Hauntings (17 page)

              “Where do these fools come from?” He asked aloud.
But then again their tuition dollars plus a few federal research grants pay your way don't they, Oswald?
He thought. Yep leaving Leicester behind for awhile to find himself, to find his center once again, before returning to the fray is just what he needs.

              Oswald felt the book calling to him. Somehow he felt it may contain the answer to what he had seen in the woods today. In one way or another it may explain how a flock of sparrows could vanish from sight without rhyme nor reason. He sensed something alive about the book, some entity within the binding of the book was demanding his attention.

              The rain was striking the roof with increasing force. The wind outside blew violently scattering the wet leaves and bending the trees. Oswald could see now how the large tree laying across the cabin's yard could have fallen. He worried about another tree falling and this time striking the cabin.

              He remembered the generator running in the root cellar.
How much gas could it have left?
He wondered. Oswald hurried to the kitchen, lifted the trap door and peered into the root cellar. The generator was putting away, the incandescent bulb hanging from the ceiling cast its light. He wondered if he wouldn't be safer staying in the cellar until the storm passed. He propped the trap door up and climbed down the ladder. He unscrewed the gas cap from the generator's tank and poured the remaining gas into the tank filling it. He recapped the tank and decided to let the generator run. Oswald felt drawn to the center of the concrete circle. He walked into the ring of concrete without thinking. He squatted down on his haunches. He felt a dynamism emanating from beneath the concrete. He lay supine, centered on the circle, his head pointing north, his arms out, one pointing to the east the other to the west. His body tingled with electric current. He heard the concrete hum. He wanted to submerge into the concrete sinking deep into whatever lay below, but some part of him rose up in rebellion.

              “No!” He shrieked at the top of his lungs, breaking the circle's spell long enough for him to scramble up from the concrete slab and climb up the ladder. He felt some force pulling at him from behind, slowing him, trying to keep him in the cellar. He made it to the top of the ladder and let the trap door drop shut with the crack of dry wood against dry wood. A small cloud of dust rose from the crevices between the planks of the floor.               Oswald's hurried to the living room and sat at the desk wondering what the hell just happened to him. He gazed absently at the Druid tome. Then the sparrows came to mind. First swooping  down low in one direction then up and then down again in another, last the birds faded and were gone. There was something about this sequence that seemed familiar, something about sparrows. He was glad to have something to think about other than what he experienced in the root cellar. He used the sparrows to block out whatever it is residing beneath the concrete circle.

              He wished he had access to the Orney library on campus. He needed to do some research on the subject. It was obvious that Dixon didn't have a library, as far as Oswald knew the townsfolk couldn't find a book if they performed a house to house search Glad to have a reason to leave the cabin, Oswald hurried to the car and got his road atlas, brought it back inside before opening it up on top of the kitchen table. He searched for the closest town that might have the population to justify a public library. Sterling, the county seat of Whiteside county with a population of fifteen thousand souls might just be the place. Not too far away, looked to be a straight shot west, no more than fifty miles away.  “that's it then,” He said to himself and collected his car keys and wallet and left for Sterling.

              It was an overcast day, but not as cold as Oswald expected following yesterday's storm. He didn't bother to lock the cabin. He couldn't imagine anyone coming to the place uninvited, maybe an interested raccoon, or squirrel searching for some nuts.
They might do better searching in town
he mused. Oswald followed the tire tracks and then the dirt road out of the woods to Bloody Gulch, and Bloody Gulch to Galena. He took Galena past downtown Dixon to the highway where he headed west to Sterling.

              It began at first as a  sprinkle, a light shower at first then the rain came down in force. “Must be the monsoon season,” he said to himself as he switched on the headlights and windshield wipers. He wished he had a cup of coffee for the road. He knew he could have stopped at Sam & Ella's before taking the highway, but he didn't feel up to being social just now. Almost an our passed before Oswald saw the sign advising the Sterling exit was only a mile and a half away. He eased into the right lane slowing for the exit. Once off the highway he followed the sign advising Sterling was only another five miles to the south.

              He was glad to see a McDonald's near the exit. He entered the drive through lane and ordered a large coffee with sugar., he then stopped at the first gas station to fill up his tank and to ask for directions to the library. The man behind the counter took his money and shared with pride that Sterling not only had a library, but that thanks to a wealthy benefactor the town library also housed the public gymnasium.

              “A healthy body and a healthy mind is what we say around here.”

              “I see, “ Oswald replied, then thanked the man for his help and was on his way to the memorial library and gymnasium in the center of town. He couldn't have missed the place. It was the largest building in town, larger than the courthouse, larger than the combined fire and police station. He hoped the library held some useful information.

              The library was an old stone structure from a bygone era. He parked across the street and entered through the main doors Where he was presented with the choice of going upstairs or down. He guessed that downstairs was the gymnasium, and upstairs held the library. At the top of the stairs a pair of carved wooden doors blocked his way. On Each door was carved one half of an ancient tree so that only when the doors were closed could one see the entire tree.  The tree of the knowledge of good and evil he supposed. Oswald pushed the door open and was pleased to find that the doors opened at the librarians desk.

              “It's good to see a new face in town. How may I help you?” The librarian, a young brunette woman with large dark brown eyes, sitting behind the desk asked. She stood up as Oswald approached.

              “I'm not a member of your library, but I  was hoping to do a little research today if I could.”

              “we're open to the public, but of course you can't withdraw any of our books without buying a membership.”

              “No, of course not. I was wondering if you could help me. I'm looking for information about sparrows, not so much about the actual bird itself, but about local myths and legends pertaining to the bird.”

              “Hmm, local legends, she repeated under her breath. I think Murphy's History of the Sauk may be of some help. I would look in the section under Sauk shamans and mysticism.” she offered cheerfully.

              “Sauk, what is that?”

              “Oh the Sauk were the Indians from this area. You know chief Blackhawk, the Blackhawk war. Did you know Abraham Lincoln was a soldier in the Blackhawk war?”

              “No, I'm afraid I didn't even know of the war.”

              “Not many people do. It's a real shame. What has happened to education in this country?” she asked rhetorically, “Come with me, I'll get the book for you.” Oswald followed the young librarian to the research section of the library. She found the shelf she wanted selected a book and handed it to Oswald.

              “Here you go this should be of some help. I'll keep looking and see if we have anything else that might be of interest to you.”

              “Thank you.” Oswald replied then selected a seat at the narrow table placed between the book shelves and sat down.               Murphy's History of the Sauk proved to be just the book to wet his appetite. Not only did it cover the strife between the Sauk and the settlers, local politics, and of course the Black hawk war, but it also discussed Sauk beliefs, traditions, and to a lesser extent their religious rituals. Sparrows apparently did play a part  in the practice of the shamans. The book stated that the Shaman's believed that a certain gathering of sparrows indicated an opening, a portal between the world of men and the worlds of the old gods. If such a gathering was witnessed the shaman would perform sacred rituals to close the portal. Murphy didn't give any details as to what such a ritual might entail.  Oswald closed the book, and let what he had just read be absorbed. He could see parallels between the practices of the Sauk and the Druids. He wondered just how closely they matched. He carried the book to the librarian's desk handed it to the librarian, thanking her again for her help.

              “I did a search to see if I could find anything else to help you and I came up to a reference to Druids and sparrows, but I couldn't find any other details. No title, no author, no ISBN, I think you would have to go to a pretty specialized private library to find out what the reference is about. The library at the national headquarters of the Theosophical Society would probably have a copy if any place did, but they're a good hundred and fifty miles away. I'm sorry I couldn't be of any more help.”

              “You helped me more than you know,” Oswald replied and then asked her for the address of the Theosophical Society. She handed him a slip of paper. “I thought you might want they're address so I copied it down for you,” Oswald thanked her again and then turned to leave the library.

              He noticed no image was carved on this side of the doors. He pushed his way through the doors, followed the steps downstairs and exited to the street. The rain had stopped, the air was cool and smelt clean and fresh.  He crossed the street to his parked car before climbing in he paused and wondered if there was anything he needed to buy while he was in town, that he couldn't get in Dixon. Nothing came to mind.

              Oswald climbed into his car and started the long drive back to Castle Rock Woods and the cabin. He has begun thinking about it as his cabin, no longer Aleister Dyer's but Oswald Hubbard's cabin. After all when was the last time Dyer stepped foot in those woods? Years ago. Oswald realized this made no sense, The cabin and much of the surrounding woods legally belonged to Aleister Dyer, no matter how much the cabin felt like home.
Perhaps he could make Aliester an offer to buy the cabin,
he wondered.

              By the time Oswald exited the highway and entered Galena Avenue he was ready for a meal. He parked in front of Sam & Ella's Roadside Cafe, hoping to have a relaxing supper in peace and quiet. In other words he hoped the natives would leave him alone tonight. He got out of the Volvo and walked to the door. He peered inside, the place appeared to be empty. This looked promising. Oswald opened the door and walked in.

              “Freida, Ed anybody here.” He called out as he sat at his favorite stool at the counter. Ed came out of the kitchen.

              “What do you want?”

              “I want some food. What do you have?” Oswald replied.

              “Where's my daughter?” Ed suddenly demanded. Leaning over the counter his breath hot in Oswald's face.

              “I don't know. How would I know?” Oswald replied getting up from the stool and backing up a step.

              “She said she was going to the cabin yesterday and she hasn't come home since!” Ed said accusing.

              “I haven't seen her. I didn't see her yesterday and I've been in Sterling most of today.  Have you called the police?”

              ”Wouldn't you like to know?”

              “Yeah, I would. Have you called the police?” Oswald repeated. Freida came from the kitchen and stood behind the counter next to Ed.

              “We called the sheriff yesterday. He said she wasn't gone long enough to be missing and even if she had been gone forty-eight hours he wouldn't spend that much time looking as she's away from Dixon more often than not. He told us not to worry.”

              “He's sure no Sheriff Taylor,” Oswald replied.

              “This isn't Mayberry either,” Ed stated flatly.
              “Did anyone go out looking for her?” Oswald asked.

              “Did you call the local hospital to see if she was admitted to the emergency room at least?”

              “No,” Ed replied his eyes downcast.

              “Damn Ed, don't take it out on me then. Like I said I haven't seen her since I was here last. Why don't you go ahead and close shop for today and call around, see if Clara has shown up somewhere. If not maybe she did decide to hit the road again,” Oswald said, turning away from the counter. “If you want me, I'll be at the cabin,” he said as he walked out the door. Still hungry Oswald wished he had stopped in Sterling for something to eat. He didn't look forward to starting a fire in the wood stove and cooking. Then he had an idea, he'd stop by Jakes tavern, Jake may sell sandwiches or nachos or pizza or some other salty something to increase his alcohol sales. Oswald pushed to door open and walked into the bar. The place was dimly lit and country music blared from the juke box in the back. Two men were playing pool at a coin operated pool table. Several people were sitting at the bar, but the bar wasn't full. Oswald took a place at the end of the bar where he could have a good view of the other patrons. He assumed the tattooed man working behind the bar was Jake.