THE LOG HOUSE

THE LOG HOUSE Revised
I've always been fascinated with old buildings such as barns and houses; especially houses. Let me tell you about what happened as a result of this fascination one time. You can then be the judge; did what I relate to you really happen or is it just a figment of my imagination.
I had heard of this old log house that was still standing though it was over a hundred years old and had been vacant for almost more years than I had been alive. I, being enamored with such houses, decided that I had to visit this particular house even though it meant a walk of several miles through dense woods. There wasn’t even a recognizable trail to follow; just, maybe, a thinning of the brush where one might have been. This I had been told by my friend, Josh, who knew about my strange hobby.
It was a warm spring day when I pulled my Pick-up off the gravel road and started my trek. I had with me my thirty-five millimeter Nikon camera which was loaded with film. I also had several spare rolls in the pouch which was slung over my left shoulder. Other than the camera and film, I carried very little. I had a water bottle and a package of raisins and a can of nuts for lunch as I intended to spend most of the day taking pictures and writing notes about the old house. I had no idea what was going to happen to me as I started into the woods toward a brush with the past.
My trek to the house took a little over two hours due to the lack of a trail and the abundance of brush. I was glad I had gotten an early start as I wanted to spend enough time for my purpose and still be able to get back to my Pick-up before dusk.
Arriving at the site where the old log house stood I was surprised to find that there was no brush growing in the immediate vicinity. In fact there was quite a clearing in the woods and the house stood right in the middle. It appeared as though someone had kept the "yard" clear of even weeds as there were none of them either. I had a peculiar feeling, as though I had been here before, as I stood there looking about.
After taking several shots from different locations within the clearing it was time to go inside. Stepping up on the stoop I was surprised at how good a condition the house seemed to be in. The door was still intact and even the leather hinges looked to be relatively new. I began to think my friend, Josh, had pulled a fast one on me. Then I opened the door and stepped inside and felt something hit me on the head. When I awoke I was laying on a mat of some kind next to a fireplace and a strangely dressed young woman was bathing my head with a rag dipped in cool water. When I tried to sit up she pushed against me and said, "Don't you be trying to move just yet, Robert Smith. That was a nasty blow you took on the noggin. I've told Pa at least a dozen times to fix that shelf before it came loose and hurt someone. Now maybe he will listen to me." With that, she left off bathing my head and turned toward the back door to throw out the pan of water she had been using. This gave me a moment to try and understand what had happened to me and where I was. It hadn't seemed strange to me to have the young lady call me Robert Smith, though my name is Kevin Johnson. Somehow, I knew at that moment that I was this Robert Smith and I did not remember anything about my real self. It seemed I had stepped into another time when I stepped through the door and took that blow to my head. You probably won't believe this but I had no consciousness of being other than the one she had called me.
Looking down at my clothing, I saw that I was dressed in the clothing which was worn before the turn of the century, though it did not register at the time. What I'm trying to convey is that I was as completely a part of that scene as if I had always been there. Evidently, I had from the way the young woman talked to me when she returned to stand near where I was still laying on the pallet.
"I should be angry with you for coming into my house without so much as knocking on the door," she said with a smile. "Just because we are betrothed does not give you a right to just walk in on me any time you want to. Why I might be entertaining someone else and not want your company. All this was said with a smile still on her face.
"Just you let me catch you entertaining any other fellow besides me, Miss Nelly Blaine," I replied. "I am the only one for you to be thinking any such thoughts about. Why it is only a fort-night till we will be wed." By now I was able to raise up to a sitting position with my back against the wall beside the fireplace. I still felt weak and my head still hurt something awful.
Taking a cast iron tea kettle from the coals at the edge of the fireplace, Nelly poured a tin cup full of the steaming liquid and handed the cup to me. "Here, drink this," she ordered, "it will make your head feel better. There is nothing like Sassafras tea to take away a headache. You'll be all right soon if you just stay still for a while longer." I was in no hurry to get up from where I sat and was certainly not about to argue with her about it. At that moment Nelly's father opened the door and stepped into the room. "What happened to you?" he asked. "How come you're on the floor?" Nelly lit in on him about the shelf over the front door and told him that he nearly killed her betrothed by not fixing it as she had asked him to. While she was giving her father a bawling out, I managed to get to my feet and stand, leaning against the wall for support. A few moments more and I was ready to go on about my business.
"I left a brace of squirrel on the stoop before you konked me on the noggin", I teased. "If you don't want them I guess I'll just take them to Widow Jennings." With that, I started toward the door and she left off berating her father and started in on me instead.
"Don't you dare take any squirrels to her," she said with her brown eyes snapping. "Of course I want them. I've just been busy taking care of you and you never said anything about them until now." Mr. Blaine used the opportunity to go on through to the back door where he stepped back outside. He didn't seem concerned about me either being hurt or being there with Nelly without a chaperone.
I went out and got the squirrels and, taking them around back of the house, soon had them skinned and ready for the pot. When I entered the back door Mr. Blaine was standing on a stool driving a new peg into the log for the shelf to rest upon. After he was satisfied that it was in tight he fastened the shelf to it with a small nail, making it sturdy and safe. I was wishing he had done it before the shelf walloped me on the skull as I had quite a punk knot from it. Nelly insisted that I stay to supper since I had furnished the meat by bringing the squirrels.
After supper I helped Nelly wash the few dishes then we went for a walk in the moonlight. We never ventured out of sight of the house and I soon brought her back inside and made my departure. It was about a three mile walk through the woods to where I shared a cabin with my widowed mother. I had built two extra rooms on it in recent months in anticipation of bringing Nelly there when we wed. My mother was a wise woman and had eaten her supper alone knowing that I likely would take mine with Nelly and her father.
Next morning was meeting day and we had a circuit riding preacher coming for the morning service. Nelly and I would speak to him about performing the wedding ceremony on his next trip through our community. This would be the first week of June and that was when Nelly wanted to be wed. I would have been happy to have him do it this trip but she had other ideas. She said she wanted a proper wedding not a hurry up one as if we had to marry. In our settlement it wasn't considered proper for young folks to do any courting on the Sabbath day so I had to be content to be with Nelly just long enough to talk with the preacher. I wasn't even permitted to take her home from meeting.
It was a brisk autumn morning and two young men from the community decided to have a try at squirrel hunting. They were John Simpkins and Peter Whaley.Both boys were well acquainted with Mr. Blaines and had hunted with him on several occasions. Taking their cap and ball rifles with them they made their way to the woods surrounding the Blaines farm. They had been hunting for some hours and had several squirrels in their bag. They had decided to stop by and visit with Mr. Blaines for a spell. They were nearly to his cabin when John spied a large red squirrel on a low tree limb. Wanting to add it to his bag, he decided to make the shot even though it was not an acceptable practice. They had been taught never to shoot their rifles at anything low in trees lest the ball miss and hit something other than it's intended target. Just as John fired, Peter saw a horse and rider coming along the trail toward the Blaines cabin. Suddenly, the rider fell from his horse at the same time as the sound of John's shot rang out through the woods.
Nelly and I had been married almost three months when I had an accident. I was returning a mule I had borrowed from a neighbor to plow our garden and had decided to ride him rather than walk and lead him. The trail took me near Mr. Blaines' house so I thought I would stop and visit with him for a spell. I hadn't seen much of him since the wedding and I liked him a lot. As I rode into the clearing, a shot rang out and I felt something graze my head. I remember falling from the back of the mule and hitting the ground pretty hard. The next thing I remember is waking up and finding myself inside the old house on the floor. I had my camera and the rest of my gear but I wasn't sure who I was. One part of me remembered that I was Kevin Johnson but the other part knew I was Robert Smith. I managed to get to my feet and suddenly felt very thirsty and hungry. I still had my raisins, nuts and my water bottle was full so I ate some of the raisins and drank about half of the water. I saw the shelf that had fallen from over the door and was just getting ready to start taking pictures of the inside of the old house when the door opened and Josh came in. "Where have you been, Kevin?" he asked. "We have been worried sick. The Sheriff had a search party out looking for you for three days before giving up and deciding you had skipped the country." Your mom has been talking about hiring a private detective to find you. Where have you been for the last four months?"
I couldn't understand what he was talking about. I had just come to this place a few minutes before. I didn't think I could have been out more than ten minutes or so. Josh kept talking, though, about how I had been missing for four months. It just didn't make any sense to me and I told him to stop his nonsense. He finally got me to go outside and sit on the stoop. When I did, the first thing I saw were the weeds growing all around the house. The door was barely hanging on one leather hinge and looked as if it could fall any time. This wasn't what I remembered seeing when I came here a short while ago. This just didn't make any sense. There had to be something going on and Josh had to know what it was. I finally agreed to let him help me back to the road as I was still weak from the blow to the head.
When we arrived at the place where I had left my pick-up there was only one vehicle in sight. That was Josh's little red sports car. He said they had had my pick-up towed when the search parties had been unable to find any trace of me. He was so serious that I was beginning to believe him. I realized he was telling the truth when the disc jockey on the radio gave the date. It was four months from the date I had gone to take pictures of the old log house. Where had I been? Was I really alive in another time for those four months? I will never forget Nelly Blaine and the time I spent with her. Dream or reality I will never know but I had to be somewhere during the four months I had been missing and how did I turn up unconscious in the old log house after all that time?
Author: William L. Hyatt

 

 
Copywright 1997
Author: William L. Hyatt