amonkie

Welcome to a New Week ... Enjoy



May your muse be inspired ...

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Calling from deep in the heart, from where the eyes can't see and the ears can't hear, from where the mountain trails end and only love can go... ~~~ Three Rivers Hare Krishna

Poppinjay

Trash. That's all that ever came from Jones County. It was never a destination for anybody except those who were exiled there. It was an old southern county with old, southern attitudes. Segregation was well in effect thirty years after being declared illegal. This is how Roger Haleigh was raised.

Roger became a man in the eyes of the state when he was just 12. He received his birthday money from his relations, from far and near. The total came to $13.42. The forty two cents came from his uncle who worked down by the fish shop. The biggest part of the loot had been sent from Bethesda, where the wealthiest aunt lived.

"Watcha gunna do wit' your treasure?" asked his mother. Roger had three specific things. "I'm gunna go to the pool with my brother." The pool, formerly owned by the county, was recently purchased by "concerned" citizens who then started charging a buck a swim, or, if you were a member, you could swim for free. Membership cost differently for different people.

"What else?" asked his mother.

"I need a new tube for my bicycle tire." Roger's front tire had been slashed from bad kids back of the county when he went down there to fish. "and I wanna get the new spinners at the fish store."

"You be careful, be respectful at the store and the pool."

Roger went by his brother's place. Delfayo was 10 years older and lived on top the garage where he worked for Mr. Barringer. "I got my treasure! We gunna go to the pool and swim!", said Roger.

"Fool."

Roger was stunned. His brother was looking at him with contempt. "Watch you call me a fool for?"

"If you think spending your treasure to swim some place they don't want you, you a fool."

"What you wanna do then, go swim in the river?"

Delfayo had other plans. "Let's go to Mr. Mitchell's hardware store." They left, and Roger figured it would be good, because he could get his tube there. After they got to the hardware store, Delfayo took Roger back to where they sold guns. Mr. Mitchell had followed them back from the moment they entered the store. Delfayo addressed the owner.

"Mr. Mitchell, my bubba needs to get hisself a rifle so he can hunt some food up now and then for the table." Mr. Mitchell looked suspiciously at the boy and said, "you got any money boy? Guns cost money."

"I got my treasure today, more 'n thirteen dollar."

Mitchell hesitated, "... we-ell, I gues we got a .22 that'll bring down rabbits, grouse, varmints mostly." Delfayo offered up, "you know how we do in the back county Mr. Mitchell. If it got legs or fins, we can make supper from it."

Mr. Mitchell sold Roger a .22 short rifle and a box of Westminster ammunitions, muttering, "don' know is at it's good a-tall to be giving out guns to you folks, hell to come, you ask me."

Delfayo took Roger in his truck out to the Wheatly house. In another time, it had been the Wheatly plantation. Their mother had worked for the Wheatly family and the relationship was friendly. Mr. Wheatly hired Delfayo on occasion to dig up stumps in the horse field. They knocked on the door, and the new maid answered, the one who replaced their mother. She had gone to school with Delfayo.

"Hey, Delfayo, how you going?"

"I'm doing good, Shawna. My brother here got his treasure today and we got him a gun so he could hunt. Mr. Wheatly be okay with us hunting on his land?"

"We-ell, I gotta ask him."

Mr. Wheatly came to the door. "Hey Delfayo, Roger, how you going? How's your momma going?"

"She allright. She keeps busy with church more 'n anything. We came to ask if we could hunt some on your land. Roger got his treasure and needs to start puttin' something on the table."

"Yump, I guess you can do the acres around the river. They's plenty varmints there. Let me get my gun and I'll come along."

Mr. Wheatly joined Roger and Delfayo back of the house to tramp down to the river. "This your first hunt, Roger?"

"Yessir, I ain't even fired no gun." Roger was nervous. All he knew about guns was the trouble they caused when people were angry.

"Ah hell, that ain't nothing but a pea shooter," said Delfayo, "you ain't got nothing to worry about." They tramped along the river until they spotted a covey of grouse. "Roger, you take the first shot," said Mr. Wheatly, "get on up close."

Roger stalked the birds, with his gun in his hand, Delfayo had shown him the safety and how to take it off. "You just point that thing at them birds and get one!"

All at once, the grouse took off, and startled Roger with there ferocious wing beats. He recovered to trace one as it flew by him, and fired.

Mr. Wheatly dropped to his knees. Then fell on his face.

"WHAT YOU DO?!?!" screamed Delfayo. "I..I... we gotta do something! I was just trying to shoot a ol' bird!"

"We? Hell with that! I'm gettin' my ass outa here! What you think they do with a couple black boys and a white man dead? You and me better both get!"

"I ain't doing that! I gotta tell somebody! I gotta get help!"

"You on you own then." Delfayo ran straight towards the road.

Roger made it back to the house and told Shawna what happened. She called the ambulance. The ambulance people called the police.

Roger ended up standing trial for the murder of Mr. Wheatly. It was as his brother expected. Delfayo, who could have served as his only witness was no where to be found. His truck was eventually found in another state. But he was never found. The DA was somewhat sympathetic to Roger's version of the events, and was willing to settle for manslaughter, but the judge in the case wouldn't allow it. Behind closed doors could be heard his exclamation that, "trash. Trash is all that comes from Jones County. We gonna try that boy, and we gonna try him like he's a man."

The DA did his job. Roger was sentenced to 60 years in R. Gregg Cherry Prison.

In Mr. Wheatly's will, the executor was surprised to read a passage that gave an allowance of $10,000 a year to the Haleigh family. The executor paid a visit to Roger's mother and told her about the windfall. "That's quite a treasure you're coming into. What you gonna do with that money?"

She looked at him, through thick glasses he didn't see the bags of many tears. "all my treasure gone, sir. My treasure gone."

__________________
I think the Apocalypse is happening all around us. We go on eating desserts and watching TV. I know I do. I wish we were more capable of sustained passion and sustained resistance. We should be screaming and what we do is gossip. -Lydia Millet

Bob Biter

Wow, poppinjay! That was some great prose!

__________________
A plan is just a list of things that don't happen.

Poppinjay

Thanks! Isn't anybody else going to play?

__________________
I think the Apocalypse is happening all around us. We go on eating desserts and watching TV. I know I do. I wish we were more capable of sustained passion and sustained resistance. We should be screaming and what we do is gossip. -Lydia Millet

Amnesia620

In my cavern, my treasure trove,
sits many wonders just above my stove,
inside this place are many things,
no, not like silver, gems and diamond rings.

Inside my little box, my treasure chest,
are things I've cherished through life's quest,
loving words and pictures, trinkets made to last,
all kept together from days already since passed.

Secrets and stories and laughter they hold,
moments of passion in the midst of winters cold,
here in front of my stove, these treasures stay deep,
inside of my heart are my treasures I keep.

__________________
For example, I find that a lot of college girls are barbie doll carbon copies with few differences...Sadly, they're dumb, ditzy, immature, snotty, fake, or they are the gravitational center to orbiting drama. - Amnesia620

Ganggreen

BURIED TREASURE


Jim was locking the front door when his cell phone rang. His wife Angie and their daughter Eve sat in the minivan impatiently tolerating his usual tardiness. His wife heard the phone ring through the drivers side window and gave him a look that said don't you dare answer it. He looked at her apologetically as he hit the talk button.
"Hello," he answered turning from his wife trying to avoid her angy glare.
"Jimbo! have I got some great news for you."
It was his life long friend Rich Manning. He and Rich had done just about everything together. They went to grammar and high school together, then did a stint in the military together on the buddy system. After the Army, they both went to the same university and graduated the same year. They even got married within 2 months of each other. After they joined the life of the nine to fivers, they stayed close, living within two miles of each other. Their families were close and their wives loved each other and had a lot in common. Escpecially their hatred for Rich and Jim's hobby of the past ten years--treasurehunting. He and Rich had spent the last 10 years searching for a buried treasure; the plunder of Confederate soldiers during the Civil War. They had both heard the story growing up and never gave it much thought. Then, Rich got into metal detecting. He took Jim out one day where they found a couple of old coins. Nothing too rare or worth much, but Jim was bit by the bug that day and went out and bought himself one the next weekend. After a few months of going out on the weekend together, Rich jokinly brought up the legend of the old buried treasure. After an afternoon over fantasizing about it over a few cold beers on the patio, that was it. They became hooked, going to the library, researching Confederate troop movements in the area, picking the brain of people at the local historical society, anything they could do to get them pointed in the right direction. After about six months of research, they came to the conclusion that if it exsisted, it was in about a twelve sqaure mile area of woods that was only about 10 miles from their houses. Twelve square miles didn't sound like much at first, but the reality set in fast when they started waving their metal detectors across it and systematically marked off areas they had previously searched. They were never deterred and vowed to continue searching until they covered the whole thing. That was ten years ago. They had found some neat stuff in those ten years, but no treasure. As a matter of fact, they hadn't even found a hint of it. Until yesterday.
"What's up?" Jim replied.
"The buttons are defenitely Confederate Army."
"Your kidding me right?" He asked trying to control his enthusiasm.
"No sir I am not...and that's not all. The pile of shovelheads that we found buried also date to that era too."
"No way!" Jim said as he peaked at his wife out of the corner of his eye seeing her frustration rising. She pointed at the watch on her arm signaling him that they better get moving. "Are you serious?!?"
"As serious as you'll ever see me," Rich replied sounding almost cocky about his findings. "The Curator at the museum confirmed it. Then he asked if I would be donting them. I told him I'd have to get back to him on that one....can you believe it?!?!"
"Do you know what this means?", Jim asked anxiously.
"It means that if it's there, we're close...real close," Rich answered.
Jim was pacing back and forth at this point growing more exited with every word. All of a sudden he stopped in his tracks. "The mound."
"What?" Rich asked sounding confused.
"The mound!.....right next to the pile of shovel heads. Remeber how I said that that patch of ground looked weird, how it raised up a little bit, and you said it probably because the moss that was growing there."
"Yeah."
"Well what if that moss was put there, you know..to mark it. You even agreed with me that it looked out of place," Rich said eagerly, "And that would explain the shovel heads...if you're burying something and break a few shovels, and throw them off to the side and start digging with a new one, it's possible they could have either been left of even forgotten. Maybe they were covered with leaves or something. Who knows. I know I might be grasping at straws here, but it's possible."
---"Come on! She's gonna be late Jim!" Angie yelled from the car sounding more pleading than angry. Jim barely looked at her and held a up a finger to her that said to hold on a minute.
"Jim, we gotta go there today. No, now. You might be grasping at straws man but you're making sense. TEN YEARS we've been waiting for this, can you believe it? I'm gonna grab a couple of pick axes and shovels out of the shed and I'll be right over," Rich said eagerly .
"No, wait," Jim sighed and looked over at his wife and daughter. It was his daughters first soccer game and he knew he was going to catch an earful if he bailed out on this one. He had done it plenty of times in the past. More than he should have and that was why his wife disliked his hobby so much. He had missed alot of his daughter's activities while she was growing up; school plays, piano recitals, he had even missed half of her birthday party last year becasue he was out in the woods searching for the elusive treasure. It wasn't becasue he didn't love her. He even justified in his own mind that he did this because he loved her, if he could find the treasure he could give his daughter and his wife everything they ever dreamed of. But after a few years of searching for the treasure and missing event after event in his daughters life he began to weigh the sacrafice that not only he, but his family had made for his long quest. He began to feel more guilty as the years went on, and moments in his daughters life passed by. But this time was different. This time they had eveidence; real tangible proof that they were close. "Let me call you right back," Jim said sounding more like a man making his last walk to the gas chamber rather than going to unbury a treasure of untold riches.
He hung up and slid the cellphone in his pocket. When he walked up to the drivers side window instead of sliding in the passengers seat, Angie just gave him a look that said not again.
"What?" she snapped without even looking at him.
"Look, I know, I know, but I really think that we are onto something here honey. I think we found it. Ya see we found these buttons from Confederate Army uniforms and..."
"How much longer is this going to go on Jim?" She said sounding angry and dissapointed, but not loud enough to alarm her daughter that daddy was about to let her down again, "I mean it's been what, ten years now? I mean My God, when is it going to end? How much more of her life do you have to miss so you and Rich can go chase some stupid pipe dream?"
"Honey, we're close, real close, this could be it."
Angie shook her head and looked blankly at the steering wheel, she couldn't even bare to look at him. "You tell her, " She said.
Jim slid open the sliding door to the mini-van. His daughter sat there looking at him with a look of sadness that could melt the heart of even the most hardened man.
"You promised daddy"
"I know sweety, it's just that...," He knew that any excuse he gave was going to fall short and she would be dissapointed no matter what, so he gave up, "Look honey, I'm sorry, I promise I'll be at the next one. Now you go and score a goal for daddy, ok?"
Her look didn't change, if anything it got worse, he could melt right now. He slid the door closed so he didn't have to see her face and feel guilty anymore. He felt awful, but knew that everything would be okay if he came home with that treasure.
Eve unbuckled her seatbelt and climbed to the front passengers seat. He started to walk towards the house when Eve called out from the mini-van.
"Daddy?"
He stopped, "Yes?"
"I love you."
He smiled at her then then came back and walked around to the passengers side and leaned in and gave her a kiss.
"I love you too sweetie."
He watched them drive away and he felt like she understood why he did what he did, like she forgave him and she would love him no matter what. It inspired him. He was going to go find that buried treasure, and he was gonna find it for his little girl.

Jim and Rich arrived at the patch of uprised ground that was covered in moss. They looked at each other almost like a bride and groom meeting at the end of the aisle about to embark on a long awaited and wonderful journey. They each picked up a pick axe and started swinging away.
After about three hours, they were six feet down and had a hole that was about six feet long and three feet wide. They took turns digging. It was hard work, but it could have been worse, the soil was soft and came up rather easily.
They were both feeling discouraged. They stopped digging every once in a while to wave the metal detector around the hole with no results. Metal detectors don't find metal thats really deep in the ground, so they would check it at about every two feet they dug; eagerly scanning the walls and floor of their gravelike hole.
"I think we should call it a day soon" Rich said sounding severely dissapointed.
Jim was just as upset too but also tired enough where he couldn't argue. "Alright, gimme the detector. One more scan and we'll call it a day."
Jim slid the head metodically around the hole; first the walls, then the then the corners, then the bott...
WREEEEEEEEEEEE!!!
The metal detector screamed. Jim and Rich just stared at each other. A loud alarm like that meant something big. Jim passed the detector further over the bottom and it continued....WREEEEEEEEEEEEE...the high pitched whine was annoying but neither one of them had heard a more beutiful sound in their lives at this point. Jim shut it off and just smiled. They just stood there for what seemed like five minutes but in reality was more like twenty seconds. Finally, Rich told Jim to get out of the hole. Jim had been digging for the last half hour and Rich was fresh. Although with the adrenaline that flowed through both of them right now they probably both could dig holes to China. Jim agreed and Rich went to work with the pick axe with the fury of a coal miner. He swung furiously at the bottom of the hole. Thhk, thhk, thhk. He kept swinging, thhk, thhk, THUD. He stopped.
"Hand me the shovel."
Rich began filling up a bucket with the loose dirt and handing it to Jim who would dump it out. After ten buckets, they saw it. An old half-rotted wooden chest. Jim jumped in the hole and they both started working at it feverishly with their hands. Once the top was cleared Jim got out of the hole and grabbed a crowbar from their duffle bag of tools. He jumped back in the hole.
"Here, you do it," Jim said holding the crowbar out to Rich.
Rich looked at the crowbar like it was going to bite him, "No you do it."
They stood their staring at each other then both started laughing at the thought that they had worked ten years for this and now both were hesitating to finish it. Jim Bent down and stuck the crowbar under the lid of the box. Rich smacked it in with the end of the shovel, then Jim laid all his weight on it. It made a creaking sound then popped off.

They stared stonefaced in utter disbelief. Jim looked at Rich who began to cry. Jim had beaten him to it though. In the box lay gold bars lined all the way to the top.

They found 3 wooden boxes all together in the hole. Two were filled with gold bars and one with gold and silver coins. It took another 4 hours and about 20 trips to take the treasure back to Rich's SUV that was parked almost a half mile away on an old dirt logging road. On the last trip, they put the dirt they had dug up back in the hole. Rich didn't want to do it, but Jim talked him into it. Jim thought that a hole dug to the size of a grave might arouse suspicion if anyone wandered onto it. Not only that, but a animal could come along and fall into it. Besides, it didn't take that long because all they had to do was push most of the dirt back in the hole. They were finishing up and it was starting to get dark. By the time they were done it almost looked the same as it had before; just a little raised section of ground. They started to lay the cut up slabs of moss back on it when Jims cell phone rang. He looked at the caller ID and it read ANGIE. He figured she was probably worried becasue it was getting dark. He was just going to surprise her when he got home, but he decided against it; he'd tell her now. He hit TALK on the phone.
"Hello oh beutiful wife of mine," He said with a grin that would shame a clown, "have I got some good news for..."
Rich stared as Jims smile turned to a blank stare, then into something worse. It was fear. Then, shock. He dropped the phone while his hand stayed next to his ear, his body completely frozen.

Jim stood there over the raised up patch of dirt in the ground. He wished he could stay here forever. What lie before him was not a treasure like the one that had eluded him for ten years. He knew right where this one was and it knew would elude him for the rest of his life. This treasure was worth more than all the gold in the world and digging it up would do him no good. It wouldn't bring her back. It hadn't really sunk in when his wife called and told him that their daughter had died when a truck blew a red light and plowed into the passengers side of the mini-van on the way to her soccer game. Eve had died instantly. Angie had been knocked unconcious. She called Jim an hour after she came-to and a half hour after they told her Eve was dead. She couldn't speak until then. But as soon as she could she called Jim. Now she stood next to Jim at the cemetary. She had some cuts and bruises, but was fine. Well, as fine as one could be when your daughter dies in a car accident at ten years old. He looked at Angie and thought of when he came to the hospital after she called him. He had told Angie it was his fault; that if they had left on time, it wouldn't have happened. Or if he was there, she wouldn't have been in the passengers seat. Angie told him it wasn't his fault, but that didn't change his mind about it. He believed that Angie didn't blame him, but he blamed himself none the less- blamed himself for everything he missed in his daughters life. The plays, the piano recitals, the birthday, the soccer game; all gone now. He thought briefly about the buried treasure of gold bars they had found in the woods then turned and looked at Eves grave. His daughter was buried six feet underground here. He wanted to give her everything, but could now give her nothing. Jim fell to the ground weeping, clutching at the loose dirt that balled up in his clinched fists. He wished he could have it all back, do it all over again. But he knew that all the gold in all the world could not bring her back. He wished he could stay here forever....with the most valued thing he ever knew...his daughter...his treasure.

Jinn

Ronny's definition of "treasure" was much different than the rest of his class. When his teacher asked the class to draw a picture of treasure, Ronny drew fifteen stick-figure people. Flustered, his teacher asked him why he had only drawn people, and no treasure.

"That's my treasure," replied Ronny.
"What is?" she asked.
"The people!"

Although he couldn't explain it in second grade, it didn't take Ronny long to realize what he truly meant with that rudimentary picture. You see, when Ronny thought of treasure, he didn't think of gold doubloons and massive wealth. He didn't think of pirates and their secret hideouts. He thought of his mother.

Mommy, or Arielle as the world called her, was his role model. She made him yummy ham sandwiches for lunch, including a surprise in each day's lunch. Today's surprise was a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles action figure. Just like his mother, this turtle was a protector. He sought out the evil in the world, relentlessly pursuing it to protect the innocent denizens of New York. But Ronny didn't love this action figure like he did his mother, because she had something special about her.

Arielle worked at Child Protective Services, filing briefs and writing reports all day long, forty hours of week. It was a tiring and thankless job, but she loved her job. Arielle had been abused as a child, and felt that no one should ever feel the pain she had felt. Because of this, she was dedicated in every case that she had. Just last week she had removed a child from the Juarez household after the husband was arrested for his fourth "spousal abuse" charge. Mr. Juaraz wouldn't be back home for a long time, and Mrs. Juarez still didn't have a job. Arielle stepped in, relocating little Juan to a loving family in the south side. Day in and day out, she dealt with some of the worst people that the city had to offer. She'd been threatened and attacked, spit on and looked down on. She heard pleas of "She stole my baby!" in court, accompanied by the parent's tears. But to Ronny, it wasn't her job that made her extraordinary.

Children have a knack for seeing the best in people, and his mother was certainly no exception. No matter who she talked to, Arielle always spoke softly and kindly. Even as Mr. Juarez was threatening to burn down her house, Arielle was writing a brief to make sure Mr. Juarez would be able to have supervised visitation with his son. Without that document, he would never be able to see his son while in jail. She valued everyone's strengths, and surrounded herself with the best people that she could.

Jon was the neighborhood grandpa. Although he wasn't related to anyone on the block, everyone called him grandpa. After losing his wife in 1999, Jon had devoted his life to helping those around him. Arielle consistently invited him over for dinner, praising his hard work on the Dikara's lawn or his impressive hedge work on the corner. Jon always brought Ronny a piece of candy, and tonight was just like the others. Just after getting home, Ronny found his piece of candy on the bed, just as Jon began to help Mommy cook dinner. "He is a nice man.." thought Ronny. Surrounded by such kind people, Ronny couldn't help but feeling loved.

Even after he grew up and Arielle passed on, Ronny held her life as his most valuable lesson. Now in his mid-40s, Ronny (Dr. Ronald Pitchnuk, as he was now called) was looking through his scrapbook from elementary school. After coming upon his drawing from second grade, he couldn't help but be overcome with tears. Memories of his mother flooded back, and he finally realized what she had taught him. He'd lived his life like he thought his Mother would want him to, but he never knew what that truly meant. At that moment, he realized what he had been trying to express in his picture. People were his treasure.

Whether they were criminals or law-abiding citizens, Ronny loved them all. They all had unique abilities and personalities, and he reveled in their differences. In college, he had been amazed at the diversity he saw walking around the campus. At work, he surrounded himself with the most beautiful of beautiful. Not physically beautiful, but emotionally. He reminded his coworkers daily how valuable their work was, and thanked them for being in his life. Without people, Ronny's life meant nothing. As he fell asleep that night, he reflected on his mother's most valuable, yet unspoken, lesson. Treasure those around you. Even when they're buried with the gold coins and ancient artifacts, their value will surpass any material wealth. By living their lives in respect and love for their fellow humans, they are the life blood of this planet. Strive to be treasured by those around you, and treasure each unique day that you are able to spend with the people of the world." And with that thought, Ronny drifted into the most calm sleep he’d had in years.


// definitely not my favorite piece

__________________
"I'm typing on a computer of science, which is being sent by science wires to a little science server where you can access it. I'm not typing on a computer of philosophy or religion or whatever other thing you think can be used to understand the universe because they're a poor substitute in the role of understanding the universe which exists independent from ourselves." - Willravel

tecoyah

Wealth held in the eyes of my love
My key opens this chest, this treasure
no pirate booty compares to her gaze
no gold brings me such pleasure

__________________
Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned. - Buddha

josie

A Life

It stands empty now-
garden plowed over and roof removed
Remnants of voices and dreams once contained
by walls and ceilings,
set free to rise like ghosts and hover-
blue memories in an
unfeeling sky.

Gone now, all that had been.
An auction of plaster, wood and shingle-
the sale of your hopes.
Martins swoop
through windows of air.
Leaves skitter over floors
worn smooth by years
of children’s feet.

Erased from your eyes, the view
of the levels, silvered and watery
and green with forested knolls.
Jasmine and trailing juniper vines
twine unfettered choking
dark oleander, red berries stain
the untended earth.

He comes to you now, you hear his voice
at night when you are there again
in those rooms open to black air and stars.
And you are lifted- released-
Shed of flesh and bone and skin-
Weightless as a whisper,
at home in your sky.


(Memories - the collected treasure of a lifetime)