Free Avalon: The Retreat by L. Michael Rusin

emerged from the trees it was just sitting there, quietly waiting for someone to come along and enjoy the grandeur of what was Avalon.

Chapter 7 Coming Home
    Mike and Dan were rendered speechless the moment they first caught sight of the magnificent structure and complex. About five hundred feet after they exited the dirt road, they came out of the big trees and saw a four-foot wide, freestanding post that was separated by a space of about fifty feet where another one was in the ground.
    The two poles stood over thirty-feet high and were connected by a top piece that was horizontal and three feet in diameter. Hanging from four-inch thick wrought iron hooks, was a thirty-two by ten foot hand carved sign that read, “AVALON.” It’s interior gold lettering was chipped and faded, but still clear. It was held together by a rod that went from the hooks through the bottom with large bolts and accented on the outside of each pole with large iron wagon wheels that touched tangentially at both the top and inside.
    To either side of the sign, a rail fence had been installed that joined each vertical post and stretched out for about one hundred fifty feet in a tapered fashion. This was the magnificent entry to the ranch, with a facade fence that had originally been put there to impress anyone who saw it.
    Nearly a century later, its effect had not been diminished.
    The resort was set back from the road about a half-mile at the edge of what was a natural clearing with an exquisite flower and grass covered mountain meadow. The two men stood there captured by the sight of the awesome structure in the distance while the perfume of the wildflowers caressed their sense of smell.
    They paced the width of the main building at over four hundred feet and its construction was log cabin style. They could see that the logs had been peeled and varnished, each meticulously fitted to the next by hand and obviously done by master craftsmen. The cracks were filled with what appeared to be oakum, a product used by shipbuilders to waterproof the cracks on ships in an era long gone.
    Off to either side were smaller cabins, also made of logs, that went in a straight line, jutting out in a wing-like fashion from the main building. Each was clearly separate from the others and different in their own unique way, as if they had been customized to fit various distinct personalities of their long-past occupants.
    From a bird’s eye view, the cabins formed a large “V” swooping toward the back pastures of the property. There were twenty-five cabins to a side and between all the cabins was, at one time, a grassy park-like area. Overgrown and weed infested now, Mike and Dan knew it could be restored to its former motif with a bit of elbow grease.
    To one side of the main hotel and restaurant, a massive swimming pool sprawled out, which in days long gone had a cascading waterfall reminiscent of some exotic Amazonian jungle scene. There was a dance floor that, along with much of the cement walkways, was covered in green fungus growing in profusion. Even in disarray, the dance floor was obviously built to be used both inside and outside, joined together as it meandered in every direction.
    An ivy plant nearly covered a portion of the front of the main building, and a couple of the smaller cabins were severely damaged from a large tree that had fallen on them at one time, crushing a corner of each one. They could be repaired and made to be livable again with a little work, but it would require lumber and building supplies to be brought up the long haul. For their purpose of long-term planning, it would be worth the trouble.
    They explored the main building; its front entry consisted of two large double doors that were hand carved and appeared to be heavy. Made from oak planks, each was about four inches thick and the hinges, door fasteners, and other hardware were massive. They appeared to be hand forged and beaten, made specifically for these doors in a