text.skipToContent text.skipToNavigation

The Campaign of Cole Stevenson A Story of Life in Rural 1950's Missouri von Sutton, Dale D. (eBook)

  • Erscheinungsdatum: 14.04.2016
  • Verlag: BookBaby
eBook (ePUB)
3,19 €
inkl. gesetzl. MwSt.
Sofort per Download lieferbar

Online verfügbar

The Campaign of Cole Stevenson

A story that takes place in a small fictional town and county in rural southwest Missouri, mid-1950's. Cole Stevenson is a young man running for State Representative, and the story revolves around his campaign and the many colorful people he encounters along the way.


    Format: ePUB
    Kopierschutz: none
    Seitenzahl: 200
    Erscheinungsdatum: 14.04.2016
    Sprache: Englisch
    ISBN: 9781483566856
    Verlag: BookBaby
    Größe: 416kBytes
Weiterlesen weniger lesen

The Campaign of Cole Stevenson

Chapter 1 Rural Southeast Missouri, 1955 A spotlessly clean black 1953 Chevrolet pickup with a chrome grill and wide white sidewall tires rolled to a quiet stop without stirring up any dust. The engine continued to run for about ten seconds, then stopped. Another ten seconds passed, and the driver's side door opened slowly. A leg extended out the side and one hand held onto the door as the other gripped the steering wheel. Movement stopped, muscles tensed, and the driver held himself locked in an isometric position, still as a statue. The driver was just over six-foot-one and weighed about 185 pounds. He had thick, slightly wavy, sandy-blonde hair, and blue eyes that were squinting slightly in the bright sunlight. He was an amalgam of Irish, Welsh, and Cherokee Indian. His arms were tanned, as was his face, but there was no doubt that he would blister if not careful in the broiling hot Missouri sun. He wore Levi's and a short-sleeved blue chambrey shirt. Cole Stevenson was in good physical condition but was not a muscled-up Charles Atlas type. Most anyone would have described him as a good-looking man. All at once the driver reversed his actions and repositioned himself back behind the steering wheel. He closed the door, leaned forward, turned the key, and the engine started. The truck slowly started backing up but after going back about fifteen feet, it stopped again and the engine continued to idle for nearly a minute. There was a slight mechanical noise and the pickup slowly rolled forward and stopped in its previous position. The engine was turned off, the door reopened, and Cole got out of the truck, firmly shut the door, locked it, and started walking towards a barely perceptible path that led into thick vegetation consisting of willows, alders, witch hazel, cedars, and occasional six- to ten-inch diameter maples, sycamores, and cottonwoods. Cole stopped, turned, and looked back towards the pickup which was barely visible when he peered through the brush. He hesitated for a while, bent in a near crouch, and looked around. He started back to the truck again, ducking under some low tree branches, but then slowly wheeled around again and continued along the path away from his vehicle. The path was carpeted with bright green moss, low-growing grass and honeysuckle vines. The path gradually sloped down to a limestone bluff streaked with green moss that grew in the cracks that held a bit of detritus, soil, and runoff moisture. The path ended amidst a collection of boulders, some half as large as an automobile. Cole extended both arms and felt his was to a sheer drop-off and cautiously bent forward, looking over the edge to a large pool of translucent blue water. The pool was fed by a rippling shoal at its upper end and drained from the lower end through a mass of billion-year-old granite rocks, rubbed slick by the sand-laden spring flooding that had occurred from the time the St. Francis Mountains were first thrust up. At one time the surrounding mountains had been as high as the present-day Alps. Cole dropped down on all fours and slowly crawled several feet to his right, eased his torso up slightly, and sat down in a yard-square opening that was shaped precisely like a large easy chair. He propped his feet up on a slab of limestone that made a rock-solid ottoman. He had approached so quietly that the fish and minnows suspended in the pool of blue water didn't even notice. His eyes shifted to the upper end of the pool and Cole watched as individual patches of glistening, foamy bubbles spread out in the pool. The silvery patches slowly floated to the lower end of the pool and then coalesced into a single ribbon of foam that narrowed like a stretched elastic band. The ribbon of foam picked up speed and ran through a narrow opening, then br

Weiterlesen weniger lesen