Books with author Thomas L. Coffman

Richfur lay draped over Founders rock, daydreaming. He was very restless. Each time he shifted a little he would start to slide off the rock. “The last time I was here, you fit better,” he said to the rock. “Have you shrunk or something?” The rock didn’t answer, but if it could it would have said, “It’s been a long time since you were here. Not only have you grown bigger, but you are a lot heavier.” In his four springs, Richfur had grown to more than one and quarter standards. The Standard was the size of the rock on which he was trying to sun himself. As legend goes, the Founder led a small group of Crafters to this valley. They had fled from the great cold that had gripped their ancient home, moving south as great flows of ice formed behind them. When he found this rock, he took it as a sign to settle in this great valley. The rock was roughly the shape and size of the Founder. Over the many generations since the original founders, the Colony grew until it was huge.The valley’s other attractions was the hot spring that flowed into the valley, warming it and making the valley warm even as the great ice flows came. Once, only this river cut through the floor of a great forested valley. Now blue ponds dotted the valley floor and in every available depression on the slopes, it filled the valley almost, from the valley rim to the foot hills at the far end of the valley. The river had been diverted into many streams to feed the terraces and the many ponds connected by a series of cannels to keep the ponds flowing with fresh water. Cannels also brought water to irrigate the young trees. Richfur could not see the other end of the Colony, even from this high point. In the distance a light haze obscured the distant end of the valley where it faded in to foothills and the plains beyond. This used to be his favorite place to come and think. He had come here often in his first two springs. He was restless. His mind was churning. He was uncomfortable. He squirmed about on the top of the rock, trying to get comfortable. Finally, he gave up. He rested his forearms and shoulders on the top of the rock, and left the rest to dangle. The problem Richfur came here to solve was more than the inadequacy of the rock as a bed. The Colony was in grave trouble. Overcrowding had reached a critical point. Many adolescents were breaking with the traditions. They refused to learn the Teaching Tales. They ridiculed the ones who studied and called them unpleasant names. One group joined together to steal. When they became bored, they would vandalize the hard work of others. They harassed the adults and scared the younger ones. They seemed to hate every-one. They certainly didn’t care what happened to anybody else or the Colony. Another group elected to escape from themselves and the world, by staying drunk. They ate fermented fruit or the leaves of crazy grass instead of good bark, and would spend their days in a fog. They did not care about themselves, their families, or the community. They were only interested in satisfying their habits. Although those, who chose to defy tradition, were only a small percentage of the young, each year the percentage and the numbers grew. Richfur called out to the forest about him, “If only I could find a solution to the overcrowding. I know all young crafters would choose to follow the traditions, if they felt there was any future for themselves.” This was the real problem. With so many in the Colony, it was hard for anyone to find work, anywhere. There was a little dam repairing in the spring, after the snow melted. Sometimes a heavy rain might cause a little damage, requiring repair. It had become almost impossible to build a new lodge anywhere in the valley. The young had no place to build homes for themselves, so now they just stayed at home. This caused the old wanderlust tradition to die out. Crafters were becoming lazy and unhappy.

Goldfur left his parents and grandfather at the ponds edge and swam to the dam. He paused at the top and looked back, seeing them still watching him. He made a farewell gesture with his tail and plunged down the other side of the dam into the stream. He swam swiftly away to begin his life as an independent crafter.His father, Richfur, had established the New Colony just last summer. He had just escaped the mob led by his long time rival Raywood. Raywood by virtue of his big mouth and imposing stature had intimidated the leaders of the Old Colony. He did this by starting rumors that his mate Chatter spread with glee. The Old Colony had become stagnant, wanderlust had been suppressed totally. Many younglings saw no future and the restlessness from the suppressed wanderlust turned into thrill seeking, vandalism, and violence. Raywood’s forcefulness attracted the younglings, and with them he was able to cower the leadership. He turned the Woodcutters against the Builders causing mass desertion of Builders to the ranks of the Woodcutters. Those that remained loyal to the Builders and their foremost Builder Richfur were harassed and accosted constantly by Raywood’s underlings. When Goldfur was born with fully webbed feet and very short body, Raywood stepped up his campaign of lies against Richfur. He got all the Unions and the Council to ban Richfur from all contact with anyone. When Richfur was still able to support his family Raywood got the Woodcutters and younglings together and plied them with fermented fruit. When he had their brains sufficiently fogged, he began firing them up into a lynch mob. A few of the older Woodcutters and some of the former Builders snuck away to warn Richfur of the mobs intent. Since all the reaming Builders and these few messengers were all in mortal danger, Richfur invited them all to come with him.He had planned his escape during the overly long winter, fearing just such a circumstance. This small band escaped through a pass Richfur had discovered. He had also constructed a few traps to slow down or halt any danger of pursuit. Again Richfur had come out on top at Raywood’s expense, but as before Raywood put a different slant on the events; claiming victory at having chased the traitors’ out of the Colony for good.Richfur and his companions were forced to find a new place to live and create a safe shelter for winter. They were running out of time when Goldfur the littlest of the Crafters found the perfect place. Over the ensuing months he continued to amaze everyone with his abilities, ending with the concurring of a night howler pack that had attacked a group of younglings he was teaching. He could no longer stand the praise, and constant attention he was getting. He was by nature somewhat shy and was greatly embarrassed by the attention. Leaving was his only chance to find himself.