Hortons Bend

are terminated as of this very second! I warned you and I warned you! Now you leave me no choice!” Brody stepped back from her to explain but she confronted him again. This time she began to jab her finger into his chest as she raged. “Mr. Brody what do you have in your hands? Never mind. Hand it over immediately!”she fumed. Barbara Peabody’s jabs soon turned into clawing attempts to jerk the package from him. She almost succeeded but the alcohol and the pills were now affecting her greatly. Her slippery, sweaty hands finally managed to pull the object from Brody but she fell as it came loose. The robust woman toppled one way and the ancient package fell a few feet from her. Immediately she sat up but looked about in confusion. She suddenly felt a presence around her and indeed there was one. Mrs. Peabody could not have been more stunned when she found herself at the feet of the Samuel Horton and his entourage.
    While Brody was mesmerized by the events that were transpiring, his attention turned to those who had followed the Horton’s. Brody had spent most of his entire adult life reading European accounts of their encounters with native people but what he was experiencing could not be real. There seemed to be at least fifty native people behind and alongside the farmers. Their manner of dress matched everything he had read in Spanish chronicles from the 16 th century. It looked as though something straight from the illustrations of Jacques le Moyne an artist who was a party member of the French colonizer Jean Ribault. Amongst the group existed the fiercest looking men and women he had ever seen. Their eyes blazed at him with could only be hatred and mistrust. The light from the torches revealed something extraordinary to him. All of these Native American apparitions were ashen colored. Each and every one of them was sweating profusely but the color of their skin was a light grey. Brody swallowed very hard and looked over to the Horton’s for any type of explanation. Samuel Horton stepped forward to speak to Brody but was interrupted by Steve Price who had stepped from the shadows.
    Price couldn’t explain how he felt but he damn sure didn’t feel in control and that was not acceptable. Price had witnessed the same thing that the archaeologist had but was growing angry by the second. “What kind of charade is this?” was the first thought that had set him off. Secondly no one was speaking to him for his advice. This land no longer belonged to the Horton’s. Did they not realize they had been served? It could not have been made clearer by the sheriff’s deputies who had arrived Friday evening? The law was the law and these country hoosiers a nd their preposterously attired friends would soon be put in their place. First he was going to set this Brody fellow straight. He was probably the stupid son of a bitch who had invited this parade of savages. This really lit him on fire when he assumed they were merely costumed protesters that were no more than media whores. Price strode towards the archaeologist and shoved Brody. “You’re the cause of all this aren’t you? You’ve been behind it the whole time!!” he yelled. Brody struggled with trying to keep Price at bay. Roger Curtis had no ill feelings toward Brody and had not forgotten how the attorney had treated him. He simply stood to the side of both men wondering how the archaeologist would handle his mad companion. He never had the chance to take sides when outstretched hands collared him and forced him to the ground.
    Price’s confrontational behavior had stirred the anger of Hort on’s party and the native souls became agitated. Their voices offered a guttural sound when speaking their dead language. Several moved forward beyond Horton in Brody’s direction but walked past him where they thrust Steve Price to the ground. Sharpened sticks were held at his neck. Curtis fared no better as he was forced to his stomach as the grey men stood on his neck and back. Brody fully expected the same treatment but the aboriginal ghosts simply stood guard around him while intently watching Samuel Horton. The old farmer stood quietly with his wife by his side. Price managed to scream out to Brody in defiance “Do something Brody! You bastard!” Horton walked over to Price and knelt down. “Mr. Price. There is nothing for him to do. He is a trespasser here just like you. But there is a difference Mr. Price. That is something I can assure you. While Mr.