Springtime in Boggs Holler – Chapter One: A Cowboy Calls

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Coach, the energy out there felt different.

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Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question.

Play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly.

Must be 18 years or older to purchase play or claim.

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Springtime in Bogs Holler is an all-new story set in the same world as Old Gods of Appalachia, which is a horror anthology podcast and therefore may contain material not suitable for all audiences.

The story takes place following the events of the scenic route in season two

and precedes the events of Build Mama a Coffin.

Chapter 1:

A Cowboy Calls

Esau County, Virginia, 1927.

When you live on the edge of one of the oldest wind gaps along the Virginia-Kentucky border,

spring is something that happens to other people.

The ground was just beginning to offer up tender shoots and various shades of green, knowing damn well that a frost-kissed cold snap could be perched like a tomcat, waiting to swap the whole process back to crunchy mud and withered husks at any given moment.

It was a cruel and bitter game,

but that's what living on the side of a mountain will get you.

This particular daybreak carried just that flavor of unfinished winter, and Glorianne Boggs was making her morning rounds, tending to the land that had been her refuge and small kingdom for as long as she or anyone else could remember.

She moved slower than she liked these days, leaning on a long carved walking stick that had been her companion since she'd become a mother.

She made her way along the circuit she'd walked every day since she married Waylon Boggs all those years ago.

She tended the chickens out back and gathered what eggs her old girls had to offer up, tossed some feed to Bert, Jane, and Coffee Can, the three goats that kept the back hill clear of unwanted brush.

Her last stop was on the other side of the property where Hattie and Berenice, her two pretty milk cows, were pastured.

Her oldest boy Vernard kept telling her she needed to hire some help or else part with some of the livestock, but she wouldn't hear of it.

Since Mercy left some years ago, them old critters were her only companions around the house.

She saw her fair share of folks coming and going, needing her services, as they always did.

She'd travel out to deliver a newborn here and there, but more and more folks were going to the new hospital over in Glaymorgan to have their babies as the town grew.

Glorianne

had not been sleeping well as of late.

The dreams were coming more often and were getting more and more unsettling.

She always started her days well before dawn, but these days she found herself waking earlier and earlier, piddling around, cleaning and straightening things.

It was like she was expecting company, but didn't know who was coming.

She was well aware the dreams weren't just dreams, neither.

Shadows were circling her and her blood, and as she approached her eighth decade walking this world, her time was growing short.

Hell, gifted dreams aside, Glorianne's own body was telling her her it was about time.

She wasn't as ready as she should be, though.

Grannies with the true gift could live well beyond a hundred years or more, as time treats those blessed by the green

differently than the rest of us.

Glorianne Boggs, however, had been at war with the sorts of shadows that could take years off your life just by showing you their true face.

She had been a candle against the darkness for most of her life.

A candle that had been burning at both ends for far too long.

She'd got all her babies off the mountain, thinking that they got away from the land they'd be safe, but now she wasn't so sure.

Vernard had his property and business down in North Carolina.

Dale had his lumber and carpentry work over in Stonefort.

And Mercy,

well, Mercy was her own mess, but she married twice and at least got out of Esau County.

Still,

none of them were prepared to stand if the things outside their understanding decided to mark them as prey.

So as she progressed through her mourning, Glorianne was deep in rumination, worrying about her babies and their babies and not paying much attention to where she was going.

She knew every step of her land, the whole damn holler, just by the feel of it under her feet.

So when the ground spoke to her, it came up through the soles of her old work boots and shook her to a sharp and sudden attention.

Someone was on her land.

And not just at the mouth of the holler.

They were over on the far side of the smokehouse, at the very end of the path where she had almost walked, fuzzy-headed and distracted.

God damn it, Glory, she muttered to herself.

You can't worry about the young'un so much you let them catch you with your mouth open and your teeth out.

As quiet as she could, she set her egg basket and feed satchel down and focused herself.

She settled her breathing, closed her eyes.

She drew upon her gift and felt the green steady her for the moment.

The ache in her hip and her tricky knee faded and firmed up.

If somebody was on her land, inside her wards, and meant harm,

she almost felt bad for him.

Almost.

Her grip shifted and she held her walking stick as a weapon rather than a crutch.

She moved with surprising silence and stealth for a woman of her considerable height and size to the east side of the property.

She kept her eyes peeled and extended her senses through her wards.

And it wasn't long before she saw him.

Well, he was just a boy,

maybe a little more than school age.

She couldn't tell for sure from where she stood, but he wasn't big at all.

She did not relax or let the power she'd gathered about her go.

There were things in these hills that could look like all manner of innocence right up until they got close enough to bite you.

On the surface, he looked like a baby, younger than her youngest grandson.

Something just

wasn't right with him, though.

There was a coldness about him that had nothing to do with the fickle seasons of southwestern Virginia.

He stood with his back to her,

staring at Hattie and Berenice.

The animals did not appear spooked.

In fact, Hattie had moved closer to him and seemed to be considering accepting pets from the little feller.

Hattie wasn't the brightest thing, but even she should sense what Glorianne did.

The child was touched by something dark

and old.

To her eyes, he was a boy, plain and simple as any other, if a bit small and soft.

Through her gift, though, she could smell leaf rot, grave-turned earth, and the iron-kissed stench of cooling blood.

If he was a boy,

he was surely afflicted with a curse and a powerful one.

The boy was about to touch Berenice's nose when Glorianne called out, her power infusing her words with command, Stop right there, son, and don't you move a hair.

The boy

didn't jump.

He didn't even really stir.

He turned his head slowly to look at Glorianne, and she expected to meet the gaze of something hiding inside the form of a child.

And there were things under the mountain that could hold a human form for a while.

They'd walk into a dry goods store or a church looking normal as you please, and next thing you know, there's dead bodies everywhere and no explanation.

But the eyes were usually where the things or the haints got it wrong.

Even with animals and such.

You'd have a sweet little rabbit or fawn come to the edge of your yard and go to see about it, and its eyes would be swirling pools of purple shadow or weeping tears of black blood, and then it would speak in the voice of a dead preacher or something like that.

Florianne had seen it plenty of times.

But this boy's eyes were a normal pale blue,

seemed soft and kind.

In fact, as he turned to face her fully, that cold sense of rot slowly shifted to the warmth she associated with someone with a gift of their own.

She blinked.

The boy looked startled, but not really scared.

He smiled a bit uncertainly.

I

like your cows,

he said simply, pointing into the pen.

The ground under Glorianne's feet thrummed again.

This time the message was clear.

Eastern ward, powerful gift, a woman, no ill intent, but panicked.

A fearful voice came from 10 or 15 yards in that direction.

Miss Boggs, Miss Boggs, wait, wait, please wait.

We don't mean you no harm, please.

Glorianne turned around to see a red-headed woman that she vaguely recognized standing right at the edge of her eastern property line, anxious to cross, but clearly knowing better than to try.

Her eyes were wide and her face wrought with fear, and she would have wondered if this was the boy's mother if her mind hadn't made the connection and fetched up the woman's name from memory.

Glorianne squinted over at her and called back.

You're a Walker, ain't you?

One of Sheila's girls?

Thought y'all was over in Tennessee.

Yes, ma'am.

I keep

a place over on Birchfield in Glamorgan part of the time, too.

Yeah, I heard that too.

Ellie Walker.

That's you?

Yes, Miss Boggs.

That's me.

If you grant me passage, I swear on my mama and her mama's name that we mean you no harm.

And honestly, we need your help.

Glorianne looked back to the boy by the cow pen.

He turned back to the cows and the shadow of death and hungry dark spread out from him again, chilling her bones.

Well, come on in, Miss Walker, and please explain what you brought onto my land.

Ellie didn't know where to start.

She'd been stunned when Glorianne Boggs had recognized her on sight.

The woman was known throughout the region as one of the toughest and wisest grannies still walking.

Her reclusive nature and thunderstorm of a temper had also become infamous as she'd aged in her sunset years.

She'd planned on calling on Miss Boggs all formal like good manners dictated, but she'd woken up to find that cowboy had wandered off, then come to find out he'd somehow just glided past wards that would make her sister Marcy green with envy to visit with the old bird's beloved milk cows.

Could this morning get any worse?

She had to choose her words carefully, or she might find out.

Ellie started to speak, but Glorianne shook her head.

No, ma'am.

I suspect what you need to tell me needs me to be fully awake and listening close, and that requires I have my breakfast and my coffee.

She threw a skeptical eye over at Cowboy.

You are welcome to join me, but you'll understand if I ask the young gentleman to eat outside.

Ellie scowled at this a little on Cowboy's behalf, but then realized how the boy must come across to gifted folks who didn't know him, especially somebody who'd seen the kind of things that Gloria Henn Boggs had.

Ellie nodded and called over to the boy.

Cowboy, honey, Miss Boggs is going to be putting a stove on.

You want something to eat?

No, thank you, the boy called back, his eyes never leaving the bovine ladies in their pen.

I'm not hungry right now, Miss Walker.

And then, I appreciate you offering, though, Miss Boggs.

Glorianne felt that shift from cold shadow to spring sunshine again as the boy turned to face her.

What a peculiar little thing he was.

Warily, she returned his smile and nodded.

I'll set some aside for you, young man, should you change your mind.

I got a mess of bacon and taters to fry, and the smell might wake your belly up.

Cowboy smiled, nodded, and turned back to the cows.

Glorianne motioned for Ellie to follow her as she moved down the path towards the house.

not wanting to feel the return of that withering shade that spread from the boy's back.

On the walk to the house, Ellie Walker told Glorianne everything she knew about Cowboy, who used to be called Caleb.

His family had moved onto land adjacent to the nameless place

and had given it a name,

which apparently had started a dark chain of events that rolled across the Tennessee Valley.

The mother and child walked again,

and it seemed that death was everywhere.

Glorianne listened and nodded grimly.

Things been stirring all over, and that old bitty being upraising hell fits right in.

Why, there's been all kinds of doing over and...

Glorianne suddenly stopped walking and turned on Ellie.

Wait a goddurn minute, Ellie Walker.

You said you come here looking for help.

Yes,'em, I was hoping.

Rage and frustration suddenly filled Glorianne's weathered face.

She breathed deeply and went on in a clipped tone.

Miss Walker, you look me in the eye and you tell me you ain't asking me to saddle up and come down to Tennessee to fix this.

Miss Boggs, no, we.

I'm telling you here and now I can't.

I just can't do it.

I ain't got long left, and I got business of my own to get on to before my time's up.

I can't go bind up every beast y'all let loose now.

It's y'all's turn.

I told them they couldn't change a damn thing about the way that binding works.

Now look at you.

Come running up the mountain for the elders to save you.

I tell you, I can't.

Ellie cut her off as respectfully as she could.

Miss Boggs, it's the boy, Miss Boggs.

He's...

He's the only one she's spared that we know of, and she...

She's changed him.

Ellie plowed ahead before Glorianne could interrupt, her words spilling forth in a rush, desperate for the guidance of someone who knew more than she did, scared to death Miss Boggs might turn them away.

My niece Sarah brought him to us.

She was his teacher at school.

She's got the gift and noticed that something wasn't right with him, but he ain't never hurt nobody.

So my sister Marcy and me, we did the egg test with him, and what we found don't make no sense.

It's like the dark and the green are all mixed up inside him.

He ain't growing.

He can't eat.

That's why he didn't want no breakfast.

Everything he eats, he sneaks off and throws up.

He thinks we don't notice, but we do.

That's not the worst of it, though, ma'am.

I don't think

I don't think he can die.

He went out on the lake by the gap, and something come for him.

His friends saw it, saw him die, they said.

They said they saw something hit him hard enough to break every bone in his body, and he just shows back up at the schoolhouse like he just got left behind on the playground.

Now, please, I ain't asking you to set one foot off this land.

But he's just a baby, Miss Boggs.

He never asked for this, never asked to be chained to this earth like some damn hate.

And everybody knows that Boggs Holler is where you go when you need help with the dead or things that won't die.

We all got bags to carry, and life ain't fair.

But those of us that can do more should do.

I don't know what your mama taught you, but it's what my mama taught me.

So please, Miss Boggs, if you think you can help cowboy, then do.

If you can't,

I guess we'll be on our way.

Glorianne took a deep breath and let it out,

releasing the power she had been holding.

The aches and stiffness in her old bones and joints slowly returned,

along with a fresh wave of shame that poured in like rainwater that filled the place that had held her initial anger.

There she went again, so caught up in her own woes and troubles, she almost forgot the whole reason for the gifts she'd been given.

She was put here to help people, to keep folks safe from the darkness.

Miss Walker, I'm going to go in my house and fix some breakfast.

Why don't you come in and tell me more about our young friend out there, and we'll see what can be done.

Miss Boggs, thank you.

I...

Hush, girl.

I ain't done y'all no good just yet, and I ain't making no promises on that count.

What I can promise is bacon and eggs.

You get on the house now.

Ellie dipped her head like a chastened schoolgirl and proceeded through the open door into the house.

Glorian took a moment to gaze thoughtfully back in the direction of the cow pen and their new friend.

Now that she was aware of the shadow he carried, she couldn't not feel it on her land.

With a sigh for both the situation at hand and the ache in her old bones, she followed the younger Miss Walker into her house,

closing the door behind her.

Well, hey there, family.

Thank y'all for coming along for the ride here in the springtime for Bogs Holler chapter one.

A cowboy calls.

I know y'all have been real anxious about finding out what happens to this little feller.

Well, you got three episodes to tell that tale.

You might regret asking, but you done did it.

So here we go.

If y'all are enjoying meeting the inhabitants of Bogs Holler, you may want to consider joining the congregation over on patreon.com/slash old gods of Appalachia for $10 a month.

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Old Gods of Appalachia is a production of Deep Nerd Media distributed by Rusty Quill.

Today's story was written and performed by Steve Schell.

Produced by Cam Collins and Steve Schell with additional audio production by Chris Hayes.

Our intro music is by Landon Blood.

Our outro music is by Those Poor Bastards.

And as always, the voice of Glorianne Boggs, The Spine of the Mountain, was Allison Mullins.

See you soon, family.

See you real soon.

Coach, the energy out there felt different.

What changed for the team today?

It was the new game, Day Scratches from the California Lottery.

Play is everything.

Those games sent the team's energy through the roof.

Are you saying it was the off-field play that made the difference on the field?

Hey, a little play makes your day, and today it made the game.

That's all for now.

Coach, one more question.

Play the new Los Angeles Chargers, San Francisco 49ers, and Los Angeles Rams Scratchers from the California Lottery.

A little play can make your day.

Please play responsibly, must be 18 years or older to purchase play or claim.