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I was posting this a chapter at a time on another site, but now the site interface doesn't allow me to copy and paste into HTML, so I'm posting the final chapters on WritersCafe.

Sparrow Lea Index

 

Randy Joyce Locke and the incident at Sparrow Lea   37 Alley Reagan felt obliged to regale me with her extremely long dramatic tale of woe. Life had, indeed, rolled over her as a kid with the typical absentee father and alcoholic mother. Undeniably, in another time and another place I could have been her or she me. Her story was trite, pat and over rehearsed meant more to rationalize and justify. I knew I was listening to so much folklore told so many times before. In an act of total defiance, when she was seventeen years old, she left a bar with a biker, riding away, forever, from a family that failed her, from a family that didn’t love her. “So, this is the other side of the sunset.” “Huh?” “You rode off into the sunset. This would be the other side.” “Yeah, I guess.” “OK, Alley, you’ve told me the easy part of the story. Now, if you dare, tell me whom you’ve loved. Tell me about who loved you.”   Eve climbed the bluff, standing nearby. “That’s it, isn’t it?” She asked me. “You choose to love, you say: this is a time and this is a place. You separate yourself from events?” “Something like that. Only thinking separates you and me. Now, if you would, Eve would like to have her way with you.” “I already told you. I must carry "” “Finding lost children is my passion. Let me find you in this time and this place, if only for the moment. Give yourself to Eve.” “Yes, I can do that.” I didn’t help her up, though she struggled. I allowed her that. Eve took her hand and led her toward her makeshift triage. There was a time in my life I wouldn’t have offered help. I’ve learned much from Eve. Independence is good but knowing when to offer help and accept help was just as good. Alley Reagan’s attack on the world was not unique. I’d seen it so many times before, even in myself. She lashed out at the world, at convention, because she felt the world rejected her. Alley Reagan had left her home, never looking back, in search of something. I could question whether Alley was running from or running to but that didn’t matter. In the age-old tradition of the ascendant masters, she left all that was society, all that was established, to find a different path. Her story, the tale she told, plainly showed me the people and places she left behind were still very much with her, the past was very much alive in her, living as shadows on the wall, driving her as if she had never left her childhood home. As with sheriffs who plot the murder of someone seeking lost children and women living in the wild who have murdered, it’s not my place to judge. They each make their choices; however, I made my choice to find three missing children. Other than the children, I could care less how Sheriff Templeton runs Sparrow Lea. I could care less how he cons people with the space guy show. “You should get some sleep.” Eve poured coffee as I sat at the rough built table in front of cabin number thirteen. The sun, low in the sky, promised another hot day. “Roger’s got the bed.” “She’s got a lot of deep pain.” “Well, Eve, who doesn’t? Life’s tragic. No one gets out of here alive and we all know it. Alley, like many people, lets that define her life.” “She told me her story while I was patching her up.” “She likes to hear her own voice, I think.” “Alley told me that we, you and me, can’t really understand because we’ve had it easy.” Eve laughed warmly. “Yeah. I’m sure once I experience the loss of something I truly love, then I’ll be able to understand.” Eve giggled, kissed me on the forehead. “I’m sure.” Eve felt we should storm in on Sheriff Templeton and see how many fingers break until he gives us a story worth listening to. “I think we should see if Jeffery Kent’s still alive.” She gave me the wide eyes. “You left something out.” “Not intentionally. I didn’t think it was important. Jack Corning actually talked to the space guys.” “Oh, duh, and you didn’t think that was important?” “At the time, I thought he was just validating the space guy story.” “With anecdotal evidence.” Eve rolled her eyes. “I’ll wake Roger. If Kent’s still alive, the clock’s ticking.” “Let him get his beauty sleep. He’s not all that good when he’s pumping full stream.” Eve argued. I won.