The Edenbury Chronicles - Vol 2 - Chapter 22

Eric scoured the supply closet until he found what he was looking for. On the bottom shelf, next to a case of paper towels, was his old manual typewriter. The iron behemoth was one of the few survivors of the Chronicle fire. Eric thought it might be appropriate to use for his big article—but he doubted the machine worked.

He lifted the beast from the shelf and managed to carry it back to his new desk. Eric unplugged the fancy new electric machine he’d been using and put it aside.

This was the first time he paid any attention to the old machine since the fire. Wiping the soot and grime from every area he could reach, Eric sat down and loaded the antique with a fresh sheet of paper. He found his fingers badly out of shape but managed to test the alphabet successfully.

The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog.

“It works!” he exclaimed to himself. Then he ripped out the sheet of paper and loaded another.

All night he had been thinking about the challenge set before him by Zeke and Father Vance. Did he really have what it took to write this story? Was his perspective really important? Would anyone care? Then he thought, if he had questions and doubts about the miraculous, as well as disappointment from the actions of others, then other people probably did too.

Without further hesitation, Eric began pounding at the keys and wrote from his gut. There was something visceral about the force required to hit every key. Words flowed violently. The oak desk resonated like the tone of an old guitar, and the snap of every letter against the page bounced around the room. 

He didn’t hold back when it came to the hurt of the Chronicle office burning down, being out of work for months, the scandal with the mayor, or even finding out Heathrow had secretly funded the paper for decades so they could monitor the supernatural in Edenbury. He wrote about how things went quiet after the rocks were destroyed and the dark winter that followed. After Eric figuratively and literally beat that topic to death, the story pivoted on a single line.

Then spring came. 

Eric recalled how he would use his binoculars to look for stories out the Chronicle office window. And how he observed adults learning to hear again as they were led by little children in the park. He had been a spectator. He thought Edenbury was boring, and he wrote an unkind story about the girls and Heaven just because he wanted to sell newspapers.

Then he stumbled.

He wrote all about Rascal Rock and how he blamed others for putting the rock in his way and then demanded an investigation. But when his rock started growing on him, he began to see things differently. 

Then came the desk. Eric stopped typing and sat back for a moment to recall when Zeke and Father Vance pulled up with the Warren wood desk in the back of Henry’s truck.

After he finished the part about the desk, he wrote about the hacking incident and the day he met Olivia Gregory, the amazing daughter of the late Father Gregory. 

The article was shaping up nicely, he thought. He brought it to a close by telling about the elk and being locked in the back of a squad car to go smell flowers. 

Eric had never been so moved by his own writing. He now saw himself as a willing participant in the story of Edenbury, not just a critical observer.

After some final closing thoughts, his sore fingers pulled the last page out of the old typewriter. 

—

Zeke and Lucy were still very much in the holding hands stage of their marriage and were loving every minute of it. The newlyweds spent much of their time on the balcony off the library, watching the sunset or waving at neighbors walking by.

Zeke laid his head back in what had become his favorite chair. “Where can we find a bus?”

Lucy turned to her husband. ”We need a bus?”

“Yes, on Friday, we’ll need a bus,” he replied. “We’ll all need to be in Ames Hill first thing Saturday morning, so we should go Friday Night and stay at the motel.”

“I have a better idea,” Lucy announced. “Bruce Davies has a motorhome. You know, an RV. A big one.”

“He’s probably not using it,” Zeke figured. “But we’ll need a driver, so he’ll have to go with us.”

“But he’s on house arrest.”

“I’m sure Sheriff Stephanie can work that out,” Zeke replied. “Maybe he can just stay in the RV. They could call it motorhome arrest.” 

Lucy nodded. “I’ll clear it with Stephanie, and we can talk to Mr. Davies at church tomorrow. I think he’ll be excited to help.”

“With Olivia and Eric, that will make seven of us.”

Lucy turned to Zeke. “I hate to bring up a problem, but how are we going to prove the Winholder Group plans to shut down the paper mill?”

“We let them,” Zeke said calmly. “What we can’t do is allow them to destroy the old nursing home. Or the hill itself, of course.”

“Right, but I thought the closure of the largest employer in the area was a bad thing.”

Zeke turned to Lucy. “The people of the town are going to buy the paper mill back and own it themselves.”

“And just how are they going to do that?”

Zeke laid his head back again and closed his eyes. “We’re going to help them.”

—

Each new week at St. Paul’s brought visitors to the church, and Father Vance was always excited to see who would turn up. Before the service, he wandered through the aisles and greeted churchgoers old and new alike. 

Off in one of the corners, Father Vance recognized two men. It took him a few moments to recall where he saw them last. On his way to say hello, he remembered it was the men from Mr. Clemmons’ house with the elk. Their dark, tired suits had been replaced by more casual attire, but the men looked just as run-down without them. Father Vance could sense there was also something else different about them.

“We’re here on our own,” said the taller man. “And we’d like to talk to you somewhere private.”

“My office after church?” asked Father Vance. “With my wife, if that is acceptable.”

“That would be nice. Thank you.”

Father Vance smiled. “We’ll look for you then.”

The church service proceeded as usual with lively hymns and scripture readings that once again cemented a sense of community among the participants. Even those who didn’t know the songs seemed eager to sing along and receive the message. Father Vance loved ministering to the congregation and thought about Father Gregory often when he did.

As he stood delivering his message, Father Vance felt a new confidence about the future. Whether it was Edenbury, Ames Hill, or beyond, he could sense a shift in momentum. And while his message that day had little to do with creation groaning or the coming kingdom, it felt good to know those things were becoming a greater reality all around them. 

Looking around the sanctuary, Father Vance realized this new confidence had nothing to do with large crowds or even his own striving. And for that, he was grateful. 

When it came time for the closing prayer, he simply gave thanks, blessed the congregation, and said amen. 

After the service, Zeke, Lucy, and Olivia were joined by Eric on the church lawn. Eric handed Zeke a copy of his newspaper article.

“Zeke, I wanted to give you a little preview,” he said. “I think you’ll like it.”

Olivia interrupted. “Oh, I know he will,” she said to Eric. “I’ve read your story, and it’s amazing.”

Zeke flipped through the pages. “I look forward to reading it, Eric,” he said. “Have you got an idea for the headline?”

“I have a couple of days to work that out,” he replied. “The Chronicle will publish it on Wednesday, and more than thirty newspapers have interest at this point, thanks to Olivia.”

Zeke turned to Olivia. “Then I think you know what you get to do on Wednesday.”

“Do you mean—”

“Yes,” said Zeke. “It will be time to contact Andrea Glenn.”

Father Vance and Sheriff Stephanie found the two men and led them to the church office. 

They were shown to some chairs, but the taller of the two men could barely get seated before opening up.

“I haven’t been able to sleep for days,” he said. “Since you introduced us to the elk.”

“And we’ve been thinking about what you said,” the shorter man added.

“Let’s back up,” suggested Father Vance. “Are you comfortable telling us your names?”

“The name is Jack,” said the taller man.

“I’m Craig.”

“Good to officially meet you, Jack and Craig. I’m glad you were at church today.”

“No one can know we’re here,” Jack began. “We’re taking a big risk but needed to talk some more. I think we’re both having a change of heart as it relates to our line of work.”

“It does seem that there’s something bigger happening, and we don’t like the roles we’re playing,” Craig added. “To put it in your terms.”

Stephanie pulled up a chair next to the men. “I’m curious. What did you think of those elk the other day?” she asked. 

Jack and Craig looked at each other and laughed.

“They were great,” said Jack. “But since then, we’ve seen much stranger things.”

“Things that have convinced us we needed to talk with you today,” added Craig. “Because we need your help.”

For the next thirty minutes, Jack and Craig recounted the week they’d had since being at the home of Mr. Clemmons. They avoided incriminating themselves in any way, and Father Vance and Stephanie didn’t pressure them. They listened thoughtfully and enjoyed hearing about the experiences of the two men. It seemed their week was filled with the supernatural, and the elk were just the tip of the iceberg. 

When the men rose to leave, they all shook hands. 

“Father Vance, I apologize for what I said about your sermons. I hope we have the opportunity to talk more in the future,” Jack said. “But I know we have some things to face. If there is still a place in that coming kingdom you talked about, count me in.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” the priest replied. “I trust we’ll be able to talk again.”

Stephanie turned to Jack and Craig. “It took a lot of courage to come here today,” she said. “Thank you for your bravery.”

As Father Vance watched the men leave, that confident feeling arose again. He took his wife by the hand, and they headed to brunch. 

—

Wednesday morning, Eric arrived at the Chronicle office and made his way to the coffee maker. Olivia was standing at the phone, finishing a call.

“I lost count,” said Olivia as she hung up.

Eric began making a fresh pot. “Of?” he asked.

“I lost count of the number of newspapers that ran your article this morning,” she explained. “It was way more than thirty, and calls are coming in from everywhere. I couldn’t get to the messages on the machine because the phone won't stop ringing.”

“How long have you been here?” he asked.

“That was the third call I’ve taken,” Olivia replied. “They have very interesting stories, and the headline is resonating with readers. Apparently, we’re not alone when it comes to ‘Living in a Miracle Town.’”

The phone rang again.

“We need to get these stories to Andrea,” said Eric. “You type, and I’ll talk.”

Olivia let Eric take over and got ready to type at the computer desk. 

Eric greeted the caller. “You don’t say? Strange things are happening in your garden? Giant vegetables?”

Olivia began typing while Eric made funny faces and tried to stretch the phone cord to the coffee maker.

“Ma’am, I think the vegetables are safe to eat, but it could take you a while. Maybe you could share with your neighbors,” he suggested. “Okay, thanks for calling.”

Their laughter was interrupted by the phone again.

“You say there’s a line at your church to talk to someone?” Eric asked. “Yes, I understand you don’t want to wait until Sunday. I guess you’ll just have to be patient. Okay, nice talking to you as well. Goodbye.”

Eric and Olivia spent the morning taking turns answering the phone and taking notes. For each call, they documented the name of the town and what was being reported. After the first hour of non-stop calls, Olivia sent an email to Andrea Glenn with the stories. After doing so, Eric turned on the small television in the corner of the Chronicle office.

Within minutes, a Breaking News announcement appeared with Andrea at the news desk. Beside her was co-anchor Dave Jenkins.

“The little town of Edenbury, Kansas, is making waves again this morning,” Andrea reported. “It seems a story by local reporter Eric Finch has been circulating among other towns in the region, and it is getting quite a response.”

“She said your name!” Olivia yelled.

Dave Jenkins continued the announcement. “According to sources, the tell-all story titled ‘Living in a Miracle Town’ comes from the perspective of a former skeptic. In it, he provides a behind-the-scenes look at not only what took place in Edenbury but what is happening now.” 

“Other communities are reporting miraculous and unexplained acts of nature resulting in great interest in the supernatural,” continued Andrea. “And based on a report from Olivia Gregory at the Edenbury Chronicle, churches of all kinds are bursting at the seams trying to answer questions.”

Olivia began jumping up and down, screaming. “She said my name! She said my name!”

Eric laughed out loud.

“As we have reported here in the past,” said Dave, “the activity in Edenbury ended up exposing election fraud and a cover-up between a local politician and the Heathrow Insurance Company. Will conspiracies like this be uncovered in other towns? We’ll be tracking this story carefully as things develop.”

For the next two hours, Eric and Olivia documented the phone calls and sent emails to Andrea at the cable news station. Not long after, calls of a different type began coming in from leaders with statements of their own. Not about the supernatural things taking place but about their hidden relationships and actions taken to stop them. 

“Sir,” Eric told a city councilman from one town, “I’m going to tell you what I told the others. If you have a statement for the press, you’ll want to send it to the newsroom at the attention of Andrea Glenn. I can give you their fax number.”

Olivia turned back to the television to see another report from Andrea.

“Apparently, reporter Eric Finch has struck a nerve,” Andrea said. “Aside from reports of mysterious acts of nature, his exposé on what happened in Edenbury is sparking controversy in other miracle towns. It seems local leaders are starting to see the writing on the wall. We have a number of statements from those attempting to explain actions and relationships that could be seen as opposing the miraculous in their community.”

After lunch, Eric and Olivia took a break to take in what was happening.

“This thing is starting to snowball,” said Olivia. “And it’s all going to end in Ames Hill. And we’re going to be there.”

“Zeke was serious about that?” asked Eric.

“He needs us to go with them. We have to stop the Winholder Group from destroying Ames Hill, and we’re going to do it in Mayor Davies’ RV.”

 Eric raised his eyebrows. “I’ll have to say, that sounds like an epic road trip,” he said as the phone rang again. “But right now, we have calls to answer.”

—

Read Chapter 23 (the last!) now.

The Edenbury Chronicles - Vol 2 - Chapter 23

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June 10, 2023

Friday night, Bruce Davies pulled the RV into the parking lot of the Ames Hill Motel. Lucy had called ahead to see if they could park overnight, and before long, Mr. Barney knocked on the door of the motorhome. Lucy greeted him. “It’s so good to see you again,” she said. “Thank you for allowing us to park here.”