RUDIMENTS, pt. 1,306
(the emperor of nothing, pt. EIGHT)
I did leave, simply thanking him
the time we'd spent, enjoying the
thoughts and previews ad the
refreshments, and saying I'd be
back - to which he eagerly said
'Yes, please, anytime.' He walked
my down to my truck, which was
parked a ways off along the road,
by the sign announcing the no
entrance stuff. A number of dogs
were walking with us - I'm not sure
sure how many, nor how many I'd
seen. They frisked and frolicked
all along, seemingly at ease with
being loose and free, and familiar
with the land. It was nice. Along
the way I asked him what the
condition of the woods was, here,
when he first arrived - he said
'forested, more heavily than this,
and I cleared a lot over the years,
and, of course, as the other houses
came in they cleared too. Silly
people. Down that far end over
there, (pointing right, and down)
they put in two sort of ring roads,
named 'Delia Drive' and 'Catchall
Lane,' and that's where most of the
other houses sit - never really
bothering me and not much even
seen nor visible from where I'm at.
They're lower-elevated than my
place, which at least has some
height and view out to the river.
Summer's the worst - they like
cookouts and gatherings and group
picnics and all that. Tight bunch
of communal types, once they get
going. I seldom see, but I know
what goes on. Once it gets cold,
I mostly see nobody.' I asked who
plows, and he said the local town
and county eventually get trucks
here, Berlin, Damascus, Beach
Lake, Wayne County, whatever.
I do my own accesses with one
of my engines. Sometimes it's
worse than other times. All that
you can see out there, (pointing),
is the other side of the river, and
that's New York and Narrowsburg -
got nothing to do with us. Funny
you mention about the trees - they
change, In 40 years some species or
specimens get hit and die off, and
another started replacing them. It's
like that now with the ash trees,
you can see 'em all dying off;
some miserable Asian bug. We
seem to get all their shit, freaky
Chinks - insects, bugs, alien trees
and shrubs that then wreck everything
old and American. The whole land
has changed in 400 years. Second
or third cuttings - trees and species
long gone. Elms, spruces, things
fade. Up atop that hill there, don't
know if you know it or not, (he
pointed way out to the area where
Cortese met Peggy Runway) that's
a high point, above the falls, where
the USS Constitution - an early
American Navy frigate - got its
main mast from. Cutters scouted it,
and they came all the way here to
cut it and haul it away - musta' one
grand old tree. Some people know
about it, and there a little marker up
there too - where there used to be a
1700's or 1800's little inn or lodging.'
-
Yeah, I let it go; but I'd heard that
story before - I kept finding it to be
unproven, maybe a cool local myth
they like the boasting of. I didn't
know, but I wasn't about to slap
him down without proper evidence.
What mattered of it anyway? He
was welcome to the credit if he
wanted it. Maybe had, and they, had
the wrong ship, and, anyway, I'd been
up there and there really wasn't much
of anything except an arduous and
ridiculous climb. For a tall tree? And
how'd they get it down from there?
-
He showed me a shack a little off. 'See
that? That's mine, but I never use it -
though the kids do. 'Fornication Motel,'
I call it. I really ought to charge the
bastards. They leave their crap all
about. Girl's underwear, used-up
condoms, and bottles too.'
-
Life in these parts gets brittle, I guess,
but it has its good points too. I didn't
tell him that. We got down by my truck
and I said my good-byes, but with an
enthusiasm too that he liked and that
I knew would be bringing me back.
-
When I got back home (funny adjunct)
I looked up the origination of 'Cortese'
Road. There wasn't much info, except
that there had been, yes, a guy named
Cortese. He ran the woods, and did a
lot of the initial logging of the 1950's.
My local friend, Bob, of whom I
asked some information, said this
Cortese guy, by the mid-80's (dead now)
was brough up on charges - but got
away with it all. Apparently, part
of the reason for the road was that
he was taking illicit money from
Jersey garbage haulers and allowing
them to dump in the wooded clearings
he'd opened up. They come 125
miles with their garbage-haul rigs
and just dump the shit where he told
them. Hell of a story, right? Maybe
soon enough I'll mention it - in a
roundabout fashion, to old Jack
Stove, to see what he might know
about it all.
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