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Trouble on Candlepin - Chapter 5
Chapter 1: Borderscry
Chapter 2: Reports
Chapter 3: Christmas Dance
"Chapter 4: Folklore
CHAPTER 5 - History
Yule, 21 December
Buck County
Sanderson waited until they were underway before asking, "Wanna tell me exactly why we're investigating a report of snowfall?" When Murdock didn't answer immediately, she added, "It's not exactly a crime, you know. Even in the South. And if it were, we can't exactly arrest Jack Frost."
Murdock cast a quick glance her way, assessing her mood. She was looking out the front window in a way that seemed carefully deliberate. Not angry, or amused, despite her words. More ... waiting. On edge and not exactly happy about it.
"I assume this isn't some elaborate prank on the new guy," she went on.
"It's not a joke," Murdock replied at last. "I wish it were." He ran out of words, unsure of how to explain.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Look around you. See any snow?"
Sanderson shrugged. "No. And there's none in the forecast, neither. Is 'snow' some kind of code word? Drugs, maybe?" At that guess, she finally relaxed somewhat and looked at him.
"I wish," Murdock repeated, scoffing. He sighed. "No. It's ... It's something Buck County. What do you know about the local history?" Sanderson frowned, shaking her head.
She was a new hire, less than six months with Buck County Sheriff's department. Not a new recruit, however. She had ten years experience with the Capitol Police Department and had come to them with glowing references and an exemplary record.
"Your kids haven't said anything about Old Buckminster?" Murdock probed. Looking troubled at this mention of her children, Sanderson again shook her head. Murdock grunted. "I'm surprised. At their ages, my cousins and I were sharing ghost stories like crazy."
"These days, they're all into video games and anime," Sanderson said. "If it's not online, it might as well not exist. So spill. What is this all about?"
Murdock turned onto Riley Road.
"Long story short, Candlepin is haunted. Exactly who or how changes with the teller but the warning sign is when there's weather on Candlepin that can't be explained and isn't anywhere else in the county. Like snow. Look ahead."
They were passing the ABC store, heading for the street that skirted the bottom of Candlepin. A road barrier barred the way. Murdock stopped the car and Sanderson stepped outside to move it, replacing the barricade once he'd moved past. When she sat back in the cruiser, she studied the snowflakes on her sleeve, then looked up, first down Mountain Road, then back along Riley. Then she shrugged.
"Okay, so the snowfall starts here. That's not so strange. I understand closing off the road, if it gets dangerous in bad weather, but this is barely a dusting. And I don't understand at all why we are going to investigate. What we are going to investigate."
Murdock started the car moving.
"Buck County was settled by two men close to three hundred years ago. Horatio Buckminster and his brother Caleb. Back then this was wild country ..." He ignored her muttered comment that it still was. "... only natives around. Caleb married a local woman and joined her tribe. Horatio wanted a more European ... white European lifestyle. He built a cabin on Candlepin. It was sacred to the local tribes, or maybe it was haunted even back then. All I'm sure of is, they weren't any too happy with Horatio felling trees and hunting on the mountain."
"Family legend says Caleb went to talk to his brother, to offer him a different homestead site, but he never came back. Instead, Horatio got himself a wife and started a family and the local tribe started failing. Unexplained deaths, disappearances, crop failures. The legends blame monsters."
"Family legend?" Sanderson repeated. "Your family. Wait! Your first name is Caleb."
Murdock nodded. "Yep. My family legend. The name is passed on to the next head of the family." He paused, took a deep breath and continued. "Legend has it that Caleb returned some two, three decades later, looking just the same as he had when he'd left on that little chat. His own son found him out on the mountain, took him home. He told him ... "
Murdock stopped speaking. They'd turned onto the access road heading up to the survivalist lodge and the snow was falling harder. Sanderson leaned forward in her seat, staring with fascination at the snow hitting the windshield.
"This is crazy."
"Whatever happens ...," Murdock said. "Whatever you see, or hear, stay with the cruiser. You'll be safe there."
"I didn't become law enforcement to stay safe, Murdock," she replied flatly.
"Listen, Sanderson, this is outside your ken. Things happen on Candlepin, especially when there's a Buckminster involved."
"Old Buckminster? Your ancestor?"
"No. Not some ghost or monster. I got a call from a cousin ..."
"Everyone in town is a cousin!" Sanderson grumbled under her breath.
"He said that a descendant of Old Buckminster is in town and staying up at the lodge some idiot built on Candlepin."
Sanderson gave him a suspicious look.
"If this place is so haunted, how did that place get built?"
Murdock snorted. "Buckminsters still owned the original homestead. They sold it to this Michael Biggers guy and forced the paperwork through on the state level."
"Okay, so ... What's the big deal about this descendant staying on the mountain?"
Murdock downshifted, peering through the heavy snowfall.
"Trouble started after Caleb Buckminster disappeared that first time. What he told his son before he died was that his brother took him to a party in a big house on the mountain. Caleb only stayed for one dance, realized his brother was gone and took off again. When he got out, twenty years had passed. During those twenty years, Horatio had prospered and the tribe ... Caleb's people, had almost died out."
"Caleb junior paid attention and so did his children and his children's children. Every time a Buckminster disappeared in a storm on Candlepin, Buckminsters prospered and their neighbours died. We got a saying here in Buck County. 'When it's stormin' on Candlepin, all good Buckminsters stay within.' "
Sanderson watched him, an expression of extreme disbelief on her face. "You're talking ... sacrifice. Human sacrifice."
Murdock nodded gravely.
"I don't 'spect you'll be in much danger, but even so ... stick to the car and you'll be safe enough."
"What about you? Seems like I'd be safer out there than you would be, being a Buckminster descendant and all."
Murdock pressed his lips together tightly and shrugged. "I got me some protections. I'm the Caleb, you see."
White Hart Leap
Chapter 2: Reports
Chapter 3: Christmas Dance
"Chapter 4: Folklore
CHAPTER 5 - History
Yule, 21 December
Buck County
Sanderson waited until they were underway before asking, "Wanna tell me exactly why we're investigating a report of snowfall?" When Murdock didn't answer immediately, she added, "It's not exactly a crime, you know. Even in the South. And if it were, we can't exactly arrest Jack Frost."
Murdock cast a quick glance her way, assessing her mood. She was looking out the front window in a way that seemed carefully deliberate. Not angry, or amused, despite her words. More ... waiting. On edge and not exactly happy about it.
"I assume this isn't some elaborate prank on the new guy," she went on.
"It's not a joke," Murdock replied at last. "I wish it were." He ran out of words, unsure of how to explain.
"Well?" she prompted.
"Look around you. See any snow?"
Sanderson shrugged. "No. And there's none in the forecast, neither. Is 'snow' some kind of code word? Drugs, maybe?" At that guess, she finally relaxed somewhat and looked at him.
"I wish," Murdock repeated, scoffing. He sighed. "No. It's ... It's something Buck County. What do you know about the local history?" Sanderson frowned, shaking her head.
She was a new hire, less than six months with Buck County Sheriff's department. Not a new recruit, however. She had ten years experience with the Capitol Police Department and had come to them with glowing references and an exemplary record.
"Your kids haven't said anything about Old Buckminster?" Murdock probed. Looking troubled at this mention of her children, Sanderson again shook her head. Murdock grunted. "I'm surprised. At their ages, my cousins and I were sharing ghost stories like crazy."
"These days, they're all into video games and anime," Sanderson said. "If it's not online, it might as well not exist. So spill. What is this all about?"
Murdock turned onto Riley Road.
"Long story short, Candlepin is haunted. Exactly who or how changes with the teller but the warning sign is when there's weather on Candlepin that can't be explained and isn't anywhere else in the county. Like snow. Look ahead."
They were passing the ABC store, heading for the street that skirted the bottom of Candlepin. A road barrier barred the way. Murdock stopped the car and Sanderson stepped outside to move it, replacing the barricade once he'd moved past. When she sat back in the cruiser, she studied the snowflakes on her sleeve, then looked up, first down Mountain Road, then back along Riley. Then she shrugged.
"Okay, so the snowfall starts here. That's not so strange. I understand closing off the road, if it gets dangerous in bad weather, but this is barely a dusting. And I don't understand at all why we are going to investigate. What we are going to investigate."
Murdock started the car moving.
"Buck County was settled by two men close to three hundred years ago. Horatio Buckminster and his brother Caleb. Back then this was wild country ..." He ignored her muttered comment that it still was. "... only natives around. Caleb married a local woman and joined her tribe. Horatio wanted a more European ... white European lifestyle. He built a cabin on Candlepin. It was sacred to the local tribes, or maybe it was haunted even back then. All I'm sure of is, they weren't any too happy with Horatio felling trees and hunting on the mountain."
"Family legend says Caleb went to talk to his brother, to offer him a different homestead site, but he never came back. Instead, Horatio got himself a wife and started a family and the local tribe started failing. Unexplained deaths, disappearances, crop failures. The legends blame monsters."
"Family legend?" Sanderson repeated. "Your family. Wait! Your first name is Caleb."
Murdock nodded. "Yep. My family legend. The name is passed on to the next head of the family." He paused, took a deep breath and continued. "Legend has it that Caleb returned some two, three decades later, looking just the same as he had when he'd left on that little chat. His own son found him out on the mountain, took him home. He told him ... "
Murdock stopped speaking. They'd turned onto the access road heading up to the survivalist lodge and the snow was falling harder. Sanderson leaned forward in her seat, staring with fascination at the snow hitting the windshield.
"This is crazy."
"Whatever happens ...," Murdock said. "Whatever you see, or hear, stay with the cruiser. You'll be safe there."
"I didn't become law enforcement to stay safe, Murdock," she replied flatly.
"Listen, Sanderson, this is outside your ken. Things happen on Candlepin, especially when there's a Buckminster involved."
"Old Buckminster? Your ancestor?"
"No. Not some ghost or monster. I got a call from a cousin ..."
"Everyone in town is a cousin!" Sanderson grumbled under her breath.
"He said that a descendant of Old Buckminster is in town and staying up at the lodge some idiot built on Candlepin."
Sanderson gave him a suspicious look.
"If this place is so haunted, how did that place get built?"
Murdock snorted. "Buckminsters still owned the original homestead. They sold it to this Michael Biggers guy and forced the paperwork through on the state level."
"Okay, so ... What's the big deal about this descendant staying on the mountain?"
Murdock downshifted, peering through the heavy snowfall.
"Trouble started after Caleb Buckminster disappeared that first time. What he told his son before he died was that his brother took him to a party in a big house on the mountain. Caleb only stayed for one dance, realized his brother was gone and took off again. When he got out, twenty years had passed. During those twenty years, Horatio had prospered and the tribe ... Caleb's people, had almost died out."
"Caleb junior paid attention and so did his children and his children's children. Every time a Buckminster disappeared in a storm on Candlepin, Buckminsters prospered and their neighbours died. We got a saying here in Buck County. 'When it's stormin' on Candlepin, all good Buckminsters stay within.' "
Sanderson watched him, an expression of extreme disbelief on her face. "You're talking ... sacrifice. Human sacrifice."
Murdock nodded gravely.
"I don't 'spect you'll be in much danger, but even so ... stick to the car and you'll be safe enough."
"What about you? Seems like I'd be safer out there than you would be, being a Buckminster descendant and all."
Murdock pressed his lips together tightly and shrugged. "I got me some protections. I'm the Caleb, you see."
White Hart Leap