Chapter 17

Alan’s turn:

“Okay, none of MY business, Alan Dean,” Elise said, “but what do you mean, others?”

“You didn’t look in the bag?” I told her there was a canvas bag in the same cubbyhole as the envelope with the paper money.

“Well, no ... It was under the envelope. Figured it was none of my business.”

“I admire your self-restraint.”

“So what’s in it? Doubloons?” she smirked.

“Close,” I said. “Where’s the key?”

“Back in your whacky-assed cannon,” Elise retorted.

“Lemme go get it,” I said.

I led a parade. Opened the fake electrical panel door, unlocked the door behind it, reached down inside, tugged up a HEAVY canvas bag. Then another.

“Let’s take these inside.”

Parade back into the house. Tina’s got a knowing smile, serene. I’d TOLD her.

“I need a towel out of the bathroom,” I said. Terri bounced off and returned.

“Spread it out on the table.” She did.

I dumped the first bag. Little round plastic cylinders full of coins.

“That’s money, Dad,” Terri said.

“Bingo,” I replied. “Old money. Silver. Dimes, quarters, half dollars. Why would I keep such a thing, Terri?”

“Intrinsic value,” she said. “What’s silver going for today, Dad?”

“It’s been bouncing between sixteen and seventeen bucks an ounce.” I watched my daughter’s face. My ‘walked right through engineering math’ daughter’s face. A couple of minor gears turned.

“So, like, FIFTEEN times face value, for silver content?”

“Correct,” I said.

“How’s she DO that?” Joe asked. “And how much is there?”

“This bag? I think it’s two hundred and forty dollars face value. Call it thirty-six hundred dollars in silver.”

I dumped the other bag. More rolls. And a stack of little plastic holders with the distinctive glint of gold.

“Shit, Alan!” Elise squeaked.

“Leesie!” I chided. “Kids present. First time that Kathy says ‘shit’ I’ll know where it came from.”

You don’t mention Kathy’s name with her standing on a chair by her mom and dad.

“S’it. Aun’ Leese.”

“Kathy!” Tina gasped. “Don’t SAY that. Bad word.”

Sense of humor in a toddler. The eyes explained it all.

“I’m sorry, Kathy-baby. Your Aunt Elise shouldn’t say bad words...” Elise back-pedalled.

“Wub Aun’ Leese,” Kathy said.

“Two hundred silver dollars,” I said. “Five one-ounce Krugerrands. Twenty tenth-ounce Krugerrands. We’ve been meaning to clean the stash out, but right now I’m glad we didn’t. The five thousand wouldn’t’ve been there when YOU needed.”

“Dad? Why?” Terri asked.

“Conversation for later,” I said.

Joe’s looking at me oddly. “Dude, you had twenty thousand dollars stashed in this house and you weren’t here?”

“I knew about it. Tina knew about it. You’d’ve had to tear the house down to find it, otherwise.”

“Or a fire...”

“You have to pay really close attention, Joe. You didn’t notice the wall’s thicker there, did you?”

“No. Guess not.”

“Insulation. High-temperature stuff. You could’ve burned this house down TWICE around it and not damaged the paper money. Now, if you really wanna see something...”

“You have my attention,” he said.

“Mine too,” Elise mirrored.

“Let’s go back in the garage, then.”

Parade back out the door.

“Help me clear this shelving unit off.”

Joe and I moved a bunch of the standard things one finds on a garage shelf. Paint. Lubricants, couple of boxes of odds and ends.

“Let’s pull this out of the way.”

We moved the shelf. I picked up a powered screwdriver and started pulling screws that were holding a plywood panel. Finishing, I got a pry bar.

“This’ll swing,” I said, and I pried the edge of the panel I’d just unfastened.

“You really ARE nuts, brud,” Elise said. “What’s all THIS?”

“Coupla cheapo AR-15s. Few magazines. Couple of thousand rounds of ammo... 22 rifle. More ammo. Old shotgun. More ammo.”

“And this is stuff you just stuck in the wall and ignored?”

“He’s got the same toys back in Alabama,” Tina said.

“Yessir, Uncle Joe. I’ve shot ‘em,” Terri said brightly. “It’s fun. I’m actually pretty good, too.”

“Any other surprises?” Elise asked.

“Well, there’s the emergency food supply in the pantry...”

“THAT I sort of understand, although – how much?”

“Family of eight for six months,” I said. “Wouldn’t be GREAT food, but it’s better’n nothing...”

“You’re one of those survivalists...” Joe said.

“I could take offense at the tone, Joe. I had the money to do this. Didn’t deprive a soul of a thing, and with hurricanes around here, being ready’s a good idea ... You remember evacuating your family, right?”

“Oh, yeah. But when we came back...”

“I just wanted to make sure that if something happened, I was prepared to take care of ... Well, YOU guys, at the time. Now I’ve got Terri and Tina and Kathy, but at the time, it was to take care of my immediate family, which includes you and Elise and the girls.”

“Well, it’s kinda nuts...”

“Look, when the divorce was final, all I had to do was make sure Terri had everything she needed, and I fixed this place up in between projects. This is the result.” I looked at Tina. “What was I supposed to do? Chase women? Look what I caught without trying.”

She popped me on the arm.

“Indeed.”

“I think he did good,” Terri said. “Can’t imagine better.”

We went back into the house, stopped at the table. Tina picked up one of the one-ounce gold rounds. “Pretty.”

“And gold,” I said. “Not the best investment...”

“We GOT investments,” Tina said. “But it’s all on paper...”

“Yeah, Dad...” from Terri, who’s got seven figures spread over several different financial tropes. “Is that why we built that thing in our new house?”

That ‘thing’ was a floor safe. When we get back to Alabama, this pile’s going in it.

The next thing on the agenda was roughing out our plans for the financial operations of my sister and her husband.

“Guys, don’t think you’d hurt my feelings if you DON’T want to buy this house. Seriously, stay here for as long as you want. Go find another house ... But I’m – we’re – not trying to make a profit here. You get a lot of house for your dollar.”

“You don’t have to answer right now, guys,” Tina said softly. “Take your time. We’re in no hurry.”

When we left, heading to our hotel for the night, there was me, driving, Tina beside me, and Terri and Kathy in the back seat of the SUV we rented.

“Dad,” Terri said, “I got questions about some of the things I found out about you this evening.”

“About what?”

“Being prepared like that.”

“It’s not a special thing, baby,” I said. “We have to think past the ends of our noses.”

“I want you and me and Tina and Jerry to talk about this. I don’t think Jerry’s thought about it.”

“Did YOU think about it?” Tina asked. “I think that if Terri thinks about something Jerry thinks about the same thing...”

“Yeah,” Terri said, her voice taking a wistful tone. “We talk. I guess the subject never came up, though...”

“It’s just PART of life, baby,” I said. “Having cash on hand – part of finances. Same thing with having a bit of hard money. Not your WHOLE savings, just a piece. Kind of like having a fire extinguisher. That extinguisher’s not part of your décor. It’s not gonna make you money. Not gonna impress people. But if you ever NEED it...”

“By the way, sweetie,” Tina said, “we’re chasing Mandy and Cindy and Dan 1.0 back to Alabama tomorrow afternoon.”

“Huh?”

“Cindy’s delivering that Cessna 152 in the morning. Well, she’ll be here around noonish. Drop it off here at Dukes Field...”

“I like it,” I said. “Dukes Field. Has gravitas.”

“Gonna be a neat place. Saves the ramp fees at the other airport,” she said. “We’re still arguing about fuel.”

“Well, we’re a whole five miles from a big airport. Got both gas and jet juice.”

“Yeah,” she said. “But if we can knock a buck or two per gallon...”

“True.”

Cindy’s turn:

I can’t help it. I really LIKE having a teen sister.

“Your choice, Mandy. You can stay here with the rest of the Munchkins at the lab or you can come with me...”

“Where’re we going?”

“That little Cessna Wally’s had in his hangar?”

“Yeah. Said he was doing an annual inspection. Talked to me all about it.”

“Wally’s a good ‘un,” I said. “So anyway, that plane’s gotta end up in Louisiana at our new airfield tomorrow. I’m gonna fly it. Dan’s gonna follow us. We’ll drop it off, have lunch, then fly home.”

“Lemme make sure Mom and Dad are okay with it.”

“I like that, you know. They’re ‘Mom and Dad’ to you, just like that.”

“How should I be, sis? Can you begin to imagine what COULD have happened?”

“I know. Your life. My life. Stuff of fairy tales.”

So the next morning I’m walking Mandy around the little red and white plane. It’s two-thirds the size of our old 180, and it’s got tricycle gear instead of a tail-dragger, making it more like everybody else’s planes. Dan and I had the only tail-dragger.

Of course Stearmans are tail-draggers. But that’s another story, okay. We more or less promised Mister Dukes that the Stearman’s gonna live in southwest Louisiana, and just seeing the old guy’s face light up when he saw it, there’s no way I’m gonna go back on my word with him.

But we bought this little trainer. We had the radios upgraded and added an audio panel for intercom. Makes conversations a lot easier.

I’ve flown a lot of hours in a 152. We use ours here for instruction. However, Mandy’s still a bit apprehensive, so she’s in the right seat.

Dan takes off behind us. We form up in a loose pair in the air, and Dan pulls the throttle on the 180 back from its normal hundred and forty-five knot cruise to a sedate hundred knots, our cruise speed. Sixty-five hundred feet cruising altitude and not the least hint of autopilot.