Flying V
Footballguy
I happened to be at my sister’s house yesterday when a guy (I’ll call him Bill) stopped by that was interested in buying a horse my sister had for sale. We got to talking about all the horse trails there are now in the nearby state forest, and I was pointing out on a map all the places where you could park a trailer and do some riding. He asked me how I came to know the area so well, and I explained to him that I’ve been roaming these mountains on foot (all my sister’s horses are too skittish for the inexperienced rider that I am) for thirty years because I just love to be outside and exploring new ground. I also explained that I spend as much time off the trail as on, and I’ve stumbled onto some pretty interesting stuff that way.
So I was on the subject of interesting finds, and he listened to how I’d found some American Chestnut trees (small ones that the blight hadn’t killed yet), but when I got on the subject of the antique blanket next to the spring fed pool, he suddenly seemed more than just casually interested. I described how last spring I was taking a shortcut between two trails when I broke my way through some fairly thick Rhododendron and almost fell into a deep pool about ten feet around. It was fed by a spring that went back underground before it emerged again several hundred yards down the mountain. I managed to make my way around the pool to a game trail that I could use to crawl out of the other side of this well hidden watering hole. As I was crawling, I came upon an old blanket in the middle of this tunnel. Other than being dirty, it seemed to be in fairly good condition. I immediately recognized it as a blanket from an old railroad sleeper car, because my grandfather had given me one just like it many years ago. It had a pattern in two shades of brown.
At this point I turned to my sister and asked “What was the name on those old railroad blankets we got from grandpa?” and Bill almost shouts out “Pullman?”
“Right,” I said. “But I left it lay because it was pretty dirty and I didn’t feel like carrying it.”
Bill asked me if I thought I could find the spot again. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem, but I couldn’t imagine it was worth going back for, and the conversation got back on the subject of horses.
Moments ago, I got a call from Bill. He wants me to help him find this blanket. When I asked him if it was really that valuable, he explains that he has an ulterior motive;
About six years ago, his 22 year old daughter left the house to visit a friend one night. She hasn’t been seen since. When she didn’t come home the next day, Bill called the friend only to find that not only had the daughter never showed, but that a visit had never been planned. Some hours later, her car was located. Further investigation got them nowhere, and after a few months, a detective from the state police gave Bill the name of a psychic that he had worked with in the past. After visiting her home and the spot where the car was found, here’s some of what the psychic sensed:
“A small, cold pool of water. It’s very well concealed, but outdoors.”
“A beige and brown blanket… in a houndstooth pattern. Very old and dirty.”
“A man will help us by some strange twist of circumstance. He seems busy searching for something else. I can’t picture his face, but I keep seeing the name ‘Pullman’ or maybe ‘Putnam’.”
I can’t say that I’ve ever experienced anything like this before! He’s supposed to hook up with the psychic and they will meet with me again sometime next week so that I can lead them to the spot. God, I hope we don’t wind up finding a body! That will really put a damper on all the enjoyment I get out of my nature walks. I’m still trying to get comfortable with the fact that I have to share the woods with bears now.
So I was on the subject of interesting finds, and he listened to how I’d found some American Chestnut trees (small ones that the blight hadn’t killed yet), but when I got on the subject of the antique blanket next to the spring fed pool, he suddenly seemed more than just casually interested. I described how last spring I was taking a shortcut between two trails when I broke my way through some fairly thick Rhododendron and almost fell into a deep pool about ten feet around. It was fed by a spring that went back underground before it emerged again several hundred yards down the mountain. I managed to make my way around the pool to a game trail that I could use to crawl out of the other side of this well hidden watering hole. As I was crawling, I came upon an old blanket in the middle of this tunnel. Other than being dirty, it seemed to be in fairly good condition. I immediately recognized it as a blanket from an old railroad sleeper car, because my grandfather had given me one just like it many years ago. It had a pattern in two shades of brown.
At this point I turned to my sister and asked “What was the name on those old railroad blankets we got from grandpa?” and Bill almost shouts out “Pullman?”
“Right,” I said. “But I left it lay because it was pretty dirty and I didn’t feel like carrying it.”
Bill asked me if I thought I could find the spot again. I told him it wouldn’t be a problem, but I couldn’t imagine it was worth going back for, and the conversation got back on the subject of horses.
Moments ago, I got a call from Bill. He wants me to help him find this blanket. When I asked him if it was really that valuable, he explains that he has an ulterior motive;
About six years ago, his 22 year old daughter left the house to visit a friend one night. She hasn’t been seen since. When she didn’t come home the next day, Bill called the friend only to find that not only had the daughter never showed, but that a visit had never been planned. Some hours later, her car was located. Further investigation got them nowhere, and after a few months, a detective from the state police gave Bill the name of a psychic that he had worked with in the past. After visiting her home and the spot where the car was found, here’s some of what the psychic sensed:
“A small, cold pool of water. It’s very well concealed, but outdoors.”
“A beige and brown blanket… in a houndstooth pattern. Very old and dirty.”
“A man will help us by some strange twist of circumstance. He seems busy searching for something else. I can’t picture his face, but I keep seeing the name ‘Pullman’ or maybe ‘Putnam’.”
I can’t say that I’ve ever experienced anything like this before! He’s supposed to hook up with the psychic and they will meet with me again sometime next week so that I can lead them to the spot. God, I hope we don’t wind up finding a body! That will really put a damper on all the enjoyment I get out of my nature walks. I’m still trying to get comfortable with the fact that I have to share the woods with bears now.
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