The Seventh Mountain (8 page)

About an hour later the sun was beginning to
set. A young girl, of about fifteen or so, got out of the pool. Her
hip-length black hair clung to her back like a bit of wet rope. She
walked over to the table where the man was, (who had been tossing
the coins), picked up a towel and dried her face. The couple got up
and followed her. They passed the table where Steve and Shirley
were.

The man paused. “They were game tokens. Your
boys can use them in the arcade. I’m leaving tomorrow and can’t use
them. I figured I might as well give them to someone who can.”
Steve nodded his understanding and the man resumed his pace,
following his wife.

Steve thought to
himself,
That man has a good heart. I wish
there were more people in the world like him.

His thoughts turned to
Virginia. Virginia promised the answers to the mystery that had
been dropped into their laps.
Why had his
great, great, great grandfather left land that could be worth well
over a million dollars? Why had he done it in such a mysterious and
unconventional way? Was the deed even valid? Could Mark even
legally take possession of it? He’s only twelve years
old.

James and Mark collected a small fortune in
game tokens, so many bulging in their pockets that it was hard to
swim. After drying off, they went straight to the arcade,
anticipating an evening full of competition. Billiards, air hockey,
foosball and video games banished any thoughts of hunger.

James won most of the
games, which was okay with Mark. Mark’s mind was too preoccupied
with thoughts of what it all meant, which way his life was going
and what was coming next. The altar stone sliding open and closed,
revealing a hidden treasure was like something right out of Ali
Baba and the Forty Thieves,
Open
sesame
. He still didn’t understand why he
could read the note in the Bible and no one else could.
How does it all fit together? What is this school
that I’m supposed to go to? I don’t even know where it is. Maybe
Virginia will hold some more clues.

 * * *
 

It took two days to get to Virginia. The
drive had been an exercise in mind numbing tedium. Playing games
with James got old quick. The periodic pit stops weren’t much help
either. The only thing that made the trip bearable was the expected
promise of answers.

It didn’t make sense to
Mark that there was any possibility that the deed was valid.
It has been more than a hundred years since the
deed was drawn up. Surely it has to be like my dad said; the
government wouldn’t let it go that long without the property taxes
being paid.

He knew that his dad had to take the old
deed to the county court house and inquire about it. His dad would
have to do it because a little kid was just that, a little kid and
wouldn’t be taken seriously in a decidedly grownup’s only
courthouse. That would have to wait until tomorrow. It was too late
for the courthouse to be open now, but his dad wanted to find out
where the courthouse was and to get a room at a hotel that was
nearby. That would make things easier.

The deed said that the property was located
in Halifax County. The county courthouse was located in the tiny
town of Halifax. The town had two traffic lights and two gas
stations on its single street. The courthouse was at the
intersection where the second traffic light was. There were people
working in the flowerbeds around the courthouse building.

Steve parked the car in the small parking
lot next to the court building. He turned to Shirley and said, “I
didn’t see a hotel near here. Would you mind asking one of those
ladies over there, where one is?” Steve pointed to the ladies
working in the flowerbeds.

Shirley got out of the car and walked toward
the nearest lady.

“Hi there.”

The lady in the flowerbed stood up and
turned to face Shirley. “Hello… can I help you?”

“Do you work here?”

“Goodness no.” She gestured with her hand
indicating the other people. “We’re Master Gardeners. We’re doing
some volunteer work. My name is Donna.”

Shirley smiled and extended her hand. “My
name is Shirley.” She felt like she had seen this lady before, but
just couldn’t place her. The straw hat that she was wearing didn’t
help.

Mark was looking out of the car window. He
recognized her, he thought, but he didn’t want to say anything,
because it seemed like too much of a coincidence. Mark’s inner
voice told him that this was the right place to be.

Donna extended her hand a little and looked
at it. It was covered with dirt.

Shirley smiled and withdrew her hand. “I was
wondering if you could tell me if there is a hotel nearby?”

Donna pointed back the way that they had
come. “I don’t think that there are any in Halifax. The closest
one, I believe, is in South Boston, down that way.”

Shirley knew where South Boston was. They
had just driven through it. She said, “Thank you,” and smiled
again.

Donna smiled back. “You’re welcome.”

Shirley returned to the car. “That was
Donna. She says that the nearest hotel is back in South Boston.”
She pointed back the way that they had just come.

Mark’s dad drove back to South Boston. He
found a hotel and made arrangements for a room. Once settled in,
Mark could only wonder what tomorrow would hold.

The next morning, Steve went to the
courthouse and returned carrying the maps and information that he
obtained.

“The deed is good. It looks like you’re a
millionaire, almost two million, that is. The taxes are all paid
up, too.”

“Two million? The taxes are paid? Who paid
the taxes?”

Steve held out a copy of the assessment
information for Mark to see. “The card that I got from the
assessor’s office says that the property is worth one point nine
eight million and the taxes have been paid from an account at Chase
Manhattan Bank.”

Mark took the paper and examined it.

James bounced on his toes. “Wow! That means
we’re millionaires.”

Shirley looked at James and then at Steve.
“That sounds too good to be true. What’s the catch?”

“No catch that I’ve found so far. The clerk
at the court says that note passes as a will; the deed is valid.
All we need to do is have them recorded in Mark’s name. Any lawyer
can handle that.”

It still hadn’t settled
into Mark that he was a millionaire, at least on paper anyway. He
didn’t feel any different. There hadn’t been any parade or news
blurb or anything like that. His dad had just come back to the
hotel room and said, “You’re a millionaire.” It felt pretend,
almost.
It can’t be real, can it? If it is
real, why me?

“The information only lists an account
number. It doesn’t give any other information about the account.
I’ll call and ask about it later. In the meantime, let’s go look at
the property.”

Shirley navigated from the county map that
he had gotten from the courthouse and the family drove out to the
property. It took about a half hour to get there. It was way out in
the boonies. Nothing but farms everywhere. Even the last little
town that they passed through was nothing more than a stop sign and
a few buildings. When they got to the spot that had been circled on
the map, they saw that the property was thick with trees and
underbrush. It would be tough going if they wanted to explore it
now.

Mark looked for markers or anything to
indicate where the property was, but he didn’t see any. He wasn’t
sure that they were at the right place. “Dad, how much is six
hundred and sixty acres?”

“If I remember right, it’s about one square
mile.”

Mark looked up and down the
road.
Wow!

Steve examined the plat diagram showing all
of the surrounding farms. “Newsom is the family name that holds the
lease to the property. The plat map shows that they are the next
farm over. Let’s go and see what we can find out.”

They drove to the next farm. It looked like
it had a lot of pastureland. It was surrounded by a white wooden
rail fence. Mark couldn’t see any horses or cattle or anything like
you might expect on a farm of this kind. The farmhouse sat back
about a quarter of a mile off the road on the top of a hill. There
was a gravel driveway leading up to the house. Mark’s dad eased the
car up the driveway to the house and stopped.

“Mark, grab that staff and let’s go knock on
the door.” Steve hit the button to open the trunk.

The family walked up to the door with Mark
carrying the staff. The old two-story farmhouse had been resided
with white vinyl. It retained the charming, old look of classic
wooden shotgun houses with an addition on the back. All of the old
southern houses were built the same way. They got their name
because, according to the old timers, you could stand at the front
door and fire a shot gun clean through the open back door and hit
nothing but air.

There was no doorbell, so Steve knocked on
the door. After a short wait, the door opened.

The lady was wiping her hands on a
dishtowel. “Hello, can I help you?” Her eyes were obviously looking
at the staff that Mark was carrying.

“Mrs. Newsom I presume. My name is Steve
Young. This is my wife Shirley and our two boys, Mark and James.
Can we speak with you or your husband?”

“Yes, I know why you’re here.” The lady
turned and called back into the house. “Curtis, they’re here.”

Shirley leaned into Steve and whispered,
“That’s the lady that I talked to at the courthouse.”

The lady had evidently heard Shirley. “Did
you find a hotel all right?”

Shirley smiled and blushed slightly. “Yes
ma’am, we did. Thank you, again.”

The man came to the door. Steve recognized
him immediately. It was the man who had been tossing the game
tokens into the pool in Albuquerque.

Mr. Newsom’s eyes fixed on the staff. He
paused for a moment before saying, “So you’re the one. I thought
there was something special about you when I saw you in the pool.
After the dream I had, I was sure.” He smiled at Mark. “Did you get
a chance to use any of those game tokens?”

“Yes sir. Some. We had to leave early the
next morning.” Mark bowed his head after he spoke.

“We did too. Only we flew.” Mr. Newsom
shifted his attention to Steve. “You folks come on in. No use
standing around on the porch like a stray dog.”

Mr. and Mrs. Newsom backed away from the
door and allowed the Young family to enter. Mark started to lean
the staff up against the house. Mr. Newsom said, “Bring that stick
on in. From what I hear tell, it’s kind of important. Come on in
and pick a spot to sit.”

Once everyone was seated, Mr. Newsom said,
looking at Mark “I know why you’re here. Only I didn’t expect it to
happen in my lifetime, well, not until I started having those
dreams. That property next door has been good to us over the years.
If it hadn’t been for the timber on that property, well, we would
have lost everything. Not me of course, but my great grandfather.
It sure came in handy during the depression. What do you reckon
you’re going to do with that property?”

Steve started, “I don’t know yet. We just
found the deed a few days ago. That’s why we were in Albuquerque.
We’re still checking things out. We don’t know much about it.
That’s why we came here. The papers that we found said that your
family was supposed to have been taking care of it for more than a
hundred years now.”

Mr. Newsom looked at Steve quizzically and
paused. “Well, I don’t know about taking care of it. Your
granddaddy back before the turn of the century made a deal with my
granddaddy. As I understand it, the deal was that he and his
descendants were to keep squatters from claiming it until a young
man with his staff came to claim it. Well, like you said, it’s been
more than a hundred years now. I used to think that it would never
happen.”

Mr. Newsom stood up and went over to a
picture frame hanging on the wall. He took it down and walked over
to Mark. “Sure looks like the same staff to me. That’s your
granddaddy there.” He handed the picture to Mark.

Mark took the picture and examined it. The
rest of the family leaned over to look, too. Mark handed the
picture to his mother. After looking a little longer at it, she
handed it back to Mr. Newsom.

Mr. Newsom took the picture and opened up
the back of the frame. “Strange thing about us being in
Albuquerque, too. I haven’t been on any other vacation in my life.
I have always wanted to go to Florida though, but I never did.
Couple of months ago, I started having this dream. It was so real.
I was in Albuquerque watching the balloons. I kept having the
dream. I figured that I was meant to go. So I did.” He removed the
paper in the back of the frame and handed it to Mark.

Mark saw that it was a copy of the lease.
“We have a copy of this, too. It was with the deed.” Mark handed
the copy of the lease to his father.

Mr. Newsom said, “Hold on a minute, son.
That’s yours, not your dad’s or anybody else’s.”

Mark was taken aback a little bit by Mr.
Newsome’s abruptness. “I know. It just doesn’t seem real.”

“You’re the one with the staff. It was part
of your destiny to find that. In Albuquerque I had a dream about
you. You’re the one, not your dad, not your mom, not your brother.
You.” Mr. Newsom squatted to come eye to eye with Mark.

“That was some storm. That horse was trying
to kill you by killing your mother. And, I have it on good
authority that the best people are born in stables.”

Shirley gasped. “How could you know
that?”

Mark knew that Mr. Newsom was right.

Mr. Newsome stood and faced Shirley. “You
might think that all of this is a load of hooey. Coincidence piled
high, like hay. But, I’m going to tell you what’s the truth. What
you might call supernatural is very real. Powerful, dark forces are
at work. They don’t want him to have that staff. They can’t take it
directly, but they’ll try anything and everything to get him to
give it up. Best keep your guard up.”