The Mailbox
Chapter One
Chapter 1
Vernon Culligan was as good as dead to the town of Drayford, Virginia, for so long that when he actually died, not many folks noticed. For decades, his bloodshot eyes, permanent three-day stubble, rifle held over his head, and snarl meaner than a coon dog's had naturally taught everyone to keep a good distance from his property line. The postal delivery truck did venture all the way to the teetering mailbox, and mail was regularly delivered through its yawning trap into the dark, corrugated steel tunnel. Outgoing letters, mostly bill payments, were collected, the addresses written in shaky black ink, as if little spider legs had grouped themselves into crooked letters. Such was the old man's communication with the world.
Twelve-year-old Gable Culligan Pace lived with his uncle in Vernon's simple home cradled within a valley west of Virginia's Blue Ridge, north of Roanoke County. Gabe had arrived in early spring, two and a half years before. Woodland rhododendrons had splashed their purple heads against spikes of sage green as Gabe whizzed by in the backseat of a social worker's Ford Escort.
Over the space of time and in the shadow of the mountains ... read full excerpt from The Mailbox ebook
