Divining Rod
Scottie Blaine
Published: 2011
ISBN: 978-1-936950-51-5
Published by Summerhouse Publishing. Copyright, Scottie Blaine. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author.
Summerhouse Publishing
http://summerhousepublishing.com
publisher@summerhousepublishing.com
Editor
Marisa Chenery
Cover Artist
Mina Carter
This is a work of fiction. The characters, incidents and dialogues in this book are of the author’s imagination and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events or persons, living or dead, is completely coincidental.
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Chapter One
“If we don’t find water soon, our livestock and crops will die. It’s that simple,” Lance said flatly. He dropped his smoke and crushed it into the arid ground with the tip of his boot. “We’ll go broke in a month hauling water in. Either we tap a new well or go bust.”
Dick Weston sidestepped the last puffs of smoke rising from the dead cigarette. “I get that, Lance. But a water witch? Wouldn’t the money be better spent on getting those scientists at the Groundwater Association to come out and do their seismic electromagnetic tests? This is the twenty-first century, after all.”
“Finding water in the desert is not new. I say we try the old before we fork out a couple grand to bring in lab coats to do what dowsers have done for centuries, for way less money.” Lance pulled out his iPhone and scrolled to the home page for the water witch he’d hired. “Take a look at this.”
Dick took the phone and held it out at arm’s length.
“It won’t bite you, Richard.”
“Left my reading glasses back at the ranch house. Or maybe in the tool shed at the vineyard. Hell if I know. I’ll pick up another pair at Walgreens.” He read the page, zooming it in with his fingertip. “Rod Mascioli, certified dowser. Huh. I wonder who certified him? Casper the Friendly Ghost?”
“I checked him out. He’s the real deal. You know that new development outside Dufur, Oregon? The one that made the news, because it’s all wind power and solar this and that?” Lance asked.
Dick nodded. “Heard of it.”
“He dowsed for the construction company. Found an underground aquifer. A mother lode of underground water.”
“How much he charge them?”
Lance laughed. “He made them all millionaires and his fee was a flat five hundred bucks, just like always. And he doesn’t even charge for downtime. I got him for two days at that rate. We’re taking the pickup into the Big Dry and working our way back one step at a time. He says he can smell water. Of course, he’s a geologist too. His website says he can read ripple patterns in rocks and the like. I don’t know. Never liked science much. Give me some fine English or Russian literature and I’m a happy man.” Lance paused. “I bet he finds that native cistern my grandfather and father spent their whole lives looking for. They never hired a water witch, as far as I know.”
“Your folks had more sense than you. A water witch. Jesus Christ, Lance. Best take a few books into the Big Dry with you, so you’ll have something to do while your water witch is walking around with his stick in his hand.” Dick made a masturbatory motion in front of his crotch. “Not only are you going to be dusty and dry, you’re going to be bored out of your mind.”