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Cultural Background |
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Storyteller's Cabin |
The next morning, Earl went on his way, pulling into the next coal mining company town. This whole area of eastern Kentucky was company town country. The mining company would come in and build houses for their workers. Every company town looked just like another - rows of cookie-cutter, clapboard houses, with the only distinguishing feature being the color. Some folks used store- bought paint to paint their houses in bright colors, while others used whitewash. Still others would mix a little color in the whitewash and use that, and some just left the house unpainted.
Salesmen never knew how good they'd do in company towns. A lot depended on the company, and how much of a cut they took. Earl did fairly well that day, even with the company cut.
It was getting dusky dark as Earl headed out of town back towards the crossroads. Then, lo and behold, in the road ahead he spotted the mystery dog again, just standing in the road. It would walk ahead a little ways and then turn to look at Earl, wanting him to follow. When the dog got to the same sharp curve in the road that Earl had visited before, it turned, looked at Earl, then leaped into the hillside, vanishing without a trace.
By this point, Earl was thoroughly shaken, but he drove on to the crossroads to spend the night. He determined that he'd hit the next town and then clear out of these parts. Life on the road could be strange enough without disappearing dogs.
The following morning, as he pulled into the next company town, he knew something was wrong. It seemed everybody in town was all dressed up - and it wasn't even Sunday. They were gathered around the yards and porches of several of the houses.
At the first house, Earl found out there had been a cave-in at one of the coal mines. Shaft #3 had caved in, killing all of the miners inside except for one, who was still missing. The townspeople figured that the lone miner was most likely still buried under tons of coal and rock. Earl figured he wouldn't be selling anything during the funeral, so he headed out of town, almost relieved to be getting away.
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Slowly, he drove by house after house. Sad-faced, black frocked women sat on the porches clutching pictures of loved ones. Other women, relatives, and friends tried to comfort them. The yards were full of men, not saying much, just standing around uneasily, not really knowing what to do.
As Earl was about to turn out of town, he saw something that made the hair on the back of his neck stand straight up. On one of the porches stood a woman holding a picture of a big burly coal miner, hard hat and carbide lamp on his head, covered in coal dust. Only his eyes and toothy grin shone out of the blackness.
Striking though the miner was, it was the other image that had caused Earl to stop - a large, coal black dog, more wolf than dog. THE dog from the road - or at least its twin. Earl started to get out of the truck, but the somber, unfriendly looks from the men in the yard made him figure it was time to go.
As he drove out of town, he tried to think about where he would go next, but he could not shake that picture from his mind. Then, before he knew it, he came upon the dog again. The animal looked straight at Earl, turned and jumped into the hillside, vanishing without a trace.
It was then that Earl changed his mind. In a big cloud of dust, he turned around and headed back down the road toward the last town as fast as he dared. He had to go back and tell the townspeople what he had seen.
