stuck closely to the simple story he put together as he
waited for the fire to be extinguished.
“I was trying to light the old kerosene
lamp.”
“When I struck the match, I knocked the lamp
over and everything went up in flames.”
“Don’t know why I
didn’t get burned. Just lucky I guess.”
“I jumped out of the way. I’m an athlete,
you know. I can move fast and I did this time, that’s for sure.”
Eventually they left him alone sitting
outside the smoldering ruins. He breathed in the acrid smoke, a smug,
self-satisfied grin curling the corners of his mouth.
“ Such a
shame! That boy lost his mother and his house all at the same time.” The
sentiment echoed through town, voiced with a thinly disguised suggestion that
it wasn’t a shame at all.
Harland buried Eulah
and, he hoped, his childhood with her. He was sixteen years old. He had a job
at the hardware store downtown and friends he could stay with until he figured
out his next move. That move, when it came, proved a major turning point in his
life.
“You’re
Harland Freeman, aren’t you son?” The well-dressed man asking the question had
stopped Harland as he left work one day. “Didn’t your mama die and your house
over there on Pearson burn down a couple of weeks ago?”
Why is Mr. Howell interested in me? How
come he knows so much about me? Harland
should have been aware that everyone in town knew about him now—not only his
name and where he worked, but many tidbits about his life before he became the talk
of the town. Harland knew Mr. Howell owned the shop two blocks up from the
hardware store. He had accumulated a sizable fortune as one of Asheville’s most
successful businessmen.
“Yes, that’s me.”
Harland knew he would get more from Mr. Howell by placing the burden of the
conversation on him rather than offering too much.
“Well I hope you’re doing okay, son.
Everyone has been pretty worried about you.”
“Really? Why?”
This unexpected question put Mr. Howell on
the spot.
“Well, you’ve got no family, and we just . .
. we . . . we’ve been concerned.”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Mr. Howell.”
Harland flashed a big smile in the man’s direction, a real sincere-looking
expression, before turning to leave.
“Just a minute, son.” The use of “son”
annoyed Harland, but it also alerted him to the presence of an ulterior motive
behind this seemingly friendly exchange with an influential man who had never
spoken to him before.
“Yes?” And Harland waited.
“That land of yours has to be cleaned up,
you know. Have you made plans to get it done?”
This caught Harland off
guard. So glad to be rid of Eulah and the decrepit house, it hadn’t occurred to
him he had ongoing responsibility for the land. Unfortunately, not everything
had burned, and huge piles of junk still filled the otherwise-empty lot.
“I haven’t decided yet what I’ll do with
it.” No hint of the discomfort he felt inside.
“You probably don’t have much use for it,
and it’ll cost a good bit to clean it up. Don’t suppose you have any money for
that do you?”
“Well, I’m looking into
a few things . . .” Harland lied.
“You know, I could take care of it for you.
Buy the land and clean it up so you could get on with your life and not be
bothered with it.”
So that’s it. Excitement quickly replaced
the dread he had been feeling moments before. Mr. Howell’s offer to buy the
land came out of nowhere, and Harland’s shrewdness kicked in immediately.
“Really? That might be good.” Harland
flashed the smile again.
“It’s not worth much, of course. I could
give you $300 for it.”
“It’s a big piece of
land, I think, Mr. Howell. I’ll have to check into it.” Harland needed time to
confirm his belief the lot measured nearly an acre and research the going price
for that much acreage in Montford.
“Maybe $350. We’ll get it taken care of in a
couple of days, then?”
Too eager. It must be
waited for the fire to be extinguished.
“I was trying to light the old kerosene
lamp.”
“When I struck the match, I knocked the lamp
over and everything went up in flames.”
“Don’t know why I
didn’t get burned. Just lucky I guess.”
“I jumped out of the way. I’m an athlete,
you know. I can move fast and I did this time, that’s for sure.”
Eventually they left him alone sitting
outside the smoldering ruins. He breathed in the acrid smoke, a smug,
self-satisfied grin curling the corners of his mouth.
“ Such a
shame! That boy lost his mother and his house all at the same time.” The
sentiment echoed through town, voiced with a thinly disguised suggestion that
it wasn’t a shame at all.
Harland buried Eulah
and, he hoped, his childhood with her. He was sixteen years old. He had a job
at the hardware store downtown and friends he could stay with until he figured
out his next move. That move, when it came, proved a major turning point in his
life.
“You’re
Harland Freeman, aren’t you son?” The well-dressed man asking the question had
stopped Harland as he left work one day. “Didn’t your mama die and your house
over there on Pearson burn down a couple of weeks ago?”
Why is Mr. Howell interested in me? How
come he knows so much about me? Harland
should have been aware that everyone in town knew about him now—not only his
name and where he worked, but many tidbits about his life before he became the talk
of the town. Harland knew Mr. Howell owned the shop two blocks up from the
hardware store. He had accumulated a sizable fortune as one of Asheville’s most
successful businessmen.
“Yes, that’s me.”
Harland knew he would get more from Mr. Howell by placing the burden of the
conversation on him rather than offering too much.
“Well I hope you’re doing okay, son.
Everyone has been pretty worried about you.”
“Really? Why?”
This unexpected question put Mr. Howell on
the spot.
“Well, you’ve got no family, and we just . .
. we . . . we’ve been concerned.”
“I’m fine. Thanks for asking, Mr. Howell.”
Harland flashed a big smile in the man’s direction, a real sincere-looking
expression, before turning to leave.
“Just a minute, son.” The use of “son”
annoyed Harland, but it also alerted him to the presence of an ulterior motive
behind this seemingly friendly exchange with an influential man who had never
spoken to him before.
“Yes?” And Harland waited.
“That land of yours has to be cleaned up,
you know. Have you made plans to get it done?”
This caught Harland off
guard. So glad to be rid of Eulah and the decrepit house, it hadn’t occurred to
him he had ongoing responsibility for the land. Unfortunately, not everything
had burned, and huge piles of junk still filled the otherwise-empty lot.
“I haven’t decided yet what I’ll do with
it.” No hint of the discomfort he felt inside.
“You probably don’t have much use for it,
and it’ll cost a good bit to clean it up. Don’t suppose you have any money for
that do you?”
“Well, I’m looking into
a few things . . .” Harland lied.
“You know, I could take care of it for you.
Buy the land and clean it up so you could get on with your life and not be
bothered with it.”
So that’s it. Excitement quickly replaced
the dread he had been feeling moments before. Mr. Howell’s offer to buy the
land came out of nowhere, and Harland’s shrewdness kicked in immediately.
“Really? That might be good.” Harland
flashed the smile again.
“It’s not worth much, of course. I could
give you $300 for it.”
“It’s a big piece of
land, I think, Mr. Howell. I’ll have to check into it.” Harland needed time to
confirm his belief the lot measured nearly an acre and research the going price
for that much acreage in Montford.
“Maybe $350. We’ll get it taken care of in a
couple of days, then?”
Too eager. It must be
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