From Kentucky to The Causeway 1935

[not_a_haint]

The holidays in the Devil's Cradle were generally mellow affairs, though they did have a tree, and presents. Granny Amburgey liked the children to not just feel safe, but loved. Or at least cared about as well as cared for. Of course times being what they were, the presents were simple things. Handmade toys, second-hand books, small cakes maybe.

And of course brand new knitted sweaters or hats or something boring.

Caleb was gifted a brand new suitcase, a long woolen coat, and a new hat in the newsboy style. The suitcase was the standard gift for a child when leaving the Cradle but the coat and hat were special because he'd be leaving in the dead of winter. Apparently all the Walker sisters and Mr. Blevins had chipped in for them.

There were tears and promises to write on the day of his departure. Granny drove him to the station (also relatively new) in Hardbuckle herself and wished him luck.

"If you don't write, I'll understand. Some of my kids do, some don't and I don't take it personal. A lot of y'all are hidin' after all. Maybe a card without a return address, just t'let me know yer alive at least?"

"O'course Granny." Caleb promised, fighting back his own tears. The Cradle had been his home for almost a decade after all. He felt like he was losing a third or even fourth, family.

Heck he'd never been outside Appalachia. He only knew one person who had.

One last hug, and he was off on the next great adventure.

It was a holiday miracle that the roads were clear, and he had a smooth, if anxiety ridden journey from the mountains to the big city.

One last present had been from one D.L. Walker, Attorney at Law, who had arranged a room for him at a hotel (a hotel!) near the station since he'd likely be arriving after dark.

And then finally, bright and early on Saturday morning, January 3rd 1935 he managed to get a cab (and probably hustled by the "kind" stranger who helped him flag one down) out to the bay.

"This is as far as I go kid. I go where the fare says but I never seen this before."

There was a stretch of road heading out into the bay, but there was a mist obscuring the other end.

Glad I'm bundled up.

He thanked the driver, tipped him possibly too much, (He was running out of pocket money, he hoped he'd be able to find work.) and started off down the road, walking briskly, glad of his new coat.

It was a testament to the grandeur of the island that even in his "must walk fast, keep head down, don't think about the cold just focus on walking" state, that when the mist parted, he froze in his tracks.

"Good Lord!"

[OOC: Okay for broadcast, but not interaction as I'll be sending him directly to the picnic.]