------------~~~~~Buried Jewels~~~~~----------
*****Part Two*****
---The Discovery---
CHAPTER III
Julie opened the faded yellow manila envelope. Inside were several letters when she felt her heart fall at her feet, as she picked up the dog tags, belonging to her brother, turning them over in her hand, she was thoughtful, taking a magnifying glass from the dressing bureau she would go over them thoroughly.
When she and Michael were kids, Michael always patient with his kid sister. He often accompanied her on adventures and they were always playing games, making up Secret Codes that only they knew. They had been Secret Spies during the Civil War.
They were Secret Agents in Germany and they had been Pirates and Treasure Hunters and Land Explorers only because Michael refused to play tea or dress up with her dolls. Julie smiled, remembering the expression on her brother’s face, when she brought all her dolls outside on the back patio to play one Summer…..
He walked away, muttering he wasn’t playing with no dolls, not today not ever, You wanna go swimming, let’s go saddle the horses and ride down to Peters Creek, but I am not going to play with Your dolls, besides you are too old to be playing with dolls…..Julie had been seven.
There were three pages from her uncle Sam., it seemed he and her dad were seeking help from the military to locate Michael…if he was still out there somewhere apparently her uncle Sam and her father believed so…
He hadn’t given up on the fact…though her father had quit drinking ten years ago., she knew her dad was a realistic man, not one to live on pipe dreams., wishful thinking or what might have been no, he accepted things and then went on..
There seemed to be more of the same in a second and third letter; the last one so disturbing, she picked up her cell phone to call her uncle. She waited for his line to connect, glimpsing down she saw what looked to be another envelope inside.
Her hand went still when she recognized her brother’s handwriting, she would know it any where. He was telling they’re dad about some sort of operation taking place during the war. She clicked her phone off as tears filled her eyes.
December 16, 1967:
Dear Dad, Mom and sis, Been raining here all week, Sure can’t wait to get home I miss you all more then I can say, Looks like Army is spraying 2,4,D and 2,4,5,T They are mixing it with kerosene and diesel fuel and who knows what else to kill out the dense foliage here, Provides an easy cover For the enemy, Some of the.,
well it Looks like Sgt. Adamson Going to be moving the platoon up river here before too long, Within the hour he said so I guess I better close it might be a while before I can write again, Seeing some major action, sorry I have to cut this short, Give mom and sis a hug and kiss for me I’ll write again soon I love you all, Mike
It brought the pain back fresh within her mind and heart. When they received word Michael went missing on that Christmas Eve of 1967 He was only nineteen years old, his birthday in February.
Apparently her uncle and several men had attempted some type of secret operation, mission to find her brother, the last letter was dated ten years later, she wondered how many attempts had been made to try to locate him.
Strange enough even though he was reported missing on December 24th, his last letter home was December 16th. Though Frank rarely discussed Michael, Julie knew that her dad had never given up hope that he would somehow come home..
She glanced at the clock, 9:00pm her uncle should have been home by now. She tried his number again. Still no answer. Tresa would be arriving in the morning so, it was best she get settled in and try to get some sleep. She decided to keep Greg Williamson on for now to help out at the farm.
Especially taking care of the livestock. A couple weeks off to get Her father’s estate settled and she would make a few phone calls perhaps finding a position at the local newspaper or hoping to try some freelance writing for a while, with ideas already forming, knowing what it took to make a great story what even made an absolute sensational story.
Either way she had a few weeks to think about it while she settled her father’s financial affairs. The phone rang. It was her uncle. “Julie, did you phone earlier?’’ He asked her. They discussed the envelope she had found, he stated he would stop out at the farm tomorrow after noon around 2:30pm She called her mom and they talked for thirty minutes. She couldn’t seem to sleep. She walked down the hallway into her father’s bedroom, switching on the light.
Looking around in the room. Every thing so familiar…his comb, shaving lotion and cologne there on the vanity in the master bath. A profound sadness engulfing her, almost overwhelming. She opened the lid, the scent lingering in the air, smelling so much like him.
She looked inside the closet, his clothes hung neatly and in order. He was always so organized. She turned seeing a portrait of she and Michael when they were younger sitting on his nightstand. There also a picture of him and her mother in an oval gold frame when they first met. Like a wellspring overflowing, erupting. She lay across her father’s bed holding his pillow, she cried until she fell asleep.
It was well after midnight, when she awoke to tapping at the back door. It was Greg. ‘Is every thing alright?” She asked him, through tear swollen eyes. “Yea, Miss Tracy, I just came in on my way out to the house and saw a light on in the living room and wanted to make sure you were alright.” He noticed she had been crying.
“It’s thoughtful of You Greg, no I am not alright, but I will be fine, it’s very difficult.” She replied. “I understand that, Miss Tracy, Your father was a good man, if you don‘t need any thing, I‘ll be going, then M’am .” Greg stated.
CHAPTER IV
Julie knew there was no way possible she was going to sleep…So she took her laptop from its case, waiting for a few seconds for it to power up and went into her Microsoft program and began typing. Every thought she was thinking and what she was feeling., She heard the roosters down in the barn crowing by the time she was finished..
At day light she walked to the top of the hill where her father had been laid to rest, placing a bouquet of flowers upon his grave. She had been up here, a few days ago sewing flower and clover seed.
A Cool morning breeze blowing through the Pine trees. She looked up at the sky, the sun was rising, it looked like it was going to be a beautiful day. She walked down the lane taking what was once the path now overgrown. How many times had she and her brother walked through here making their way down to the old house and their favorite fishing and swimming spot.
Deciding to take a walk down memory lane., she walked through underbrush. It was a good thing she wore a sweater and denims and her hiking boots, she had taken a jacket, slipping it on. Funny it didn’t seem the house was that far, when they were kids.
The weeds were high, she would definitely make a mental note to get Greg back up here with the bush hog. She was beginning to think, her father may have tore the old house down when ahead of her she spotted deer grazing on clover. the old abandoned white house, local kids had said was haunted when she and her family first moved here.
She smiled at the thought, remembering Jimmy Jacobs swore he saw Confederates and Union Soldiers fighting within what used to be the clearing, in fact there were mounds of dirt and rock piled 10 feet high, farther up the path, Michael and her dad had said they were used for trenches; as barrier between themselves and Union soldiers.
She wondered if Old Stoney himself; General Stonewall Jackson, had maybe made his way through here in 1864. She saw what was left of a huge Oak tree, a whimsical thought., thinking Jackson may have sat down upon the stump, having a cup of coffee.
She remembered she and Michael had dug what looked like some type of shrapnel out of the tree over there, it had been riddled with gunshot., they had tied a rope around the tree, to go back and show their father, later. They had also found what their dad called a lanyard., It was a length of cord secured to a wooden handle, with a hook at the free end, used to pull the primer and fire the piece. If these woods could talk, what a story, they could tell.
The house was up around the turn, it was still standing, she couldn’t believe it. After all these years. Michael would get a kick out of that she thought. Taking the steps to the porch, she opened the door, careful walking across some the loose boards. One sure couldn’t afford a broken leg.
She recalled there had been red velvet draperies upon the windows in the living room and an old table still in the kitchen must be over a 100 years old. She ran her hand across its top, thinking she could refurbish it, putting in the kitchen’s breakfast nook at the house.
She walked throughout the other rooms, then saw the stairway leading up to the second floor.. Carefully she made her way up the steps, looking throughout the rest of the bedrooms, one must have been used for a sitting room, overlooking the West side of the property. The curtains hanging limply, blowing half way out the broken windows, with the fabric drying, had decayed from years of neglect.
An armoire stood in the corner, maybe at one time used to hold clothing or blankets. It too could be restored. She had a love for old antiques, the gas lamps could also be restored as well. She had forgotten just how old this house truly was. It had been ages since she had been up here. No doubt, there was more to explore later, but glancing at her watch she saw it was 8:00am Tresa would be arriving at the airport, soon.
She walked back down the staircase and saw there was a side door, she had never noticed before when she and her brother would come up here to play pirates and land explorers. She started to turn the door knob, it wouldn’t budge. Giving it a shove, without much conviction still it seemed stuck. She would check it at a later time. She went through to the living room and out the door.
She suddenly felt the sensation that someone was watching her, as the fine hair at the nape of her neck and her skin began to tingle. She looked around but didn’t see any thing different. But as she turned taking the path back down the hill, had she turned around, she would have saw someone standing at the edge of the woods, watching....... |
