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    Ting!: The Silent Warning
    Ting!: The Silent Warning
    Ting!: The Silent Warning
    Ebook121 pages1 hour

    Ting!: The Silent Warning

    By Tawnee Chasny

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    About this ebook

    Two women take to God's Country after the big city was just about to eat them up. Lilly, a talented artist, runs to the mountain cabin her grandparents left to her. Lilly's nearest neighbor, Joanne, bought an A-frame cabin in the small mountain community after her husband passed away. When they met, little did they know their very lives would de

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherWriters Branding LLC
    Release dateSep 14, 2021
    ISBN9781639451357
    Ting!: The Silent Warning

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      Book preview

      Ting! - Tawnee Chasny

      cover.jpg

      Contents

      CHAPTER 1

      CHAPTER 2

      CHAPTER 3

      CHAPTER 4

      CHAPTER 5

      CHAPTER 6

      CHAPTER 7

      CHAPTER 8

      CHAPTER 9

      CHAPTER 10

      EPILOGUE

      FIVE MONTHS LATER

      To my hubby, Kennar, for the great editing job

      and putting up with me. To my daughter who is my best friend, for her encouragement. To my son, for his love always.

      I give to you the Tings you need in life.

      ~<]:o)Love y’all.

      CHAPTER 1

      Lilly came upon it quite by accident, as she did with many of the things she collected. Her mind was wandering as she strolled through the trees on her way to The Village. The path was of hard packed dirt pounded down by more animals than people. Gramps had told her that it was a deer trail, one of the easiest ways to find your way through the forest. The animals never get lost here, and they know the best way to get from here to there without being disturbed by people. She loved the peace and quiet that she found here and nowhere else. In her youth, she’d spent most of her summers here in the mountains with her grandparents.

      The Village is a fairly large store on the ground floor of a very large, two-story log cabin. The owner George Foster, his wife Kelly, and their five boys live upstairs. George’s father, George Senior, inherited the cabin from his Uncle Mathews, and he in turn passed it along to his son and daughter-in-law when they had but one child.

      Heck, son, you’re more into living off the land like your Ma than I am. Why don’t you take Kelly and the baby there and raise your family in God’s country. We’ll come up as often as we can, it’s only a couple hours’ drive from here. It’s not like we’re sending you away.

      It was built, some say, long before the turn of the century. It was located not too far from her own cabin. About a twenty-minute walk. They had a small deli and a bakery shop (homemade—Kelly’s department) in the back of the store. Up front it had just about everything you needed, from hardware, small tools like hammers, screwdrivers, nails, screws, and assorted sundries. There was also a small souvenirs corner operated by Zelda Compton. Driving there was out of the question. A walk in the woods was just what Lilly’s mood required. She needed to buy a few things because she was making a special dinner for her new friend tonight.

      She had met her new friend Joanne at her neighbor Howard Bluefeather’s house during one of her visits to deliver an item that she had made for them. Howard and his two oldest sons, Jason and Daniel, had helped Joanne move into the house that Ken and Tillie Johnson had moved out of a few months ago. She was there visiting when Lilly arrived. Lilly and Joanne liked each other right away. She invited the woman over to her house for dinner so that they might get better acquainted and to welcome her to the neighborhood, if you could call it that in the mountains.

      Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a flash of bright blue light. Mmm! That’s curious. When she approached the spot where she thought she saw it, there was nothing to be seen but a large tangle of blackberry vines. She smiled to herself thinking about the rabbit in an old fairytale that was begging not to be thrown in the briar patch. Clever little guy, wasn’t he? she said aloud to herself. Curious, she got as close as she could without getting pricked or snagged by the wicked thorns. She pulled her long chestnut hair away from her face, holding it out of the way, and peered beneath the vines. Nothing here. Must have been my imaginings again. And no rabbit hole either. As she turned to be on her way, the most beautiful flash of green light caught her attention. Hum! I thought it was blue. Maybe there’s more than one of these . . . whatever they are. Then she spotted it. Wedged amidst three large vines was what appeared to be a large piece of glass about the size of her hand. As she moved about trying to see it better, the reflection caught the sunlight at different angles. Each flash of light a different color. Fire red, sky blue, emerald green, and all the colors between. Each appeared to have its own source of light from within itself.

      She had always had a talent for making beautiful things out of the most ordinary, sometimes odd objects. Her cabin was full of them. She had given several away to admiring friends. If you really like it that much, you can have it.

      Zelda, the owner of the Curio Shopio in The Village, displayed and sold some of Lilly’s things for her. Zelda even came over to Lilly’s cabin and took pictures of her masterpieces as Zelda called them. These were now in an album/catalog set on the counter for customers to look through and possibly make a purchase. Without that, her table would be rather bare at times. Now there were people asking her to make things on special order. A friend of a friend had seen her work in various places and asked about her doing something special for them.

      Searching around, she found a stick just long enough to reach this colorful thing. Parting the vines carefully, she could just barely touch it. It seemed to be wedged rather tightly. Perhaps I can get the stick underneath and loosen it. She pressed the pointed end under the glass and pressed down on the other end of the stick. WHOOSH! It went flying into the air, landing on the path where she had been walking. That was lucky. It could have been lost and never found with all these ferns and bushes around here. She returned to the path and picked it up. It was light as a feather, but just large enough that she couldn’t close her fingers all the way around it. As she turned it in her hand, the colors seemed dull, almost colorless. Mmm! Maybe just the way it caught the light. The edges were irregular, almost sharp, but not enough to cut. The shape was roughly that of a large egg, but flattened like a river rock. Being in a hurry, she stuck it in her knapsack and continued along the path to The Village market.

      . . .

      After dinner, she served blackberry cobbler with sweet creme. Lilly! This is so delicious. Where did you get berries this nice around here? I didn’t see any in the market.

      I found them in the forest on my way home from the store. Which reminds me. I found something else today that I might be able to use somehow. Come on, Joanne, let’s go in the other room, the light’s better in there anyway. Bring your bowl with you.

      Don’t worry! I’m not letting go of this bowl until it’s empty.

      . . .

      The other room was her workshop. She had all kinds of hand tools, rolls of wire, various colors of paint, brushes, spray cans, small glass and plastic jars containing different sizes of screws and nails, and boxes of ordinary and oddly shaped objects. All of this was somewhat neatly arranged on shelves and hooks that were mounted on the wall. There were projects near finished, and just being started lying about on three tables that lined one whole wall. Two articles setting on newspaper looked as if they were finished and waiting for the paint and glue to dry. This stuff is beautiful. You’re really are good at what you do. I don’t think my pinkie finger has the talent you do. She strolled around the room, eating and making a close inspection of everything she could see, careful not to touch anything. Some of these pieces should be in an art showing. I’ve seen some of the things they call art, and they aren’t as good as these unfinished ones. These are wonderful! You could make a fortune!

      I just can’t survive in the big city and I don’t want to do business there either. In fact, I grew up in the city and it’s not for me. I almost lost my creative edge there and I’m just now getting it back. Thank you for the compliment, but I don’t do this for money. Well! Yes, just enough to live on. I don’t get my inheritance for another year, when I’m twenty-five. Guess my grandparents wanted me to mature a little before I got the money. I’m glad they did. I’ve learned a lot since leaving home.

      So if you don’t mind my asking, are you going to be rich?

      Not really. It will be enough to keep me comfortable, not work and let my time be free to be creative. My grandparents told me uncountable times, ‘Never give up your God-given talent, child. The Good Lord gave it to you for a reason. So don’t waste it.’

      "Fact is this used to be their cabin. I moved out here when my parents, who got very little by the way, started making plans for my inheritance. I was only seventeen. I had to go to court. I was granted emancipation. I finished my education by mail. My teachers were upset but understanding about my leaving. They would send a package of

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