Premonitions

Chapter 1-2

Daniel did call. Mellie’s contractor recommended he talk to a Mr. Leeds, who owned a contracting business in town. Daniel did, and Mr. Leeds agreed to come up to the house. When he arrived, he listened to what Daniel wanted, checked out the two rooms—and two days later called him with a price. While it wasn’t cheap, it was better than Daniel had feared, so he gave the man the go-ahead. The next day the crew arrived and set to work.

While he enjoyed the eye candy, the noise was another thing. By mid-morning Daniel decided to get out of the house and explore the full extent of the property that belonged to the house—and to him. He made a couple of sandwiches, put them and a sketchpad, and his pocket recorder—to make verbal notes if necessary—into his backpack, and took off.

He remembered exploring the area with Mellie when they were children and his parents had brought them up to visit their grandparents. Then, the trees had seemed to tower over him, and the floor of the forest that surrounded the house had held fascinating detritus—rocks, fungi, fallen leaves, bits of bark, and of course lots of bugs. Now the trees didn’t seem quite so big, although they were hardly the small ones he encountered in the city.

As he wandered, he stopped often to sketch something that caught his eye. Later, from the lengthening shadows it was well after midday, he found a small clearing and sat with his back against a tree to eat lunch.

When he finished, he went in search of the stream that he recalled ran along one edge of the property. He found it easily enough and chortled when he saw it. It’s definitely not the river that I pretended it was as a kid, when I envisioned traveling down it on a homemade raft. “My Tom Sawyer dreams.” He shook his head.

He just about jumped out of his skin when someone said, “There’s nothing wrong with dreams.” Whirling around, he saw a man standing a few yards away. He was of average height, with what appeared to be auburn-streaked brown hair that hung loose around his face, touching his shoulders. As he was in the shadows under the trees, it was all Daniel could tell about him at the moment. “You do know you’re trespassing,” the man said, his rich voice stressing ‘trespassing’.

“Not at all, since it’s my property.”

“Really? Then you must be the young Mr. Chase.”

“I am. And you are?”

“Griffin.”

“Like the mythological beast?”

“Yes.”

“Okay. First name or last?”

“First. Griffin Pryce.”

“Do you live around here?”

“I do.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow in question. “Where?”

“The other side of the mountain.”

“That,” Daniel replied with a trace of amusement, “covers a lot of territory.”

“It does,” Griffin agreed, finally stepping into the sunlight. He was wearing distressed jeans and a tight, dark blue T-shirt that had seen better days. Much to Daniel’s surprise, Griffin had a bow slung over one shoulder.

“Playing at being Legolas?” Daniel asked.

Griffin snorted softly and his deep blue eyes seemed to sparkle with amusement. “The dude looks good on film. Real life, he probably doesn’t have the balls to kill a rabbit, to say the least of deer or bear.”

“Okay. Back up. You’re out here hunting?”

“I’m not carrying this,” Griffin tapped the bow, “as a fashion accessory. And before you get on your high horse, I only kill to eat, or in extreme cases for self-protection. Like if I run into an angry bear.”

Daniel shivered at that last thought, casting a furtive glance around the area. Griffin smiled, telling him that he was safe enough. “Black bears avoid humans whenever possible, unless they’re hungry and you’re packing lunch or supper, or have an open trash bin at your house.”

“I already ate my lunch, so I’m safe,” Daniel told him with a smile. “And the trashcan is in the garage.” He paused momentarily before saying, “So you’re hunting deer?”

“Nope. Right now I’m talking to a nice, if somewhat naïve young man.”

“If you mean I don’t know much about the mountains or the forest, you’re right. I grew up back east, in Cleveland. Until I inherited the house, I only came out here to visit my grandparents occasionally during the summer, or to see my sister after she and her husband moved to Denver.” Daniel paused, looking at Griffin. “What makes you think I’m nice?”

Griffin shrugged. “Instinct, I suppose. You seem to be polite. You’re smart enough to ask questions but you didn’t act like I was crazy when you found that I use a bow to hunt.”

“Beats the hell out of using a gun. At least with the bow, you’re one-on-one with the animal and it has a fighting chance of getting away.”

“Actually, I’m as deadly with a bow as most hunters are with guns. But then I have to be if I’m going to eat more than vegetables.”

Smirking, Daniel replied, “There are such things as supermarkets, in case no one’s informed you about them.”

“Do not get me on a rant about what they sell that passes for meat.”

Daniel nodded. “I won’t. So.” He studied Griffin’s muscular body, trying not to be too obvious about it. “You’re totally self-sufficient?”

“I am.”

“What about your house? Does it have electricity? Running water?”

“Yes.”

“So you must live somewhere close to town.”

“Define close. I’m much further away from it than you are, because I don’t like living near other people. My energy is solar. And unless it’s a very bad winter, I’ve got electric lights and as you put it, running water.”

“And when it does get bad?”

“Think pioneers. I have a fireplace, a couple of lanterns. There’s a stream close by for fresh water if what’s in the cistern freezes. And if the temperature really drops and the stream ices over, I melt snow. I’ve got a cold cellar, and a septic tank.” Griffin spread his hands. “All the things I need to survive since I don’t mind living rougher than most other people.”

“Solar panels. That’s not a bad idea.”

“Try them.”

“Try it, I’ll like it?” Daniel said, grinning.

“Exactly,” Griffin agreed seriously, making Daniel wonder if he had a clue about the commercial years back that played off that phrase. “I should leave you now,” Griffin said. “I suspect you have plenty to keep you busy.”

“Not sure about that, but if you’re hunting your dinner you won’t find it standing here talking to me.”

“True enough.” Griffin smiled, turned to go, then asked, “What’s your first name?”

“Daniel. I thought you knew, since you know my last name.”

“I was aware that your grandfather had died and he told me once that he was going to leave the house to his grandson, but he never actually mentioned your name.”

“You were friends?”

“Acquaintances. He allowed me to hunt on his land in exchange for some of what I killed.” Griffin smiled. “He was partial to rabbits for stew. And quail.”

“Maybe I should make the same deal with you.”

“If you wish.”

Daniel thought about it, but then made a face. “I’m not sure I could handle skinning and gutting a dead animal, so I’ll pass.”

With a laugh, Griffin replied, “You are a city boy.” And then he left, fading into the shadows between the trees.

A strange man, but he seems nice enough. I wonder if he really does live as rough as he implied or if he was just playing me. Chances are I’ll never find out, since from what he said he lives pretty far from here.

Daniel returned home, stopping at the edge of the yard to look at the house. The contractors were working faster than he’d expected. They’d already removed the parts of the walls between each set of windows to create two large ones. The space was, at the moment, covered with heavy plastic, awaiting the new window frames and glass.

It’s going to be perfect for what I need. A couple more days and I can start a new painting. And Griffin would be a wonderful subject. Presuming I see him again, which is probably unlikely, maybe I’ll ask him to pose for a few sketches. I can see him as a medieval lord out hunting. Make his hair longer than it is now, put him in a tunic. That could work. Won’t happen though, I’m sure.

By then he was at the back door. He let himself in and hurried upstairs to find the construction crew was finished for the day and cleaning up the last of the debris. The carpeting was gone, revealing a hardwood floor, and the wall between the two bedrooms had been taken down, with only two studs remaining. The foreman told him those would be removed the next day, and the finishing work done to the ceiling and floor to eliminate any indication where the wall had been. “The windows will be in as well,” the man informed him. “We put a rush on getting them since the weather is supposed to turn colder within the week.”

“Thank you!”

“No problem. One of the joys of living in the mountains, we get the cold well before they do down on the flatlands.”

“Denver’s hardly flatlands.”

“Compared to here, you bet it is. Anyway, we’ll be back at eight in the morning to finish up.”

The crew took off, and after changing into sweats, Daniel went downstairs to fix supper.