A Vision Touch

By J.A. Sprouls

Jade has a gift, whenever she touches something she has visions that transport her back in time. These visions deal with the history of the object that she touches. When her friend, antique dealer, Alma, finds a pocket watch, Jade uses her gift to help find out the history of the object. Jade travels from current times through the Civil War all the way back to the Revolutionary War following the lives and deaths of the family members who have 'touched' the watch and thus imbued it with their memories. While discovering the history of this family they also discover that a treasure was buried and just might still be there. So they embark on a journey to find the treasure but end up getting involved with a local murder and considered possible suspects in the murder. It is up to them to figure out, using Jade's gift, who the true murderer is and to find the treasure.

• Language: English
• Publisher: J.A. Sprouls
• Release date: Dec 11, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301087723

J.A. Sprouls

J.A. Sprouls lives in the beautiful and rather flat Plains of West Texas. As a former antique dealer whose business tanked along with the rest of the country's economy, she had to go out and get a real job. Writing, for her, has become a way to wind down after a long day and escape reality for just a short while. 'My Grandfather Is One Heck Of A Mummy' is the first in what will hopefully be a successful cozy mystery series. The second novel in the series, 'Mace Of Spades,' with 'Cowabunga Dead' as the third in the series. Another series that she has written is the Cryptozoology Series with two current books: 'Kamikaze Pigs' and 'Don Coyote.' She has even tried writing a youth novel series titled: 'Abigail Dumpling Adventures.' She has also written two non-series books: 'A Vision Touch' and 'Death Drives a Chevy.' She is currently working on her next novel and should soon be finished. She enjoys writing cozy mysteries with a humorous touch and hopes her readers enjoy reading them as much as she has enjoyed writing them.

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A Vision Touch

By J.A. Sprouls

Published by J.A. Sprouls at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 J.A. Sprouls

Cover Design Copyright 2012

J.A. Sprouls

Discover other titles by J.A. Sprouls at Smashwords.com:

My Grandfather Is One Heck Of A Mummy

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/22897

Mace Of Spades

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/43569

Kamikaze Pigs

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/97712

An Accidental Pirate: The Adventures of Captain Pigtail McQueue

http://www.smashwords.com/books/view/154993

Smashwords Edition, License notes

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All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners. This work is based on a family genealogy. While the basic facts are documented, any conversations, descriptions and situations are embellishments of the facts, while other things are pure fiction: such as the pocket watch and treasure. The author has tried to credit all references within the story. Any references that have been missed was not intentional.

Dedicated to my Mother and Sister

For always being there!

In Memory of my Grandmother, Inez, a true survivor!

~~~~~~

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Epilogue

About The Author

~~~~~~

Prologue

My mother always said I had a gift. But a gift is defined as a natural ability that somebody is born with, or it's something given to someone out of gratitude. I simply can't figure out why God gave me this gift. I didn't ask for it and I don't particularly want it. It's just too demanding of a gift. Not to mention it really gets in the way at the most inopportune times.

Whenever I touch something, most particularly something that is very old, I immediately get a 'reading' on the object. A reading is, in the most simplistic terms, a vision that tells me about the object, or more appropriately, about the people who have come in contact with it. If the people had a strong connection to the object then I will see things in that person's life. It doesn't necessarily have anything to do with the actual object but has everything to do with the person and their life. Just so long as the person at one time in their life actually touched the object themselves. Memories can attach themselves to an object without the object actual being there at the time the memories are made.

I once held a spatula that had belonged to a short order cook. I not only saw into his time as a cook but I saw when his first child was born and when he had been beaten up for being a sissy who liked home economics class. The spatula had such an important role in his life that other parts of his life naturally mingled with the other memories.

My visions, in and of themselves, are the main problem. I could be standing on a crowded street corner but if I'm having a vision, then I'm in the time and place that the event occurred. So you can see how that can be a problem. If a bus were to lose control and come careening around the corner about to hit me, I wouldn't know it because I would be someplace else, even if it was only in my mind.

So you can see why I don't feel all that comfortable about my 'gift.' But since it's one of those special gifts that can't be returned or re-gifted, it appears as though I'm stuck with it. So I do try to make the most of it. Well, that and I wear gloves as much as possible. I don't get 'readings' when I'm wearing gloves. I have to actually have skin contact with the object for me to get a reading. Needless to say, I went with a profession that would allow the use of gloves without too many comments. I work at a museum. Since the artifacts are precious, we try to limit any type of damage that could occur. That means wearing gloves in order to keep the oils from a person's hand from damaging the artifact. This job also has its down side. I mean, everything we have is antique, so that means that most of the objects have very strong memories tied to them. If I accidentally touch an object then I go into my 'readings mode.' It can take a good ten minutes before the memories dissipate and I can continue with the job at hand. I am lucky that the museum director is an understanding woman. Otherwise, my lapses could have cost me my job. I just try and make a point of putting on my gloves just after I arrive at work and not take them off until I'm out of the museum. It does help cut down on the number of readings I get in a day or even a week.

In fact, this is the first full week that I have gone without accidentally brushing up against something. So I've had a full reading free week. That's probably a first since my gift reared its ugly head when I was five. But, of course, I knew it couldn't last. It never does.

~~~~~

Chapter 1

My best friend, Alma, is an antique dealer. She goes on salvage and digging excavations throughout the country and brings back all sorts of artifacts. She uses me to find out the history of the item. I really don't like to be used in this way but if she does find a particularly good item then she will give the museum first dibs on it and usually reduces the price so that the museum can afford to purchase it for the collections. As it happened, just as my first week of being reading free was winding down, Alma was returning from a trip to Oklahoma. She called just as soon as she had gotten back, letting me know that she could use my services. She seemed really excited about a specific piece and couldn't wait for me to come over.

I hesitated I mean, really, a whole week free of readings and here she was asking me to ruin the record. I was hoping this could be my longest stretch yet of no readings. I had even considered calling Guinness about it. But that would require my revealing my gift to the world and I don't think I am ready to do that just yet. I sighed into the phone and told her about my attempt on a new record. She wasn't impressed.

Look, you can set the record some other time. I have some very interesting items that I think the museum will want. Now I can't offer them to the museum until you do one of your readings. You know the director isn't gonna buy anything until you confirm its history. Alma said in an exasperated tone.

But it's a record for me. You have no idea what it's like having these visions invade your mind. It's very disconcerting, I shot back at her.

Yeah, yeah, yeah, I would give anything to have your gift. It would help my business so much. I also wouldn't have to pay someone else to do the job.

You pay someone to do this? I know I haven't seen a dime. Well, okay, there was that double eagle gold piece you had me take a reading on, but it wasn't any type of payment. I felt the need to point this out.

I pay you by letting the museum have the items at a reduced price. I think that's a pretty good deal.

That is only because it saves you money. And you know darn well that you make a good profit from all your sales. I did think she should admit that much.

I never said I didn't. I don't think you realize just how much I could make on the internet for the items I sell to the museum. It would be two times, minimum, so you guys get off cheap. So when can I expect you to come by? Alma had a twinge of excitement in her tone.

But what about my record? I asked. I mean, this does not happen every day, or should I say, week. I would dearly love to see how long I can make it without a vision. I knew there would be nothing I could say to keep her from harping on me, but by golly, I was gonna try.

Okay, let me tell you what I have. And if you think you can resist the urge to come on down, then so be it. How's that sound?

Great, now she's trying to Bob Barker me into doing it. Though I was pretty sure there wouldn't be a prize in it for me. I figured I would resist it no matter what the heck it was, then she could sit on her, um… laurels until my streak broke.

Fine, but I warn you, I have an iron strong will and in all likelihood I will resist the temptation.

She laughed and then said, Okay, Little Miss Resistance, I happened to find out where some old wagon trails were up in Oklahoma. So I followed them with my metal detector. There was this one trail from Atoka that was particularly profitable. Now in case you have forgotten your history, Atoka is in the former Indian Territory of Oklahoma. Yes, I found some arrowheads and some of the usual stuff, like old wagon wheels, or to be more exact, the metal from the wagon wheels. I also found some coins and a couple of very rusty gun parts. But the piece de resistance, I found a tin container and guess what was in it. She paused for a moment then said, Never mind, you've never been any good at guessing games, so I'll tell you. Inside was a pocket watch. The tin can protected it from too much damage. I have Billy, from the Watch and Wear Shoppe, coming over to look at it and clean it up a bit. Ha! Now refuse that, I dare you. I couldn't see her but I knew she had a big old smug smile on her face.

Piddle. She was right. It was way too tempting to pass up. How often do you find an intact pocket watch on an old wagon trail? I mean the history alone makes it an interesting piece but who knows what I could glean from it with just one reading. I cupped my face in my hands and groaned to myself. Fine, okay, you win, I'm on my way. I sulked down the stairs and was about to leave when I bumped into the director, Natalie Kirby.

Jade, you look down in the dumps. Anything I can do? She asked.

No. I sighed. I've gone a whole week without one vision and I was hoping to go for a new record but Alma called and she has this pocket watch that she found on an old wagon trail. So now I have to go to her store and take a reading on it.

Oh, dear, I'm sorry that your record will be broken but just think of what you might find out about the pocket watch. Goodness, this is exciting. Wait just a second, I'll go with you. I can't believe it, a pocket watch from a wagon trail. Let me get my purse. She ran up the stairs to her office and was back in better time than Carl Lewis at the Olympics.

We headed downtown to Alma's store. It's located in the District Depot Hub that the city has created in an effort to revitalize the downtown area. Most of the stores had moved to the newer parts of town and set up strip malls there. So the city decided it would be best to try and get some of the stores back and that way there wouldn't be so many vacant and abandoned buildings downtown. I have to admit that the efforts have been paying off. Though most of the stores there now are antique stores, but at least it was bringing in new businesses.

~~~~~

Chapter 2

The sled bells Alma had picked up in Wisconsin tinkled as we walked in. Alma was over at the front display case with a rather chubby and red faced fellow who was wearing overalls with a red plaid shirt underneath. She waved for us to come over but put a finger to her lips to make sure we kept quiet while he examined the watch.

I noticed that he was wearing gloves. I sighed with relief. That would be one less person whose memories would be transmitted to the watch. I really hate to go through so many useless memories before I get to the heart of the true memories, those memories that are a part of the actual previous owner's life. By wearing gloves he wasn't gonna transfer anything of himself over to the watch.

The chubby fellow looked up with a great grin on his face. My goodness, this is a real treat. What you have here is an authentic John Neshsmith Watch. He was an English watch maker. I'd say this is circa late 1760's maybe 1770's. He was very well known for creating a simplistic but very accurate and mechanically sound watch. You see here, he indicated a very small signature inside the watch. It says 'Neshsmith, No. 12 Invenit et Fecit' so that proves he made the watch. Yes, it is a fine example. There aren't a lot of his watches that have survived but this one is a beauty. The gold filigree is just beautiful. And to make things even better, it won't take too much to clean it up. Bet I could even get it to working again. Whoever owned it took very good care of it. The only problem is this big dent in it but that's just a part of its history. Though I sure wish there was some way we could find out how it happened. What a story that could be. He chuckled more to himself than to the others

I hit Alma in the ribs before she could say anything. I knew she was just a mere seconds away from telling him my secret. She stifled a small grunting noise and then just smiled back at the man.

So how long would it take to get it going again? Alma asked.

Oh, I'd say about a week. Actually, I could take it right now and get started on it immediately. I must say, I never thought I would ever have the chance to see, let alone work on, a Neshsmith original. I can hardly wait. He was rubbing his hands in anticipation.

So basically you want to take it right now and start working on it, right? I just wanted to make sure I got things clear.

Oh, my, yes, I would love to start the ball rolling to getting this great timepiece back to its original working condition.

That's fine, just how long do you think it will take again, a week? So you would guarantee it would be ready in a week? Alma asked as she looked at me out of the side her eyes.

A week, most definitely, maybe sooner, that is if I put everything else on the back burner. Which I would be more than willing to do, and if I don't find anything majorly wrong with the inner workings, he said excitedly.

Just how much more will that cost me? Alma could see the costs skyrocketing with each hour he spent on the watch.

I wouldn't charge you anything extra, I promise, just my regular rate. After all, it will be an honor to work on such a timepiece, he said as he smiled down at the watch.

Hmmm… so maybe you should pay me for such an honor… Alma had started but the chubby man laughed and corrected her, I'm still putting in my own time and if I put everything else on hold then I won't be bringing in any money for the next week, he pointed out.

Aw, just suck it up and pay the man, I told her. To the watch repairer I said, Now you do understand that it is absolutely vital that you and no one else touch this watch without gloves on. Okay?

Yes, yes, I understand completely. He wagged his finger at me and then turned to the director, I've repaired many timepieces for the museum so I fully understand the importance of wearing gloves. So that won't be a problem. With that said he placed the watch in a cotton lined box and carefully closed the lid and headed out the door with a bit of a skip to his step.

~~~~~

Chapter 3

So we rushed down here for nothing. Thanks a lot Alma. I was a little ticked, okay, make that - a lot ticked.

Well, I didn't know it would be such a gem of a find. I also didn't figure the guy would want to take it right away before you could take hold of it. It's not my fault, she whined.

It's not a total loss, after all, there are these other things that she found. Natalie indicated the other items on the counter top.

That's right, so how about you grab something and start 'seeing.' How about the tin the watch was found in? She grabbed this old rectangular tin that was so rusted that the original artwork had long worn off it.

I hesitated for a moment, still thinking of my record and then I sighed and took hold of the tin. There was a sudden roaring sound in my ears and the room spun around so fast that no forms or items could be distinguished from another; it was all just a blur of colors. The next thing I know I'm bumping along in a covered wagon on a very cold, windy and dusty day. I could feel all the fillings in my teeth shaking and feared they would fall out. Boy, there was certainly something to be said for cars and asphalt roadways.

There were some children crammed into the back of the wagon, mainly girls. I looked out the back of the wagon and saw some boys following the wagon on foot. It wasn't too hard for them to keep up with the wagon. Actually, I figured the boys could probably outstrip the wagon if they had the desire to do so. Mainly, what they were doing was keeping their heads down and their coats pulled tight around them. The wind was freezing and from the looks of the sky I would say that it was probably in late November or December. It was definitely winter time though. It was in the plains area or to be more exact, it was around the Caprock where there were small valleys and trenches zig zagging through the land. Where it didn't have a valley it was flat and there were no trees in sight. I noticed a part of a newspaper used to wrap something delicate to keep it safe. The date on the newspaper was December 18, 1919. So it was either that day or someday shortly after that.

One girl asked another, Just where is Hedley?

It's in Texas. It will be more centrally located for Papa when he rides the circuit to preach, another girl answered.

One toddler was crying and making a fuss. From the front of the wagon a woman, rather plump and wearing glasses with wavy hair pulled back into a bun, leaned into the back of the wagon and said, Nezzy, see if you can try and calm Letha down somehow. I swear that child will cry from here all the way to Texas if we don't do something about it.

A girl, who was sitting nearest the toddler nodded and said, Yes, Mama. She looked to be about nine years old. She grabbed a tin sitting on top of a Bible, which proved to be a cracker tin and began shaking it where it made a rattling noise. The toddler with her pudgy hands tried to grab the tin and so the other girl let her have it. The toddler shook the tin up and down making a loud clattering.

Suddenly the wagon jolted and stopped. It had gotten struck in a rut that was obviously deeper than all the other ruts they been going through, which was saying a lot. The girls got down from the wagon, except for the toddler; they left her to play with the tin. The boys joined their father at the front and side of the wagon and started to rock the wagon back and forth to get it out of the rut. They didn't seem to be having any luck so the mother and daughters all got in on it too. Within a short time they had finally managed to get the wagon out of the rut and moving again.

No one had looked back, but instead just went forward toward their destination. So no one, except for me and the toddler knew that she had thrown the tin out of the back of the wagon. She clapped and laughed at the sound of it rattling and clanging as it bounced on the ground and ruts. The dust seemed to twist and wind its way around the tin and then, before anyone knew it, it was gone in the distance.

There was a sudden blurring of the surroundings again and I was back in Alma's shop. She and Natalie were looking expectantly at me. I sighed and told them about the tin and the wagon trip.

Wow, 1919, that is old, though not as old as the pocket watch apparently is. So you said it was a cracker tin. Did you happen to see the name and design? Alma asked. She was writing everything down in a notebook as I told her the story.

No, the children had their hands on it and were shaking it up and down. So it was all blurry and I couldn't make out too much. But I definitely saw the word 'cracker' on it though.

I guess that will have to do, for now. Do you want to try again with the tin to see if you can see anything else? Natalie asked.

It usually took a couple of readings for me to get all the memories from an item. Though I had to admit I have never touched anything as old as the pocket watch. So who knows how many times I would have to touch it to get the whole story behind it.

I took the tin in hand again and… nothing. That was the only lasting memory attached to that particular tin. I shrugged and handed it back to her. She shoved the other items towards me and I picked each one up to get a reading.

In the end we had horseshoes thrown by the horses during a wagon trek, this was not uncommon: wagon wheels broken from the roughness of the trail and various bottles scattered and tossed after use. Nothing else seemed to be connected to the same family that the tin and watch were but instead to various families moving across the terrain.

By the time I had finished my readings I was tired and ready to go home. I realized just how long and arduous a journey it was to make in a covered wagon across the Caprock and Plains. I'm glad I'm alive now. I don't think I could have survived it. When I told Natalie this on the way back to the museum to get my car she pointed out, "You would have survived whatever you had to if you had lived back then. You didn't know how things were gonna be and so you just lived with what you had to live with. You didn't know anything else. That was your life, period, end