The Rains of White Clay

By Carol Winters

Unrelenting rains reveal the contents of an centuries old burial mound. Three young boys, disobey their parents and adventure into the night to find the mound's secrets. A bigger mystery unfolds into a night they will never forget.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carol Winters
• Release date: Oct 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301444649

Carol Winters

Carol Winters is a retired English teacher who has written for newspapers for years. Currently, she authors a column called "Caroling Around Town" for the Daily Leader in Pontiac, IL. She has had her writing included in the Library of Congress and Associated Press.

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THE RAINS OF WHITE CLAY

BY CAROL WINTERS

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SMASHWORDS EDITION

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PUBLISHED BY:

Carol Winters on Smashwords

The Rains of White Clay

Copyright © 2012 Carol Winters

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.

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Chapter 1

Unrelenting thunderstorms were the topic of conversation everywhere in town in May of 1995. Normally, all the crops would have been planted by now, but the farmers were still waiting to get into their fields. While they waited, the farmers congregated at Shirley’s Restaurant to discuss the dismal prospect of a failed crop and to drink a two hour cup of coffee. No tip would be left. The neighbors hadn’t planted most of their gardens yet and flash floods were predicted for the next five days. Already, water filled the road ditches and spilled over the roads. In church, we were praying for the rains to stop and the yellow sign outside of Myers Gas Station said, Honk if you love sunshine.

Twenty years have passed and the rains have come again, but this time I live in Washington DC and work for a Senator from Illinois. I barely know when it is raining on the fourth floor in the aging but historic brick building where I work, but, I will never forget that soggy summer near White Clay, Illinois. I was 14 then and going to be a lowly freshman. I lived on a farm seven miles west of White Clay, a population of 10,000 people. One hundred years ago, the population was also 10,000. The town was the last bastion of small town living. A red brick Court House that looked stately and Disney-landish at the same time was guarded by a towering Civil War soldier looking fearless on a three tiered stone pedestal. Saturday night dances were held at the VFW for the veterans and their wives. A car dealership guarded the south edge of town and a John Deere dealership bordered the north side of town. The little town of White Clay was named for the unusual color of clay that the Cahokia Mound builders used to make effigy pots thousands of years ago. The mound builders were Woodland Indians, who lived on the spot where the town now sits.

Back then, I knew a lot about the Mounds. Every year in school we would learn about the Mound builders, but nobody noticed the Mounds much, even though they were everywhere. They looked just like big hills. There was the Cahokia Mounds Museum, but we never got to go there. Some guy who inherited the land had let the museum go to the dogs, and the teachers did not want him to be a role model for us.