The Prologue - as Promised

First, thank you all so much for your support and encouragement. You are simply the best, thank you!

This is just the prologue. (I think I got a little adjective happy.) It sets up the scenario for what becomes of the man and his house - eighty years later. I'm still working on a name for it.

Well... here it is. Let me know what you think. Be brutal!

ps: If they do publish it, yes Pam, you and anyone else here can have a signed copy.



Prologue
November 1929


Snow fell softly over the once lush, green mountain where a single structure stood. A mansion boasting wealth and the spoils of the industrial revolution. The mammoth structure of stone and pine loomed like a fish out of water in the green, unspoiled wilderness of the Adirondacks. Five stories high and dressed with rose gardens and apple orchards, a great hall, atrium and over sized ballroom with white marble floors that could and would be used for entertaining his wealthy friends.

He poured a fine, expensive bourbon into his cut crystal goblet, a sinister smile crossed his lips as he pressed the glass against them and drank heavily. Zacharias Perry was a young, good looking man. He had thick black hair that hung just below his collar and deep ebony eyes that sat almost too close together. He was tall, arrogant, lazy and coddled by an adoring mother. He had never worked, only lived of the labors of his ailing father. His father, Harlan Perry was a self made man. He lived and breathed the steel industry, unlike his son, who lived for his mothers generosity and his sole goal in life was to out-do his friends in every way.

From his perch in the high corner suite he could see the long, thin road leading to the mansion. He watched as tiny lights grew nearer. Smiling, he poured himself another helping of fine whiskey and downed the glass.

His stage was set. He had the finest wines from Italy, the finest chef's the finest tableware, the grandest mansion and the most interesting plan. History, he knew, would not see him as the courageous man that he was. It would see him as a man with money, amidst tragedy. He carried out his plan to the fullest detail. His parties were world famous, the most prestigious begged and hoped for an invitation. He knew, none would turn his down. He had planned on that and chose his guest list well. Zacharias was not a man to be reckoned with. He was almost evil when crossed. It is safe to say that one rarely got on his bad side. He had a way of destroying everything in his path, solely at his will. His friends, therefore were not quite his friends. They were the up and coming rich and in needing to be noticed in the right circles, Zacharias Perry was the man to know.

His own parents were not the party set. They were happy to just be together, travel together and other people detracted from that. Harlan and Eleanor Perry were the beloved of the business world. They rarely spoke an unkind word, treated their employees well and lived a life together in happiness. The one true event they always gave was their annual Christmas party. And one true event they always attended was the Christmas party they threw for the employees and their families of Perry Steel. They would lavishly decorate the ballroom of their home, fill the tables with food and the brightly lit tree held hand selected gifts for all. Harlan and Eleanor Perry vowed to never forget where they came from, and they never did. They enjoyed the riches they worked so hard for and yet, in remembering the mean, cold streets of Chicago, growing up poor, they cared deeply for the plant workers and their families. Never, did they forget a birthday, a birth, a death. Yes, the Perry's were adored by all, except one. Their one and only son.

Zacharias was mollycoddled by his over adoring mother. His every wish was always granted and his need for money never became a want, it was given. Unlike his parents, he had no idea of being poor, neither did he hold any respect or care for anyone - other than himself.

As the lights and the rumbling of the automobiles drew nearer, he downed his third whiskey. He crossed the large room with it's perfectly polished hard wood floors and thick four-poster bed. He pulled on his tailored jacked and glancing into the mirror, straightened his collar. He smiled at his reflection. Perfect. Everything was perfect. His stage was set. With vigor, he pulled open the door and moved into the hallway, closing the door on what was left of his sanity behind him.



Several hours later, after the last had gone to bed, she moved carefully, deliberately through the new fallen snow, making her way to the apple orchard. In her arms rested a sleeping baby wrapped in a warm blanket and stuffed into a small wicker basket. She glanced back at the mansion. Then, continued. The orchard was not enough, it was the tree, the one specific tree she searched for. She spotted the markings at last. She walked to the sapling and placed the babe, basket and all beneath it. With a shiver, she kissed her fingers before placing them on the tree. "Mon ami" she said. Without another glance she turned and hurried back into the burning building.