by Matt Musson
“That’s true,” said Charlie. “Only this document was never delivered. Mr. Burns said that the dispatch case and its contents had been recovered from the body of a messenger who had been shot dead in the field. There is a chance the secret of the hidden gold may have died with him?”
At that point we were all ready to head for the First Baptist Church right then and there. But, we had a battle to practice for. And all seven of us running out in the middle of the exercise would have attracted a lot of attention. Not to mention, our teachers would have given us all ‘F’s for lack of participation. So, the rest of the afternoon dragged by as Toby and I stood 10 paces to the rear of Ollie Tolley’s cannons. The loud speaker alternately played the theme from Glory and The Ballad of the Green Berets. We sweated in our wool uniforms. We brushed away flies. And, we listened as two High School aged artillerymen argued on and on about how the Civil War would have been different if the Confederacy had tactical air support.
*************
At 4 o’clock on the dot, Company A mounted up on our bicycles and left the battlefield. Heading directly for down town Granite Falls, we made record time and were wheeling up in front of the Church as the clock across the street in front the bunker-like Bank of Granite changed to 4:07.
Now, the First Baptist Church of Granite Falls is also built like a bunker. It is an imposing structure of local pink ‘Granite Falls’ granite and the boxy square building is set up on a manmade hill that adds to its commanding presence. Skinny stained glass windows, primarily deep blues, reds and purples, are interspersed along the sides of the building. And, there is a massive steeple in the front that is probably the tallest spot in town. Double steel doors guard the front of the building. Over the top of doors is a notice chiseled into solid rock: “Abandon all sin, Yee who enter here”
“Okay Jeep,” Freddie encouraged. “Find that Gold!”
Now, that is the kind of treatment that gets me steamed up. Just because I was born with the psychic ability to find things, the guys sometimes act like I am a treasure sniffing blood hound. And, I decided right then and there to stand up for myself.
“Freddie,” I lectured. “You know we have talked about this many times. I get offended when you order me around like a trained dog.”
I don’t know if my reprimand made any difference but I could tell that at least I frustrated the little guy by the way he exhaled sharply and rolled his eyes.
“Okay Jeep,” Freddie responded and followed with an overly dramatic statement. “I am profoundly sorry if I have offended you. I realize that you are not a dog but a person who was born with the ability to find things. And, I know that you worked with your Grandpa Gus for years to cultivate and sharpen your locating gift. So, please, I am begging your forgiveness. Please overlook my poor manners. And, please use your unique skill to search these premises for gold.”
“There,” said Freddie. “Are you happy, now?”
“Yes,” I conceded. “I hate to be a stickler. But, all I want is the respect that is my proper due.”
“Great,” replied Freddie. “Then, find the gold and I’ll give you a Milk bone!”
Of course, I frogged Freddie a solid shot to his right shoulder. But, I don’t think it had much of an impact. Freddie is the kind of a guy who would gladly trade a frog in the arm for a good laugh any day.
Anyway, I could not change Freddie Dunkleberger. So, I decided to ignore him. And, since one thing I can do well is find lost stuff, I began to invoke my gift by closing my eyes and concentrating. Breathing quietly, I did my best to listen for the distinctive sound of gold coming from the Church ground. Then, slowly I began to circle the building. Whenever one of the guys started to interrupt, I put up my hand for the silence I needed to be at my best. And, listening for the a 24 karat serenade, I walked across the front of the building. Then, I moved along the right side. Concentrating ever harder I paced along the back of the Church. Then, finally, I moved deliberately up left side of the building and stopped in front of my fellow club members.
“Nope,” I announced to the anxious faces. “It’s clean. There’s no gold here. I can’t hear anything that even sounds like gold.”
“Are you sure?” Freddie pleaded. “You only went around once. Maybe you missed it. Go around again and maybe you’ll pick up something.”
“Or,” Shad chimed in, “maybe the gold is in lead boxes – like kryptonite. And, the treasure rays aren’t getting through to you.”
“That might be a possibility,” I agreed, but then took the opportunity to roll my own eyes and added, “But only if Lex Luthor was Treasurer of the Confederacy.” I hated to burst their bubble but there was no gold here. “I’m sorry guys. It’s just not here. Someone must have dug it up a long time ago.”
“Are you not getting gold sounds at all?” Toby asked. “Maybe you are not tuned in on the correct gold wavelength?”
“Actually, I am picking up gold. I can hear the sound of the gold leaf on the steeple of the First Apple when I walk around back. And, standing here in front I can get some gold tones from TuderBurg’s Jewelry across the street. I’m just not finding anything here on the Church property.”
It was not what the guys wanted to hear. But, I could not conjure gold out of thin air just to make them happy. Plus, I was disappointed myself. I wanted to find gold just as badly as they did.
So, downhearted, we began mounting up on our bicycles for a sad ride home, when Bogdon Peabody made a discovery.
“Wait, I found something!” Bogdon announced.
“Is it gold?” Freddie asked hopefully.
“No, it’s the church Cornerstone. It says 1958!”
It was clear to everyone that we were barking up the wrong tree. This was the First Baptist Church of Granite Falls. But, it had to be a different Church from the one the Confederates hid all that gold in. This Church was not built until over ninety years after the fact. So, now confused and disappointed, we mounted up and rode home.
*************
The next day broke bright and cool, and we were back at the battlefield by 10 AM. The reenactment started out okay. From our artillery position we had a pretty good vantage point to watch the Union advance to Deep Gap Creek. The attack culminated with a tremendous explosion that splintered the wooden footbridge into a million pieces. (The explosion may not have been historically accurate but it sure made for an exciting finish).
After the attack we broke for lunch again; and by that time Toby and I really needed that break. Our two High School crewmates were now arguing about how different the Civil War would have ended if the Confederacy had formed an alliance with the Klingon Empire. And, the loud speaker kept playing the same music over and over; the themes from Gone with the Wind and The Great Escape. Toby and I felt like we needed our own escape.
I had not had much dinner the night before. I was excited and then disappointed about the Confederate gold. So, by late morning I was ready to eat my fist. I know I was all smiles when that Mule wagon pulling the First Apple ladies come rolling up. Today’s menu included was chicken stew, fried catfish with hushpuppies, fresh baked bread, real churned butter and homemade peach preserves. (Yum! A fella could get use to this.)
Miss Hattie was there making sure us boys had plenty to eat and drink. Once we were served they started to move on. We had to remind them to take our meal tickets. Then, as Miss Hattie was putting the slips into the old cigar box the First Apple ladies were using for keeping the tickets, I had a thought.
“Miss Hattie”, I said. “Do you remember when they built the First Baptist Church of Granite Falls?”
“I sure do, child. In fact, I had three older brothers that hauled stone for that building. And, Momma was part of the cleaning crew that dusted and waxed the floor before the dedication service. My, my, child that floor shined like a mirror. It just made you feel like you were in the House of the Lord.”
&nbs
p; “Ma’am, what happened to the old First Baptist Church? Did they tear it down?”
“No, child. No, indeed. Those good folks could not bear the thought of tearing it down. So, the sold it instead.”
“Well, who did they sell it to, Miss Hattie?”
“Why to us, of course. It’s now the First Apple.”
I looked at the guys and they looked at me. And, we just shook our heads. How could seven seventh grade boys be so completely clueless?
*******
As soon as the wagon moved on and we were alone, Charlie spoke up. “Well you guys know this is just like that Edgar Allan Poe story we read last month in English class, ‘The Purloined Letter’.”
“I remember that one,” Thor explained. “This guy stole a letter and then hid it on his desk with a bunch of other letters so no one noticed it there in plain sight.”
“That’s right,” agreed Charlie. “He hid it right out in the open. No one noticed it because it was what they expected to see. So, that’s exactly what those Rebels did in Granite Falls.” Charlie paused for effect. “You know where that gold is, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” said Shad. “It’s buried under the First Apple.”
“No, goofball. It’s not underneath the church. It’s on top! The Rebels made the gold into a steeple and put it on top of the Church. Then, they told everyone it was Gold leaf and the whole town has been ignoring it for over a hundred and fifty years.”
“It’s ingenious,” said Bogdon.
“Inspired,” added Toby.
“What do we do now?” asked Shad. “I mean, how do we get up to that steeple and find out if we are right?”
We all thought hard for a moment. Then the answer hit me, so I addressed the guys, “I know someone who has a crane.”
*************
Ollie Tolley was just finishing his deployment of the Yankee cannon. They were all set up for the shelling that would begin at sundown. And, Major Tolley was hot and dirty and ready for lunch, when the seven of us appeared with a wild story about Confederate gold on a church steeple in Granite Falls. As you can imagine he was not that receptive at first. But, I’ll give him this. He found a spot in the shade and sipped on a cold can of Pepsi and listened to what we had to say.
After he cooled off a little, Mr. Tolley began to show some interest. Finally, when Bogdon performed his lemonade trick on Charlie’s dispatch and the writing appeared, that did the trick. Ollie Tolley chugged the last of his Pepsi, crushed the can in his hand and said, “Let’s go see.”
Mr. Tolley got behind the wheel of his flat bed truck with the crane mounted behind the cab. He did not even stop to unload a 3 inch parrot gun that was tied down on the back. We hopped on our bikes and took off after him, bound for the First Apple.
The First Apostolic Church of the Chosen and Redeemed is two blocks back from the First Baptist Church on Main Street. But, those two blocks make a world of difference. While First Baptist is in the center of town, First Apple has the feel of a country church. It is small by comparison to its successor and the little wooden structure is in perfect condition. There is no rotten wood and everything is freshly painted. The Grass lawn is manicured. Even the bean field that stretches off on the East side seems particularly well cared for.
As soon as we pulled up beside the Church, Mr. Tolley got out and hooked a stand-in basket onto the edge of the hydraulic crane. He told Freddie to climb on in. Almost before Freddie was set, Mr. Tolley was at the controls lifting him up to the steeple.
“How do I tell if it’s the gold?” Freddie asked as he was telescoped upward.
Toby answered, “Just tap on side with your finger. If it’s gold leaf over wood it’ll sound just like wood. If it’s solid gold, it should give a thunk.”
Mr. Tolley got Freddie into position. Freddie put his ear against the steeple and tapped. Down on the ground we held our breath.
“I think it thunked,” said Freddie.
“What do you mean ‘You think it thunked?” demanded an exasperated Ollie Tolley. “Did it thunk or not?”
Freddie rapped it again. “It thunked,” he said. “It’s gold.”
On the ground, we let out a cheer. We had done it. We had found the Confederate Gold that had been hidden since the Civil War. Mr. Tolley started retracting the crane and brought Freddie back down to earth.
“What do we do now?” asked Shad. “Do we call 911 and say we found Civil War gold?”
“No!” Mr. Tolley almost shouted. “No cops,” he ordered. Then, he added more calmly, “First we need to tell the Church. It’s their steeple. It’s their gold. They should be the first ones to know.”
That seemed reasonable to us.
“I’m sure they can put all that gold to good use,” Bogdon added.
Mr. Tolley nodded before suggesting, “I tell you what. I’ll stay here and watch the steeple and you guys go get the First Apple Ladies.”
“Do you want some of us to stay here with you?” Charlie offered.
“No. That’s okay. I’ll be fine by myself. I may even go up in the bucket and take a look. I’ve never seen that kind of gold before.”
*************
We did not waste any time as we flew back to the battlefield on our Huffy BMX’s, still sporting Union blues. We looked like some weird cavalry of Civil War mountain bikers.
When we found the First Apple Ladies they had just finished serving lunch and had their mule cart headed for home. They were moving awfully slow. They were probably exhausted from cooking half the night and serving food most all day. But, when we told them about their golden steeple, they seemed to get a second wind.
Miss Hattie stood up on the front of her cart and addressed her steed, “Brother Mule. It’s time for us to be about the Lord’s work. I know you have carried a heavy burden this day. But, a steeple made of gold and a sack of tasty carrots await us back at the First Apple. So step lively. Your orange reward is at hand.”
She shook the reins and the wagon shot out faster than I ever thought it could move. I think they might have lost some pots and pans along the way. But, Miss Hattie was determined to get back to the church and see that steeple for herself.
We reached the First Apple in record time; way before Ollie Tolley expected us. In fact, we got their just in time to catch him driving off in his crane truck – with the golden steeple sitting on the flat bed. It took us a second to realize what was going on.
“Hey! He’s rippin’ us off!” Shad finally yelled.
The crane truck was moving pretty slow as it took off across the parking lot just faster than a jog. We had interrupted him before he had the steeple firmly lashed down so Mr. Tolley was forced to avoid any jarring motions that might bump it off the trailer. When he came to the bean field, the soft rich soil slowed him down even more. That’s why he had offloaded the parrot gun. With the additional weight of the cannon, the truck probably would have gotten bogged down in the soft earth of the bean field.
Always cool in a crisis, Toby reacted immediately and dialed 911. But, the dispatcher had trouble understanding our predicament. A solid gold church steeple, a crane truck driving across a bean field and a lost Confederate treasure are not things that get reported every day.
Meanwhile, the other Rangers yelling at the fleeing truck, while the First Apple Ladies prayed. I just stood there trying figure out how to stop that truck. That’s when I realized that there was a cannon sitting next to me. And, in addition to the parrot gun, Mr. Tolley had unloaded all kinds of extra artillery gear including powder, a ram rod and several of the demonstration cannon balls that were always passed around to the spectators.
“Toby, hang up and give me hand!”
I ran around the cannon and began turning the barrel toward the Mr. Tolley’s truck. Toby saw what I was doing, and he ran over and picked up the black power can. Grabbing the measuring tube, he filled it up before pouring the powder down the bun
barrel. Then, I forced the power down the tube with the antique ramrod. Then, Toby rolled in one of the display cannon ball. And, once again, I rammed in rod while Toby poured some powder down the fuse hole. It was the first time we had ever loaded a cannon, but we had spent days watching it done. Now, all we needed was a little good luck!
Mr. Tolley’s truck was slowly moving from right to left across the field of fire. Together, Toby and I adjusted the cannon to lead the moving vehicle a bit. Finally, I pulled an extra long striking match from the pile of stuff thrown down beside us.
“Stand back!” I yelled to Toby.
Striking the match, I touched it to the powder.
‘KAABBBOOOMMMM’
The sound was incredibly loud! And, we could actually see the cannon ball rocket out of the barrel and across the bean field. It dropped a lot faster than I expected or I would have added more elevation. We watched the cannon ball shred a bunch of soybean plants, bounce off the plowed earth and skip back into the air.
I don’t know if it was beginners luck or an answered prayer, but the cannon ball smashed dead center into the truck’s left rear tire and ripped it off. And, it did not just knock off the rubber. That iron ball knocked the entire back axle off the truck. One second it was a four wheeled vehicle and then suddenly there were no rear tires at all. The two wheeled truck skidded to a stop; its rear end settling into the deep red soil and soybeans. Neither that truck, nor Mr. Tolley, would be going anywhere anytime soon.
*************
Two days later, Treasury Agents from the US Government showed up and they immediately took custody of the steeple, claiming the Confederate gold was property of the United States under the Reparations Act of 1865. (I guess that’s why they call them Treasury Agents – they take your treasure.) However, the Treasury Department did agree that the First Apple was due a 10% finder’s fee. Since there was $2.3 Million in gold, the Church got $230,000, plus money for a new steeple. I was a little put out by the meager settlement, but Miss Hattie said she was glad to see that the U.S. Government knew how to tithe.
