Chapter 11
Maggie Valley, NC
LUCINDA STOPPED BY as promised a little after three thirty and suggested that we ride with her. As she put it, “That way, Uncle Cyrus won’t get his back up when he sees a strange vehicle coming up his driveway.”
We climbed in the aging F-150 with her, and she drove us up the mountain a half-mile or so before turning off the road at an old and very rusty mailbox. The name on the box was faded, but it clearly read ‘Hall’. Her uncle’s home was on the opposite side of the road from our creek, and she explained that he owned land on both sides of the road. The drive went a few yards, turned sharply to the right, and ended at a small house perched on a rise. As I got out of the truck, I noted that we had a great view of the road below in both directions. The house
