And So It Is, and So It Was - Softcover

Mesich, James R.

Softcover

ISBN 10: 145022671X ISBN 13: 9781450226714

Verlag: iUniverse, 2010

Inhaltsangabe

A down-to-earth landscape artist from Detroit, Patrick Slavich returns to the family home in the northern Michigan town of Ironwood, where his greatgrandfather settled many years ago. After divorcing his wife, Patrick looks forward to his return to his family's home, because it's where he will be able to relax and enjoy the unspoiled natural beauty of Michigan's Upper Peninsula. The millions of stars that glisten up against the black velvet, that coat the oh so silent night. The crispness in the air that is so rich, one could almost drink it like a cool refreshing glass of water after a long hot day in the heat of July.

One day, Patrick stops at an antique store to have his palm read, the man reading his palm seems to be getting a lot of facts about his life right. But how could he have known these things, will his predictions for the future come true? Soon, a sinister family secret reveals itself, altering his memories of the past and threatening his future. Jacob White, the palm reader, is a supernatural force from the "old country" who has preyed upon the Slavich family for centuries. Now, he returns to eliminate Patrick and everything that he holds dear.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

James R. Mesich has been writing for over thirty years. He has taken some creative writing classes at one of the local colleges. In his own words, he doesn't just tell a story, he shows a story. He lives just outside Detroit, has two grown children, and is a big Tigers fan!

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And So It Is, and So It Was

By James R. Mesich

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2010 James R. Mesich
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4502-2671-4

Chapter One

And so it is, and so it was, that I set out to rediscover the past that I so loved as a child. The millions of stars that glistened up against the black velvet, that coated the, oh, so, silent night. The crispness in the air that was so rich, one could almost drink it like a cool refreshing glass of water after a long hot day in the heat of July. The tugging of the fishing line as the bobber disappeared down into the blackness of the icy lake water below the aluminum fishing boat, which swayed like a comfortable hammock with every ripple that glanced up against her sides. The being able to see forever as one looked out to the horizon from the highest hillside and see nothing but what God had intended the land to be, and that was beauty in the purest sense of the word. The deep greens, and the light greens that blended together like a magnificent patchwork on a quilt sewn by the hands of nature herself. The wild life that never seemed to end, from the deer and the bear that roamed freely underneath the safety of the lush green canopy, to the birds and squirrels that lived high above the fertile ground below. The streams, and rivers, that pulsated with life through the densest parts of the forest, bringing life to the living thing that it was, and will always be.

The place was and still is a place almost lost in time itself. Michigan's Upper Peninsula is a place where man hasn't had much of a hand in disfiguring its beauty as he has had in almost every other corner of these, United States of America. The land has been left to bathe in its natural beauty. No theme parks, no over grown cities, no major industry to pollute its waters, no overcrowding of the population to push out into the many pristine forests that spill into one another. It is a place of slow paced living. What can be done today, can be done just as easily tomorrow. That is what seems to be the unspoken motto. It is a thing of beauty, in this fast paced blur of a world we share. To actually have a moment or two to catch one's breath without feeling guilty about not doing this or not doing that, is as rare as digging a hole in one's backyard and finding a flawless five carat diamond wrapped up in a gift box lying in the bottom of it. Some things just shouldn't be, but they are.

Peace was what I was in search of. The city life back in, Detroit, was something that I needed a break from. There was also a rough and bitter divorce from my wife of fifteen years that was something that I needed to get away from. Too many memories, around every street corner, let alone the friends and family who would look at me with those pitiful eyes of theirs. It left me feeling like a dog on his way to the pound. It seems the only ones left smiling after a divorce are the lawyers.

It was a breath of fresh air when I crossed the Mackinaw Bridge. I could feel the strings that were holding me back sever as I crossed that bridge. My heart instantly grew lighter as I managed my first grin in weeks. It is odd how a structure made of cold steel and cement, could leave me feeling so warm and comfortable inside as I crossed its length. Looking back now, I guess the crossing of the bridge was some sort of symbol to me. Leaving the cancer of a life behind and feeling the healing of something totally different on the opposite shore line of Lake Michigan. It was nice watching the lower half of Michigan disappear in my rearview mirror. The sky was getting bluer up ahead.

The ride along U.S. 2 was a quiet one. With its two lane road that cut its way through the surrounding forest as it snaked way it's toward my destination. My heart rate had slowed and the twitch in my right eye had left me. I was going to be up there for a while and nothing could have felt better.

With the trucks windows open, I could feel the wind rushing in and it smelled pure and clean. It's funny how something pure and clean can have a smell to it, but it does. It is the smell of everything good in life, before man has a chance to spoil it and leave one gasping for oxygen like a drowning man going down for the third time. I breathed in deeply and enjoyed it as if it were a fine glass of wine. I was nearing my destination and nothing could have felt more right, I mean what could possibly go wrong?

Chapter Two

Sinking over the horizon was the cherry red sun, as it sank it painted the town of Ironwood a pinkish hue. It made the town look as if it were a blaze. With glistening reflections of the sun's brightness radiating from nearly every window came shattered bits of dancing flashes of light that mixed in with Ironwood's redness and created the illusion of flames. It was simply awesome. I felt as if I were driving into a painting. The town nestled in neatly with the surrounding country side, with its rolling hills and endless forest that seemed to go on forever. It created quite the frame for the living picture. My memories of this place were many, but never in any of my memories had I ever seen Ironwood this dreamlike before. I was almost tempted to pinch myself, but I didn't, because if I was dreaming I didn't want to wake up.

With my finger tips tapping lightly on the steering wheel I sang along with a song on the radio, Robert Plant, need never worry about me. Stairway to Heaven didn't sound too heavenly as I strained my train wheels skidding on a rusty train track vocal cords. I could only imagine the creatures of the forest as they ran for cover from my crying banshee singing voice. They say that people can't really hear what they sound like through their own ears, I feel that sometimes evolution is a good thing.

Slowly I made my way up the side of the steep hill where my father's childhood home was located. To my right was the old high school, its halls had been empty for quite a while, the town's population had dropped off after the closing of the iron mines many years prior. It was a sad testament to the decline of Ironwood. The spirit was still strong but there just wasn't much flesh left for it to live in. As a child I played around the school, summer vacations, something to live for. Baseball, football, tossing the Frisbee, all with kids I hardly knew. It didn't matter in those days all that mattered was that you could spit and chant out players statistics like a holy man at prayer hour. It didn't take much to fit in. A smile began to spread across my face as I looked out toward the silent field and remembered the good times stored in my head. Over the years of my lifetime I've destroyed many brain cells, but thank God, those particular ones were spared.

Off in the distance I saw a porch light on, it was the end of my destination, my father's childhood home. No one lived in it any longer. I owned it but rarely inhabited it. Taxes were cheap and crime was pretty much none existent, so it was a worry free memory that I chose never to let go of. And at that particular moment I was mighty happy that I hadn't. My controlling ex always tried to get me to sell it off, but like most other things, I chose not to listen to her. Again a smile came to my face.

Pulling up the driveway I could almost see my father sitting on the front porch in his favorite chair while sipping a clod one as his cigarette smoldered in an ashtray next to him with the tip of it pulsating from lighter to darker colors of burnt orange as a slight breeze would whisper up against it. I turned down the radio. The neighborhood was very quiet this time of the evening. A child or two could be...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2010
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 145022671X
• ISBN 13: 9781450226714
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 240
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: KreGa Onlinehandel GmbH; 4950000000000; info@krega-onlinehandel.de; ; Birkenweg 31; Brakel; 33034; Deutschland