The House on the Northeast Hill

Abstract

* Thomas Preval built one house during his lifetime. It was sound and pleasing and excellently crafted, and Thomas felt that that was all a house had to be. But, as if fate, or chance, or whatever you call it had singled Thomas out for a test of his faith, the house became a ruin long before it had fulfilled its life and expectations. In the course of normal events a house built on a firm foundation, constructed with devotion, and finished with love could be expected to outlast its builder, stand after him as a monument to his integrity. Thomas felt this so strongly that he disregarded tradition and the gloomy predictions of his friends and put his house in a high place that pleased him mightily, even though everyone warned him against it. He was not an artisan when he began. All he started with was a strong desire to be near Forton, but not part of it, and to stay there for the remainder of his life. He knew the people of Forton and liked them, but he was aware of the differences between himself and the others, too. For they were valley people in fact and in outlook and they felt uneasy up in the unproductive, rocky heights where farming was impossible and any other way of life difficult at best. Thomas, on the other hand, was willing to accept these disadvantages because he felt his greatest freedom and zest up in the hills. He had grown up in Forton, an unassuming village consisting of a score of placid homes arranged in a small, fertile valley that was girdled by four, massive, round-shouldered hills which were themselves the first ring of a vast surrounding area of even greater hills.