Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica: Chapter 17 (Book 3)

(Psst: The FTC wants me to remind you that this website contains affiliate links. That means if you make a purchase from a link you click on, I might receive a small commission. This does not increase the price you'll pay for that item nor does it decrease the awesomeness of the item. ~ Daisy)

By the author of Dear Diary: It’s Me, Jessica: The Second Year

In case you missed the last chapter, you can find it here.

Dear Diary,

It’s me, Jessica.

I was helping Dad stack the last of the firewood in the garage for the winter when Mom came around the corner.

“Looking good,” She said as she admired the neatly stacked rows of split wood, taking up three-fourths of the garage.

“Well, we still had two full rows from last winter, so we did not need as much,” Dad replied as he looked the stacks over. There was only about a inch or two between the top of the stacks and the garage door when it was rolled up. We had gotten the wood from Mr. Miller. He had a gas-operated wood splitter, but once they ran out of fuel, he could not use it. Dad removed the hydraulic ram, and replaced it with a vehicle bottle jack on its side. It was still faster and easier than using an ax or a maul and sledgehammer. For Dad’s ingenuity and the jack, we got this winter’s seasoned and split firewood, and we will get another next year. It took three hauls with the Percherons and the flatbed, but Mr. Miller said it was well worth it.

Subscribe to our newsletter

Trying to figure out how to stock up while prices keep climbing? We can help with our free guide and newsletter!
view pixel

“Did either one of you put a pile of rocks on the table by the outdoor oven?” Mom asked.

Dad and I looked at each other puzzled and shook our heads.

“Well, there is a pile of rocks on the table.”

The three of us walked around the house to the back patio where the outdoor oven and the prepping table were. Sure enough, in the center of the table, were three round rocks about the size of my palm, with three flat rocks stacked on top.

“That’s weird,” I said.

Dad looked at the rocks from different angles then around the yard and even into the sky.

“What are you doing?” Mom asked.

“Just wondering if there is some kind of significance, that is all.”

“Maybe Rae or one of the other girls is playing a joke on us. I will go and ask.” I strolled to Rae’s place.

“Come inside,” Rae said and opened the front door wide to let me in, but it was more like a command after I asked if she or one of the girls had put the rocks on our table as a joke. I followed her into the kitchen. The other girls sat around the kitchen table, having breakfast of bread and fruit, surprised by my early-morning visit.

Rae went directly to the back sliding glass door and pointed.

Out on their patio was a large outdoor fire pit with four Adirondack chairs around it. On the wide edge of the fire pit was a small pile of rocks, about the same size as the ones on our table and arranged the same way.

“You or one of the girls did not do that?” I asked, looking through the glass.

“Nope. They were just as surprised as me.”

“That is weird.”

“Tell me about it. I am not keen on the idea of someone sneaking around, putting piles of rocks here and there, even if they mean it as a joke.”

“It’s creepy.”

“I agree. Let’s go talk to Jack.”

Part two

Jack looked at us questioningly and took a sip of his coffee after we finished explaining the piles of rocks. We sat at a small round wooden table in his small kitchen with our own cups of coffee. Jack’s home was about half the size of ours, but it was two stories, whereas ours was ranch-style, and he did have a cellar. It was clean but a bit on the sparse side with no pictures or any kind of decorations. Jack was not one for knick-knacks. But he did have bookshelves everywhere filled with books. Absentmindedly, I scratched Sampson behind the big dog’s ears. The puppies were napping on the floor.

“Okay,” Jack finally responded. “I’ll get my things. Sampson, the puppies, and I will come over and have a look.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sampson and the puppies circled Rae’s fire pit several times after Jack gave the “track” command.

“Jack,” Rae asked, “What are they doing?”

“I don’t know. They smell something, but they aren’t locking onto a scent. They just keep going in circles.”

“Maybe we should try my house. The scent might be stronger there,” I suggested.

Sampson and the puppies did the exact same thing at my house. They went in circles around the prep table just as they did at the fire pit at Rae’s house.

“This does not make any sense,” Jack said after he gave the command for the dogs to stop tracking. “Let me and the boys take a look around.”

Jack and the boys looked around the yard, the fence gate, the side yard, and then the front yard. After twenty minutes, Jack, Sampson and the puppies returned.

“I did not find a thing. Sampson and the puppies picked up on something in spots but nothing leading to a trail. No tracks either.”

“What should we do?” Rae asked.

“Let’s get the word out; we might have a practical joker lurking about. Might be one of the neighbors. If more high weirdness appears, might have to organize night patrols.”

Part three

Two mornings later, more high weirdness appeared.

Another small pile of rocks sat at the end of our driveway.

Rae’s driveway too.

And even Jack’s.

Mom and the rest of the council called for a community meeting.

Others reported similar piles of rocks in various places. Front and back porches, driveways. Jack took Sampson and the puppies around but like earlier, Sampson and the puppies would find a spot of profound interest, but went nowhere. Jack did not find any tracks either.

A few people were concerned about whether this person was dangerous.

“Well,” Rae started. “Aside from the rock piles, they have not done anything suggesting they are dangerous or even criminal. We have dealt with people stealing food from us before.”

“I have a few game cameras. If I can get a charge from you,” Jack said to HAM Guy, “I could hide them in a few places and see if we can get a look at who the joker is.”

“Sure thing Jack. Just bring the cameras by later.”

“Jack, you said something about night patrols,” Mom asked.

“Let me try the game cameras first, see what we are dealing with. Then we might be able to set up a trap. Jessica, could you ride out to Katie and her group, see if they have seen anything or had rock piles show up?”

“On it, Jack.”

Part four

“That is weird,” Katie said with a furrowed brow, tipping her cowboy hat back.

We were sitting out front of their odd-looking tents. Katie’s people were going about their chores, tending to cooking fires, preparing for that evening’s meal. A dozen or so men on horseback rode slowly along with small herds of cattle, goats, or sheep as the livestock grazed in the distance. Working dogs trotted alongside. They would return before dusk and put the livestock into the pens they had set up. Like Four Corners, Katie’s camp had its own energy and pace.

“So, you have not seen any odd rock piles?”

“No. But with the livestock and the dogs, someone would be hard-pressed to get close to camp without alerting us. And we sleep pretty light.”

I nodded, thinking. I told her of Jack’s plan to put out game cameras and maybe a trap. I looked up at the sun, it was slowly heading for the horizon. I put up my hand with my fingers just below the bottom edge of the sun and the horizon. Four fingers. About an hour of sun light left. A trick Jack taught me: each finger was about fifteen minutes of sunlight.

“I best be on my way, if I want to be home before dark.”

“Yes, I would like you to be home before then too, with this rock person about,” Katie agreed.

“If we see anything, or something new turns up, we will let you know.”

“Same here, Jessica. Tell everyone I said hello.”

“Will do.”

I got on my horse and headed for home. It was only about a thirty-minute ride, but I put the horse into a quicker canter. The tree shadows were growing longer on the road. I adjusted my rifle across my saddle, feeling oddly exposed.

I was coming up to the turn off that lead home, when I pulled my horse up short to a stop.

There, in the middle of the road, was a pile of rocks.

It had not there when I left for Katie’s.

About 1stMarineJarHead

1stMarineJarHead is not only a former Marine but also a former EMT-B, Wilderness EMT (courtesy of NOLS), and volunteer firefighter.

He currently resides in the great white (i.e. snowy) Northeast with his wife and dogs. He raises chickens, rabbits, goats, occasionally hogs, cows and sometimes ducks. He grows various veggies and has a weird fondness for rutabagas. He enjoys reading, writing, cooking from scratch, making charcuterie, target shooting, and is currently expanding his woodworking skills.

Picture of 1stMarineJarHead

1stMarineJarHead

Leave a Reply

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

One Response

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Halloween Goodies

Support the OP: Click Here to shop at Amazon
✕
You Need More Than Food to Survive

In the event of a long-term disaster, there are non-food essentials that can be vital to your survival and well-being. Make certain you have these 50 non-food stockpile essentials. Sign up for your FREE report and get prepared.

We respect your privacy.