"It is the time of the snowshoes in the year 2021
I am going to re-post in its entirety a fictional story from my old blog, starting the tales of Mill Forge District Ranger John Farmer and "Christmas in the Forest". I am working on two more Old Ranger short stories. Hopefully, one of them will be done before Christmas.
(Note: This was my first fiction story, before Connor, Iolena, Menta Kai, and yes, John Farmer ever set foot in the Gewellyn Chronicles. It is loosely based on a story from the Adirondacks by William Chapman White and another from the Bitteroot Mountains of Montana by Norman MacLean. It takes place in neither, although the atmosphere of the story suggests the northeast more than the Rockies. It takes us back to a time where the forest ranger was more part of the community, and the ranger could resolve a violation by an agreement called a "stipulation". It is fiction, and John Farmer, Peter Quinn, and Taylor Clark were the main characters in my attempts at fiction for many years.)
The gently falling snow muffled the sound of the
horse's hooves as District Forest Ranger John Farmer rode down
the main street of Mill Forge that evening, a few days before Christmas. The
village was quiet, most of the folks were in their houses, busy with
preparations for Christmas, as was John's own family. He had stopped by the
house to drop off a surprise for his grandson, then headed into town to finish
the paperwork on a timber theft case. The township constable, Lew Breck,
rumbled by in his 4-door Ford Model T and waved at the ranger, as he went by,
but if he said anything, it was lost in the clatter from the car. John returned
the wave and rode on down Main Street to where the State Police barracks
sat, it's windows dark. He climbed down off of Hanna and led her back to the
trooper's stable behind the station. took the saddle and bridle off the horse
and let her into the corral.
He looked back at the "barracks", really a converted house, threw
his saddlebags over his shoulder and headed down the alley to the Tall Pine
Tavern for some dinner. He'd be back when the troopers got back from their
rounds and turn in the stipulation form to them.
The Tall Pine was warm and smelled vaguely of woodsmoke, Woody, the
owner's pipe tobacco and beer. A fire was going in the fireplace, and John
stopped to warm his hands for a few minutes. Woody sidled over to the ranger, a
mug in his hand. "Usual, John?" he asked, as he offered the steaming
cup of coffee to John. "You're keeping late hours tonight, ranger."
John nodded his thanks, and took the hot cup in both hands. "Yeah,
I am. Got to finish up the paperwork on a tree theft before I can call it a
day. What do you have that's good and hot?"
"Well, we have some Irish stew, the usual pot roast and I may have
some hot turkey with gravy left if you're interested."
"Any cranberry sauce with that turkey?"
"I think we can find some around someplace, just because it's for
you." Woody grinned.
"That sounds really good, then." John threw another log on the
fire, and sat down at a table nearby, as the smell of the rich, black coffee
obscured the other scents in the room. After a few minutes, Woody returned with
a plate piled high with turkey, gravy and potatoes and a serving of real
cranberry sauce. John ate quietly, alternately looking out the window, then at
the fire in the fireplace. As he finished the last cranberry, John saw the
two gray riders on their big black horses, float past the window. He wiped his
mouth, stood, and pulled on his red wool coat, then put his Stetson on his
head, and walked over to the bar. "What do I owe you?" he queried.
"On the house, John. Merry Christmas!" Woody answered.
Farmer looked at the proprietor with a mixture of amusement and admonition
and pushed two bills across the bar. "Okay, keep the change, and..." John
paused. "Hey Woody, how old is that oldest son of yours now?"
"Almost seven. Why?" Woody was curious.
"I remembered you saying it was about time to get him a dog of his
own. I wondered if you'd gotten one for him.
Woody shook his head. "Haven't had the time to even look. Would be
a good Christmas present, though."
"You know Alex Ivanavich over on the Moose Lake Road?"
Woody nodded. "Sure. Russian Alexi. He sometimes stops in when he
has money for a beer or some vodka. I get the feeling things are pretty tight
for him a lot of the time. Never has more than one drink. Always pays cash.
Never asks for a tab. Nice guy from what I know."
John nodded. "Well, this is one of those tight times for him and
his family, what being Christmas and all. He has some really nice lab puppies.
Ought to make good hunting dogs. He said he would sell most of them if he
could. I bought one for my daughter's son. If you're interested, I'd get out
there. I think they'll likely sell really fast. He's only asking ten bucks
each."
"Hey, that sounds really good John. I'll try and get out there in
the morning. My kids would love that!" Woody picked up the two dollars and
walked down the bar.
Out in the street, Constable Breck was driving by again, and John
flagged him down. "What's up, ranger?"
"Hi Lew. Hey, I was out at Russian Alexi's place on the Moose
Lake Road, and he has some nice lab puppies for sale for ten bucks each, if you
know anybody looking for a good hunting dog for a Christmas present. I'd
appreciate if you would tell them about it. He's a bit short for the holidays
and selling the puppies would really help his family out. I bought one for our Tricia's
boy." he affirmed.
Lew rolled his eyes. "I will keep it in mind. My wife would never
let me have another dog right now, but if I hear of anyone looking, I'll send
them his way." He looked at the ranger, "They should be good
dogs...he always seems to do well during bird season."
"Yep, that's what I was thinking. How's the car doing?" John
asked as he pulled his head back from the vehicle.
"Way of the future, ranger. Way of the future. I can get from one
end of the township to the other in less than a half hour!" The constable
was beaming.
"I suppose, but I can still get a lot more places with Hanna than I
can with one of those," John grinned. The other officer grinned back, waved,
and pulled away from the tavern, spraying gravel and snow as he left.
Light was showing through the windows of the state troopers’ billet as
he walked down the street. Farmer climbed the steps and entered the warm police
station. "Well, well. What brings the district ranger of the state
forestry commission to the office of the state police so late on a
December evening?" Staff Sergeant Jerry Doerghty actually had a bit of an
Irish lilt to his voice, despite being the second generation of his family in
the U.S. "I thought I recognized your nag out in the back. I put
her in the barn with our mounts, to keep warm"
John pulled the Stipulation Agreement and ten dollar fine out of his
saddlebag. "I have a timber theft stipulation here for you to give to the
judge on Friday. "Hey, Jerry. Know anybody in the market for a nice lab pup?
They might be a great present for someone's kid, or grandkid," he added
with emphasis.
"We're looking to get a dog." Doerghty's partner, 'Chik'
Serenza said, as he came in from the rear of the station. Serenza and his wife
had moved to Mills Forge the previous summer, after he finished the new academy
the troopers had opened. They were city folk, and it had not been an easy
adjustment for the young, recently married couple, particularly Johanna who had
only passed through Ellis Island from Poland a half-dozen years
earlier. "Hopefully, it will help my wife feel more at ease while I'm on
post." Doerghty started to say something, but evidently thought the better
of it, and went back to his desk work.
"Well, they are only pups, about ten weeks old." Farmer
responded. "Alex Ivanavich over on the Moose Lake Road has some
really nice lab puppies. Been pretty tight times for him and his family, what
being Christmas and all. He said he would sell most of them if he could. I
bought one for my grandson. He's only asking ten bucks each."
"Thanks, ranger." Chik nodded at John. "I'll head out
there later in the week."
"You never know," Doerghty put in. "We might head by
there on patrol in the next day or so," he said with a smile. He reached
for the paperwork the ranger had placed on his desk. "What do we have
here...Hmm, took a fir for a Christmas tree. Settled by District Ranger Farmer,
for ten dollars and admission of guilt. Subject's name...." The trooper
paused and looked at the forest ranger. "...Alexsander Nikoliavich Ivanavich."
He looked up at John, who was buttoning his coat back up. "I don't suppose
you took the fir tree in for evidence?"
"Didn't see much point in it really." John smiled. "Too
many puppies in the way." He opened the door, and over his shoulder, said,
"Merry Christmas, guys."
"Merry Christmas, Ranger," Sergeant Doerghty replied. He and
Trooper Serenza watched out the window a few minutes later, as the Ranger on
his brown mountain horse, rode down the main street of town, back towards his
cabin in the forest.
Epilogue: A few days later the forest ranger ran into
Russian Alexi at the local store. The stocky woodsman looked at the ranger, and
in broken English told him, "All the puppies are sold. Two big policemen came,
and Mister Woody and other people came." He smiled a big smile, "We
had very good Christmas! Very good! Thank you, Mr. Ranger!"
"Well, sir," John replied, "I know my grandson really loves his
puppy. Happy New Year to you and your family, Alexi." He tipped his
Stetson and headed back out into the forest.
