Unwitting Commitment

By Michael McLemore

Throughout time, many individuals have been convinced they possess unique abilities not afforded to most of the population. Even as a young child, William Gardner knew he could communicate with the dead and he now believed he could cheat death by remaining on Earth after his own demise.
While still in middle school, William forms a strong bond with three classmates. At an end of school year gathering, he convinces the friends to joining him in a "blood oath" to "be together for ever-even after death." William spends the next three years developing his "gift".
During his senior year, William formulates a plan to enact the ultimate test of his unique ability. A post-graduation trip with his friends provides the perfect opportunity to determine if death can indeed be cheated.

• Language: English
• Publisher: BookBaby
• Release date: Feb 12, 2024
• ISBN: 9798350939828

Book preview

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Unwitting Commitment

Michael McLemore

ISBN (Print Edition): 979-8-35093-981-1

ISBN (eBook Edition): 979-8-35093-982-8

© 2024. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

Contents

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 1

(10/15/22)

Standing beside her 1971 Chevrolet truck, Joyce Reynolds patiently waited in the student pick-up lane for her daughter’s afternoon dismissal from school. To an unknowing or casual observer, Joyce could easily be mistaken as the wife of a hardworking farmer or a blue-collar worker. She was most often seen in and around town in well-worn blue jeans, work shoes, and a plaid shirt, and today was no exception to her usual attire. The truck was over fifty years old but performed better than when new. A novice in automobile collectability would probably not realize that every mechanical and electrical component had been replaced by modern equipment and the vehicle now could outperform the latest offerings from Detroit. The old Chevy was her favorite everyday mode of transportation, partly because it had been purchased new by her father in 1971 and because of its functionality in meeting the needs of the Singletree Farms. Even though the truck was the usual means of day-to-day transportation for Joyce, the people in the community usually saw her husband in his Mercedes and most also knew that her alternative mode of transportation was a sport model BMW or a Ninja motorcycle.

There was only a week remaining in school before the summer break, and because of her excellent grades, Samantha Reynolds was exempt from taking final exams, thus allowing her the option of not reporting to school for the first three days the following week. On most days, Samantha rode the bus to and from school, but Joyce seized this opportunity to have some quality mother–daughter time with her only child during the break from classes. Joyce had often heard accounts of teenage rebellion from a number of parents with children the same age as Samantha and felt fortunate that she had never endured the long bouts of rebellion experienced by many parents. Even though it was an overused cliché, Joyce considered Samantha a friend and the two truly enjoyed being together. Joyce was proud of Samantha’s successes but was careful to not live through her daughter and never brought up her achievements to others. She was always aware of Samantha’s need to be with her peer group and made sure to never infringe on the teen’s social activities. The fact they shared many common interests helped strengthen their bond and, even though they had not made any concrete plans for the three-day break, both enjoyed spontaneous activities, and finding something to fill the time would not require a lot of thought.

When meeting Joyce for the first time, most could not help but be impressed by her natural beauty and gracious demeanor. It was obvious that she spent a great deal of time outside. Her tanned face and sun-streaked hair accentuated her athletic build. Whether in jeans or formal attire, she always attracted the attention of the men and their wives. Because she never flaunted her beauty or her financial success, Joyce had numerous friends from every social level. The respect and trust Joyce had earned from the community was best demonstrated when she was elected while in her early twenties to two terms on the Bryson City Commission. Samantha was every bit as attractive as her mother and probably destined to break the hearts of many young suitors in the near future. Sam also inherited the quality of humility that her mother possessed, and her work ethic would no doubt ensure her future success.

The dismissal bell rang promptly at 3:00 and the three-hundred-plus sixth through eighth graders of the Tesla Math-Science Magnet School departed through the various exits of the building. Samantha, accompanied by several friends, left the school building through the main entrance and immediately saw the truck parked alongside the curb. Seeing that Sam had spotted the truck, Joyce climbed into the cab, started the engine and waited for Sam to walk the twenty yards to where she was waiting. Never one to be idle for even a short time, Joyce turned on the truck’s CD player and continued to listen to a book on tape. The group of teens seemed excited, and Joyce had no doubt that most of Samantha’s friends had also been exempted from their final exams. She could hear them exchange the usual pleasantries: Call me, See ya later, Bye Girl, etc. What she hadn’t noticed at first glance was that Samantha was walking toward the parked truck hand in hand with William Gardner. Upon seeing the two, she thought to herself, Three hundred students in the school and she chooses to hold hands with the most unsavory character in the damn school.

When the two got to the truck, Sam reintroduced William to her mother, Mom, you remember William. You met him at our honor’s program.

Joyce did not really know William but based her dislike on what others in the community had said. Making no attempt to hide her disdain, she responded in a curt manner, Yes, I remember him.

Sam continued, William’s uncle cannot pick him up until later, so I told him we could give him a ride home.

The last thing Joyce wanted was to haul his ass around, Sam I have a lot of errands to run; I just don’t have the time.

The mother’s hostility did not go unnoticed by William, but he was most adept at hiding what he was really thinking. I’m sorry, Missus Reynolds. I shouldn’t have accepted when Samantha offered. His response caused Joyce to feel a little pang of guilt and she sensed Samantha’s dismay over the refusal to take her friend home.

I’m sorry, William, my errands can wait. We can take you home. William was pleased that his fake humility had once again manipulated someone in order to achieve his desired results.

Samantha climbed into the cab of the truck, followed by William. He immediately put his arm around Samantha’s shoulder, knowing that the gesture would really anger the protective mother.

Joyce, never one to hold back her feelings, looked at William. If you and I are to get along, there are a couple of things you need to understand. Sam is fourteen years old and she cannot date until she is at least seventeen. Her father and I don’t condone public displays of affection. You may be thrown together in certain situations, but you are not to consider her as your ‘girlfriend.’ Sam was embarrassed by the exchange, and William was totally satisfied that such a simple gesture had such a profound effect on the mother. As always, he reveled when he was in control of any given situation.

As the three pulled away from the school, Joyce tried to lighten the tenseness of the moment. How was your day?

Samantha, still confused over her mother’s actions, responded, It was great. Most of the teachers took up our books—we’ll clean our lockers next week. I still can’t believe I’m almost a high school student. Like most mothers, Joyce had mixed feelings about her only child entering the ninth grade. Technically, Samantha would continue at the same school facility, but other than lunch, the high school and middle school students had little contact during the day. Joyce had never been concerned with her daughter’s choices of friends but knew peers and classmates would gain more influence in the coming years, and the temptations to engage in potentially dangerous activities would be greater in the near future. This brief encounter with William only heightened her level of anxiety.

The three drove the short distance to William’s uncle’s house. As he exited the truck, he said with some sarcasm, which did not go unnoticed by Joyce, Thanks for taking time out of your busy schedule to give me a ride home. As they pulled away, William resisted throwing a rock at the precious truck and pledged to himself, That bitch is going to pay a price for this and she will never see it coming. He would like to have had a verbal confrontation with the mother but felt that would be counter-productive to his long-range goals. Even though he managed to suppress the urge to throw a stone through the driver’s open window, he instead threw a stone at a car parked along the curb.

After being dropped off, William returned to his room above his uncle’s garage. He was pleased with his ability to solicit such strong feelings from so-called adults. A simple statement would cause the bitch sleepless nights, and this was just a beginning. He reasoned, If she had just shown me the respect I deserve, I would not have to go to all this trouble. He decided this evening would be a good time for a walk, and Singletree Farms was only a few miles away.

Joyce pulled the truck back on to the highway and immediately knew her daughter was upset over the exchange. Samantha could not understand her mother’s reaction toward William. What was that all about? You have always been so gracious to all of my friends.

Joyce didn’t really want to go into it but felt some explanation was necessary. Sam, I have heard a lot about William, and most of it is bad. I really don’t want to go into details, but most of what I’ve heard was told to other parents by his uncle. All I can say is you need to stay away from him. If your own family has misgivings about your character, then there must be a problem.

Samantha didn’t care for the explanation but felt a rebuttal at this time was not appropriate. As was often the case, she was anxious to tell her mother of the day’s activities and conversations with her friends. Joyce cherished the openness the two shared. Despite what had just transpired, and against her better judgment, Samantha relayed a lunchtime discussion between her and William.

Samantha began, A lot of the time William comes over and has lunch with Elizabeth and me. Well, today he came over and started talking about Singletree Farms. For some reason he singled me out to verbally punish. I don’t know why—I guess I was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. He started out by telling me I was a child of privilege and no matter how hard I try, I will never be able to relate to the masses, and while others will always be nice to me, they will really hold me in contempt. He said that the only reason people are so nice and gracious to you and Dad is because they are just using you to get things they want. He said I will never really know who my true friends are. He said no one in my family had to work except my great-grandfather. Everything came easy—no worries. He said I would grow up just like you. All I have to do is make good grades and be socially popular. When I graduate I will go to some fancy private university and major in something useless, like humanities or psychology. When I finish college I’ll get a job at some nondescript business but will make more than others because of your and Dad’s position in the community. Everyone at the business will want to be on my good side and the executives will fix me up with their sons or grandsons, but they will really despise my privilege. I will finally marry one that is most geared for success, and I will spend the rest of my life living at Singletree Farms doing good works and riding horses.

Joyce was angered by the audacity of what she considered an immature, jealous ass, but tried to hide her true feelings toward William. Well, I guess he has you figured out and has dictated your future. Heaven forbid you become anything like me or your father—two rich slackers who live a life of over-indulgence, never once thinking of others. Perhaps you could become more like him—whatever that may be. It is true that I was born with the proverbial ‘silver spoon’ that came from my father’s hard work. Our finances have improved over the years, not because of luck but because of hard work and intelligence. Your father did have some pull when he first started working at the bank, but I assure you he did not gain his position by just showing up for work. While it is true that I inherited money, I have studied investments just as hard as anyone on Wall Street, and it has paid off. Your father and I have contributed a great deal to our community. We have given an inordinate amount of time and money to help improve the lives of others. I don’t recall William’s uncle working on a Habitat for Humanity house or feeding the homeless on Thanksgiving or contributing money to dozens of charities. William will never know the meaning of true friendship, and if he continues to berate you, I hope you will not become a friend. Samantha was surprised how defensive her mother had become. Having aired some of her pent-up rage, Joyce continued, I have known adults like William all my life. They try and belittle people in an effort to make themselves feel superior. If his strategy works, his prey will spend an inordinate amount of time trying to prove him wrong. When this happens, he has gained total control of your thought process. He said all this just to make you prove that he is wrong. In the scheme of things, he would love to be in your shoes. Even though she did not bring it up, Joyce wondered how William seemed to know so much about her and her family. Even though he had not been specific, he had a good handle on some generalities.

Well, what else did this soothsayer have to say?

Samantha continued, Mom, don’t think I put any stock in what he said. I just listened, and when he left, even Elizabeth said he was crazy. After he painted a bleak picture of my future he began telling me about Singletree Farms having a curse because of injustices that have occurred for centuries. He even said that any female who lives on the property was most likely to have a premature death.

The revelation of the old wives’ tale to her only daughter angered Joyce as she had never discussed what many in the community considered a fact. The protective mother tried to discount the rumor. He’s full of crap. There have been some premature deaths in our family, but they were not because of some made-up curse. It was common for people in rural America to die at an early age, and your great-grandmother died from a life of hard times and lack of medical care. She died giving birth, which was not uncommon during those times. The family just did not have the money to get proper medical treatment when her second child was being born breach. As I’ve told you before, your grandfather Mason lost his wife and daughter to a drunken truck driver and not to some imagined curse. These deaths were due to circumstances and choices made by others. The loss of these loved ones was tragic but was not caused by a curse. Everyone loves a good conspiracy and some of the old towns-people started this stupid story. Besides, look at you and me—we are both alive and well.

Joyce was trying to comfort her daughter, but her concerns increased. Not only did William give a fair account of her upbringing but he also knew the history of the land. The history of Singletree Farms was similar to that of almost any area in Central Georgia, but William had made it seem more sinister.

Sensing her mother’s defensive reaction, Samantha was not so easily convinced that there was not a curse. She could tell by the way her mother responded, she actually put some stock in the rumored curse. In the short period of time during lunch, William planted a seed that not only caused Samantha to doubt her value as a person but also caused her to think, because of past transgressions, she was possibly destined for an uncertain future and may face a premature death.

Were there any other words of wisdom that oracle William Gardner had for the masses?

Samantha knew her mother was upset, but she wanted to continue to relate the conversation. He said that he had always heard that because of the many tragedies in the area, the land was at ‘unrest’ and many people had experienced strange happenings on our property. He went on to say that because of his interest in such things, he has been looking into the rumors. He said he had spent many nights on our property in the cave at the back of the property.

Joyce bristled and immediately responded, That little S-O-B has been trespassing on our property. He has decided he can camp out in an area that our relatives have always considered sacred, and all this just to satisfy his own morbid curiosity. I should probably report this to the sheriff. The fact that William had chosen to encroach on their privacy only served to convince Joyce that her original distrust of the teen was accurate and well deserved.

Sam was not deterred and continued, He said that he could detect unrest. He told me that his mother was a Voodoo Princess and he had inherited the gift of being able to sense such things. He said our family cemetery and the cave were the areas of greatest unrest and he could detect the presence of lost souls. He told me to always be careful of lost souls and to never desecrate the land where they reside.

Joyce was enraged by the revelations of William, and the fact that he would suggest that her now dead relatives were somehow lost souls increased her contempt for the boy. She had heard the tales before and had even experienced unusual events, but she did not want to cause her daughter any undue concern. Joyce tried to dismiss the seed that had been planted. That ass. His mother may be a princess, but he is the court jester. He’s probably just watched too many horror movies. Our land does not have spirits roaming around during the night. Elizabeth is right when she said he is just crazy. You need to just ignore the ramblings of a confused mind.

Samantha agreed, I didn’t say I believed William; I just thought it was a good story. I’m certainly not afraid of some made-up spirit coming in the night.

Joyce tried to mask her anger as they continued the ride home. As the two headed east toward Bryson on Maple Street, she tried to lighten the mood. Do you want to stop at Gabe’s Drive-In for some ice cream? Not knowing why, she had always had a bad feeling about William, and this conversation had only heightened her level of anxiety.

No. Let’s go on home. We can get some later, Samantha responded, waving off the offer.

The downtown of Bryson was rather nondescript and, like many rural towns, many of the former merchant buildings now housed beauty shops, nail salons, pawn stores, and insurance offices. Most of the community longed for the good ole days when downtown Bryson was a vibrant commercial center for much of the surrounding area, but most shopping was now done at stores on the bypass or at nearby shopping malls. In spite of these facts, there remained an abundant of community pride.

Maple Street turned into Highway 37 at the city limits. The two drove another four miles and approached their home. A white fence lined the highway and marked the boundaries of the pristine property and extended for nearly one-half mile. The entrance to the property was marked by a 4 × 3–foot sign that was suspended by an old singletree and read:

Singletree Farms

Established 1938

Joyce and Charles Reynolds, Proprietors

Joyce turned to the right off the highway and began to follow the meandering gravel drive to the house. When the original structure was first built by her grandfather, the drive led directly to the house, but years later, Charles and Joyce had changed the layout so that family and visitors could take in some of the more notable features of the farm. The drive was lined with oak trees and abundance of foliage in between the trees. They drove over a small bridge, which crossed over Troublesome Creek. The drive then passed the horse stables, a particular point of pride for Joyce. The stables housed her horses and those of close friends. The facility was arguably one of the finest in Georgia and served as a testament to Joyce’s greatest passion. Just past the stables was the caretaker’s house. Walter Penny had worked as part-time and full-time caretaker for the property for almost twenty years. Walter served in the United States Air Force as a mechanic for fighter jets for twenty years. After retiring, he returned to his home in Bryson and was appointed director of maintenance for the school system. He was the first Black member of the Bryson Rotary Club and it was at the weekly meeting where he and Mason Lyons became close friends. As the friendship grew,Walter was hired part-time by Joyce’s father to help maintain the property. This arrangement worked well for Walter as the demands for Singletree Farms were minimal and did not detract him from his duties with the school system. As the farm grew, Walter’s duties expanded and the family became increasingly dependent on his skills. After he retired from the school system, Walter and his children moved out of his home in town to a house Joyce’s father had built on the property for the caretaker and his wife. Walter used the money from the sale of his house in town to buy a vacation home for his family in the north Georgia mountains. The practical experience and knowledge of all technical and mechanical matters gained from his previous jobs made Walter overqualified, but he found the caretaker work satisfying and enjoyable. The pay was just an added bonus. Joyce attributed any knowledge and mechanical skills she possessed relating to the management of the farm to the hours and days spent with Walter when she was still a young girl.

As the truck passed the house, Walter was in his usual position on the front porch, reading a book with an unlit cigar in his mouth. Because of this habit, whenever she had the opportunity, Joyce gave him a rebuke, Walter, you know those cigars are going to kill you. They don’t have to be lit to give you throat cancer.

His reply was always the same: Now, Miss Joyce, you know if I have one vice and many virtues, I must protect the one from the many.

Her retort was always the same: I think you have that wrong. You are protecting your one virtue from your many vices. I’m just not sure what that virtue is. Walter acknowledged Joyce and Samantha with a wave as they passed the house.

About one hundred yards closer to the main house, they passed the well-manicured pastureland. Joyce never tired of seeing several of the horses peacefully grazing on the abundance of Bermuda grass. The family cemetery lay a few hundred yards behind the house. Beyond the cemetery was a large lake fed by Troublesome Creek. The area behind the lake had been allowed to revert to nature by her grandfather out of respect for the Creek Indians, who once occupied the land centuries earlier, the countless slaves who had toiled and died on the land, and for the Confederate and Union troops, who had suffered and died after the Battle of Atlanta.

At a short distance from the main house, the drive made a fork. Veering to the left led to the front of the house, which was mainly used by visitors for special events. Going to the right led to the rear of the house with ample parking, terraces, the swimming pool, and a five-car garage. As she parked, Joyce asked Samantha, Do you want to go into town and get something to eat? Dad is going to be late, so we can have a girl’s night out.

Thanks, but Elizabeth and Sean are coming over later. They are going to pick up something for us to eat. You can join us if you like.

Joyce was flattered that Samantha would include her but begged off. I’ll just fix something light; you enjoy your friends.

Joyce enjoyed having Samantha’s friends visit the house, but on this night she was especially pleased that one name had been omitted from those coming. Try as she might, she could not put him out of her mind. Her disdain was based on intangibles, so she avoided telling Samantha of her true feelings and hoped her daughter’s good judgment would overcome her naive fascination.

As planned, Sean’s mother drove her son and his friend Elizabeth to Singletree promptly at 6:00 p.m. She stayed for a few minutes, visiting with Joyce. As she departed to return home, she said she would return at 10:00 to pick up Sean and Elizabeth. The three teens retired to the back patio and sat by the pool. Their conversation ran the gambit from going to high school in the fall to the latest school gossip.

Chapter 2

As planned, Claudia Raines arrived at Singletree Farms promptly at 10:00 p.m. to pick up her son and Elizabeth Parker. After the departure of her two friends, Samantha, tired from a busy day, retired to her room. Even though Joyce was tired, she realized that sleep would elude her if she went to bed. On the one hand she was excited that the school year had ended for Samantha, but their conversation from earlier that day could not be ignored or forgotten. She tried to remind herself that she was an adult and the ramblings of a young teen should be of no concern. She just could not get over the fact that William had managed to manipulate her daughter, His discourse was now affecting her own mental state. For the first time in her life, Joyce was now feeling defensive over the way she had chosen to live.

Since it was a warm night and her husband, Charles, was working late, Joyce went to the kitchen, opened a bottle of her favorite wine, and filled her glass to the brim. She exited to the patio and assumed a comfortable position on a lounge chair next to the pool. As she sat, one nagging question continued to plague her thoughts: How does that little bastard seem to know so much about my family and the history of Singletree, and why has he gone to so much trouble to convince Sam that we are spoiled and lazy? Other than the fact that she had formed an instant dislike for William, all she really knew about him was that he had moved to Bryson a couple of years earlier and now lived with an uncle. Initially she had tried to keep an open mind, but the rumor mill ran rampant.

There was no place that Joyce enjoyed more than Singletree Farms, and she considered the property a link to the past generation of her family as well as a stabilizing force to keep the future well grounded. She wanted Sam to share her love for the farm, but if her daughter chose to not live on the property in the future, that was an acceptable and viable alternative. Three generations of Joyce’s family had inhabited the property and each had taken great pride in the farm, but none more than Joyce. She considered the care and management of the land and surrounding structures somewhat of a sacred duty and was always diligent in meeting these responsibilities. Of all the farm’s assets, she was most proud of the original Depression-era farmhouse built by her grandfather and grandmother. She was bothered that William discounted their hard work and sacrifice and was angered that he considered the home an unnecessary extravagance. She doubted he could ever understand the sacrifices her grandparents had made. She reasoned the obnoxious teen lacked positive influences in his life and family was unimportant. The wine had not helped shake the feeling that perhaps others felt the same, but the cool night air helped the proud mother relax as she began to focus her attention on Sam.

The home and surrounding land of Singletree Farms had been in the family for over eighty years, and as the only surviving member of the Arthur Lyons’ family, Joyce was determined to ensure the property reflected the hard work and dedication of her late grandfather and father. She knew her family’s success had not come overnight and was not easily obtained. What had started as a simple farmhouse built during the last years of the Depression had evolved into a home that was now a showplace to be shared with others. The original two-story white clapboard structure had undergone numerous expansions, upgrades, and renovations over the years. All the improvements provided a quaint ambiance from the past, coupled with modern conveniences. In an effort to share what she considered a gift, Joyce allowed the house and grounds to be used for events as diverse as corporate meetings, wedding receptions, and children’s birthday parties by members of the community. Joyce was proud that on several occasions, the home and gardens were featured in regional and national home publications. She considered the recognition a tribute to be enjoyed by the entire community.

Located two hundred yards off the Jackson Highway, the house and property now offered all the amenities the Reynolds needed to accommodate their lifestyle. A long crush and run gravel drive lined with dogwood and magnolia trees welcomed visitors. The manicured grounds and rolling hills of the Piedmont provided a setting nothing short of spectacular. Located in Central Georgia and within two miles from the city limits of Bryson, the Reynolds family had what they considered the best of all worlds. The locale provided the quiet seclusion and privacy of rural living yet offered the convenience of easy access to shopping, entertainment, and recreation for the whole family. All the amenities of Atlanta were an easy drive along Interstate 75, and major shopping centers were less than a thirty-five-minute drive.

Bryson was like many Southern towns. The once thriving textile mills had departed to foreign countries several decades earlier. Charles Reynolds had been instrumental in attracting several Japanese companies to locate in the county, and the influx of new businesses was beginning to breathe new life into the community, but many old traditions continued. The old-timers continued to hold on to the local customs of the community with a vengeance and, because growth was slower than in many metropolitan areas, there was no conflict as new residents moved into the area. No one was really from Bryon unless they were at least a second generation and preferably a third-generation resident. Political discussions, particularly those focused on the local level, were a major source of activity, and the influx of Republicans into the traditionally Democratic territory created some bitter campaigns.

After the departure of Sam’s friends, Joyce continued to mentally cuss William. The audacity for him to think the success of my family came easily. He has no idea. Her grandfather, Arthur Lyons, purchased the four hundred acres of land at a foreclosure sale in 1939 for $2000. These were some of the hardest times in American history, but the man was motivated and willing to take a chance. The second-generation Irish immigrant worked tirelessly for other farmers in the area and through frugal living was able to save enough money for his purchase. What he lacked in formal education, he made up with practical experience and determination. At the time of purchase, the land still suffered from over one hundred and fifty years of poor cotton-farming practices, but through his tireless efforts, Arthur was able to breathe new life into the once barren soil. Timber and cattle farming became his primary source of income. He converted one hundred acres into grazing land for cattle and planted the remaining acres in pine trees. Both proved to be profitable. The land purchase was long before the land boom and population explosion of Atlanta in the late 1960s, and the property was now valued at several million dollars.