Post by brucearmstrong65 on Aug 8, 2016 22:33:45 GMT -6
Welderman – Chapter 30
Saturday, November 28, 2020 – Midnight
Everybody had gone to bed by 10 PM. Jose and Monica were down in the shelter; the last time Third checked, they were both sound asleep – Monica in one of the single-stack beds, Jose in the lower bunk bed next to hers, their heads nearly together, holding hands through the bed railings. Leadfeather and Margie took one of the guest rooms upstairs, and Maria – well, Maria was in bed for about 10 minutes before coming downstairs to sit with Third, claiming she couldn’t sleep without him.
The two of them were sitting at the kitchen table, only half-listening to CNN on the living room TV. The NOAA weather radio was plugged in on the kitchen counter.
Suddenly Third said straight up in his kitchen chair and smacked his forehead. “The cases!” he exclaimed.
“What cases, Third?” Maria asked.
Third explained about the two heavy sample cases he had removed earlier that day from Andy’s study when he and Jose had cleaned out their LTS foods. He went down to the basement quietly and brought the cases, one at a time, back up to the kitchen. Both cases were locked, a situation quickly resolved when Third got Andy’s keys from a kitchen drawer.
The first case contained four bags made of heavy cloth. On top of the bags was a Bore Stores silicone-treated gun case holding what appeared to a genuine M1911 .45 pistol and two loaded magazines. Next to the case was a half-empty box of .45 ACP rounds.
“Andy’s father was a Marine in World War II,” Third told Maria. “I’ll bet this was his pistol.”
Third placed the pistol and magazines back in the case and set it and the ammo aside. He tried to take one of the bags out of the case but couldn’t do so without standing up and lifting with both hands.
Third opened the top of the bag and let out a low whistle. “It’s coins, dozens of plastic tubes.” He picked one out at random and couldn’t speak for a moment. “This tube is full of Morgan dollars. And so is this one, and this one – I’ll bet this whole bag is full of Morgan dollars.”
Third put the rolls back in the bag, put it back in the sample case, and opened up the other bags. “Oh my… this entire case is full of Morgan silver dollars, rolls of 20 coins each. Face value alone this case is worth thousands.”
“What about in silver?” Maria asked.
“The way prices took off before Hillary closed the markets,” Third explained, “I’d say these coins are worth $30 to $50 each, not to mention the collectible value.”
Third put the pistol back in the sample case, closed it, and put it down on the floor. He put the second case on the table, unlocked it, and let out another whistle.
“Four more heavy bags,” Third reported. “He opened the first bag, then the other three. “All loose silver coins – what they call junk silver,” he told Maria. “The bag says $1,000 face value. With silver so high this case is probably worth a hundred grand.”
“Andy took his own advice,” Maria said softly.
“I think he had this stuff for a long time, bought over years,” Third guessed. He closed up the four bags of loose silver and was about to close up the case when he saw the corner of an envelope sticking up from a side pocket. He took hold of the envelope corner and pulled. A large manila envelope was revealed, the front of which simply read THIRD.
Third sat down heavily on the kitchen chair and looked at the envelope without moving to open it. Maria leaned over, saw Third’s name, and put a hand on his arm, saying “Oh, Third.”
Third wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, looking at the envelope. Finally, he turned it over, broke the seal, and removed a stack of legal-looking papers. The first document was entitled “Simone Family Trust.” The second and third documents were wills, one for Andy and one for Gloria. The fourth document was a deed to the house on Third’s street. The last, handwritten on a single sheet, was a letter addressed to Third. He glanced at it and, beginning to cry, handed it to Maria, who read it out loud:
Third:
If you are reading this, something has happened, and Gloria and I are dead.
Sounds like a plot device for a bad Hollywood movie, doesn’t it? Well, it’s true.
Gloria and I had no children or living relatives, though we’ve always considered you a son. Our wills, the family trust and the deed to the house are all here. Everything is yours. Put it to good use.
I hope I’ve helped you and the family over the years. Do me a favor, will you? Find someone else to help out the way I’ve tried to help you. You know, Pay It Forward. (Couldn’t stand that sappy movie, but the general idea is a good one.)
I was going to say make me proud, but you’ve already done that, in spades.
Watch after Maria and take good care of her. She’s a keeper.
Andy
By now Maria was sobbing too. She took the letter and the papers from Third’s hands, tossed them on the table, and sat in his lap, the two wrapping their arms around each other and holding on as if their lives depended on it.
Leadfather came down the stairs buttoning his shirt and heard the sounds of crying from the kitchen. He stuck his head around the corner and, seeing the state Third and Maria were in, went and sat in the living room for a few minutes, watching CNN to see if anything else had happened (it hadn’t). After a few minutes, the crying noises had abated, and Leadfather got up to enter the kitchen, loudly clearing his throat to give them some warning of his arrival.
Leadfather couldn’t help himself at the sight of Maria and Third both red-eyed and teary-faced, with a sample case full of mint bags in front of them. “Good God!” he exclaimed.
Third and Maria managed to laugh at Leadfather’s expression. After getting a nod from Third, Maria handed Leadfather the papers including the letter from Andy. Leadfather started reading and then dropped into a chair himself. He glanced over the papers quickly and put them back in the envelope, which he put back in the open sample case. Leadfather picked up one of the bags, looked at the label, and whistled softly.
“You think that’s something, Lead?” Third said quietly. “Take a look at this.” He opened the other sample case, picked up the gun case and handed it to Leadfather, along with a couple of the rolls of Morgan dollars.
Leadfather’s mouth dropped open, though Third was never quite sure if it was at the sight of the Morgan dollars or, more likely, the classic M1911. Like Third, Leadfather was a stickler for safety and first ejected the magazine and worked the mechanism to be certain the gun was unloaded before examining it closely.
“This is the real thing, Third,” Leadfather exclaimed. “This is a genuine wartime .45, I’m certain of it.”
“Andy’s dad was a Marine in the Pacific,” Third explained. “I think he was at Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima, if memory serves.”
Leadfather was obviously enamored with the pistol. “I thought so. This gun has seen real action, not just target shooting at a range.”
“It’s yours,” Third said quietly.
Leadfather’s mouth fell open again and he was going to protest, but Third held up his hand before Leadfather could utter a word.
“You obviously appreciate it more than anybody else I know would, and we’re pretty well up on firearms,” Third explained. “You’ll treat it right. Besides, you’ve done a lot for us. Call this a belated thank you for the wedding.”
Leadfather was speechless for a moment. Finally he was able to speak. “Thank you, Third, Maria. It’ll be nice to have something of Andy’s close at hand.” He carefully replaced the empty magazine in the pistol and put it and the spare magazines into the Bore Stores case and sat it down on the table.
“Well, I’m for bed,” Maria said, standing up from Third’s lap. “I assume you’re coming up stairs, love?”
Third stood up and closed up the sample case on the table. “Just as soon as I put this stuff away in the shelter.”
“Good. Don’t take too long. G’night, Leadfather.”
Third didn’t quite run down to the basement but he moved as quickly as the two cases allowed him to. He closed the door to the basement stairs, called out a quick “Good night” to Leadfather, and almost ran into Margie on the staircase landing.
“Anything happen?” she asked Third.
“All quiet,” Third assured her. “Leadfather’s in the kitchen.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He got a new gun tonight, or at least new to him. He’ll explain. Good night, Margie.”
“See you in a while, Third.”
Saturday, November 28, 2020 – Midnight
Everybody had gone to bed by 10 PM. Jose and Monica were down in the shelter; the last time Third checked, they were both sound asleep – Monica in one of the single-stack beds, Jose in the lower bunk bed next to hers, their heads nearly together, holding hands through the bed railings. Leadfeather and Margie took one of the guest rooms upstairs, and Maria – well, Maria was in bed for about 10 minutes before coming downstairs to sit with Third, claiming she couldn’t sleep without him.
The two of them were sitting at the kitchen table, only half-listening to CNN on the living room TV. The NOAA weather radio was plugged in on the kitchen counter.
Suddenly Third said straight up in his kitchen chair and smacked his forehead. “The cases!” he exclaimed.
“What cases, Third?” Maria asked.
Third explained about the two heavy sample cases he had removed earlier that day from Andy’s study when he and Jose had cleaned out their LTS foods. He went down to the basement quietly and brought the cases, one at a time, back up to the kitchen. Both cases were locked, a situation quickly resolved when Third got Andy’s keys from a kitchen drawer.
The first case contained four bags made of heavy cloth. On top of the bags was a Bore Stores silicone-treated gun case holding what appeared to a genuine M1911 .45 pistol and two loaded magazines. Next to the case was a half-empty box of .45 ACP rounds.
“Andy’s father was a Marine in World War II,” Third told Maria. “I’ll bet this was his pistol.”
Third placed the pistol and magazines back in the case and set it and the ammo aside. He tried to take one of the bags out of the case but couldn’t do so without standing up and lifting with both hands.
Third opened the top of the bag and let out a low whistle. “It’s coins, dozens of plastic tubes.” He picked one out at random and couldn’t speak for a moment. “This tube is full of Morgan dollars. And so is this one, and this one – I’ll bet this whole bag is full of Morgan dollars.”
Third put the rolls back in the bag, put it back in the sample case, and opened up the other bags. “Oh my… this entire case is full of Morgan silver dollars, rolls of 20 coins each. Face value alone this case is worth thousands.”
“What about in silver?” Maria asked.
“The way prices took off before Hillary closed the markets,” Third explained, “I’d say these coins are worth $30 to $50 each, not to mention the collectible value.”
Third put the pistol back in the sample case, closed it, and put it down on the floor. He put the second case on the table, unlocked it, and let out another whistle.
“Four more heavy bags,” Third reported. “He opened the first bag, then the other three. “All loose silver coins – what they call junk silver,” he told Maria. “The bag says $1,000 face value. With silver so high this case is probably worth a hundred grand.”
“Andy took his own advice,” Maria said softly.
“I think he had this stuff for a long time, bought over years,” Third guessed. He closed up the four bags of loose silver and was about to close up the case when he saw the corner of an envelope sticking up from a side pocket. He took hold of the envelope corner and pulled. A large manila envelope was revealed, the front of which simply read THIRD.
Third sat down heavily on the kitchen chair and looked at the envelope without moving to open it. Maria leaned over, saw Third’s name, and put a hand on his arm, saying “Oh, Third.”
Third wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, looking at the envelope. Finally, he turned it over, broke the seal, and removed a stack of legal-looking papers. The first document was entitled “Simone Family Trust.” The second and third documents were wills, one for Andy and one for Gloria. The fourth document was a deed to the house on Third’s street. The last, handwritten on a single sheet, was a letter addressed to Third. He glanced at it and, beginning to cry, handed it to Maria, who read it out loud:
Third:
If you are reading this, something has happened, and Gloria and I are dead.
Sounds like a plot device for a bad Hollywood movie, doesn’t it? Well, it’s true.
Gloria and I had no children or living relatives, though we’ve always considered you a son. Our wills, the family trust and the deed to the house are all here. Everything is yours. Put it to good use.
I hope I’ve helped you and the family over the years. Do me a favor, will you? Find someone else to help out the way I’ve tried to help you. You know, Pay It Forward. (Couldn’t stand that sappy movie, but the general idea is a good one.)
I was going to say make me proud, but you’ve already done that, in spades.
Watch after Maria and take good care of her. She’s a keeper.
Andy
By now Maria was sobbing too. She took the letter and the papers from Third’s hands, tossed them on the table, and sat in his lap, the two wrapping their arms around each other and holding on as if their lives depended on it.
Leadfather came down the stairs buttoning his shirt and heard the sounds of crying from the kitchen. He stuck his head around the corner and, seeing the state Third and Maria were in, went and sat in the living room for a few minutes, watching CNN to see if anything else had happened (it hadn’t). After a few minutes, the crying noises had abated, and Leadfather got up to enter the kitchen, loudly clearing his throat to give them some warning of his arrival.
Leadfather couldn’t help himself at the sight of Maria and Third both red-eyed and teary-faced, with a sample case full of mint bags in front of them. “Good God!” he exclaimed.
Third and Maria managed to laugh at Leadfather’s expression. After getting a nod from Third, Maria handed Leadfather the papers including the letter from Andy. Leadfather started reading and then dropped into a chair himself. He glanced over the papers quickly and put them back in the envelope, which he put back in the open sample case. Leadfather picked up one of the bags, looked at the label, and whistled softly.
“You think that’s something, Lead?” Third said quietly. “Take a look at this.” He opened the other sample case, picked up the gun case and handed it to Leadfather, along with a couple of the rolls of Morgan dollars.
Leadfather’s mouth dropped open, though Third was never quite sure if it was at the sight of the Morgan dollars or, more likely, the classic M1911. Like Third, Leadfather was a stickler for safety and first ejected the magazine and worked the mechanism to be certain the gun was unloaded before examining it closely.
“This is the real thing, Third,” Leadfather exclaimed. “This is a genuine wartime .45, I’m certain of it.”
“Andy’s dad was a Marine in the Pacific,” Third explained. “I think he was at Guadalcanal and Iwo Jima, if memory serves.”
Leadfather was obviously enamored with the pistol. “I thought so. This gun has seen real action, not just target shooting at a range.”
“It’s yours,” Third said quietly.
Leadfather’s mouth fell open again and he was going to protest, but Third held up his hand before Leadfather could utter a word.
“You obviously appreciate it more than anybody else I know would, and we’re pretty well up on firearms,” Third explained. “You’ll treat it right. Besides, you’ve done a lot for us. Call this a belated thank you for the wedding.”
Leadfather was speechless for a moment. Finally he was able to speak. “Thank you, Third, Maria. It’ll be nice to have something of Andy’s close at hand.” He carefully replaced the empty magazine in the pistol and put it and the spare magazines into the Bore Stores case and sat it down on the table.
“Well, I’m for bed,” Maria said, standing up from Third’s lap. “I assume you’re coming up stairs, love?”
Third stood up and closed up the sample case on the table. “Just as soon as I put this stuff away in the shelter.”
“Good. Don’t take too long. G’night, Leadfather.”
Third didn’t quite run down to the basement but he moved as quickly as the two cases allowed him to. He closed the door to the basement stairs, called out a quick “Good night” to Leadfather, and almost ran into Margie on the staircase landing.
“Anything happen?” she asked Third.
“All quiet,” Third assured her. “Leadfather’s in the kitchen.”
“What’s he doing?”
“He got a new gun tonight, or at least new to him. He’ll explain. Good night, Margie.”
“See you in a while, Third.”