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Scottsboro, WV—several months after the Rawlings funeral
Ron took Winona to the library in Martinsburg and, using the computer’s search engine, investigated a number of small towns further up spine of the Appalachians, before settling on a town in Pennsylvania along the I-81 corridor called Black Mountain, near the infamous coal-mining town of Centralia.
In 1962, a garbage dump fire had ignited an underground vein of coal from a strip mine outside that town, and that fire continues to burn to this day. Most of the town’s residents were forced to move, and their legal battle with the various authorities garnered national attention when it was the subject of numerous books.
Ron and Winona settled on Black Mountain because of its proximity to Interstate Highway I-81 and nearby Harrisburg, the state capitol. Had they known about the history of its neighbor, the little town of Centralia, it’s doubtful they would have ever made it their destination. But, choose it they did, especially when they found that an abandoned church building located a stone’s throw from Centralia could be rented for next to nothing from a local bank hungering for some form of income from the foreclosed property. Even better, Black Mountain was located in the heart of the Pennsylvania coal-mining district, and its marginally educated workers would make excellent disciples for Ron’s Devoted Church of Jesus with Signs Following. It was a no-brainer.
* * * *
The day they left Scottsboro it was raining, a possible precursor to what lay in store for them in Pennsylvania. The snakes were safely ensconced in two heavy Plexiglas cases, their steel mesh tops secured with small padlocks hooked through overlapping metal hasps. A heavy burlap drop cloth covered the two cases as they made their way north, along with the rest of the couple’s meager possessions, in the confines of the small U-Haul trailer they had rented for the move. It didn’t hurt any that nearby Harrisburg was an official drop-off point.
The church itself was not much to look at, with its peeling, white paint and crooked spire, but it did have one big advantage: there were living quarters attached to it at the rear—and they’d been able to rent it on a month-to-month basis, which suited them both just fine. Inside were about two-dozen rows of pews, divided by a center aisle. They guessed it would hold around a hundred worshippers when full. Getting it filled would be a challenge they welcomed.
The first thing they did upon their arrival was to decide on a place to store the snakes. There was a small outbuilding in the rear that had probably served as a makeshift stable at one time that was just perfect. The other thing they did was drop off the trailer in Harrisburg and order several hundred posters, which they planned to tack to every bulletin board, abandoned building, and well-positioned signpost within a ten-mile radius of the church, announcing their first church service
Next, they tackled the accumulated dust and dirt within the church building itself. It took three days, but at last the place was presentable, and they could look forward to the first Sunday’s service.
Standing in the outbuilding as he fed the snakes on the second day, Ron noticed that the floor of the shed seemed particularly warm—hot, in fact. When he mentioned it to Winona, she just laughed it off. “Maybe it’s Hell Fire trying to get out.”
“Then, I smite thee, Satan!” exclaimed Ron in a loud voice, with a theatrical flourish of his hand.
Had the two of them been familiar with the town’s history, they might not have been so quick to dismiss the analogy.