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Stairway of Sand
by Charles White
142 pages; quality trade paperback (softcover); catalogue #00-0249; ISBN 1-55212-583-1; US$17.00, C$19.00, EUR14.00, £10.00
A story about an adventurous homeless man after his induction into a secret society.
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About the Book
One could assume a degree of truth in any novel written in first party experience - but this story is an imaginary account of occult worship in a New England town. The real truth is that there are over 5,000 secret agencies taking part in enthusiastic devotion to some person, idea or thing including magic and sorcery throughout this land of mysterious social groups.
Years ago street gangs roamed around mostly at night, but there was no mystery concerning their activity. They just believed they were kings of certain areas always reminding outsiders they didn't belong. Their doctrine was simple and to the point; stick together and there was strength and it was always better to be part of something than part of nothing.
Occult philosophy can only be determined by the kind of clan you are part of. Some agencies believe in membership sacrifice of business to pleasure. With this in mind I was able to put together a story of ceremonial worshippers belonging to a class called "Zebra". They were purchasable for dishonorable assignments by a secret bureaucracy.
When you read Stairway of Sand it may not seem so unreal - in fact, some might honestly believe I have knowledge of such a group - not realizing that I'm just an author with imagination.
About the Author
This is Charles White's second published book. The first was about a prizefighter titled Contender from Carlton Press publishing. He is a Korean war veteran with three grand children. His wife has always been his inspiration. Charles Reginald White is a New Englander born in Boston on October 21st, 1928.
Sample Excerpt
It took some time choosing bow and arrows for tomorrow's escapade. I came home too late for supper, but Katerina fixed a snack for both of us. She sat talking quite awhile before yawning and going to bed. Mrs.Olenin was just like her sister Anna - they were both loveable. Later that night I packed my luggage knowing there was a chance of not coming back after tomorrow. I looked at Anna's map again for certain landmarks preparing myself for an unusual mountainous adventure.
The next day, dressed in denim with a sheepskin lined jacket, I was driving over familiar territory featuring pictorial background of the north. Every so often I pulled over to watch scenery I was sure to never see again anywhere else. A few horse-riders waved to me along dirt roads leading to Heavenly Stars and further beyond where a body of water was running in a channel over earth's surface down from slopes. This could be where Cliff Adams witnessed a crowd following a man with a cross.I looked at my watch before parking a great distance away - waiting for a group to be seen.If this wasn't an everyday ritual - then how many days would I come here with a bow, arrows and a trick firing pen waiting for a man imitating Christ leading a crowd. Thoughts of Ruth Ann promising to get Gino to send Joey Otero along with Elisha Van Buren to find me if I didn't return was comforting in spite of chilling autumn climate. Thermos bottles were made for times like this to stay awake sipping coffee maintaining a focus. Maybe cowboy Cliff misjudged time when he stated groups walking around noon - but then again since it was near one o'clock a cowboy could consider this to be around noontime. I got my binoculars out to scan Heavenly Stars' boundaries noticing gathering members assembling in a herd under watchful eyes of a big German shepherd. When they came out walking behind their leader with the German shepherd patrolling alongside - I studied individual faces through my optical device hoping to see Anna Sondergaard. At this distance it was difficult to determine likeness - so I strapped on my bow with arrows in sheath and headed down closer for a better view. Lifting my field glasses once more - I saw her plodding laboriously still wearing hair tied in a knot behind. Getting close wasn't easy because of an animal guard coming toward me. I got on one knee reaching for Ruth Ann's pen as a nightmare of four legs quickly closed in on me. The animal was in flight when I turned the upper part of the pen firing one shot not knowing if it were killed when lunging momentum knocked me over. I got up running toward Anna forgetting about fretful complaining of a dog unable to rise from a bleeding side.
A few men closed in slowly - so I put an arrow in my bow stopping them in their tracks. The man in red with beard and moustache stared in disbelief. More people decided to move closer cautiously challenging an intruder. More than forty people started to scatter - but one woman stood still ...A zebra sign with my right arm caused her to throw both arms upward. She recognized the gesture but remained where she was.
Anna called out loudly."Vincent?"
"Yeah,it's me!"
I moved the bow from man to man freezing them. The leader dragging his large wooden cross moved in my direction for some unknown reason.
"Anna, please listen!" I yelled.
"Yes!"
"Run behind me until you see a car hidden near slopes to my right with keys in it!"
This frightful event made her shake visibly.
"But what about you?"
"Don't worry about me...just get going!"
Just as Anna ran behind me - more men closed in - but pulling back on my bow made some of them back up. Lowering my weapon to retreat I noticed Jesus Christ had placed his heavy cross on the ground to spread his arms like an eagle.
"Let them go!" he shouted.
Catalogue Information
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