Scryer's Gulch

Episode 3: Near-Revelations

Have you ever gotten an ethergram? I'm betting the last person in your family to get one was your great-grandma, your grandma maybe if you're closer to my age. It was exciting in those days, a big event when the ethergram delivery boy would bicycle to your house and come up the steps in his sharp blue uniform. Of course, now everyone just carries a spellphone. Not me. I don't care to be that available, thank you very much.

Come to think on it, I suppose you're wondering who I am at this point. I'm just the person telling the story. I'm not in the story per se; I didn't know any of the people I'm talking about. Hell, they were all dead before I was born, weren't they? I'm old, but I'm not that old. I'm only guessing at what they thought and felt. What they did--well, that's historic record, if you care to look it up. Not many do. Did you ever hear the name of Annabelle Duniway in school? If you did, you're a graduate level American History student. I'm just a Western buff. I learned all this for fun, believe it or not. Everyone needs a hobby.

There was that one flicker, but they got it all wrong, and it was so long ago they don't even show it on the classic flicker channel. Black and white, and old, but not a classic.

Is it fair that I tell you what they thought and felt, when there's no way to be sure? Of course it isn't. I'm a writer. We trade in unfairness and inequity; we know everything about the story, or we make things up so we think we know, and then we tell you what we want to tell you when we want to tell you, or don't tell you at all.

But I digress.

I was talking about the ethergraph system. In Scyer's Gulch there was only one ethergraph receiver, and it belonged to Simon Prake. He had his own little office a few storefronts down from Prakes Hardware. A talented man, one of the best ethergraph operators of his day, for that was back when the technology was new, and the operator had to have some serious natural ability. Simon had plenty, and the education to go with it. When he decided to leave his ethergraph engineering job in Jackson, the partners tried to keep him. Even offered him a full partnership. No one understood why he left.

Agent Duniway was not one to swoon when confronted with a shock, but Annabelle decided Schoolteacher Duniway should feel a little faint at the sight of the vandalized schoolhouse. She staggered gently into Mr Prake, who caught her elbow with a concerned murmur. "There now! Do you carry smelling salts in your reticule?"

She never needed them, and so, unlike most respectable women, she didn't even own any. "Oh dear...left them at the Hotel, sir!" she faltered. She made an immediate plan to find a vial somewhere, even if she had to order Misi to steal one.

"Never mind, dear," he said. "Let's get you sitting down. A cup of tea, perhaps. Come now, Mrs Prake will see to you." He guided her down the block to Jackson Street and his comfortable-looking house, the town's second-largest, sitting back from the street behind a brave little garden.

There working among the hollyhocks and young rose bushes were Mary Prake and her daughter Amelia, who came running up to open the gate. "Mama, look! It's Papa and Miss Duniway!"

"Goodness, Miss Duniway, are you unwell?" said Mrs Prake, hurrying up behind Amelia.

"She's had a bit of a fright, Mary," said Mr Prake. He steered the unresisting Annabelle through the front door into the parlor, explaining to his wife as they went.

"Go tell Cook to put the kettle on, Amelia. Georgie!" Mrs Prake called as they entered the house, "Georgie! Go fetch the sheriff." Georgie skidded into the room, took one look at Miss Duniway, and cocked an eyebrow at his sister, who glared back. Georgie gave an exasperated shrug and took off running.

Tea was served and Annabelle let the color return to her cheeks just in time for Sheriff Runnels to arrive. Annabelle kept her eyes down after a brief glance showed he was observing her closely without looking directly at her. "Who could have done such a thing?" Mrs Prake asked him.