The ‘Iriquois Hills‘.
Back-timber and truck stops…
Georgia-soil, the South and Antebellum-stewardship.
[...Close to the captive]
...David drove into the forests, to do some sight-seeing. His nerves had calmed. His thinking which having been erratic, had reached a self-resolved, innate-gentleness. He’d been on the run, 6-months. Never really, being able to be transfixed. The gentle-forests, lakes and streams of Tennessee eased his-mind. He grew more focused, was instilled-with satisfaction and settlement. He was not caught up-in deception and hiding. He felt in-sensed, carrying-out in a self-effort and cause. He was there, going-over future purchases of swath-lands for a tree-farm. Now, 45-miles from Fire Creek… He’d again, moved-up in the business. His boss, wanted to retire soon and with his knowledge and skill made him head of management-and-allocation. Paying him a salary of $30,000 a year… He again, enjoyed his job. Yet the solitude, forest-environment and lack of interaction made life-easier. He was allowed-to explore, examine and discover in the deep-forest of the Iriquois Hills a 20 square mile territory on the border of Georgia. Tennessee was simple and honest yet now he came across, the vast land of rural Georgia. Much of the land was forest... It was were, it seemed, you could not be found… In his years with U.S.F.S. the mountains and forest were systemic and burdensome with a necessary, hardship...
In a basic solace, settled in the Smokey Mountains of the Georgia region. The ‘Hills’ went for miles. Rarely, feeling over-exerted or obliged-in obligation. It served to follow in his-own pace. He reached a bluff looking out, on the valley. It was not cold, a cool-breeze blew. He sat fascinated-by the sight. It seemed ‘pristine’; he-walked several miles further feeding his-understanding. He observed the ‘wonder’-of flora and fauna feeling fully-‘alive’. He breathed deeply, and felt an embrace-of the land… His now possessed, perception had now-fully been realized. And that reality-‘land’, made-up for the reclusive, of the past. He knew how life was in an instance-’free’… The Iriquois Hills lay 10-miles into Georgia territory, he had traveled-nine. Instilled and justified, he knew no matter what happen in the future he’d seen a great-bit of free-resolve and people, he met and he’d done more to influence, the ‘fiction’, he’d once laid-down in insecurity, in-severance and as a servile… It was getting-in touch with a ‘greater-being’ than himself; he released the enacting-‘sin’; that was a mortal-sin, and accepted in an honesty-of purpose, if only to himself... He went back the way he came and with the great-’beauty’ of nature and nativity, he found his-way back to the trail, back to Fire Creek. He returned home that night to a fire, and slept.
Chris arrived at ‘Secato-S’ ranch at 8 a.m. with his luggage. He was planning to stay the week of Spring-Break. Where the other students went on vacation… He was no young student he was in his first-semester of graduate-work. Preparing a-thesis; grading papers and looking-into a future job. His semester, went smoothly... As he didn’t have his brother, he told Bo; as a stand-in. He’d left his girlfriend, so to go home to her parents. He said they were getting serious-over the semester, they’d grown closer. Marriage was possibly in the picture. Just before the break they’d spent a lot of time together. ‘She eased my pain, and I am able to function…’ ‘I-began to see the whole world, differently.’ Her family had adopted him. And consoled him as he was questioned and given the once over by authorities, and the media. He was beginning to accept what had occurred. The ‘buzz’ had began to quiet… He realized his life was his-alone; slowly, releasing-ties to a surprising action of a devising brother. He adopted the stance that although his brother was his only kin, they’d now went separate- ways.
Bo didn’t go into the case adamant, or incohesively. He was glad he didn’t need to. By permission, he inquired into the more obstensibles in Chris’s knowledge; without hedging an impasse over-it. Chris had developed into a man-seasoned and discreet. Perhaps David had been the one to create his brother’s learning; now, he’d become an independent-as ever as David was a murder-assailant, on-the-run, his brother was becoming competent and self-motivated... Yet for Chris to make himself seem abashing, was not obvious. He was self-assured in account and articulation. He’d eased from the deplorable-of crime, drastic-ism and exalting. The fissure-between brothers had all but ended. As the evidence came in, the certainty, in-order of being a family and the ill-consideration of ill-logic that had-now dispelled, his life.
Sequoia Trail-A Bo Jon Littlehorse P.I. Novel. Second Edition Page 19
