Honor Thy Father: Chapter 1 - "The Journey Begins"
The Bear-tooth Mountain Archive
Welcome, dear reader, to the first installment of Honor Thy Father, a new serial short story set within the world of The Bear-tooth Mountain Archive. But don’t let that scare you, this one can stand all on its own.
For the next five weeks, a new chapter in this saga will appear every Monday in your inbox. If you don’t wish to receive any more Honor Thy Father updates, be sure to edit your subscription to only monthly updates.
Special shout out to for inspiring me with her killer serial (now in its SECOND season) The Shantyman. Go check it out here if you’re into sea-faring, swashbuckling, musical adventures!
Without further ado, enjoy the first chapter of Honor Thy Father…
Little Jude Anthony was just ten years old when he learned the dark secrets of Bear-tooth Mountain. The lone peak had always been a mystery to him. He wasn’t allowed to play anywhere near the dark woods that surrounded it, nor was it permissible to explore the land beyond his family’s borders, especially not unaccompanied by either his mother or father.
He never quite understood why his parents were so cautious whenever the Mountain was concerned. It looked harmless enough from where he stood, and there was something about its crooked peak that always caught his eye.
While Jude could tell that his parents weren’t afraid of the snow-capped tower, which loomed over their small farming community of Carmel, it was clear that they didn’t exactly trust the sleeping giant.
It was as if they knew that, perhaps one day, the thing might wake up.
Because of this, Jude was surprised the day his father told him that they would be venturing into the dark woods later that afternoon. Their ancestral property, which had been settled by his family two generations before Jude’s father was even born, butt up against the thick woods that surrounded the high place.
The boy had spent many hours staring into the shadowy thicket, wondering what could be in there. Deer, elk, and bears were perhaps the most obvious suspects, though Jude had heard rumors that mountain lions stalked these lands as well. He thought it might be exciting to spot one from afar, but he never wanted to get too close.
“Before I know it, you will be a man,” his Papa finally said. “And a man must know what he is up against in this world if he is to successfully overcome it.”
Jude’s father wasn’t a man of many words. He spoke plainly and aimed never to overcomplicate things. Jude respected this. It was always clear where he stood with his father, and there was never any worry that secrets may lurk about.
Elroy Anthony was an honest and hardworking man, and Jude hoped to be just like him someday.
But this statement puzzled the boy. His father had rarely spoken to him in such cryptic tones before, and never concerning the Mountain. What sort of opposition would his father show him? Why was now the time for him to learn these deep truths about the world?
The mystery was suffocating.
“Jude, come give your mother a kiss,” his Mama called out from the back porch.
The boy ran across the yard, up the chipped back steps, and kissed his mother on the cheek. She followed his gesture with a tight and sudden hug of her own. Jude felt safe in his mother’s arms, but they felt sadder than they ever had before.
“Listen to your father in all things,” she whispered. “Be very careful.”
The boy nodded. “Yes, Mama.”
When Jude’s father was ready, he grabbed his Winchester rifle — the “gun that won the West,” his father called it — from above the mantle. He kissed his wife, Marian, and hugged his two little girls.
Jude was one of three beside his sisters, Margret and Melissa, who were much too young to understand what was going on. Though, if he had been asked, Jude would’ve admitted that he didn’t much understand it either.
Elroy tossed his son a wool jacket, but, curious as he was, the boy didn’t notice. Jude was far too excited to sit still, and the jacket fell to the floor as he plowed through the backdoor to wait on the porch. His foot tapped the ground nervously as he peered through his glasses, looking far past their borders at the forest before him.
Springtime had come early this year. The snow had begun to melt under the crisp, warm sun, though a faint chill remained. The jacket was a good idea, after all. With a quick shiver, Jude turned back for his jacket to see his father already holding it out for him.
“You will need this,” his father muttered.
Jude complied, but as he put put on his coat he was distracted by the other object his father held in his hand. It was a long, thin object wrapped in a thick, dark green cloth. Jude didn’t know what it was his father had retrieved, but he knew better than to ask. He knew from experience that his father would tell him when he was ready.
Though Elroy Anthony was a farmer, Jude always thought that his father would make a good butcher. He was the type of man who insisted on slaughtering their own cattle and chickens, as his father before him, and only sold meat in town when they had some to spare. That is, when they weren’t offering their excess to the needy families in their small congregation.
When hunting elk before winter, Jude’s father could strip the animal clean in less than three minutes. He had become an expert by necessity, and was incredibly efficient.
“Papa, why are you taking me to the Mountain today?” the boy finally asked as he adjusted the round spectacles on his face.
“It is time you learn the history of this land, my son,” Jude’s father replied.
Elroy slung the Winchester across his back. His hooded eyes looked deeply at the Mountain in front of them as he led his son into the woodlands just past their borders.
“There is much we have not told you.”
The man’s dark overalls were stained after a lifetime of working the fields. They had a half dozen patches running up the legs, concentrating heavily around the knees. Jude knew his father worked hard, and that if he didn’t tell him something, it must have been for a good reason.
But that also meant there was a reason he was being told now.
When the pair arrived at the fence that separated their land from the forest, Elroy ducked between the beams before pulling his son through them. He placed his son gently on the slushed ground and smiled at the boy before taking his hand, leading him straight into the mess of trees.
A damp musk filled the air as the father and son marched through what Jude could only describe as a dark hall of wooded posts. He could swear they were staring back at them.
“I am scared, Papa,” he whispered, tightening his grip on his father’s hand.
“Do not be frightened, my boy. I am with you.”
“But who is with you?”
“You are.”
“I am not as brave as you, Papa.”
“You are much braver than you know.”
“I do not feel brave.”
“Most men do not, but they carry on anyway. That is true bravery.”
Jude looked back through the forest. It hadn’t been too long since they’d left their small cabin home, but he could hardly make out their fence anymore. What if they couldn’t find their way back? What if the forest proved too dangerous?
“Do not look back,” his father reassured him. “It does you no good. The only way back home is to first continue forward.”
Elroy could see his son was not convinced, and so he knelt beside the lad.
“Maybe we ought to pray.”
Jude nodded. He thought that was a good idea. He knew that if the Almighty could hear how frightened he was, maybe He would make him brave. Or, at least let some of his father’s pass on to him.
Elroy Anthony’s prayer, like all his words, was brief. He thanked the Lord for their daily bread, petitioned for their safety, and praised Him for the beauty around them. With a quick “amen,” he rose, resumed his grip on Jude’s hand.
Then he led his son through the trees.
Read Chapter 2: “Illumination” here.
Thank you thank you thank you
Michael! You are so kind! I am SO excited for this.