Free Mighty Old Bones by Mary Saums

into the earth, as best I could tell from the picture. That might account for the sudden appearance of the bowl in that spot.
    I picked up Cal’s letter once again. Bless him. He said he believed I might have a special expertise in these particular objects. Wishful thinking on his part, I’m afraid. It’s unlikely I would know anything at all concerning any native subject that Cal himself wouldn’t have known much better.
    I’d been so involved in these new puzzles, I forgot I was in the basement. The storm had given way to a much lighter pattering of rain against the high windows. I decided to go upstairs for a look.
    Homer jumped down from the couch when I gathered the chenille throw and stood. I put it in the box then put the box on my hip, got the flashlight, and blew out the candles.
    Upstairs, Homer and I ventured out to the porch. The winds and rain had all but stopped, and left a nice evening breeze, wet and fresh, as well as a dramatic drop in the temperature. Now true fall was in the air with the coolness usually associated with October weather. Just as Phoebe had told me some weeks ago, it would be summer in Tullulah until Halloween. She was only a few days off.
    Homer and I made a circuit of the yard with my flashlight in the near darkness. Leaves and small branches covered the property. I half-expected to see large broken limbs hanging down from the trees in the yard. What a relief that none had been struck.
    We crunched over the fallen twigs and branches, circling the entire house. I saw no damage, thankfully, to the roof or gutters. The rockers on the porch lay overturned, along with the geranium pots and the small table they usually sat on. Once I was satisfied that no telephone wires were down nearby or within sight on the road, we went back inside. Tomorrow we would walk through the woods across the road for further inspections.
    I tried to reach Phoebe to make sure she was all right, but to no avail. Neither landline nor cell phone services worked. I took a short but very nice hot shower by candlelight, using as little of the water heater’s reserves as possible, and went to bed.
    The night sounds of the forest, once unfamiliar and distracting when I first moved to the outskirts of Tullulah, had become a wonderful lullaby. As I settled into the down comfort of my bed, I realized the storm made the woods much more quiet. I sat, enjoying the rare treat of almost total silence. A paperback mystery kept me company for the next hour or so, thanks to a book light I had received as a gift. When my eyelids would stay open no longer, I drifted toward sleep, snuggling under the cover with the thought I’d soon need the housewarming gift Phoebe had given me, an electric blanket for the coming winter.
    As I crossed through the in-between world, a silly dream of rocks dancing in a ring came to an abrupt end when a sound downstairs brought me fully awake. Not a loud noise. Something small and light, like a dropped coin. I stared into the darkness. Had I really heard anything or was it merely a part of the dream? I lay still and listened for some time. Whatever it was, it hadn’t roused Homer from sleep. I relaxed. The wind continued its song, wrapping around the walls and traveling on through the countless leaves of the surrounding forest.
     
    T HE MORNING DAWNED WITH A COOL CRISPNESS IN the air. as I took my morning run, I watched the sun come up behind the nearer mountaintops, sparkling still with water from the storm. A thick fog shrouded the road, allowing only glimpses of empty fields and stands of trees as I passed.
    Homer, who had taken to accompanying me on my run of late, stood up ahead in the road, listening, his strong black body framed in mist. It pleased me so to see him healthy. Not long before, he’d given me quite a scare. He had escaped death, but his owner and my dear friend, Cal, did not. How we both missed him. Homer looked fully mended now. Our daily run strengthened us both. Going through