Chapters 1

Chapters 1

A Chapter by Robert Guttersohn
"

In the first chapter, Travis Ardon seeks a body buried on Belle Isle with a secret to Detroit's past. He also reexamine the months prior that brought him to the island, searching for a corpse.

"

The waters of the Detroit River smacked against the side of the wooden rowboat as I paddled out to Belle Isle. The waves tossed the vessel from bow to stern; cool water splashed overboard, drenching my shoes and slacks.

I lurched forward as the boat landed on the island’s grassy northeast bank and grabbed the lamp and shovel I had brought with me. Using the shovel to hoist myself, I left the boat and walked up the bank.  It was an early fall morning. The east end of the island was covered by an assortment of trees, their leaves turning crimson. Her body was somewhere buried amongst them.

The sun had yet to rise, and there was a fairly cold breeze snaking through the trees surrounding me. As I walked, I thought of my past.

I was born Travis Ardon to Charles Sr. and Josephine in Grosse Pointe Farms just outside of Detroit. I was, by all definitions of the word, born to an aristocrat. Every day, America was stepping closer to division and eventual civil war. But for years, a war already had existed in the shadows " a war between opposing zealots, between those that wanted slavery abolished and those that would fight hard to keep Negroes enslaved.

Over the summer months, I infiltrated this war and in the end, found myself on Belle Isle searching for a body buried with a secret to one of Detroit’s dark chapters. I pressed on through the bushes and their thorns and the roots that wormed out and back into the earth. I fell halfway into a lagoon that I didn’t see, but I climbed out and continued until I finally emerged on the southeastern edge. As I looked over the opening to Lake Saint Clair, I saw a soft glow on the horizon. The sun would soon rise. And I felt no closer to finding her.

Growing up in Michigan, I knew of the issue of slavery. It was no secret. But to me the Mason-Dixie Line couldn’t have been any closer than England. Yet it was the line dividing ideologies on slavery " a central figure pushing the United States to civil war.  It was an issue debated thoroughly between federalists and their opposition. But the issue, as far as I had seen, had only fired up debates, not rifles or cannons. The conflict was missing its tipping point " a point where for all Americans it was either yae or nay. Sure, there were skirmishes and rebellions reported here and there, but the buildup had not reached the point of all-out war. And sitting between the two scales were people like me " apathetic Americans living in a conceived peaceful world. And I never could have thought I’d become one of those tipping points.

On Belle Isle, I saw one tree that had grown out of the bank. It was growing out and over the river " as I was told it would. I started digging by the base of the tree when the shovel hit something hard. I dropped to my knees and wiped the dirt away. A fragment of mud-stained linen appeared. Encouraged, I continued until I saw a flap in the linen. I reached for the flap and yanked. With its hollowed-out eyes, protruding cheek bones and Jolly-Roger smile, a human skull stared back at me.

We are all Peters and Judases was one of the last things my lifelong friend Ned told me. This statement rang in my ears as I held the skull in my hand for a moment. I understood fully now what he meant by that. But I hadn’t yet understood the phrase he repeated after standing over the body of the man he just killed. We all have scars, Ned said.

There was a small wooden chest, no bigger than a shoebox, buried with the skeleton. I opened the chest, slowly unfolded a letter inside and read.

And as I read, the revelation of what Ned meant came to me finally but in the worst way imaginable.




© 2011 Robert Guttersohn


Author's Note

Robert Guttersohn
Check for grammar, flow, plot, dialogue, etc.

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Take care,
Chris

Posted 13 Years Ago


I agree with "Lady" that time of day could be mentioned in the 1st paragraph. Because the man takes a lamp, I thought it was evening until I read later that it was early morning.

Would it be more dramatic to go from "Her body was buried (somewhere) amongst them" to the 4th para. and delete the 3rd para.?

I like the image of the water smacking up and over the rowboat to soak his socks and slacks. (and shoes? or are they heavy, waterproof boots?)

Maybe put, "I was born Travis Ardon to Josephine and Charles Sr." seems to flow better to me.

Now, in the 4th para. the reader learns this story is set in the Civil War era. Perhaps that could be suggested earlier--maybe replacing "slacks" for "trousers" and "lamp" for "lantern"?

5th Para: I infiltrated this war and in the end (the end of the "war" between Abolitionists and supporters of slavery or the end of the Civil War?).

I have to finish this letter. My daughter's watching the MTV Video Awards and I am too distracted by Lady Gaga to review this with due justice. I'll return once she's asleep!

Posted 13 Years Ago


Very interesting opening you've created here. I'm really wondering who this woman was, why she was murdered, and who the murderer was. You've also done a wonderful job with detail - nice work.

In the very first paragraph, when this man is on the small rowboat, I think you should immediately tell us the time of day it is, rather than waiting until he arrives on land. You can easily do that by describing the sky/clouds/ocean, and so on. This way the tone is set for us right from the start - and it's definitely an important aspect considering what he's trying to find (Give us more of an eerie feel to work with).
Also, I think you should end this chapter with what the note says, and maybe a sentence about what our main character is thinking, or maybe he hears someone calling out, "who's over there?" and runs off - considering we haven't had any actual live dialogue yet.

Hope this helps. Really like where this whole thing is taking us. Keep it coming please!

Lady

Posted 13 Years Ago


I like very much where this is going, and the neat little cliffhanger, but i really just don't like being spoon fed so much datum this early, maybe if you took it a bit slower.

Posted 13 Years Ago



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Added on August 16, 2011
Last Updated on August 17, 2011
Tags: Civil War, literary fiction, history, slavery, journalism


Author

Robert Guttersohn
Robert Guttersohn

Niles, OH



About
I am a journalist currently writing for the Youngstown Vindicator, a self-published author of Bartholemoo Chronicles and a three-tour Iraq War veteran. I am currently finishing a second novel called P.. more..

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