The roadside sign was made from weathered wood, illuminated by an old electric lamp, which had seen better days. Placed carefully at the side of a steep narrow road, it read “Welcome to Autumn.” Autumn was a small mining village, isolated by its northern proximity, far away from the bright lights of any city. Its inhabitants were genuine, hard working, proud and tough. The wind howled through the tall pines, and thick spruce trees swayed as he pulled his dark hood closer to his face, to shield him from the biting wind. He could see his warm breath billowing into small clouds supported by the frigid air. The narrow road continued to cut a path through the thick trees as the sun was retreating from the day, giving way to the darkness, and a different type of light emerging from the rising moon.
The cold air stung his rugged face, his beard stubble offered some protection, but he still shivered. He longed for a warm meal and a steaming cup of coffee as he glanced at his mud-covered boots. He pointed the toe of his boot forward and began his final trek into the village. His senses were keen and alert allowing him to hear noises deep within the forest, either side of the road. No vehicles had passed him that night, as he approached the outskirts of the Village of Autumn. Autumn wasn’t a large place; it consisted of a few streets arranged around, and leading to, a Main Street. The village originally formed as a meeting place for miners, loggers and trappers. Autumn had a general store, a bank, a diner, a small hotel, and the Sheriff’s office. The nearest city was a three-hour drive, due south.
Autumn was considered a tough place to live, where the locals were always described as hardy. Winter was brutal this far north, but the people knew how to survive, despite the bleak conditions by living off the land. The local log mills had closed years ago, but one solitary copper mine was still operational and provided most of the employment for the residents of Autumn.
He’d walked about six miles as the dark night approached, and the evening grew colder. His legs pumped in a steady rhythm as he tried to distract his mind. Ahead, he could see the faint outline of buildings, lights, and the start of the village. This spurred him onwards with his pace picking up considerably. It wasn't long before he paused at a door to a building spilling welcoming warmth and light, onto the cold street. The red painted sign announced, ‘Autumn’s Diner.’ It looked like a good place to get a warm drink, and some much needed food. Two wooden steps, and a white door, stood between him and a hearty meal. He approached, pushing the door open with his large cold hand. He walked inside and was greeted by a rectangular shaped room. Wooden booths were adorned with red padded benches that lined a center aisle. At the end of the aisle was the kitchen, surrounded by stainless steel serving doors. He flicked his eyes to the right, and then to the left, while he surveyed the scene before him. As the door slammed shut behind him, he was bathed in a gust of cold air that rushed through the small diner.
It was the day before Kelly’s nineteenth birthday, she was a happy soul who loved her job at the diner, yet countless people had advised her to move away from the Village of Autumn while she was still young, but Kelly didn't listen. She waited on tables, chatted with customers, and was quite content with her life in the rugged north. The slower pace suited her more than the bright lights of Laran City. The hustle and bustle lifestyle didn't seem to hold the same attraction as it did for countless others who had left. She’d heard stories about her school friends, like ‘moths to a flame’ they were described, but she never got excited about their exaggerated stories of success. Kelly was a very cute girl, in the Village of Autumn she was a catch with her shoulder length blonde hair, sparkling green eyes, and slim waitress figure, that came from being active and on her feet all day. She had an infectious laugh, a positive friendly disposition, and a naivety that customers adored.
The men would tease her, and she wouldn’t know if they were joking or serious, it was part of her charm. With her million-watt smile, she would laugh and graciously collect the coins left into the tip jar. Kelly approached the stranger with her usual smile, “Hi, welcome to Autumn’s Diner, table for one?”
People turned their heads to examine the unfamiliar man that stood before them. He was dressed in black from head to toe. His large frame could not disguise the fact that he was a muscular man, he wore dark coloured boots covered in mud, and his black trench coat hung from his shoulders like a cape. He wore a black hoody that was pulled up high to hide his head and most of his face. His squared jaw protruded slightly, and his face was tilted at an angle where Kelly couldn’t see his eyes from within the dark shadow cast by the hood. He nodded his head as she approached, “For one please,” he said, pulling his cold hands from his pockets.
Kelly couldn’t see the man’s facial features, but she knew from his height, and the size of his body, that she hadn’t served him at the diner before. “Over here please,” said Kelly, waving him to a booth situated half way down the diner’s aisle, on the right hand side. She slid a menu across the recently cleaned tabletop and watched him settle in. He looked around the diner taking an inventory of its inhabitants. He snapped open the belt of his trench coat and pulled his muscular arms from the wet, heavy, trench coat. As he turned to hang his coat upon a brass hook, Kelly’s eyes rested upon the area at the top of his shoulders. His black cotton hoody clung to his muscular frame taut across his shoulders and back. ‘He’s big,’ was the thought that raced through Kelly’s mind as she sized him up. When he turned, her eyes involuntarily fell to his flat stomach. He wore loose fitting black jeans, and a black leather belt with a plain silver buckle. His hoody was baggy, but it was obvious that his mid section was narrow and lean, giving him that unmistakable ‘V’ shape that she found so attractive. Grinning like a foolish schoolgirl, she tried to recover quickly, “We have a mean Shepherd’s pie tonight on special, and the Bangers and Mash seem to be popular too.”
The stranger slid effortlessly into the open booth, which faced the door to the diner positioning his back to the kitchen. He reached upwards and pushed his black hood away from his face, Kelly stifled a curious gasp of approval, her pupils widening as she studied his face. He had messy long black hair, with an unusual streak of white tucked behind his right ear. His cheekbones were high and pronounced framing his eyes that were deep set with a puffy, swollen, look. He squinted trying to adjust to the bright light of the diner. He wasn't a pretty man, he looked rugged, just the way Kelly liked them. She was so smitten with his deep-set green eyes that she forgot to ask him for his order, so he took matters into his own hands.
He tilted his head, and a strand of dark, wet hair, fell onto his forehead, distracting her. “Can I get a black coffee please, while I take a look a quick look at the menu?” His voice was deep and she seemed mesmerized. She pulled herself together.
“Sure, I’ll get that for you right away.” She knew she was grinning like a besotted schoolgirl, but she couldn't help it. As she walked back towards the kitchen to get the coffee, she looked across at Annie, the owner of the diner. Annie was grinning at Kelly who waved her hand in the motion of a fan, to signal how hot she felt. Annie laughed, smiled, and nodded her approval. Annie looked at the stranger’s back, broad shoulders, and long dark tangled hair. She knew he wasn't a local and she knew he wouldn't be welcomed. Kelly adjusted her hair in the reflection of the glass servery door. She tightened the belt on the back of her waitress uniform to ensure that it hugged her impressive figure tighter. She poured the stranger’s coffee into a mug and hurried out to serve him.
Kelly didn't look at Annie this time instead she concentrated on the hot cup of coffee shaking in her hand. She cautiously approached the stranger’s table, where she noticed that Paul and Brian had taken the booth situated across the aisle from the stranger. “Two large regular coffees Kelly sweetheart, when you have a minute,” shouted a boisterous Paul. Kelly liked to flirt with Paul, it was obvious that he had a thing for her, and she always managed to secure a nice sized tip. Kelly liked Paul, but she didn't like him in a serious way. She’d kissed him once at school, but they were kids back the
n and to her, it meant nothing. Paul was always loud, boisterous, and not too smart. He always tried to show off around Kelly, trying desperately to appear more successful than he really was and trying to demonstrate how clever he was. Unfortunately this often came at Kelly’s expense for Paul liked to put Kelly down, or tease her about being stupid. He thought it made him look clever, but it inevitably backfired and she just got annoyed with him where she thought he was an immature jerk.
Kelly concentrated on the cup of hot black coffee; she nodded at Paul, but turned her back on him while she carefully set the cup down upon the stranger’s table. “Have you decided yet?” He lifted his gaze from the menu, and flashed his green eyes. Kelly got her opportunity to study his ruggedly handsome face; he smiled and nodded.
“Kelly. Two coffees please over here, we’re freezing and we need a hot drink!” Paul was insistent and annoyed.
“I’ll take your recommendation. I’ll try the Shepherd’s pie please.” The stranger folded his menu placing it gently upon the table in front of him. Kelly ignored Paul, and wrote the stranger’s order and table number, into her small notepad. She leaned over the edge of the table to retrieve the menu, catching the stranger’s eyes looking at her body. Paul was getting increasingly agitated.
Paul slammed his fist onto the table and shouted, “God damn it Kelly, are you going to serve the regulars or what?” Kelly was caught off guard; she didn’t know how to respond. Annie had been watching Paul and saved the day by arriving with two large coffees.
“Keep it down Paul, I’ve got your coffees.” Annie placed the steaming cups onto the table in front of the boys, and gently leaned in, “Don't start any trouble tonight boys, she’s only got one pair of hands, and you just needed to wait your turn.” Annie delivered Paul her sternest stare as she tossed a couple of packets of cream across the table, “You hear me?”
Brian responded first, “Yes,” he said, reaching for the cream.
“I’m looking at you!” said Annie quietly.
Paul lifted his head, “Yes,” he said, reluctantly. Annie wheeled away with a smug look on her face where her eyes caught the gaze of Chief Great Bear, a native Indian elder. Chief Great Bear clutched his coffee mug tightly to absorb the warmth seeping through into his weathered, wrinkled, fingers. His long grey hair fell upon his shoulders, braided in the style of his tribal elders. Annie smiled, but Great Bear remained cold and emotionless. He sat motionless while observing every nuance of the diner, and every detail of the scene unfolding before him.
Kelly retrieved the stranger’s menu and walked briskly to deliver his order to the kitchen that was located at the back of the diner. Paul and Brian sipped their coffees in silence. Occasionally Paul would glance at the large framed stranger seated next to him across the aisle.
The diner fell into an awkward silence, which was thankfully broken by the front door delivering another icy blast, and another customer. A portly figure stumbled inside wearing the unmistakable dark green uniform of the village Sheriff. Sheriff Kevin Jones was well known throughout Autumn, he was the man who was supposed to represent the law. He was raised and schooled in the Village of Autumn and married a local fiery red headed lass called Jean. In his younger days, Sheriff Jones was a good-looking man who filled out his uniform in a handsome way. After a series of infidelities, and an illegitimate son, Jean had reached her limit. Jean headed to Laran City and the Sheriff headed to the bottom of a whiskey bottle. The Sheriff drank, crashed the police cruiser, fought, and gained an excessive amount of weight. He became belligerent and lost the respect of the village. He represented the law, but he acted as if he were above the law. Sheriff Kevin Jones was a shadow of his former self; he was now the village drunk, and the butt of all of the jokes. He was the only person the village had tasked with upholding the law, yet he had trouble upholding his own weight. It was obvious to the casual observer that having the village drunk driving a squad car and carrying a loaded gun, was a recipe for disaster.
A fatal accident occurred at the mine the week Jean had left the Sheriff. Two miners had been killed, and as protocol demands, the Sheriff was summoned to investigate. The Sheriff’s younger brother David had been fatally crushed along with another miner, as the coalface had collapsed in a freak accident. It was the hardest week of Sheriff Kevin Jones’ life. He’d lost his wife and his only brother that week, and it damn near killed him. Paul was still a young boy when the Sheriff visited his house that fateful day, he remembered his Mother sobbing and stroking his hair, while holding him close. Paul’s Father had died in the mining accident, and wouldn't be coming home from his shift at the pit. His Uncle, the Sheriff, had been crying too as he told him of the news. He’d promised his Mother that he would look out for him.
The Sheriff drank constantly always carrying a full flask of whiskey with him. Tonight was no exception as he entered the diner sporting a bulbous red nose with the smell of liquor on his breath. “Phew, it’s a cold one out there, and the wind’s picking up,” he announced to the whole diner, as if everyone was interested. He slammed the door closed behind him to keep the wind out, and strutted down the center aisle looking for an open booth. The Sheriff normally sat near the kitchen, away from the door. He glanced at the patrons nodding his head at the boys, and smiling at Paul. Looking at the boys, he missed the large frame of the man sat opposite them. He noticed a couple of the guys from the mine; a few men from the village, the old Indian Chief and the cheerful face of Annie, sat in the final booth, as usual. The Sheriff headed for Annie’s booth and sat in his usual place. Kevin liked Annie, she was always pleasant, and he had a bit of a crush on her. Annie had a black coffee poured before his considerably sized derriere had planted itself on the fake red leather seat. Annie pushed the steaming cup in his direction, “Thanks Annie, it's a real cold one tonight.”
Ten minutes had passed with the quiet steady hum of conversation reverberating around the diner. Kelly arrived at the stranger’s table with a plate full of steaming hot Shepherd’s Pie. She held the plate with a white towel, “Careful with the plate, it’s really hot.” She pushed his meal towards him and flashed him a warm welcoming smile. The stranger reached for his knife and fork as Kelly loitered. She twisted her golden locks with one hand and tilted her head to one side. This was a good move that she knew from experience would catch the attention of the male gender. Paul watched intently from the booth opposite, his blood was boiling. “I don't think I’ve served you before, are you new around here?” inquired Kelly, leaning over the table to get closer to the stranger.
The stranger stared at his meal. The diner had fallen quiet, as if everyone had decided to follow along with her conversation. He continued to stare at his meal, his cutlery gripped tightly within his large hands. He nodded politely, without looking at her, “Yup.” He scooped a large helping of Shepherd’s Pie, and forced it into his mouth, so he couldn’t continue with the banal banter.
Kelly wasn't taking the hint; she wanted him to notice her, “So do you work at the mine or are you just passing through?”
The stranger swallowed his food, turned his head slowly, and stared at the fresh-faced teenager. She straightened her back and leaned in closer. He noticed her perfectly white teeth and deep green eyes. “I’m passing through,” he said under his breath, trying to make this conversation end.
Kelly probed some more; she was having fun flirting with the stranger in front of Paul. “So what do you do for a living Mister?”
The stranger was starting to get irritated, but how could you make a scene with the Sheriff sitting a few booths behind you, and an innocent kid, as wholesome as apple pie, taking an interest? “I’m a logger and I’m just passing through, that’s all.”
Kelly was having way too much fun to stop. Most of the men that came to the diner were fat, stupid, lazy, ugly, old, and crass. It wasn't often she got a chance to speak to a real hottie. Besides, if she flirted with him in front of Paul, well that was a double bonus for she would’ve paid the stranger her tip
to do that. Kelly’s back was facing Paul the entire time. She had tightened her uniform where her firm buttocks were pressed against the thin flimsy material of her uniform. Paul’s eyes drank in the shape of his dream girl, while his ears listened to her fawning over another man who seemed to spurn her attempts at a conversation. His blood continued to boil; Brian noticed his agitation. Brian pushed his right arm forward letting it rest on Paul’s left forearm. “Easy now, calm down, she’s just trying to wind you up.” Brian flashed Paul a stern look to emphasize his words.
Paul stared at his coffee mug but listened in on the conversation intently. His face had turned red, and he was tapping his wet boot in annoyance upon the tiled floor.
Kelly leaned further over the stranger’s table pointing her rear end deliberately at Paul. “The nearest logging outfit to here is operated out of Dawson’s pass, and that’s not open for another three weeks. You planning on hanging around for a few weeks then before moving up north?”
The stranger moved his chiseled face to within inches of Kelly’s smooth fresh lips and looked deeply into her bright green eyes. He smiled, and then let the smile fall from his face, “You have a lot of questions dear, I normally don't like naturally inquisitive women. If it’s all the same to you, I’d like to just eat my meal in peace, and get on with my business. Like I said, I’m just passing through.”
Kelly stubbornly stood her ground; her nose was almost touching the handsome stranger’s face. Her rear end was protruding into the center aisle, pushed taut against her uniform. She’d rested her chin upon her elbows, and she knew Paul was about to blow his lid, but she didn't expect what happened next.
Paul knew his uncle, the Sheriff, was sitting at the rear of the diner. This was the false courage that he needed to show Kelly exactly the kind of man he was. He leapt to his feet and pushed her aside in one fast movement. Kelly was precariously balanced to begin with, so the push sent her tumbling to the floor, giving Paul full access to the stranger’s large frame. Paul loomed over the seated stranger, “Don't like inquisitive women!” he shouted, loud enough to get everyone’s attention. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and being rude to the staff, when they’re trying to be friendly.”
The stranger remained calm, slowly lowering his fork and resting it on his plate. He casually dropped his hand underneath the table while Paul was incensed at the lack of response. Kelly had regained her feet, “What the hell do you think you’re doing Paul?” she hissed.
“Shut it. I’m trying to teach this scruffy logger here some good old-fashioned manners. You!” Paul reached down to his belt and withdrew a hunting knife. In one swift movement he’d pointed the knife at the face of the stranger, “Apologize to her now for being so rude!”
The commotion had caught the attention of the Sheriff, who was now standing in the aisle at the back of the diner. Paul had noticed his uncle’s presence from the corner of his eye, and it served to give him more courage and conviction. Great Bear had been watching this escalate from his comfy vantage point, he’d seen Kelly flirting, and the effect it was having on Paul. The wise Indian Chief had sat silently observing every movement, every shift in weight, and every last detail.
The stranger had sat motionless until Paul started to move the blade closer to his face. The stranger’s movements were quick and decisive. Within a second, he’d swept his boot into the aisle. His strong leg had kicked the weight out from underneath Paul, who crashed onto the floor in a heap. The stranger had leapt so quickly from his booth surprising everyone at how quick he was for such a large man. He jumped upon Paul causing the Sheriff to advance and withdraw his gun. The stranger was tall, strong, and supremely athletic. He sprang to his feet powering himself upwards with his stocky legs. With one of his large hands he had grabbed the collar of Paul’s shirt. He lifted Paul powerfully from the floor, leaving his feet dangling in thin air. Paul had managed to hold on to his knife where he lifted the blade, and readied to use it. Paul was way too slow, as the stranger had withdrawn his knife anticipating Paul’s move. The stranger withdrew a fearsome blade, much larger than the one Paul held. The handle of the stranger’s blade was made from bone, and it protruded from his grip finished with a large, smooth, rounded knob. Lifting Paul off his feet had disoriented the precocious teen, what happened next stunned him.
Paul jabbed his blade aggressively towards the stranger’s abdomen, but his thrust had been anticipated. With a powerful downward blow, the knobbed handle of the stranger’s blade, thundered into the weaker wrist bone of the riled up teenager. Paul howled in pain and dropped his blade; it scurried across the tiled diner floor coming to rest at the feet of the Sheriff. Paul dangled like a rag doll, realizing the enormous size of his adversary. Standing at six feet seven inches tall, with a massive muscular frame, the stranger lowered his large blade to his side. “Put the gun away Sheriff,” he said, using the kid as a human shield.
Great Bear studied the knife; this also afforded him the opportunity to study the man standing before him. “I used this knife in self defense, against an unprovoked attack. In fact, I didn't use the knife at all; I only used the butt end of the handle, to disarm this jealous little kid. Put your gun away, because all I want to do is go back to my coffee and my meal in peace.”
Sheriff Kevin Jones examined the size of the man standing before him. He didn't believe he could take him using force, and didn't want to discharge his weapon, in his current drunken state. He nodded at the stranger while slowly returning his drawn weapon to its holster. The stranger threw Paul at the feet of his uncle, “I’m going back to enjoy my meal in peace, I suggest you get this bag of hormones out of here, before he hurts himself.” The stranger returned to his seat resting his blade on the table beside him.
Sheriff Jones was motionless and clueless, and it was Annie who took the lead, she kicked Paul’s knife to the back of the diner and raced towards the downed teen. “Get up and then get out - Now! You can’t come in here causing trouble, now out.” She grabbed him by his collar and lifted him to his feet, ushering him down the aisle towards the door.
It took a brief moment for all of this to sink in, but eventually Paul came to his senses, he pushed his body against Annie trying to stop her momentum. He was about to protest when he felt a presence behind him, it was Brian, “Come on Paul, we need to get out of here.” Brian grabbed his friend’s jacket and pushed him forcefully towards the door. Sheriff Jones shook his head in dis-belief for he realized that he was incapable of resolving this conflict in his current drunken state. Paul was being pushed towards the door but he managed to catch a glance of the stranger’s large shoulders and made eye contact with Kelly cowering in a booth near the door.
The boys disappeared through the front door of the diner the cold rasping air announced their departure. Silence descended over the diner as the stranger scooped a fork full of food, and pushed it into his eager mouth. Annie returned to her seat after safely stowing the grounded knife, she looked across the table at the deflated Sheriff. She reached forward and steadied his shaking hand, “It’s OK Kevin, no more drama tonight, and I’ll have a word with Kelly later, and you need to talk to Paul, deal?”
“Deal,” the Sheriff looked shaken.
Kelly pulled herself together and headed back to the kitchen, as she passed the stranger, he pushed his hand into the aisle stopping her progress. She sheepishly looked at his brilliant green eyes, “A warm-up on the coffee please, it’s gone cold while we were having all that fun.”
“Certainly,” Kelly headed to the back to retrieve the coffee pot.
* * * * *
Chapter 2: A Young Man’s Wounded Pride.
The Village of Autumn, The Mine District, The Fourth Realm.
“In youth we learn; in age we understand.”