Beneath Creek Waters

By Jason Bradshaw

Jason Bradshaw, brings the adventure to Texas! In 1845, 200 gold coins were minted to commemorate Texas’ entry into the United States. Slated to be given to all major players that helped Texas into the Union, the coins were loaded onto a wagon on a rainy night, near Dallas, Texas and never seen again. Over a century later, traces of the coins resurface, after a couple of kids stumble upon what appeared to be one, in a Southeast Texas creek. News of the find reach Parks Leslie and Stan Atcher, treasure hunters and historians, always looking for their next big find, and long-time seekers of these coins. Parks and Stan's interest proves to be an unexpected journey, tangled with blood history ties, new friendships and near-death experiences, calling for sacrifices no one could have predicted.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Smooth Sailing Press
• Release date: Sep 12, 2014
• ISBN: 9781618990464

Book preview

BENEATH

CREEK

WATERS

2014 Mystic Harbor Press,

an imprint of Smooth Sailing Press, LLC

www.smoothsailingpress.com

www.authorjasonlbradshaw.com

No part of this publication may be transmitted or reproduced in any form or by means, electronic, mechanical, photocopied, recorded or otherwise, without the written permission of Smooth Sailing Press.

Library of Congress Catalog Card Number (LLCN): 2009903103160

ISBN: 978-0-578-01793-8 (Print Copy)

ISBN: 978-1-61899-046-4 (eBook)

Publishers Note: Beneath Creek Waters is a work of fiction. Characters, names, places and incidents are either the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to an actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locations is entirely coincidental.

Cover art design by Scotty Roberts

First Printing: April 2009

1st Abridged version September 2014

For my grandparents

BENEATH

CREEK

WATERS

JASON L. BRADSHAW

CHAPTER ONE

What’s the hold-up Cameron? Max asked, I thought you said you knew exactly where those things were at?

Cameron stepped over an old trolling motor muttering something about how his dad had become a packrat. Dude, my dad used to cruise the beaches with them down in Galveston, but for all I know they could be trash by now. Never mind. Here they are behind the rest of this junk my pops refuses to throw away. Cameron struggled to free the old metal detectors and told Max, It looks like we’re definitely gonna need new batteries for these things. 

For the most part, Cameron and his best buddy Max had grown up together. They met each other in elementary school, immediately becoming close friends. The two always had, what they considered to be, great ideas brewing in their heads.

Max, like I said, my pops told me that this creek holds some historical relics. Legend has it some soldiers from the Civil War cruised through this area. Who knows what we might find down there?

Max laughed at the thought, "Yeah, I’m real sure we’re gonna find some buried treasure here in our little backwoods town with a couple of old beat up metal detectors. 

And, I know you’re gonna tell me where we’re gonna start looking, huh?  Well, go ahead, I’m waiting!"

Cameron grabbed a couple of rags from the pile and handed one to Max. They started wiping the grime off the old equipment.

Cameron shot Max a look that he’d seen many times before. It usually meant trouble. Yep, we’re gonna start at the last bridge on Caney Creek.

Come on Cameron, have you lost what little mind you have? If those redneck Campbells catch us messing around down there, they’ll surely bust us up, those guys are just looking for a reason to fight.

Cameron smiled. Those inbreeds couldn’t catch us if they tried. Besides, once we hit our neck of the woods, we’re gone man. Nobody knows those woods better than we do, just think about all the times we’ve disappeared out there!

The young men loaded the metal detectors into the back of the truck and drove straight to the local convenience store where they purchased new batteries. Standing at the rear of the truck in the store parking lot, the duo began pulling the old corroded batteries from the units. These old crusty things are never going to work, Cam. These batteries have been in here since Jesus was a child. They installed the new batteries and were somewhat surprised when the old pieces of equipment sprang to life. Even though it had been years, Cameron had learned to operate the metal detectors by watching his dad prepare them for a day searching the beach. After turning a couple knobs and pushing a few buttons, his memory of the settings came back. He managed to calibrate each one for the day’s adventure. Upon arrival at the site, both boys jumped out of the truck, grabbed their gear and headed toward the creek, while discussing the cool items Cameron’s dad had found in the past, and considering what they might find today. They crawled down the rusty old worn out bridge that led to the creek waters below. Due to discontinued development in the late seventies, the bridge had been abandoned for years and was no longer in use. It was a concrete structure erected with old steel pylons that were now, partially washed away.

Growing up, Cameron, Max and their buddies had played war, camped, fished and roamed these woods. They felt as if this area was a part of them. There were countless childhood memories on the creek involving homemade rafts, cane poles and good times.

Cameron had bought a kayak and, over the last year or so, had explored all the local waterways becoming familiar with the landmarks along their banks. Traveling along these creeks had really sparked his interest in the local town’s history. Here, Cameron found many old structures, shacks and other places that had once been inhabited, but were now long abandoned. Cameron made it a habit to pull his kayak ashore and search through the debris just to see what treasure he might find.

The creek was shallow most of the time, running two to four feet deep on average. There was generally good visibility unless there had been rain in recent days. About fifty feet wide in most areas, the creek bottom was a sandy loam with stretches of gravel rock. This area possessed abundant wildlife and small fish that Cameron and his friends would regularly catch on late summer afternoons.

Cameron trudged ahead of Max, eager to begin the search. Cameron, I still don’t think we should be messing around out here at this end of the creek. Bad stuff always seems to happen in these backwoods, Max said nervously. Don’t be such a wuss, Max, I’m sure your sister would’ve been happy to come out here with me, Cameron shot back.

Kiss off, Cam. Let’s just get these old junkers running, so you can find some old beer cans from our parties. Max wasn’t convinced that they were going to find anything of value.

Cameron shrugged and continued walking, ignoring Max’s sarcastic remark as always. He hoped they would find something that would capture Max’s interest.

As they reached the creek’s edge, Cameron was busy showing Max how to properly operate his metal detector.

From the bridge, the boys waded into the shallow waters heading south in the direction of some old pylons Cameron had spotted on one of his recent kayaking trips. He remembered them being three to four miles down from the bridge.

Time escaped as the two young men swung their old metal detectors from side to side in the shallow waters. They searched for several hours without finding anything of value while Max grew more impatient and uncomfortable. He kept looking over his shoulder and peering up into the woods. Come on, Cameron, let’s get outta here. My shoes are full of rocks and I’m hungry as hell. Besides, we’re lucky those rednecks haven’t come out of the woodwork yet and messed with us. We aren’t finding anything anyway and I am not even sure these things are working right.

Working correctly or not, Cameron was so thoroughly engrossed with the sounds of the metal detector that, he was barely listening to Max. Hang on, man. I’m getting something really strong here. I‘m not sure how to read this old thing, but it sure is making some crazy noises.

Max sat down on the creek bank and began digging rocks out of his shoe. Bull. You would stay out here for a week if you could.

I’m serious, Max. Come over here and check this out, help me dig this up. What the hell is this? Cameron and Max started digging on the muddy creek bank with their hands.

Bring on the bacon, Max exclaimed!

More like bring on the soup, Cameron said as he dug out a handful of sand containing a spoon, A damn spoon … and a new one at that!

Max had only so much patience for Cameron’s pipe dreams. Okay, that’s it. Now let’s go, Cam. I’m sure everybody will be impressed with your findings. Let’s get out of here, Indiana Jones. I’ll be sure to alert the newspaper for ya.

You’re right, Max. Let’s bail before it gets too dark.

The two boys started hiking back toward the bridge, with Cameron unaware he had left his metal detector on. So dude, what’s up with your sister? Cameron asked.

Cameron, I already told you ‘no way’. It would be too weird.

Yeah, I guess you’re… Before Cameron finished his sentence, his metal detector erupted in a series of loud beeps. Damn, that’s some strong reading. We must be over an old car rim or something that’s really shallow. Cameron was puzzled. Once again, the detector emitted a loud beeping noise. Cameron banged the top of it a few times and then checked it again. He then pitched the detector onto the bank and quickly began digging into the sandy bottom of the creek beneath about a foot of water. He grabbed something slimy and round, about two inches in diameter. I think I found something, Max!

Max leaned over him to get a look. What the hell is it? he asked.

Not expecting much, Cameron pulled out his pocket knife and scraped the scum from the heavy round disc, a brilliant gold sparkle caught both boys off guard. Neither of them was aware that they were holding their breath. Cameron scraped more sediment off his find, while trying to make out the large insignia. Holy shit, Max! This thing looks like it has some sort of star with a --

Max whispered in a monotone voice cutting his friend off mid-sentence, Shut up Cameron, we’ve got company!

Cameron dropped the coin and his knife into the shallow creek waters. He saw the Campbell brothers walking toward them with a club and a machete. They didn’t look happy about seeing the boys around the area.

CHAPTER TWO

Parks Leslie, now in his early thirties, had always been a history buff. His keen interest in the subject had helped him acquire a reputation as an adventurer and local treasure guru. Although, he hadn’t found the mother lode, Parks still managed to get funding from outside investors due to the small discoveries he had made. His reputation paved the way, and Parks’ investors believed that one day he’d find something that no one else could.

Parks stood five–foot-eleven, maintained his athletic build and had medium brown hair. He almost always wore khaki cargo shorts and his favorite T-shirt, as he was never one for dressing up. More often than not, he was sunburned and unshaven.

Parks grew up in a small town outside of Austin and had a fairly normal childhood, always together with the family for vacations, baseball games, numerous camping trips and other outdoor excursions. His father was an eighth grade history teacher, while his mother chose to stay at home to care for Parks and his little brother. Parks and his father made it a habit of taking day trips metal detecting, searching for old relics that his dad could take back to share with his class. It became their routine to rise before the sun nearly every Saturday morning and head out treasure hunting, as Parks’ mom always called it. In anticipation of the day ahead, Parks was always up before his father and would have the truck loaded and ready to go. By the time his dad climbed out of bed, Parks had everything packed and was patiently waiting for the excitement of the day to begin.  As he waited, he envisioned the treasures they might find, together.

Parks loved riding shotgun next to his father. Their conversations always focused on the search location, its history and what they might uncover. They would spend the entire day searching the ground with their metal detectors, digging shallow holes and laughing when they discovered old bottle tops or other worthless pieces of metal. But they always continued the search in hope of finding something worthwhile. Occasionally, Parks’ father uncovered an old piece of metal, and would explain what it was, the origin and history of the item. If his father didn’t know what the piece was, he encouraged Parks to figure out what it may have been. When the sun set low in the East Texas sky, Parks and his father would gather their belongings, return to the truck and head home, content that the day had given them both pleasure. Later in life, Parks would learn that sometimes the treasure wasn’t buried at all, but was in the hunt itself.

Parks always believed that he would grow up following in his father’s footsteps; pursuing