Charles Dodd White

In the House of Wilderness


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      In the House of Wilderness

       In the House of Wilderness

      A NOVEL

      CHARLES DODD WHITE

      Swallow Press / Ohio University Press

      Athens, Ohio

      Swallow Press

      An imprint of Ohio University Press, Athens, Ohio 45701

      ohioswallow.com

      © 2018 by Charles Dodd White

      All rights reserved

      To obtain permission to quote, reprint, or otherwise reproduce or distribute material from Swallow Press / Ohio University Press publications, please contact our rights and permissions department at (740) 593-1154 or (740) 593-4536 (fax).

      Printed in the United States of America

      Swallow Press / Ohio University Press books are printed on acid-free paper

      28 27 26 25 24 23 22 21 20 19 18 5 4 3 2 1

       Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

       For

      A., E., and I.

      These lonesome people in the wild places, it is their nature to speak; they must cry out their sorrows like the wild birds.

       —Frank O’Connor

      Wilderness. The word itself is music.

       —Edward Abbey

      Contents

       Part I

       Chapter 1

       Chapter 2

       Chapter 3

       Chapter 4

       Chapter 5

       Chapter 6

       Chapter 7

       Chapter 8

       Chapter 9

       Part II

       Chapter 10

       Chapter 11

       Chapter 12

       Chapter 13

       Chapter 14

       Chapter 15

       Part III

       Chapter 16

       Chapter 17

       Chapter 18

       Chapter 19

       Chapter 20

       Chapter 21

       Chapter 22

       Chapter 23

       Chapter 24

       Chapter 25

       Chapter 26

       Chapter 27

       Chapter 28

       Chapter 29

       Chapter 30

       Chapter 31

       Chapter 32

       Acknowledgments

       About the Author

       Part I

       1

      THESE THREE had survived by charity and deceit for the better part of the winter. Two women and one man, all young and adrift in the turns of the American South. They’d left the wilderness preserve the autumn before, hitchhiked down into Charlotte, and stood around bus stations telling fictions of abandonment to any kindly face. Taking the dollars with self-abasement, saying God’s blessings and crushing the money into their rucksacks until they collected enough for food and weed and the means to find a new place to hold them.

      In the cold they stood in evening lines at the shelters and moved around the streets through the sunlit hours, bound always to the next alcove, adopting whatever stray dog they could for the day so that they might beg more profitably.

      Still, their eyes grew hungry. Their faces took on great depth.

      They called themselves Wolf, Winter, and Rain. The names they’d taken when they met and fell in love in the forest, married one another by their own decree before they came back to the cities where they’d learned this new kind of survival and what it exacted.

      Things had taken a turn in Knoxville. March held onto the cold and the shelters overfilled. They’d headed east of the river to find abandoned homes near the interstate they might occupy, but there was little to be found that wasn’t already claimed.