The Whispering Oaks

(This is a work of pure fiction. No one in this story is meant to depict any person living or dead. My work is not to be plagiarized, and no part may be reused without my express permission. This story is available to read, for free, with the author’s expressed consent on Inkitt ONLY. If you are reading this elsewhere, the content has been stolen, and you are risking your internet security. Read safely and benefit the author, J.G. Bock, by reading from a legitimate source. Thank you.)

 Many special thanks to Lauren S. Cowan for the magnificent cover art.

©2024, J.G. Bock, all rights reserved

(This is a tale of two men separated by 140 years, yet their lives somehow mirror each other. Two men living in different eras kept them from meeting, but their souls crossed the arc of time to meet and attempt mutual redemption. Redemption from the ugly and bitter lives they once endured. Their only solace in life is the love of strong women. Powerful women with deep, enduring passions for the men they love.

Our story opens on the bleeding edge of Western civilization in 1841. It was a harsh and brutal existence. People held different values and often clashed or bonded together for survival.

Our story will then jump forward to a more modern and civilized age. So it seems, maybe it is not as civilized as we like to think. Human nature, perhaps, for some souls, is still guided by greed, evil minds, and desperate passions. Despite the outward appearance of polite gentility.

Come now, as we read the adventure of The Whispering Oaks and the hunt for a cursed treasure of blood-soaked gold.)

VELASCO MEETS HIS END

If fate means you to lose, give him a good fight anyhow.

William McFee

The three mounted figures moved slowly across the shining landscape. The horses walked slowly; their heads dropped low. They were weary from miles of travel without stopping. The sun bore down like hot wax, there was no escape from the unrelenting heat.

Occasionally, a random puff of hot wind and brief shade of an oak tree provided some relief. The massive oaks burst up from the grassy fields they passed through. The lead rider was called Velasco. He was a large man with a sweat-stained sombrero. He looked ahead into the distance and spotted a large group of trees stretched in a long line.

“There is the spring!” he said loudly over his shoulder.

Even speaking loudly seemed to take more effort than he wanted to expend. His shirt and pants were saturated with sweat, and the top of his feet seemed to be on fire. He touched his chest and felt the silver Real that hung from his neck.

He had it since the day of his first battle, many years ago now. Since the day it came into his possession, he had come through many battles and gunfights without a scratch. He briefly recalled the day a cannonball swept through the ranks of men he was standing with. The sizzling ball took off the heads of the two men to his right with a ripping hiss. If he had been standing in perfect formation, his head would have been removed also.

He was thrown roughly onto his back. As he opened his eyes, the coin fell from the sky. It flickered in the bright sunshine and landed on his chest. Where it came from, he did not know. He grabbed the coin and held it tight. His fellow soldiers must have thought he was dead because they walked around him and moved forward.

Forward to the walls of the Alamo and their doom. He never saw any of them alive again. He remembered getting up and looking for his musket, but it was bent in half. He grabbed another and walked forward with the next rank. The coin was in his pocket.

He lived through that battle. He was captured and paroled after the Battle of San Jacinto. Velasco was never injured in any of the battles between the Alamo and San Jacinto.

After he was paroled, he turned to banditry to survive. Velasco was good at stealing, robbing, and staying out of the hangman’s noose. Now, he had enough money to get away from his past and live like a man instead of living like an evil bandit.

The second rider, Suarez, wiped his face with a dirty kerchief and shifted in his saddle. “We must rest the horses soon. They are almost spent! I wish we knew what was beyond the spring. If only Cos had not killed the old man, we might know.”

Suarez was not opposed to killing if the killing was necessary to live. He had taken several lives fighting for Santa Anna. That was war, and he was a soldier then. It was where he met Velasco. Now he was a bandit and had no problem taking another man’s gold or whatever else he wanted. He tried to be polite about it. It was mean enough to steal a man’s gold.

Cos killed people because he liked it. Cos was a short, round man with pig-like features and an evil look in his eyes. He wore his gray slouch hat low over his face. Like the others, he was saturated with sweat. It made the thin cotton shirt he wore stick to his round body. Sweat made the thin cotton shirt transparent.

“He had a knife in his boot and was about to stick you in the belly, you son of a bitch! I saved your life!” Cos spat sharply at Suarez.

Suarez pulled his pistol and at the same time spun his horse to give him a free aim. He did not cock the pistol, but his thumb was on the hammer. “Call me that again and I will blow your tiny brain all over this meadow!”

Cos pulled up sharply and placed his hand on his pistol. “I am sorry, Suarez, it is this heat, it is making me act like a crazy man.”

“You are a crazy man, Cos. There was no reason to kill that old man. I knew he had the knife and was ready to take it from him.” Suarez returned his pistol to its scabbard. “My Momma was a saint, never call me that again. Do you hear me?”

Velasco turned his horse around and watched the drama play out between the two bandits. “You both sound like cackling old women. It is too hot to play these games. He said he was sorry, let us ride to the trees and cool off.”

Velasco took off his hat and wiped his forehead with his sleeve. His long, raven black hair was plastered to his head and dripping with sweat. “From now on, Cos, you will not kill anyone unless I say it’s time, and you will not molest any women at all. If we are lucky, we will make it to Baton Rouge with our treasure. We have enough to live the rest of our lives in peace. We must be very careful to avoid any trouble from now on.” He placed his hat back on his head and shifted in his saddle. Looking directly at Cos, he continued, “If you cause any more trouble, I, Velasco, will blow your tiny brain out.” With that said, he turned and started back toward the long line of trees.

Sweat dripped on Velasco’s hands as he leaned forward in the saddle to relieve the aching in his thighs. The mare he was riding moved slowly down the narrow trail in the oak grove. Velasco urged her on into the shade of the trees. He needed to get out of the sun and off the saddle.

His companions followed slowly. Cos was pulling a massive mule along with him. The mule was overloaded with bundles on both sides of the pack frame, stuffed full. Their horses, too, were loaded with heavy packs. As Velasco moved deeper into the shade, his horse pricked up its ears and inhaled deeply, looking to the left. Velasco inhaled and smelled it also, water.

It was a pungent smell of mud and rot, “It must be the spring the old man said was here.”

He let the mare take the lead, and soon he was looking at a mass of low brush between two massive oaks. A strong breeze caused the tops of the oaks to wave and sigh.

“Here it is, my friends. Fresh water and a cool breeze!” Velasco shouted over his shoulder.

Cos spat on the ground and slid from his saddle. “This is a mud hole. Where is the clear water the old man promised?”

Velasco stared at the thick brush, “We need to clear away this brush and see, always with you it is a thing of woe, let us look!”

Cos slid slowly out of the saddle. “I am so tired and hot; I cannot help.” Cos leaned forward and grabbed his knees to try and catch his breath.

The mule smelled the water too and bolted forward, parting the thin lead attached to Cos’s saddle horn. The mule went into the thicket. Crashing through it began to kick and buck all around, flinging some of the packs free to land heavily on the muddy ground.

The three men watched in surprise as the mule proceeded to smash down a large section of the thicket to reveal a small pool of muddy water and a low rocky outcrop. Velasco ran forward, grabbed the lead, and yanked with all his might to control the panicked mule.

“Help me, you fools! Quickly, before this beast destroys the water hole!”

It took all three men to calm the mule and get it to drink. The horses ran a short distance away. They returned as soon as the mule was calm and tied up securely. The sweating horses were too thirsty to go far. The three men worked at clearing the brush, and soon the animals were watered and hobbled close to the oak grove.

Soon, the horses were happily grazing on the sweet grass. Velasco used his hands and a horseshoe hammer to clear some loose rocks from the spring’s source on the limestone outcropping. His efforts caused clear water to flow faster, making it easier to access.

Cos started a small fire to cook some beans. A fire small enough to avoid a large smoke plume. Suarez had walked to the top of the rise above the spring to ensure there were no other people in sight.

As he walked into the camp, he announced, “This is a good place to rest for a time; there are no homes or cattle in sight.”

Cos stirred the beans, “It is a good place to starve, all we have is these beans, no meat or tequila! Bah! We should move on in the morning.”

Velasco squatted next to the small fire and looked at the beans as they began to boil. “Cos, always complaining. We have water, and I will get us some meat. There will be rabbits or deer around; this is the only water for miles. Besides, if we had tequila, you would want a woman to rub your…ugly head.”

Suarez laughed, “I will go along. You are a good bandit, Velasco, but a poor hunter.”

Velasco laughed also and went to get his rifle. “You are a better shot, Suarez. You carry the long gun.”

Suarez held the Kentucky long gun and admired it as he had many times before. “Such a fine rifle. The man you stole it from had it made just right. It is so accurate. With this fine gun, I will get us meat tonight!”

Cos stirred the beans, “When I am eating, I will be believing. Go on with you two mighty hunters. Don’t get eaten by the coyotes.”

Velasco smiled and stood to leave, “We go east toward the big river, Suarez?”

“Yes, let us go. Those beans are not looking any better, and Cos smells like a dead skunk.”

“You think you two smell any better? It is no wonder the mule went crazy!”

Velasco and Suarez left and began to walk along the game trail. As they walked, they began to talk quietly about their next and last raid.

“This Tavern the old man talked about should be a good place to gather supplies,” Velasco said quietly as they walked.

“Yes, slip in, buy what we need, and move on. I am tired of running and living like an animal. It is time to buy some land and live like men. Maybe find a fine, plump daughter of a rich man. This would be good.” As he said this, Suarez squatted down quickly and nodded toward a small thicket. He whispered slowly, “Rabbit.” And pointed.

Picking up a fist-sized rock, Velasco chucked it hard at the rabbit and killed it.

“How do you do that?” Suarez said in amazement.

“We had no rifles when I grew up. It was a rock or an empty hunger. I learned to throw because I liked to eat.” Velasco smiled, “Besides, we need not waste shot and powder on a little bunny.

Velasco and Suarez walked over and collected the rabbit. They walked on in silence for some time. Then Suarez stopped, cocked the long gun, and shouldered it. He spread his stance and began taking deep breaths, and then stopped breathing. The long gun barked, and a small deer dropped dead at the edge of the far tree line.

“Very fine shooting, my friend! We feast tonight!”