Tornado Gold

Tornado Gold

Copyright 2013 W.E.Powelson

By W.E. Powelson

Smashwords Edition

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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Table of Contents:

Top

Copyright

Acknowledgements

Introduction

Chapter 1: A Very Ugly Sky.

Chapter 2: The Hidden Surprise.

Chapter 3: It's An Underground Mansion.

Chapter 4: Picking Through the Remains.

Chapter 5: Making do.

Chapter 6: Storing Supplies and Moving In.

Chapter 7: Exploration: Round Two.

Chapter 8: Exploring the 'Y'.

Chapter 9: The Mystery of the Chest.

Chapter 10: Break-time.

Chapter 11: Another Discovery.

Chapter 12: Mystery Within a Mystery.

Chapter 13: More Treasure?

Chapter 14: Two Families Bonding.

Chapter 15: Settling into Home.

Chapter 16: Rattlesnake Bounty Hunters.

Chapter 17: Cashing in . . .

Chapter 18: Livin' it Up.

Chapter 19: Love is in the Air.

Chapter 20: Calling in The Gumshoes.

Chapter 21: Wedding Preparations.

Chapter 22: Butch McBride. Evil Heir?

Chapter 23: The Museum is Very Interested.

Chapter 24: Is Trouble Brewing?

Chapter 25: Gold News Travels Like Wildfire.

Chapter 26: "When you're Dealt a Lemon.

Chapter 27: Counting the Spoils of War.

Chapter 28: Gold = Trouble: It's An Ancient Rule.

Chapter 29: The Sheriff Pays a Visit.

Chapter 30: Honesty Isn't Always Easy.

Chapter 31: Showdown!

Chapter 32: Wheeling and Dealing.

Chapter 33: Everything Comes Together.

Chapter 34: It Ain't Over til It's Over . . .

Chapter 35: Chaos! The Bottom Collapses.

Chapter 36: Shag, but no one else?

Chapter 37: Help Arrives.

Chapter 38: More Explorations.

About The Author

Acknowledgements:

Thanks again to Jenny Anderson in McMinnville, Tennessee for the proofreading and editing.

Introduction:

May all of our darkest times morph into pure gold.

Sally, a single mom and her two boys are economically strapped and stuck in a backwater nowhere called South Draw, Texas. Their lives are forever changed one totally frightening and awful summer afternoon in June, 1991.

Chapter 1: A Very Ugly Sky

Darkness came early in South Draw Texas, on that June day of 1991. It was as if the 4:00 PM afternoon sun had been swallowed whole by mountains of angry, churning, black, wind-driven thunder-heads. A dangerous looking storm approached from the northwest. The storm's soul seemed purposely intent on disrupting an otherwise easy, peaceful but hot, Saturday afternoon in mid-June, on the north Texas plains. The cooler winds seemed almost welcome at first . . .

Miles away, the faint and distant wailing of a tornado warning-siren began to cry-out to the few residents of the sparsely populated rural area. It would be the only warning they would get. None the less, the siren redundantly screamed its signal of imminent, impending doom.

The threatening, anvil shaped, black cloud was warning enough. No one would need a meteorologist to appreciate that the weather was ominous and threatening.

A frightened single-mom, Sally Trof, anxiously gathered her semi-wet laundry from the back yard clothesline as small pellets of hail and wind-driven rain began to pepper the dusty, sun baked soil of the Texas Panhandle flatlands. The fuming storm had seemed to form in minutes with little warning. A few claps of rolling thunder had almost instantly turned the hot and muggy day into semi-darkness. The clouds gathered quickly and the dust of uncertain winds swirled in every direction within the fields across the short spur of County Road 27 just beyond the old, wooden-frame farmhouse.

The farmhouse and 500 acres had belonged to Sally's mom and dad before they passed on. It was currently the only refuge for her and her two boys at the moment. Recently divorced, she had no job, and only a little money left from the small inheritance her deceased parents had left her. Sally was a lovely 30 years old. She was on the rebound and still reeling, from a disastrous marriage to a womanizing over-the-road truck driver who was rarely at home. He only came home when he was lonesome and had nothing else to do. It had been a bad marriage for Sally, though she had gained two wonderful boys as a result. She adored them both and they adored her as well. Their useless father wanted no part of them. That was fine by them, they didn't like him anyway.

Sally was trim, beautiful and currently dressed for the summer heat in a pair of short shorts and a pull-over crop-top. Her long brown hair whipped and flew in the breeze as she frantically tried to pull the clothes from the line. The 30 to 40 mile per hour wind gusts seemed to thwart her every move.

The young woman howled in disgust as a white bed sheet billowed full off the clothesline and then lifted skyward, just beyond her reach. A blaze of silver lightening cracked and streaked the atramentous sky, splitting a nearby lone oak down the center in a fiery blaze. Half of it fell to the ground 75 yards away, with a cracking, rasping thud. An explosion of bone-rattling thunder sent a clucking flock of frightened chickens quickly into the apparent safety of their coop.

Shag, the family Border-collie, ran after the bed sheet as if he thought he could fly. An anxious Sally Trof called him back in vain, but Shag was on a mission of his own. He knew she needed help. Border Collies are one of the most perceptive canines on the planet, and Shag was well above average when it came to canine intellect.

Sally's two boys Bobby and Billy rode excitedly into the yard, dropping their bicycles to the ground. Both boys were shirtless, barefoot and clad only in damp cutoff jeans. They were still wet from a lazy summer afternoon of swimming at the waterhole a few hundred yards away. Each of the boys grabbed an armful of laundry from the clothesline and headed for the backdoor of the small farmhouse as the rain and hail began assaulting the north Texas rangeland in vertical sheets.

Mom! It's a tornado! Right over there! Look! said Bobby the 15-year-old and the older of the two. Bobby's voice was deep, but he was still just a youngster. He pointed towards the dipping funnel cloud in the blackened Northwest sky.

Go get into the bathtub; both of you! Grab a mattress off the twin bed. she yelled. I'll be right behind you."

She called three times to the dog, Shag, Shag, Shag; here boy. She worried for the dog as she simultaneously hauled the remnants of the week's laundry into the old one-story, two bedroom shack of a farmhouse. The rain and hail began falling in torrents. The tornado loomed from the northwest. It was as if the hungry heavens were about to devour them. A menacing dark and ominous funnel had formed. It had touched-down and was headed directly towards the small defenseless isolated farmhouse, located in what was officially known as South Draw, Texas. It was the only homestead for miles around. There was no town of South Draw. South Draw was an arroyo or canyon-sized gully, on the back side of the Trof property. The Draw was just a mark on the map. The nearest town was Silverton about 15 miles away. Their nearest neighbor lived three miles away.

Curls of wind gusted and howled around the perimeter of the funnel cloud. Specks of tree limbs, small mesquite trees and debris corkscrewed skyward around the spiraling monster. It was spitting rolls of dirt and dust at its base as it rapidly traversed the mesquite brush from the northwest just a half-mile from the farmhouse. The winds seemed to be coming from all directions at once. The now audible steady thunderous roar of the fearsome tornado sent a shiver of terror through Sally's bones. She was beyond fear. It was worse than that. The farmhouse had no storm shelter and the tornado was bearing down directly at them with absolute certainty. If it didn't change its course it would hit them directly in less than a minute. There was no time to think, and no safe place to hide. The old 1981 Chevy Pickup was sitting in the front yard with a flat tire. It didn't seem to be a safe enough haven as cover from such a ferocious looking storm.

Sally ran inside the house and herded both boys face down into the bathtub, as Shag the Border Collie came running, soaking wet, with a muddy bed sheet, trailing behind. He had caught it in his teeth and had done his part to save the day. Into the tub he followed as Sally tossed a mattress off the twin bed over the top of the tub. She then crawled in with the boys and the dog. The boys were instructed to get a firm grip on the edges of the mattress and try to hold it in place, no matter what. Bobby gripped the mattress with both hands as Billy held the squirming, excited dog with one hand, and the mattress with the other. They all said a quiet prayer and held on as if their lives depended on it. That fact was a matter of certainty, whether they knew it or not . . .

An explosive avalanche of rain and hail battered the farmhouse loudly as echoes of rolling thunder rattled all the windows. The clatter of large hailstones hitting the roof produced a deafening roar inside the house as thrashing wind gusts battered and slammed the outside walls; and then . . . it hit . . .

The crash of shattering glass was minor compared to the twisting, groaning, cracking sounds of 2 X 4's being snapped like twigs. The roar of the tornado itself was like that of a Boeing 747, flying 30 feet over the top of the house. Suddenly, the entire world went into a spin as the old farmhouse was lifted free of its foundations and pulled skyward like a soap-bubble in a stiff breeze.

The two boys, their mom and the dog huddled helplessly in the bathtub as the mattress was torn from their grip and flew skyward along with the farmhouse. They were now fully exposed to all the outdoor elements as the rain beat down relentlessly on their backs. The house was completely gone. All that remained was the commode, the concrete floor and the bathtub with three shivering people and a dog inside. The refrigerator was still standing in the area that had once been the kitchen.

Chapter 2: The Hidden Surprise.

The roar of the tornado eventually diminished; it was moving on and further away. It had passed and they were all thankful to still be alive, though they were soaked and shaken to the bone.

The tub was horribly uncomfortable, and the worst had passed. It was now time to locate to a better shelter from the lingering rain. As they peaked out from inside the tub, they were shocked to see that nothing remained but the refrigerator, commode and the bathtub. Even the chicken coop was gone. Nothing much was left of it but a few feathers that flew like darts, high into the shifting winds. The hail had let up, but the rain still poured in torrents. What was left of the lone oak was now just one half of a bare stump, stripped of most of its bark, with streamers of roofing tarpaper waving from every twig that remained. The tarpaper streamers blew in the wind like little black pirate flags. One of the boy’s bicycles was wedged high between the two remaining bare forked limbs of the split oak stump. What had been their home was now spread over the next half mile of fields across the road. Very little of it would be salvageable. The sight of the loss hit Sally like someone had thrown a sucker-punch to her forehead. How would they survive now?

Owweee! A high pitched yelp brought her back to her senses . . .

Mamma, you're breaking my leg! yelled young 12-year-old Billy. He had somehow wound-up on the bottom in the tub, even though he was the smallest. The combined weight of the other two was sorely being felt, now that the major threat had passed. Shag tried to leap from the tub but Billy held him tight.

The torrential downpour and winds were now subsiding considerably. The softening rain had suddenly become more like a drizzle at this point. With the house completely gone, the front yard was now clearly visible. Thank Heaven; the storm had spared the old pickup. The front windshield had a crack in it, probably caused by the hail, but otherwise it looked ok. The right front tire was still flat.

Shag sprang from the tub as soon as Billy let go. He began barking, circling and chasing his tail, as if to say follow me! At that moment there didn't seem to be any greater options. They currently needed shelter, and nothing much was left standing for what appeared to be several miles in each direction. Sally thought of the truck and then ruled it out. Shag was being adamant about something. She understood that dog and he understood her. It was obvious that Shag already had a plan, even if Sally didn't. To Sally's good fortune, she spotted her bright yellow flashlight, sticking out of the mud, in the yard. As she crawled from the tub, and set out to follow the dog, she grabbed it and flipped the switch to on. It still worked. She knew they would need it before this night was over.

Shag barked and ran towards the northwest, then turned and barked again.

He wanted the trio to follow.

What the Heck! said Sally, Shag seems to know something we don't. Maybe we can find some shelter down in the draw. We're already wet, let's follow him and see what he's so excited to show us. But wait! Before we do anything, you two guys need something that resembles shoes.

Shoes became Sally's first priority. She scoured the area and recognized a familiar rain-soaked cardboard box lying underneath a pile of other debris, household items and rubble. She knew it to be the box with all their old shoes that had been previously destined for Goodwill. She went over and looked inside. Six pairs of old tennis shoes and loafers were inside along with an old pair of cowboy boots. She called both boys over and made them each put on whatever would still fit their growing feet. Billy found a pair of Bobby's old sneakers that fit perfectly. Bobby discovered his favorite old pair of cowboy boots that were now a little too tight; but he loved the boots enough to endure the pain of wearing them again.

Shag was being insistent. He wanted them to follow him. They all trusted his very special canine intelligence. This unusual behavior was beyond the norm for Shag. He seemed to instinctively realize that the situation was grim. He wanted to show them something very special.

Bobby led the way behind Shag, as Sally and younger Billy fell in behind. Sally was mentally surveying the damage as they followed Shag and Bobby. They were virtually wiped out! The rain had slowed to a bearable drizzle. There was debris everywhere; boards with nails; broken glass; and shards of household items that had been blown to smithereens.

Sally and Billy soon fell far behind as Bobby and Shag hurried their way across the low mesquite brush towards the draw, which was an old dry creek bed or an arroyo, less than 150 yards from what had been the family farmhouse.

Bobby, be careful! Watch for broken glass and boards with nails!

She worried, as she cautioned 12-year-old Billy too. She was wearing sandals which meant the she also needed to be very careful.

Mom! Look at this! Shag knows his stuff! Bobby yelled He must be the smartest dog in the world. Come look! Wow! Bobby's voice had dropped a good two octaves in the past year.

A few seconds later Sally and Billy arrived on the scene. They were at the top-rim of the deep 80 foot canyon, or gorge that the maps called South Draw. Shag had nearly disappeared into a hole at the top-rim of the gully. All that could be seen was the white tip of his black and white tail; which was wagging frantically. Then, he disappeared completely, down into the hole. Seconds later, he scrambled back up, facing the other way and let out a yelp as if to say, Come on in! Follow me!

Bobby dropped to his hands and knees and tried to peer inside the hole where the dog had just disappeared. It was dark inside, but he could tell that the opening was very large underneath.

Great! You've got a flashlight. Let me see it. Bobby was growing more excited by the second.

Sally handed him the light while warning him to be careful again. Look for rattlesnakes and take it very slow!

He flipped the flashlight switch to on, and then stuck both his head and his right arm with the flashlight, down into the hole. When he came back up for air, his smiling face was covered with white chalky, caliche mud.

Wow mom! It's a huge cave. It's enormous. I've been over this ground a thousand times. I've never seen this before! This is awesome! I want to go in. Can I mom?

May I . . . she repeated, correcting his Grammar.

Bobby laughed. Sure, if you want to go first, it’s okay with me mom. and he threw her his most charming grin and a wink. Bobby was a strikingly good looking kid. His hair was bright; almost platinum blonde, but the summer sun had tanned his maturing physique to a golden brown. He had the natural build of an all-star athlete, and a Hollywood perfect smile. His eyes were a piercing blue. It wouldn't be long before the girls would be swarming all over him, Sally thought to herself. He was certainly a charmer.

Sally weighed the choices carefully. The cave seemed to offer promising shelter. There really weren't many other options at the moment. Sirens could be heard in the distance, and seemed to be headed their way, but she couldn't be sure. Surely there were a lot of other people in trouble at the moment. It might take hours for help to arrive. It was still raining lightly; the three of them were soaking wet, and the temperature had dropped a good 20 degrees. As the wind blew, it felt chilly through the wet, skimpy shorts and crop-top, even