Curtis Lee Caughorn hated the United States government. It had been that way since he was nineteen. That year Curtis went to prison for operating an illegal moonshine still on his grandfather’s property near Cherokee, North Carolina. The ATF had swept in silently, surprising Curtis and his two helpers as they were running off their first batch of “shine.” His helpers had turned on him and became witnesses for the government. They received suspended sentences while Curtis got two years with no time off for good behavior. Walloping the ATF agent in the head with a tree limb had not been one of Curtis’s brightest moments.
Curtis hated the government not because of the “shine” charges, but because of the way they destroyed his grandfather’s tool shed that was adjacent to the still. He’d seen two of the agents carry away some of his grandfather’s hand tools and stuff them into the trunks of their cars before “accidentally” setting the shed on fire. That was when tree limb brandishing Curtis took after the offending agent.
Released from a federal prison camp in Florida several years before, these days Curtis ran a small motorcycle repair shop in Robbinsville, North Carolina not far from the Tennessee line. Adorned with prison tattoos and black hair stretching to the small of his back, Curtis was considered the “go to” person when someone needed something done that stretched or exceeded the boundaries of the law. Recently a new lawyer in town who defended a child molester found his car missing only later to be discovered at the bottom of a ravine off a switchback curve on U.S. 129. His client was dead in the driver’s seat. Nothing pointed to a suspect, but old-timers who knew the Caughorn’s wondered if young Curtis had made his debut as a mountain legend.
It was rumored that Curtis was one of the network of conspirators who helped Birmingham abortion clinic bomber, Eric Robert Rudolph stay alive in the mountains for several years evading pursuit by federal authorities. Interviewed on three different occasions, Curtis always had an ironclad alibi. Rudolph was eventually captured, but those in the know said it wouldn’t have happened if Curtis Caughorn hadn’t been out of commission with an injured back making it impossible for him to get needed food supplies to Rudolph.
When the black sports SUV pulled into Curtis’s shop, Curtis treated it with suspicion as he did with anyone coming unannounced into his domain. There wasn’t a motorcycle strapped on or towed by the vehicle which made Curtis even more suspicious. The blond occupant of the SUV was dressed in a suit, but had a look about him that didn’t match his apparel. He didn’t smell like a cop or a fed. Who the hell was he? Curtis was soon to find out.
“What can I help you with, Bud?” Curtis asked.
“A friend sends a message.” The blond man said.
“I don’t have many friends who send messages by strangers,” Curtis said as he eased himself towards a shop bench that had an array of heavy wrenches.
“This friend doesn’t have much choice given where he lives these days.”
Curtis selected a particularly heavy wrench telegraphing his intentions to the stranger who remained calm.
“I’m unarmed and I’m not a ‘Chuck Norris’ so go ahead and keep that wrench if you want. What I’ve got to tell you requires you to turn on your ‘shop vac’ so we won’t be overheard.”
“Do you think I’m bugged?” Curtis asked.
“No, but I’d feel a lot better if you’d turn that ‘shop vac’ and let me give you the message.”
It was a strange request, but Curtis lived in a strange world, so with a small leap of faith, he turned on the ‘shop vac’ while clasping the wrench tightly behind his back.
Above the loud ‘white’ noise of the shop vac, the stranger shouted his message to Curtis.
“Eric Rudolph says hello and tells you to remember the white birch tree that was at the top of Rollins Hollow he also said to be sure not to feed the bears.”
The white birch tree at the head of Rollins Hollow was where Curtis always left a small plastic bag of supplies and food for Rudolph. He always tied the bag high up in the limbs of a tree so the bears wouldn’t get it. No one except Rudolph would know this unless Rudolph told it to the feds. Curtis doubted that. He turned off the shop vac.
“So, you’re my new best friend, what do you want from me? I don’t work for free.”
“Curtis, have you ever heard of the Magnolia Society?
“I have and I don’t want to turn on that shop vac again. Have you ever ridden a Harley?”
“No,” the stranger replied.
“Well, hop on the back of this one. You and me are going to ride to the top of the mountain where we can talk in peace. You’ve got me spooked with all that shit about the shop vac.”
Curtis and the stranger rode to a point just across the Tennessee line where Curtis turned down a small dirt road that was generally used for fire patrols. Curtis pulled in behind a copse of Spruce and shut off the Harley.
“Are you carrying?” He asked the stranger.
“No.”
“Well I don’t believe that shit.” Curtis pulled an old snub nosed .38 from his jacket and pointed it at the stranger.
“Take off your clothes.”
After protesting that it was too cold, the stranger complied and stood naked behind some bushes. When he pulled off his trousers, Curtis spied the small .25 in an ankle holster on the stranger’s leg. Curtis couldn’t help but laugh, not because the stranger had lied to him, but because the .25 looked so effeminate. He continued searching through the clothes and finally went through the stranger’s billfold.
“It says here that your name is Thomas Shields and you’ve got an ‘M.D.” behind your name on the license. Does that mean you’re some kind of doctor?”
“Yes, I’m a surgeon."
“What in the hell is a surgeon doing delivering me messages from Eric Rudolph?”
“I’m also a minister. That’s how I occasionally get in that supermax prison in Colorado to see Eric. He told me that you have some of the same views on things that he does. Things like the government allowing babies to be killed in the womb.”
At the last statement, Curtis winced because while he was in prison, his girlfriend aborted the baby she was carrying. Curtis never forgave her and vowed that someday he would do serious physical damage to the doctor who had performed the procedure. On that memory, Curtis made a decision to trust Dr. Thomas Shields.
“Get your clothes back on, Doc. I believe you, although you shouldn’t have lied to me about that sissy piece you’re carrying.”
“Sorry, but I had no idea you were going to have me strip naked.”
“When you’re up in these parts Doc, you’d better be prepared for damned near anything. Okay so Eric told you that he and I were tight. What else did he tell you?”
“He told me that you didn’t mind ‘poking a stick’ in the eyes of the feds if necessary.”
“Yeah, that’s true.”
“My organization has a large supply of sharp sticks and we’ll even pay you to poke.”
“I think you and I may get along fine Doc. Let’s get off this mountain and get a hamburger…
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