The Old Kobain Place Pt. 01

At six feet five inches tall and 210 pounds, the 25-year-old was hard to miss as he moved about town. He seemed a likable sort and quickly made several friends around town. Jackson liked Brodricksburg, but found that he didn't enjoy living in an apartment and decided that he would like to have a house with some land.

Jackson started looking for real estate for sale on the outskirts of Brodricksburg. After two weeks of looking at real estate ads, he found a property that interested him. The listing was for a thirteen room farmhouse with 25 acres of land and a barn. The ad referred to the farm as the Old Kobain Place. The ad also said that the house was empty and priced for a quick sale. Jackson contacted the real estate agent that listed the property and asked to see the place that afternoon.

As they toured the property, the agent told Jackson that the house was over 100 years old and had been in the Kobain family for all of that time. The last members of the Kobain family moved away in 1947, leaving the house unoccupied. Two weeks earlier, the agent got the family's go-ahead to sell the farm.

The house was structurally sound but needed a lot of work to take care of all of the required repairs. The work didn't put Jackson off, as he had nothing else to do with his time. He was interested in the place, and the price of 12,000 dollars meant he could afford it. He told the agent that he was interested in the farm, but he wanted to think about it overnight.

When he got back to town, Jackson went to the library and asked the librarian if she could help him. When the librarian looked up, Jackson was stunned by her beauty. She was a blue-eyed blond, and she took his breath away. The librarian smiled at him and said, "I'm Margo Kurtz, and you're Jackson Winslow, aren't you?"

Jackson stammered a little as he asked, "How do you know me?"

"Everyone in town knows who you are, or at least all of the girls do," Margo said.

Jackson could feel his face flush and tried to cover it up by asking Margo if she knew any possible resource that would give him historical information about the Old Kobain Place. When Margo stood up to assist him, he got his second shock. Margo was not only beautiful, but she was also very tall, at least six feet tall.

Margo told Jackson to follow her and led him to the library's reference room, where she pointed to several volumes listed as histories of Brodricksburg.

"You should be able to find what you need here, Margo said. If you need any assistance, please let me know." She gave Jackson a big smile as she left the room.

Jackson spent three hours digging through the books before he found what he wanted. He had discovered an article written for the Brodricksburg Times in 1925. The article told the story of the Old Kobain Farm.

The Brodricksburg Times

March 16, 1925

In 1847, Quimby Kobain built a farmhouse on 25 acres of land adjacent to Wismer Road, one mile south of Brodricksburg. The bricks for the large 13 room house were made from clay dug on his property and fired in a kiln built by Quimby.

The farmhouse sits on a hill overlooking a large farm pond to the north and Wismer Road to the west. Besides the house, there is a dairy barn on the east side of the house. The barn's cellar has stanchions for 15 milk cows, while on the main floor, there are stalls for plow and carriage horses. The third level of the barn is a loft for storing hey and grain to feed the animals.

The only access to the farm is via a dirt lane, which runs 200 yards from Wismer Road up to the house. It is believed that the reason for the location of the farm was Kobain's need for privacy. Many people in Brodricksburg knew that Quimby Kobain was an abolitionist and that the Kobain Farm was part of the Underground Railroad, helping runaway slaves escape into New York and then onto Canada. It is believed that as many as 800 men, women and children took refuge on his farm during their long trek north.

On October 1857, four officials from Virginia, really just bounty hunters, came to Brodricksburg looking for a group of runaway slaves they had been tracking. The men carried a letter from Henry Wise, the Governor of Virginia, requesting local law enforcement's assistance in searching for the runaways. They received no help from the Brodricksburg police, so the four bounty hunters went out on their own and began visiting local farms looking for the freedom seekers. The last time the four men were seen was on Saturday, October 31st. The rumors around town were that the bounty hunters were not seen after going to the Kobain Farm, but when the local authorities investigated, they found no sign of the missing men. Rumors started that Quimby Kobain killed the four men and buried them somewhere on the farm. Although the family denied the story, rumors persisted, and later someone claimed that the dead bounty hunters haunted the house.

After Quimby died in 1878, his three sons took over the farm and lived there with their families.

After reading the article, Jackson became obsessed with owning the Kobain Farm. As he was leaving the library, Margo came out from behind her desk and asked him if he found the information he needed.

"Yes, I did, thank you. You were very helpful."

Margo flashed her smile again and said, "I'm glad I could help. I hope we see you again."

Jackson smiled at Margo and said, "I intend to make a point of seeing you again."

This time it was Margo that blushed.

The next morning Jackson called the real estate agent and offered $10,500 for the farm. He had to wait three days to get the answer he wanted, and on August 15th, Jackson took ownership of the Old Kobain Farm.

That night, Jackson dropped into a local bar he frequented to have a beer. As he stood talking to the bartender, he felt a hand on his arm, and when he turned to see who it was, he found Margo standing next to him.

"I didn't expect to see you again so soon," Margo said.

"I am certainly glad to see you again," Jackson said.

"Can I ask why you were interested in the history of the Old Kobain Place?"

"I was thinking of buying the farm and wanted to know its story."

"So did you buy it?"

"Yes, as of today, it belongs to me."

"Really? Kids at school used to say that the house is haunted."

"You don't believe that, do you?"

"No, I don't believe in ghosts," Margo said.

"That's good because I wouldn't want my new girlfriend to be afraid of ghosts."

"New girlfriend, huh? Aren't you getting a little ahead of yourself? I haven't even agreed to go out with you yet."

"Well then, would you have dinner with me tomorrow night?"

"Can I think about that for a while?"

"Sure, you can have two minutes."

Margo looked at her watch and then tilted her head back and looked up at the ceiling. When she looked back at Jackson, she said, "Okay, yes, I'll have dinner with you if we can go dancing after."

Their dinner was excellent, but for Margo, it was the dancing that she enjoyed the most. Being six feet tall made her taller than any other guys she had dated, and with Jackson, she could wear heels and still not be taller than he was. While they were dancing, Margo asked him what he did for a living. He didn't want to lie to her, so he stretched the truth a bit.

"I don't work. I was a Lieutenant in the US Army and was involved in a serious accident that has left me with some permanent injuries. I am on disability, so the government sends me a check every month so that I don't have to work. I am doing a lot better than the doctors thought I ever would, but I still have to go to the VA Hospital in Philadelphia once every six months for a checkup." It was as close to the truth as he dared get.

After that first date, Margo and Jackson went out together at least twice a week or more.

Chapter 6

Jackson was putting in long days working on the repairs that the old farmhouse required when he received a call from Dr. Baker in October. The doctor called to remind Jackson that he was due for his six-month checkup. Dr. Baker directed him to report to the new REORP Lab the three doctors had set up in Philadelphia the following day and plan to stay overnight.

When Jackson arrived at the REORP Lab, he passed through a large empty room and into a smaller room set up like a doctor's examination room. Dr. Baker, Dr. Bradshaw, and Dr. Schmidt were waiting for him there. While the doctors drew blood and took X-rays of his body, Jackson happily told the doctors about the farmhouse he was restoring, and Margo, his new girlfriend. The doctors' reaction to his stories disappointed him. They showed no interest in his life, the life he was forced to live because of their fuck up. His dislike of the doctor's increased that day.

After two days of being poked and prodded, and his physical stress levels tested along with the time required for him to return to his regular pulse and heart rate, Major Baker told Jackson he could leave. As he was making his way out of the Lab, the three doctors discussed their findings.

"Der ish no change in de Sergeant's widels," Dr. Schmidt said. "Die temperatur 98.5, Blut Pressor 120/75 pulse 50.

"Did you notice the scars from the broken glass on his back? They are almost entirely gone. I've never seen scars recede so quickly," Dr. Bradshaw said.

"I noticed that, too. The Sergeant looks healthier than he did before the accident," Dr. Baker said. "Do you know what this means?"

The other two doctors smiled as they looked at Dr. Baker and waited for him to say more.

"The Sergeant was inside the tent, lying on broken glass and the spilled chemical solutions, while the other men were outside the tent. They were all exposed to the same amount of radiation, but only the Sergeant survived. We may have accidentally created a miracle treatment for more than just radiation poisoning. We must try and recreate the mixture that the Sergeant was exposed to and do another test."

"Ya, ve must try."

Chapter 7

Jackson's relationship with Margo was becoming more serious, and he was beginning to think about marriage. They were spending most of their free time together, and on weekends, Margo often came out to the farmhouse to help him with his current project.

After nearly nine months, Jackson had finished the work in all of the rooms on the second floor and only had one room left on the main floor. It was a small room off of the kitchen that he decided to turn into an office. One wall of the room had built-in cabinets and drawers from floor to ceiling. The built-ins were in poor condition, and he deemed them not salvageable. Jackson was in the process of tearing out the built-ins when he discovered a bundle of papers rolled up and tied with a piece of string in the wall behind the cabinets. The documents turned out to be the original architectural design drawings for the Kobain house and barn.

Jackson studied the drawings and noticed a feature that appeared to indicate an underground tunnel connecting the house and barn. There was no mention of a tunnel in the article that Jackson read about the Kobain Farm, and the real estate agent didn't mention it. Jackson wondered if anyone other than Quimby Kobain knew of its existence and if it was still there.

With the drawings in hand, Jackson went down to the cellar with a flashlight and closely examined the east wall in the area indicated on the architectural drawing. In the dark cellar, even with the flashlight, he could find nothing to indicate the existence of a door or any other opening in the stone foundation. He studied the drawings again and saw an arrow pointing up between the floor joists where they sat on top of the foundation. Written next to the arrow were the words "Latch Release."

Jackson trained the flashlight between the floor joist above his head, and after a couple of minutes, he found it. The iron handle of the lever was almost below eye level behind the wall. Anyone shorter than him would not be able to see the handle. He pushed up on the lever until he heard a metallic clack, and a portion of the stone wall moved. A section of the wall six feet wide and six feet tall had pivoted slightly, causing the left side to move into the basement a few inches, while the right side retreated into the wall. Jackson pulled on the left side and turned the section of the wall till it opened to ninety degrees. He studied the tunnel entrance and found that it was built around an iron pole that acted as a single pivot point. With the entrance closed, it looked like the rest of the wall, and the stone joints fit so closely together that unless you knew exactly where the secret door was, you would never find it. If the farm was part of the Underground Railroad, Jackson guessed that Quimby Kobain used the tunnel to hide runaway slaves if anyone came looking for them.

Jackson had to duck his head to get through the opening, but could stand once inside the tunnel. The tunnel air was cool and dry but had the smell of a space that had been closed up for many years.

He pointed the flashlight into the darkness, but he couldn't see more than a few feet ahead of him. He moved to his right until he touched the tunnel wall and then started feeling forward along the wall while counting each step he took. He ounted 215 steps before he reached the far end of the tunnel. Finding the door on this end of the tunnel was much easier. There was an iron bar, about six inches long, sticking out of the wall, and when Jackson pulled down on the bar, the door pivoted open, the same as the cellar entrance. He opened the door wider and found himself staring into the lower level of the barn. After examining the door from inside the barn, Jackson noticed no way to open the door from inside the barn.

Even with both entrances to the tunnel opened, it was still too dark for Jackson to see into the deepest part of the tunnel. He headed back to the house to get a work light and two long extension cords to bring more light into the tunnel. When he reentered the tunnel with his work light, He got a better look at the tunnel's dimensions. The tunnel was about twelve feet wide with an arched ceiling. The tunnel center was about eight-and-a-half feet high and just under seven feet high along the walls. As he explored the tunnel, he made a gruesome discovery. Halfway through the tunnel along the left wall were the desiccated remains of four men. The bodies were still in the clothes they were wearing when they died. Jackson noted that two of the bodies had obvious bullet holes in their skulls, and there appeared to be what looked like bullet holes in the coats the other two men were wearing. Based on their attire, he believed that the four bodies belonged to the missing bounty hunters. If he was right, the bodies had been in the tunnel for over ninety years. Jackson was amazed that there was anything left of them other than bones, but these bodies appeared mummified.

Jackson was debating what he should do with his discovery when he heard a voice, no more than a whisper, say, "Help us."

The hair on the back of His neck bristled, and he could feel the goose flesh on his arms and legs. He looked around the tunnel, but he was still alone. Jackson had almost decided that the voice was just in his imagination when he heard it again. "Tell Governor Wise what happened to us."

Jackson was scared and confused. From his research, he knew that Virginia Governor Henry Wise had given the four bounty hunters a letter of introduction, asking for local authorities in Pennsylvania to assist the bounty hunters in their hunt for the runaway slaves. Jackson wondered if he was really hearing the voices of the dead men in the tunnel or if he was losing his mind.

"Are you speaking to me?" Jackson asked but got no response.

Jackson closed the barn side entrance to the tunnel and left the tunnel at a dead run, closing the cellar's door behind him. He decided never to tell anyone about the tunnel or its contents and never go in there again. After that day, Jackson often felt a presence near him and would hear the whispers. He didn't know if all of the bounty hunters spoke to him or if it was just one of them. The voice always sounded the same, so Jackson decided it was only one of them.

Over time Jackson began to think of the voice only as 'The Virginian.' He guessed that the spirit escaped from the tunnel while he had the doors opened. Deciding that the spirit or ghost or whatever it was didn't pose a threat to him, Jackson went back to work fixing up his house.

With his study finished and the house in much better shape than it had been when he moved in, he thought the house would be a great place to raise a family. So, on March 6, 1954, Jackson Winslow proposed to Margo Kurtz, and she said yes.

Chapter 8

On Saturday, June 20, 1954, Jackson and Margo were married in a small ceremony attended by Margo's sister, Karen, and brother-in-law, Howard Bush. After the wedding, Jackson and Margo went back to the house to consummate their marriage. When Jackson met Margo, she was a virgin and insisted that she would remain one until she married. Their wedding night was going to be her first time.

At home, Margo retreated to the bedroom to change, and Jackson got a bottle of champagne he bought that afternoon out of the refrigerator and poured a glass for each of them.

When Margo reappeared, she was wearing a sexy pink nightgown, and he could see Margo's nipples and her black panties through the sheer material. He felt himself becoming aroused as he offered Margo a glass of the champagne.

Jackson made a toast to their love, then set the glasses aside, and took her into his arms. He had never been as excited while kissing her as he was on their wedding night. Jackson had kissed her breasts before and even had his hand in her pants several times, but this time was different because he knew that he was finally going to make love to Margo. The thought that he would put his hard cock inside her for the first time had him so erect that his pants became uncomfortable.

They kissed and caressed each other while Jackson lifted Margo's nightgown over her head and dropped it on the floor. He picked her up and laid her on the bed. Jackson had never seen Margo in just her panties before, and he thought she was beautiful.

He got undressed and joined Margo on the bed. While kissing her again, Jackson pushed his hand inside her panties and slipped one finger inside her. He rubbed his finger on her clitoris, and Margo whispered, "I think you better do it now before I explode."

She lifted her legs so that Jackson could remove her panties, then spread them apart for him. He moved between her thighs, then pressed his rigid cock against the warm, soft flesh of her vulva. When the head found the opening to her sex, he slowly entered her. Margo was very tight, and he had to proceed slowly so that he wouldn't hurt her, but when he pushed his cock a little farther, Margo let out a gasp of pain. Then she wrapped her arms around him and held him so tight that he couldn't move for a couple of minutes.

"Are you okay?" Jackson asked.

"I'm good now," Margo said.

When Margo relaxed her grip, Jackson began stroking into her slowly, and he could feel the heat of her passion as he penetrated farther and farther into her. He could feel the muscles in Margo's buttocks tighten as she pushed her pelvis up to receive him, while he felt his desire building with each stroke. He kissed Margo on the mouth and neck and then whispered, "Does my cock feel good inside your pussy?"

"Yes, it does. It feels fantastic,' she said.

"Tell me how it feels and talk dirty."

"I love the way you're fucking me with your cock," she said. "You are making my pussy so hot. I feel like I'm going to explode."

Later, Margo told Jackson that she couldn't believe that she had said those things, but liked how it made her feel using those words to describe how she felt.