
‘Sarah,’ he exclaimed, his voice filled with a thrill, ‘this is the Sentinel Cypress River! And… there, Whitey’s Fish Camp!’
Recognition dawned on Sarah’s face. ‘Whitey ‘Alligator’ Yates! He came to your nursery a few years back, didn’t he? The one who lost his homestead to the highway?’
“He introduced himself and told me what he was doing and we instantly connected, as I had done something quite similar” Sarah sensed the excitement in Ev’s recollections. “He was interested in Medicinal Herbs, which I grew a lot of, and over the next couple of years, we became good friends. I drove out to his homestead and it was amazing. This guy did it right, using permaculture and organic gardening techniques he learned from Mother Earth News. He bartered excess eggs and vegetables with his neighbors for fresh milk and mullet dip and achieved the self-security many only dream of.”
A look of melancholy shown on Ev’s face, “Then the shit hit the fan! Whitey had heard talk when in town about a new expressway coming to the area near his property. He attended several town meetings with neighbors and other folks to try to keep the planned route of the highway away from his land. To no avail, a certified letter arrived in the mail. Whitey’s property was ground zero for the project, and the state would be purchasing the five acres by Eminent Domain. His heart was torn out of his chest! All that work, down the drain…a dream turned into a nightmare! The state gave him a generous payout for his property and he disappeared for a while. He managed to rebuild his life on the Sentinel Cypress River, near Osceola Spring. He now lives off the grid, but his fish camp is a welcome haven and resupply stop for the few who paddle the river.’
Renewed focus returned to his face as Ev continued scrutinizing the map. ‘Sarah,’ he said, ‘this is the route Tom was using when he disappeared! Buttonbush Creek, leading to the Sentinel Cypress River, and then… Renegade Bayou.’
“A chilling silence descended upon them. Renegade Bayou—the name was synonymous with danger and mystery, a place few dared to venture into, and even fewer returned from.
Sarah and Everett exchanged a look, their excitement tempered with a newfound concern. The map clearly showed the path Tom had taken, but whether it would lead them to answers or heartbreak remained to be seen.
‘It’s crucial to connect what the journal reveals with the information on this map,’ Everett finally said, his voice firm with resolve. He closed the notepad and reached for the drying journal, their shared journey truly beginning as they turned the first page.
~ Chapter 2: Unearthing Secrets ~ Chapter 4 : Whispers from the Past ~