The Quiet of Winter

The only known photograph of Greystone following the miracles, dated September, 1879. 

The surviving accounts from this period describe an almost deceptive sort of peace settling over Greystone. 

Letter from Jarek Calhoun to Nimrod Jobson, dated September 13, 1879
“Nimrod,
We know we’ve been distant, but you and Sally should come by the cabin this week. We have something incredible to show you. Michelle and I are blessed beyond belief.
All the pain and anger, it’s gone. Come and see for yourselves. We keep the door open. 
Your friend,
Jarek”

Letter from Jacob Rothstein to Otto Wolfsheim, dated September 24, 1879
“Otto,
I have not been to the Calhoun residence since July. I told myself I was too busy at the mine, but that is not the truth. I am afraid of them. 
They are telling everyone to meet the real Franklyn. I do not know what this means. Some have gone. They never come back the same. They’re always softer. They never complain, never mourn, never cry. The conditions are never ‘dangerous enough’ to call off work. They smile the same way Jarek smiles. They have all been sharing some schoolyard secret, one they are not allowed to tell me. 
A little boy rested on Jarek’s shoulders when I walked by their home Sunday. Through the window, I saw him spinning around in place, endlessly, the little one continuing to giggle and giggle. Michelle sat nearby, that same blank smile on her face as she sewed some crochet monstrosity. 
I do not think the Calhouns are in that cabin anymore. Whatever is wearing their faces wants us to come inside.
I wish to leave before the snow falls. I know it is inconvenient timing, but the arrangement of transportation would be appreciated. 
Please respond when you get this,
Jacob”

By late November, reports indicate that the Calhouns stopped coming to the mines entirely. When neighbors checked on them, they found the cabin locked from the inside. Oswald Rankin recounts the events here:

Note from Oswald Rankin to Matthew Perkins, undated but estimated to be late November or early December, 1879

“The Calhouns have “scarlet fever.” Jarek explained to me through the door. We all came to check on them, and here we all could have gotten sick. Thank God he is still all there enough to have that courtesy. 
They’ve asked to be given time to sleep it off. 
Nimrod’s acting queer, too. I haven’t seen a straight face on him since September. I frankly don’t trust him with a mattock right now. Maybe they’ve all caught whatever sickness has been infesting that family since the boy got himself crushed.
Christ, Jarek saw it for himself. All that was left was little Franklyn's arm. Two little moles, on the back of the hand. How he could possibly think the boy is alive and well...
I suppose something like that is bound to jumble anyone up for the rest of their lives.
I worry for our safety, and yours as well.
Oz”

Winter settled over the gulch, and for a while, nothing more was said of miracles. 

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