 
### Trip Jet

### ipam

Smashwords Edition Copyright 2020 Pamela Joan Barlow Smashwords Edition, License Notes This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
Author notes:

_Trip Jet_ **is the second book from the series...** _Country Gentlemen_ **....**

Format of this e-book does not contain a chapter heading, such like, Chapter One; Chapter Two; etc.

Instead, the story unfolds in a numeric calendar date format with current time, daylight or nighttime hours, a set of current weather conditions, and the property location with character activity.

I enjoy learning parts and pieces of an unread novel before diving into the contents.

The definition of the word, mother, varies by social, cultural and religious traits but translates into absolute love, hugs, kisses, affection, and care for each one of her biological and non-biological children.

A nice story about a country mom warms any heart including the mind and the soul of a new fascinating fictitious novel.

I have created my own personal book rating system for each one of my novels for the curious reader.

Rated G for good stuff

Rated PG for pretty good stuff

Rated M for mild stuff

Rated R for really great stuff

Rated V for vile stuff

Rated C for cute stuff

**The story line is** _Rated M_ **for mild acts of violence, lots of guns and knives, bold and nasty cuss words, witty and sick humor, a few dead bodies, but no ghosts or graphic sex acts.**

The major character role involves three biological brothers, who are triplet sibling. Each one attends their senior year in the local high school, before going off to college.

The story line takes place in the tiny rural town of Lacy Springs, within the U.S. State of Alabama, among heated days of summertime and lots of bright sunshine with occasionally thunderstorms that feed the crop farms, herds of captured livestock, and the numerous woodlands and wildlife and wildflowers.

Thanks for entering inside my imagination!

ipam
Story plot:

Teen action, adventure, and drama...

Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco, they are teen triplet brothers living in the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs, within the U.S. State of Alabama, where the sun shines bright in the summertime and then goes dull in the winter months.

Each brother loves their mama, attends their senior high school classes and has lots of fun doing numerous teenly male things, such like, sports, hunting, fishing, dating, and mudding.

Flamingo is born in the middle of three brothers and always exhibits a mellow, quiet, studious nature.

However, their teeny fun becomes interrupted, when Middle Child Flamingo is awarded the title of Outstanding High School Student of the Year, by the Alabama governor, which requires a massive amount of additional academic homework assignments that stirs up major brotherly trouble between the three triplet brothers inside the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs.
Adults:

Breck Freehurst Balegreen, Junior, deceased

(A.J) Adair Bibb, employee of Robert Earl

Arie Ashley Dunlap Balegreen wife of Breck, Junior

Aurora Carter Dunlap Gordon, sister of Arie and wife of Moe

Robert Earl Balegreen, granddaddy and scientist

Jarvis Dunlap, grandpa, Arie's dad and farmer

Reese Dunlap, housewife, grandma and Arie's mom

Iredell Balegreen, housewife, grandmother and Arie's mom-in-law

Tommy Lee Sinclair, sheriff

Teens:

Babbie Cummings, student

Breck Freehurst Balegreen, Junior, III, student

(Flamingo) Breck Freehurst Balegreen, Junior, IV, student

(Cinco) Breck Freehurst Balegreen, Junior, V, student

Brett Cooper, student

Doyle Tate, student

Fannie Tifton, student

Lacey Newton, student

Retta Jean Moore, student

Violet Meeks, student

Yancy Oakes, student
Present day and place and space and time

Tuesday September 16th

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunlight

Redstone Point location

Private office setting Robert Earl Balegreen, PhD

08:08 am

The office room measures huge at 40 feet long by 45 feet wide with a 10 feet high ceiling containing freshly painted beige-colored walls holding numerous geographical maps of various land masses displaying colorful red tinted dirt, blue colored bodies of water, and the black tinted outlined counties and green colored circular cities within the great State of Alabama. One side wall faces in a southern direction and features four sets of undivided clean glass windows showing off the overstory green leaves on rows of tall shade trees swaying in the slight breeze.

Cinco slams open the metal door towards the side wall. The knob doesn't smack the newly painted beige wall as the door wears a set of good hydraulics. Each hinge springs back with a metal ache from Cinco's powerful bicep thrust.

Cinco shakes his curls and moves deeply into the familiar private business office setting which lacks a heated upright or sitting human body. The expensive dark blue business suit on his grandfather stands upright at the far end of the long business hallway and as Robert Earl is knocking his bone skull with some of his professional workers.

The wide office door slowly closes shut in silence.

Cinco swiftly strolls towards _that_ tall object. His pair of eyeballs had seen _that_ object on Monday morning; but he couldn't do this, because his mother Arie was present.

Cinco measures in height at six feet and six inches. His ringlets of blonde colored curls cascade down and cover both of his earlobes and parts of his throat, bouncing across his broad shoulders. His hair parts perfectly down the middle on his skull exposing his naked forehead. He weighs 269 pounds on a medium-sized frame, featuring a heart-shaped face, a pair of pale blue eyes, a pair of two apple-shaped cheekbones, an aristocratic nose bridge, and a tone of bronze tinted skin.

The wide office door slams open again.

Flamingo enters the room and leans into the eardrum on his older brother Breck. They both whisper and waddle together like a pair of two lovey-dovey birdies.

Flamingo measures in height at six feet and six inches. His short blonde colored curls peek-a-boo over both of his ear points, where a smashed-down camouflage colored green, beige, and tan ass-baseball cap sits on top of his hairy skull. The baseball cap covers his entire forehead. He weighs 269 pounds on a medium-sized body frame, featuring a heart-shaped face, a pair of pale blue eyes, a set of two apple-shaped cheekbones, an aristocratic nose bridge, and a tone of bronze tinted skin.

Breck measures in height at six feet and six inches. His cropped blonde colored hair has a wavy part on the left side flowing across the forehead. He weighs 269 pounds on a medium-sized frame, featuring a heart-shaped face, a pair of pale blue eyes, a pair of two apple-shaped cheekbones, an aristocratic nose bridge, and a tone of bronze tinted skin.

Inside the office setting, the three teen males are three biological brothers and a set of identical triplets, who are named after their deceased father, Breck Freehurst Balegreen Junior, and are loved by their mother, Arie Dunlap Balegreen.

The first-born triplet arrived at 11:57 pm, on April 19th under the astrological sign of Aries, the ram.

The other two triplet brothers arrived at 12:02 am, and 12:05 am, respectfully, on April 20th under a different zodiac astrological sign of Taurus, the bull. Taurus-people enjoy tactile physical contact of tender and sensual body-touches along with a comfort zone of fake or real pleasing, soothing objects.

Where the child of Aries (aka Breck) loves the game, Taurus (aka Flamingo and Cinco) loves the rewards of the game, since Flamingo and Cinco share the same zodiac trait of physical pleasures and material goods in the exotic delicious excess.

The Bull zodiac symbol represents both bull-headedness and stubbornness, but each Taurus person is very happy plodding ahead towards the finish line for the numerous rewards of material possessions of flesh and steel.

Not only do the triplet brothers reside on the cusp of manhood, at the age of seventeen years old, but each one shares the _Cusp of Power_ on the same zodiac chart. A cusp, within the zodiac chart, is an individual end point, where two very different celestial personalities clash or combine or both experience acts that form a huge fireball, figuratively speaking, of course. The end point represents a range of specific calendar dates that coincide with the movements of the solar sun, which affects the person personality.

The Aries-Taurus cusp is called the _Cusp of Power_ that lies between the calendar dates of April 17th through April 22nd. The Aries-Taurus personality is authoritative and bold, making the cusp person a natural born leader. The person takes charges of any situation at work or at home or at a social event, when the two zodiac energies mix creating an impulsive Aries that lends energy and pushes forward towards each goal with a practical Taurus trait that takes care of all the details.

The Aries-Taurus cusp person rolls over the opinions and desires on other people and cannot stand watching any individual do a thing, since the Aries-Taurus cusp person knows the darn right way to do it much better.

However, the Aries-Taurus person has some good traits too. The person is funny, helpful, strong, and dependable, who will always shine and glow with their own powerful light.

Each triplet uses and abuses their Aries-Taurus personality.

Breck is the first-born leader among the triplet brothers and is responsible for his mother's welfare. He plans to attend college and then hopefully graduate law school rather than watching the legal activities from the sidelines as he assists in operating the Balegreen cow and farm ranch.

Flamingo is the first-born academic leader among his three brothers and his school peers, playing the star quarterback for Lacy Springs High School football team and closely follows each astrological celestial horoscope for his person, his family, and all strange teen girls while searching for the best compatible female to entertain his superficial inflated super-ego and bullish Taurus personality. He secretly waits for his princess bride, of course, after graduating with a medical degree from Birmingham University, which is also nicknamed as Burn U that is located within the city of Birmingham, Alabama.

Cinco is the first born badass among all the male teens within the small cow town of Lacy Springs with a pair of scuffed leather boots and a set of scarred fists, proving his wild Taurus bullish undefeated title, playing the superstar defensive tackle on the Lacy Springs High football team, since he likes to attack people, both verbally and physically. Except for his steady girlfriend Babbie, she is going to be his future bride, after she graduates from both high school and college.

Their mother Arie measures five feet and two inches of petite weighing one hundred pounds with more gray hair than blonde while trying to control her three mischievous teen son-of-a-guns on an hourly basis. She was born on October 8th under the zodiac sign of Libra.

A Libra focuses on others and how they relate in their pretty world, since they epitomize balance, harmony, and fair play. The zodiac sign is an image displaying a set of balanced scales. Arie is a balanced person in both justice and fairness wanting to do what's best for her boys, her ranch, and her family.

So far, middle-aged and single mother Arie has almost achieved her only dream and desire. Each son is a senior student this year, who plans to graduate high school and then transfer into the college environment. And she is shoving them out the front door into the world of college life with a heavy heart, a worried mind, and a fake smile, knowing that a man and a woman must rule their own world without the attachment of a set of long strands on their mama's sissy blue tinted cooking apron.

Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the third is the first-born son and wears a very serious or sour personality depending on the current teen scene as the leader of the triplets. He is overly protective of his mother and his two brothers. He dresses in a pair of clean dark colored blue jeans, a clean white tinted tee shirt, and his favorite pair of black and dark blue-tinted, polished cowboy boots, a dark blue tinted cowboy hat, and a matching dark blue lightweight sports jacket on a cold night. He drives a jacked up 4x4 white tinted pickup truck to school and around his home town of Lacy Springs, within the U.S. State of Alabama.

Flamingo is really named as Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fourth. He wears a very raw, rowdy, and restless teenly personality. He dresses in a pair of repaired and ratty camouflage colored green, beige, and tan cargo pants that ends at the bottom of two his naked kneecaps. He displays, daily, a clean but vile scribbled colored tee shirt, a pair of dark brown worn, nasty flip-flops on his naked feet, and that same ass-backwards camouflage green, tan, and beige tinted baseball cap over his ratty blonde curls that fall around both of his ear points. He drives a red tinted Chevy Camaro sports car real fast without his mother's permission. And he is nicknamed Flamingo, after a set of pink-tinted flamingo-printed animal pajamas during his childhood.

Flamingo had worn the pink tinted flamingo-patterned animal pajamas as a two years old toddler while carrying around a matching pink-tinted flamingo-stuffed toy animal underneath his left armpit. He would not depart with the toy animal during eating, sleeping, or shitting until age of eight years old.

His mother Arie purposefully has stored the hard evidence of numerous glossy photographs for visual proof, when Flamingo becomes too rough and raw using her personal and clever blackmailing scheme. She still tries to teach her precious Middle Child among her triplet sons how to behave like a proper Southern gentleman.

Cinco is really named Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fifth. He is born behind the butthole on his older brother Breck and then Flamingo in the city of Homestead, within the U.S. State of Florida, at a military hospital. Their dad had been a paratrooper for the United States military forces.

Cinco represents the math number five from the Spanish language that honors their Florida birthplace, where lots of people speak two or three languages including English. Until their mother Arie moved them back home to Alabama, when the three boys turned two years old, after the tragic death of their biological father.

Cinco is the baby brother of the triplet brothers displaying a happy and laid-back attitude with his friends, families, and foes, including both male and female. He rides a blue tinted motorcycle with his long blonde curls streaming out from the motorcycle helmet and likes to wear a black leather jacket over a stark, sometimes, slightly dirty white-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt, and a pair of black leather riding boots.

Flamingo sneers and mouth spits into the smooth cheekbone on his brother. "He's too smooth, suave, and slick." The wide office door slowly closes shut in silence.

Breck growls back without wiping off the spit, "He's too calm, controlled, and convenient. I don't like him either."

They slowly move ahead towards the middle space displaying a standing row of individual three fake brown-tinted wooden writing tables and Robert Earl's dark brown colored executive office desk.

Flamingo snarls. "I concur, conclude, and concern for damn certain. We need to be very caution here with three exclamation points."

They stop and stand in the open space while staring at each other, thinking the same thought.

In the far wall corner, on the side wall, Cinco points at _that_ object with laughter. "Hey! Did ya'll see this thing over here in the wall corner? Hey, Breck! Look over here and see this thing!"

Breck spins around and smiles at both Cinco and the statue. "Yeah, it's a fake, stucco, stick-up hard lady."

"Naw! That's a copy of a Greek goddess." Flamingo smiles at the fake beige-tinted granite Greek statue, spinning around, viewing the row of wall of cabinets. He exhales with a deep sigh then slowly moves ahead towards the row of writing tables with a black-tinted individual computer laptop. He slides in the rolling chair and begins to type on the keyboard, activating the computer, working on his senior high research assignment while deeply sighing with too much school homework.

"It's a piece of naked concrete." Cinco cups his index finger and his thumb pad at the exposed naked nipple on the granite breast of a cold-hardened Greek statue, rubbing his fingers back and forth on the beige nipple, flinging his skull backwards. He opens his mouth with a pretend love-yell in silence.

Breck laughs out loud at his entertaining baby brother then pads ahead towards the same granite statue examining the fake art work also.

Cinco stands upright with a sour frown and removes his hand, staring at the naked breast. "It's just not the same, ya'll!" He spins around with laughter and shuffles around the office space for a new object of interest.

At the row of writing tables, in the last chair, Flamingo continues to type on the computer keyboard trying to finish his stupid poopy topo-morphology project, before the deadline. "Naw. She's the goddess of War, who is named Athena, which happens to remind me of another nasty war god that lives right here in Lacy Springs also."

Breck stops and stands in front of the naked statue with a worried face.

Cinco advances towards the closed office door to find his grandfather, so the triplet brothers can finish early and go pond fishing for some fresh catfish. Then the triplet brothers can surprise their mother with the fresh catch of the day as the nightly supper meal.

Breck stands in front of the naked statue and reaches out, touching the hard granite breast on fake Athena with concern. "Did you break it, Cinco?"

"Naw, dude!" Cinco almost reaches the closed door.

Breck examines the fake Greek statue. The granite lady wears a long robe that touches the floor covering her legs and feet, a breast plate over her right-side naked breast and a four-foot long rock sword in her fighting hand that points down to the floor. He frowns. "If you break the naked stucco girl, then our granddaddy will award you the letter grade of F-plus in each subject of literature, history, and science."

Cinco frowns. "I didn't break the fucking statute, Brick Brain."

The door swings open in silence.

Cinco stops with a gasp then extends his hand, saying with a smile to the person. "Good morning Granddaddy and..."

A new guest stands beside Robert Earl and in front of Cinco.

Robert Earl reaches out and shakes Cinco's right hand, quickly releasing it, slapping both his open palms against the biceps on Cinco, displaying a smile.

An unfamiliar male possesses a head of thick strands of whitish-gray colored hair over his brown tinted hair strands and studies each grandson, greeting with a smile. "Good morning, ya'll!" One hand is parked on his belt loop and the other hand cuddles a vanilla-colored paper folder with a circular logo of Redstone Point. The Redstone Point logo shows an Indian brave with a Mohawk haircut on top of the business folder. The new unnamed mature male observes each grandson in silence.

Cinco frowns down at the wardrobe on the strange male.

The new male wears a pair of red tinted cowboy boots, a pair of faded and destroyed blue jeans, where both exposed naked suntanned kneecaps is shredded, like a silly teenage girl, and a pair of red tinted belt with a gold-plated horse head buckle that he had probably purchased on-line from an internet company. He displays a white-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt without a sports jacket while appearing like a college student, especially with a wooden toothpick hanging over his smirk rather than a professional employee on Redstone Point.

Robert Earl nods to each grandson. "Lads, I would like for you to meet Adair Jared Bibb. He will be called Dr. Bibb to you."

Adair lifts his free palm near his wicked smirk then shifts the wooden toothpick to the other side of his smile, "Naw! I'm called A.J. There's no formality here, please, Dr. Balegreen. I'm a simple hillbilly redneck that works here." He winks at Cinco, who stands in front of him. The three brothers chuckle at the southern pedigree self-honor.

Flamingo stands upright from the rolling chair as it slides backwards from his ass, hitting the front edge on the executive desk. He nods with a smile to A.J.

A.J. drops his hand and slaps his jeans, saying with a smile. "I'm only here to assist your grandfather on a short-term work project underneath a shroud of dark..."

"...military secrets..." Robert Earl smiles at the nose profile on A.J. "I work here for the US military too." He views each grandson and wears a stern face. "Lads, Dr. Bibb has made remarkable progress on my science project providing some excellent eyes as well as some brilliant ideas. Excuse the pun! Lads, I'll be in and out of my private office setting on this particular lovely sunny morning while coming and then going into a few numerous work-flow meetings. But Dr. Bibb here, he is willing and able to help each one of you with any of your curious questions whilst completing your vitally important individual academic research paper, before the holiday break. Please, make him feel like a brother. Excuse the pun again! Please excuse me for an hour or so. I must attend another urgent meeting with my supervisor and the director of my division. But Dr. Bibb, he will continue my work researching those deeply hidden dino pits below the Appalachian foothills, which is located right behind our backyard. That is the only safest part of our secret that I can share with you for the moment. When I return here from my meeting, we will go and do lunch, lads." He slowly spins around from his grandsons and moves ahead towards the closed door.

A.J. pads ahead into the private office environment and wears a smile in silence.

Flamingo stands from the chair, shuffles sideways with a smile and then extends his hand to A.J. like a southern gentleman.

The door slowly opens. Robert Earl exits his business office and strolls down a busy hallway.

Inside the office, A.J. slowly moseys ahead, stops, and then stands behind the rolling chair at Balegreen's office desk which is filled with mountains of papers, maps, and exposed tiny metal instruments without shaking the extended hand on Flamingo. Instead, A.J. slaps the vanilla-colored paper folder on top of a smaller stack of papers then reaches out, grabbing the back rest on the rolling chair hauling it backwards from his body. The soaring chair nosily slaps against a metal filing cabinet and then bounces sideways stopping with its own inertia.

A.J. grabs and drags one of the side non-rolling conference table chairs making a series of short and loud squeaking sounds over the smooth tile floor lining the chair even with the hole space, folding his short body frame down into the empty seat. He measures five feet and nine inches of shortness, when he is compared to the six-foot plus frame on each triplet brother.

He lifts then plows his dirty cowboy boot heels on top of the vanilla-colored paper folder wiggling his ass down into the nicely padded seat on the conference chair, resting his hands behind his rear skull, closing his two eyelids. His body faces the row of windows showing off a sunny day and as A.J. gives a wrong impression that he isn't interested in performing his daily working duties for his supervisor Balegreen.

Flamingo continues to stand and stares at A.J. in mental shock withdrawing his extended hand, pointing at A.J. in silence then views his older triplet brother Breck.

Breck continues to stand beside the Greek statue and nods back to Flamingo while staring at A.J. He parks both hands on his hips in total shock.

"Military secrets! What kind of military secrets, dude?" Cinco moves ahead with a smile then stops, standing in front of the office desk, staring at A.J. "We'll keep your military secrets secret with a redneck promise. That's so cool! You work with my granddaddy on his secret project. So, dude, where are all the dino bones buried underneath or over the dino shit oil pits?"

A.J. doesn't open his eyelids but rumbles in a deep voice. "Pixie dust."

"Excuse me!" Flamingo dashes ahead from his writing table, scoots around the edge of the executive desk, and then stops, sneering and standing behind the rear skull on A.J. He ponders a fighting rumble to correct the man's misguided southern redneck behavior for disrespecting an elderly person, which is a big no-no here in Alabama.

A.J. yawns with an ugly mouth and continues to relax in the conference chair, wearing a pair of closed eyelids. "It looks like a yellow tinted sandy mixture that doesn't exist anywhere on Planet Earth. I call it, pixie dust," he does not steer from his sleepy pose like a true asshole of the South.

"I didn't know that pixie dust was colored yellow." Cinco leans over the desk and places both hands on top of the short stack of paper, chuckling at A.J.

Breck dashes ahead, shuffles around the executive desk, and finally stops, standing next to Flamingo, crossing both of his arms, sneering at the grayish-brown hair roots on A.J. "It sounds to me like you're disrespecting our granddaddy and our granddaddy's life time work, bro."

A.J. doesn't open his eyelids but smiles without shifting his lazy body from the chair, saying with a deep timber. "Earl has wasted his days and his nights searching for," he chuckles. "What is that new term scientists like to use? O yeah! Earl is searching for an urban legend," he slowly pulls down each boot heel from the stack of papers, without moving back his chair, causing the stack of papers to tumble down on the floor. Some of the vanilla-colored paper folders bounce then land underneath the desk space floor exposing each paper and its secret contents.

He opens the eyelids and stares at Cinco, slowly standing upright from the stationary chair, leaning over clean spot on the desk surface, smiling at the youngest grandson. "Do you need proof? How old is your grandfather, son?" He stands upright with a nod in silence.

Behind A.J., Flamingo frowns as and his two eyeballs stare down at the floor while his active mind calculates out the math problem inside his skull.

Flamingo is 17 years old.

Arie was a senior high school student at the age of 18 years old, since the day of her birth fell in the month of November and she missed the cutoff date for starting First Grade at the age of six years old. She graduated from the high school establishment, in the month of May, at the age of 19 years old, and then married her beau a week later in the same month.

Breck, Junior also graduated at the age of 18 years old, who was younger than his girl.

Yes, Arie is the older woman in Breck, Junior's life.

Arie was born the year before in the month of November and Breck, Junior was birthed four months later in the month of March.

Breck, Junior married his soul mate joining the USA military forces the next day seeing the world, visiting foreign places with his new wife Arie.

Two years later, at the age of 21 years, in the month of July, they created three fetuses developing into triplet children. Five months into her pregnancy, Breck, Junior was killed on a secret military mission inside a warring foreign country for the USA armed forces.

Arie was 21 years old during conception and gave birth at the age of 22 years old next year in the month of April. From her age of 22 years at birth old plus 17 years old later with three triplet sons in high school, Arie is currently 39 years old.

But Arie will turn 40 years old in the month of November, this calendar year.

Iredell graduated from the high school establishment, in the month of May, at the age of 18 years old. Then she married her beau Breck Freehurst McCory, the original in the same month and conceiving a fetus that night. Her husband died the next week in a terrible farm tractor incident. Her biological father sent his only daughter off to college starting June 1st.

She met, greeted, and fell in love with her second husband Robert Earl Balegreen in the month of June leaving the college setting for her home town of Lacy Springs. Over nine months later in the month of March, Iredell birthed her son Breck Freehurst Balegreen at the age of 19 years old. From her age of birth at 19 years plus 21 years from her son's death plus 17 years from her three grandsons, Iredell is 57 years old.

Robert Earl had attended four years obtaining a bachelor's college degree, three years for a master's college degree, and four years working for a PhD doctoral college degree making him 29 years old when he met and then married Iredell in the month of June. He obtained his doctoral degree during the summer session. So, Robert Earl was 29 years old when his non-biological son was birthed plus 21 years old from Breck's death plus 17 years old from three grandsons. Thus, he is currently 67 years old.

Flamingo looks up and views A.J. "Granddaddy Balegreen is about 67 years old."

Cinco gasps. "Naw! Is Granddaddy Balegreen really 67 years old? I didn't know that! That's really, really old! Whoa the stagecoach!"

The Balegreen family unit celebrates each holiday, each marriage anniversary, and each birthday every year for fun and joy, but during the birthday time, an age number is not presented or discussed, especially with the elder grandparents.

Cinco once inquired about that silly secret ritual. Arie explained that a southern lady does not exchange information about age, weight, and money matters with any party, including their precious kinfolks.

Inside the business office, A.J. spins around and smiles at Flamingo, who is the smartest and more dangerous among the Balegreen triplet brothers. He nods with a grin. "That's about right, son. An old goat with a set of two big horns on a set of two short wobbly kneecaps that's trying to climb the tallest, steepest, and meanest section on the Appalachian foothills. He might need to be a bit more careful at the age of sixty years old."

"Are you threatening my granddaddy, sir?" Breck sneers.

A.J. winks at Breck, "Naw, boy! I'm observing the facts, son. Old roosters belong in a nursing home flirting with old hens, not chasing after their lucky rainbows," he slowly spins around and smiles at the row of glass windows, avoiding the sneer on Cinco also. The window view displays a breathtaking view of the tall and wide Brindley Mountain Range that poses underneath a pale blue sky in Alabama.

A.J. nods at the row of windows. "I can see how a fellow would dream big while looking at the sunny horizon, not a flat horizon of green bushes or greenbacks. Well, boys, I gotta scoot back to my office and finish up my work for the day, before my long lunch time."

"Green bushes! Greenbacks!" Flamingo whispers for his eardrums only and stares at the back spine on A.J. with confusion.

"Hey, bubba! My granddaddy, who is your boss, told you to wait right here and work with us." Breck frowns at the back spine on A.J.

A.J. scoots sideways from the office desk and moves ahead towards the closed office door, saying with a smile. "I gotta go, boys! I have enjoyed meeting ya'll today. Don't worry! There's more work to be done in _them there hills_ , as the old saying goes. I need to get going and find all the secret stashed dino pits filled with tons of pixie dust," he laughs. "You know, if there really is a new collective of deep crude oil down _in them there hills_ , then it might make a single man something great or greater." He laughs and reaches out touching the door knob. The office door slides open. A.J. exits the business office with a soft whistle of happiness. The office door slides shut.

"Asshole!" Cinco spins around and sneers at the closed door, tossing his fist in the air while killing the empty air currents.

"Asshole can't hear your weak insult coming out from your flapping lips with the door closed, Cinco." Breck squats down on the floor and exhales with annoyance, reaching out, cleaning up the small piles of loose work papers. He draws one of the papers into his face while trying to figure out which work paper belong to which work folder, before his granddaddy comes back into the office. "Cinco, break some kneecaps and help me clean this up mess, before Granddaddy comes back here." Cinco slowly spins around then gently lands on top of the hard floor, lifting a couple of papers and reads in silence the information.

Flamingo moves ahead, stops, then stands in front of the row of clean glass windows staring at the pretty day and new sight. "A.J. drives a jacked-up Chevy and he has a rebel flag plate on the front bumper."

"He's a hillbilly redneck," Cinco continues to kneel and shifts the loose papers in his hands, reading each one.

"He's still an asshole to me." Breck continues to kneel on the floor and carefully picks up each page, deciding if it fits into one of his newly created three piles of papers.

"This paper folder is complete, Breck. I think." Cinco sits down on his ass and crosses both of his legs viewing each page of the report. He ensures each page number fits into the correct numeric order which it does. Then he reads out loud the topic of the report. "What do you know about Lacy Springs?" He looks up with a chuckle and views the back spine on Flamingo. "Hey, Flamingo! Let me test your IQ about our birth city. Tell me! What do you know about Lacy Springs? If you're right, then I'll crow like a bird for each correct answer," he laughs alone.

Flamingo continues to stand in front of the window and shakes his skull staring at A.J. "Asshole."

"That's the wrong answer, dude. I'll fart, when you're wrong. Is that okay with you, Flamingo?" He laughs.

Flamingo sneers at Cinco but watches A.J. through the window. "Do not start your farting ritual in here, Cinco! Or I'll drag your ass outside and tear a new hole in your ratty blue jeans from behind using your ass as mt marker."

He smiles and reads out loud the report from Granddaddy's vanilla-colored paper folder.

Breck continues to keel on the floor and cleans up the rest of the papers with worry. His brother Flamingo has a set of good vibes about strange people. "What's bothering you, Flamingo?"

In front of the row of windows, Flamingo stares and studies A.J., who enters a dark blue pickup truck.

Inside the truck cab, A.J. sits in the driver's seat and whips out his personal mobile telephone talking to someone on the other end, without starting the truck.

Inside the business office, in front of the row of windows, Flamingo sneers at the scene. "Dr. Bibb, he looks like a redneck. He drives a redneck truck, a twenty-year-old Chevy with a lifted suspension and a set of off-road tires. His vehicle is even marked with dried red clay like he went on a mudder ride last weekend."

"So what?" Cinco continues to sit on the floor and reads the paper report with a grin.

Flamingo exhales with annoyance while watching A.J. A.J. slowly reverses from the parking spot then steers ahead towards the main road leaving Redstone Point, disappearing out of eyeball sight. He spins around with a sour frown and views the visual commotion.

Cinco sits on the floor with a smile reading the paper folder. Breck bends on his kneecaps, holding four sheets of paper, looking for the right pile of information in silence.

He moves ahead with a sour frown towards the executive desk. "A.J. looks legit but acts..."

"...like a true hillbilly hick." Cinco continues to read the paper with a smile.

Flamingo stops in front of the office desk then squats down, picking up the first paper that has slid underneath his granddaddy's desk, reading the contents with a stern face. "Naw. A.J. acts like a true phony, fake, false person."

Breck places the paper in the second pile of papers, saying with a confused brow. "Why do you say that, Flamingo? A.J. was very rude to us and our granddaddy, who is his boss."

Cinco points down at the paper with laughter. "Listen to this shit! In the town of Lacy Springs, eighty-two percent of folks drive a car to their place of employment, while one percent of the population rides a horse. There are fifteen folks in Lacy Springs that have attained a doctorate degree from college. Ugh! Is that a medical doctor? Are there even fifteen physician offices here in Lacy Springs, Flamingo?"

Flamingo sits down on the floor and leans down, picking up a second piece of paper, reading the information in silence. "The paper report includes educated people like our granddaddy, who had obtained a doctoral degree in taffy pudding, Cinco." He insults his own grandfather with a slight touch of revenge towards that stupid topo-morphy senior high research project.

Breck stops picking up the paper and looks up, over the desk surface, but can't see Flamingo. He sneers with angry. "That's going to get you a fist of nose bleeding from me, bro."

Cinco reads out loud from the same paper report for all eardrums, wearing a smile. "O! There are 3,816 houses with 5,937 households. I know what a house is. What is a household, Flamingo? Why is the household number bigger than the total number of houses? That doesn't make any sense to me," he looks up and stares at the nose profile on Flamingo, who sits on the floor a few feet beside Cinco.

"A household measures a family unit, consisting of mama, daddy, and children and might include a set of grandparents, who live in a single house. The household number is bigger, because a group of people live inside a single apartment setting, since they don't own a house." Flamingo continues to scan a third piece of paper.

Cinco looks down with a worried brow and views the paper report. "O! That's so sad. The average household income is forty-four thousand dollars-per-year. An average is a measurement of something above the number forty-four thousand and below the number forty-four thousand. That's so sad that some family units receive less than forty-four thousand dollars-per-year to buy their food and pay their electricity bills," he looks up with a stern face to see the nose profile on Flamingo. "Can we employ them, Flamingo? We have a big farm."

Flamingo continues to read the paper report, which had been prepared by his granddaddy. He looks up with a grin and views his tender-hearted baby brother, "Yes, Cinco. We can employ them, after we, three get our brain-mind educated about farm business and farm finances from a college education. That's why we are going to a university to learn and help other people."

He smiles with a nod, "Gee! Now, I comprehend and understand why mama is all the time pushing me to go to college. I wanna go to college and learn how to help all the folks here in Lacy Springs," he turns and smiles at the desk that blocks the body of Breck. "Ain't that right, Breck?"

"Right, bro!" Breck kneels behind the executive desk and places the last sheet of paper in the last pile, smiling with his simple accomplishment.

Flamingo looks up from the paper and stares down at the clean tile floor with his evil thoughts. He greatly desires to track down A.J. then re-arrange an eyeball for insulting his blood-family members, but he decides to check with his two brothers. He turns and stares at the opening inside the executive desk, without seeing Breck. "What about Dr. Bibb, Breck?"

Breck looks down and straightens each pile of papers, saying with a puzzled brow. "His first impression sucked along with my first impression of Diarrhea," he laughs out loud at Darrel's new pet name that had been created by the triplet brothers. "Good thing here that A.J. only works with our granddaddy, because that boy ain't never ever going to touch a single hair on my mama's pretty head."

"Amen, dude!" Flamingo turns and sneers at the wall that holds the row of glass windows.

He reaches out and touches the first stack of papers, saying with a stern face. "What do you think about Dr. Bibb, Cinco?"

"If the boy drives a pickup truck with a confederate rebel flag, then he's okay in my book. When I compare him to Diarrhea's fancy little foreign sports car that can't hold a wet beer bottle of my piss," he chuckles with his two brothers. "And if A.J. turns out to like deer hunting, bass fishing, and hill top mudding, then he's a cool redneck and one of my bros." Cinco continues to read the report with a smile.

"Touché, Cinco!" Breck straightens the first stack of papers then places the items inside one of the empty vanilla-colored paper folders. He hopes the stack of papers are in the proper order without his granddaddy's neurons and eyeballs noting the messy floor. His granddaddy might become upset with A.J.'s rude behavior towards his three grandsons today.

"Okay. We currently hold back our first judgment on Dr. Bibb, until the asshole strikes back like a rattler." Flamingo views the messy floor. A.J. had rudely redistributed the stacks of papers on top of Robert Earl's private desk and then rudely stomped his boot heels over each page. Flamingo picks up the next sheet of paper. "Then I get to beat his ass in the hue of black and blue," he reads the contents in silence.

"Amen, bro!" Breck places the last stack of papers into an empty paper folder.

Flamingo smiles and points down the paper. "Breck, this is a nice piece of amazing geological history that you should add to your Dino senior research paper. And I must say it will absolutootly ensure you to receive the letter grade of A-plus, son," he stands upright from the floor and holds a stack of papers.

"What is it?" Breck slowly stands upright from the floor with the stack of vanilla folders and cuddles them into his chest, wearing a puzzled brow, scooting around the desk then stops, huddling with Flamingo and Cinco around the sheet of paper.

Flamingo sits in the middle and then rattles the paper for fun, reading out loud for all eardrums. "During the Glacial Maximum, about 18,000 years ago, the influence of the Arctic air and boreal," he looks and smiles to Breck. "That means, the scare vegetation of dino food," he looks back down with a smile and reads out loud. "The boreal died out and then starved off the herds of dinosaurs here in the regional landscape of Alabama which is located at a 34 degrees and 40 minutes of the northern latitude position," he looks up with a stern face at the ceiling tiles and as his mind calculates the information. He views Breck. "That's somewhere near metro city of Huntsville."

Cinco leans into the report and reads the information, saying with a smile. "That's so cool, dude! Flamingo, go and find me one single amazing historical fact too, so I can add it into my senior paper of coal while making me the letter grade of A-plus too. Mama will greet me with a big wide happy smile on her pretty face. She will be so darn proud of me, since this will be my very first letter grade of A in my short school life here at LSH. Man! The subject of coal is both dry and dark," he chuckles. "Do you get it? It's dry and dark like a real chunk of coal," he laughs alone.

Breck moves ahead to the row of writing tables, stops, then stands in front of the computer laptop, leaning over and types on the keyboard, saying with a puzzled brow, "Naw, bro. The latitude numbers are closer to B'ham."

Cinco moves ahead with a smile, stops, and leans over Breck's collar bone, reading out loud the information on the computer laptop screen. "The city of Birmingham is located 33° 39' 12" North by 86° 48' 32" West."

Breck exhales. "Okay. Flamingo is right. Let's check out the city of Huntsville which is north of metro city Birmingham. Huntsville is located 34° 43' 48" North by 86° 35' 06" West. That's 34 degrees north but off from the minutes of 41. Do you have any other idea, Flamingo?" Breck and Cinco stare at the screen on the computer screen.

Flamingo looks down at the floor and calculates with his mind, "Hmm! That's really close to us. The Lacy Springs township is 34 degrees and 40-something minute latitude. So, travel your computer arrow more towards the southern direction, which is near Owens Cross Road here in Alabama, a small community of 2,000 folks."

Breck leans down and toggles the arrow on the computer keyboard, reading out the new information on the screen. "The small town of Owens Cross Road here in Alabama is located 34° 35' 10" N by 86° 27' 31" W."

"Whoa! Too far east, turn back towards the west." Cinco nods with a smile at the computer screen.

He adjusts the mouse then reads out loud the screen information. "Redstone Point is 34° 41' 03" North by 86° 39' 15" West. That is a precise match of 34 degrees and 41 minutes on the northern latitude, which was performed by me," Breck laughs with his brothers.

Cinco stands upright then tosses both of his arms in the air, saying with a smile, "Yeehaw! The dinos are located right here on the military base, Breck. Whoa, man!" He drops both of his arms and slaps his leather pants, viewing the floor. "So, that oil field is right here, maybe below us and underneath our boots. Hey! Shall we start digging right here inside the office? And we should tell our granddaddy that we have solved his science project mystery. He might get a medal or something from the US Federal Government."

Flamingo shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap and flips through the stack of papers reading out loud. "Okay. I found a perfect explanation. Inside the complex of Redstone Point, during the construction phase, in the 1950s, dating back to the Paleo-Indian period of 8,000 BC, two pre-historic archaeological sites were discovered that uncovered a set of massive bones of a single T-rex and other smaller dino parts. The dino parts are currently displayed at the Smithsonian Institute in Washington D.C."

Breck shakes his skull with a puzzled brow. "Huh! That's not a lot of dino shitty oil for 300 million people here in the USA. But dino oil once did exist underneath this mountain foothills the entire time making our granddaddy's science theory all true. However, the US Federal Government found and abused it first, as usual."

Cinco back steps from the computer and spins around, moving back to the executive desk in silence.

Flamingo moves ahead to the row of writing tables, stops, then stands beside Breck, handing the new sheet of paper with the dinosaur information, so Breck can reference the footnotes for his school research paper. Flamingo still holds the other papers.

Breck accepts the new sheet of paper and reads out loud the new information for all eardrums. "Based on this report, they drained the oil field dry sucking up the crude oil resource in the year 1992, before we were even born," he laughs.

Flamingo leans down and examines the coordinate numbers on the computer screen then points at the computer screen. "Hmm! These coordinate numbers are very close to us. Do you remember our granddaddy saying something about finding a set of twin 37s in both the latitude and longitude? The twin 37s would pinpoint the exact location of these long-lost dino pits that would be filled with chunks of dry and dark coal for the Christmas list of Santa's bad children."

"A.J. called it, pixie dust." He sneers at the report.

"So!" Cinco shouts out loud from underneath his granddaddy's executive desk.

"Hmm! My neurons are tapping out a beat that it might be pixie dust." Flamingo leans over and reads the same report in Breck's hands. "And I might be receiving a big fat letter grade of F on my senior class research paper, if I prove our granddaddy's theorem is completely wrong."

Breck shakes his skull and wears a stern face, "Naw. We can ping the coordinates using the computer, because the twin 37s are somewhere around here and near the entrance point of the military base called Redstone Point. And I think our granddaddy is right. So, you will still receive the letter grade of A-plus, Flamingo. And we'll help with that, ain't that right, Cinco?" He places the paper on the desk surface then taps on the computer keyboard setting up the math coordinates inside a geographical perimeter.

"Right!" Cinco shouts out loud from underneath the executive desk.

Flamingo spins around with a sneer and views the wiggling ass on Cinco. "What in the hell are you doing crawling over the dirty floor like a bug, Cinco?" He moves ahead, stops, and stands in front of the desk.

Cinco backs his butt-hole out from underneath desk hole then stands upright from the floor, pointing down at the single sheet of paper, saying with a smile. "There was another piece of paper underneath the desk. It's a treasure map. Wow! Look at this, Flamingo!" Flamingo leans over and studies the single of paper, wearing a stern face.

Breck moves from the table with the computer laptop then stands beside Cinco, extending his hand for the paper, saying with a stern face. "Hey! I'm the hunter here."

Cinco hands over the map to Breck and softly chuckles at his arrogant older brother. "Fine! Mr. Hunter Guy, please interpret the damn map for us."

He accepts the map and studies the information, saying with a smile, "Hmm! There is a completed circle that represents a pond or a lake or a body of fresh water. There is a series of big X-shapes that signifies a tree or lots of trees, which are tall and plentiful. So, there is a large pond surrounded by a clump of trees."

"What type of trees are located in the grove, Hunter Guy?" Cinco chuckles. Flamingo studies the map in silence.

Breck brings the map closer into his eyeballs double-checking the tiny figures, "Hmm! There is something inside the X-shapes that could be describing the type of trees. A fruit tree for food which is around water for living like the Indian tribes did decades ago."

Cinco smiles at the nose profile on his other brother. "Flamingo, what are some types of fruit trees here in Bama?"

Flamingo continues to stare and studies the paper map, "Walnut, pears, plums."

Breck smiles, "I see a bird in the tree on the map."

Cinco smiles, "Yellowhammer is the official Bama state bird. It's the symbol of Alabama."

He shakes his skull, "Naw. That's a common type of bird. This bird has some special other meaning. Or the bird would not be drawn on this map."

"A mocking jaybird!" Flamingo smiles down at the map.

Cinco frowns down at the map. "Hell naw! If I was drawing a treasure map for my family members, then I would draw a bird with a set of musical notes popping out its ass," he laughs.

"Music comes from a person's lips, Cinco." He chuckles down at the map,

"Not in bird nature." Cinco laughs.

"So, what type of bird is that, Hunter Guy?" He laughs.

Cinco smiles, "Name some flying birds, Flamingo!"

"Red robin, blue jay, gray sparrow, eagle," Flamingo smiles.

Breck frowns, "Naw. The bird is standing up on its claws and hooked on top of the tree limb, maybe it's a mama bird."

Flamingo frowns. "I don't see a nest of tree branches or any shape that looks like a nest with tiny rounded bird eggs that would signify a mama bird."

"Mama birds live everywhere. That's too common." Cinco frowns down at the map.

Breck gasps down at the map. "Wait! The drawn bird stands upright on top of a horizontal tree branch. But, to me, based on my eyesight and my mind neurons, the bird looks like its beak is slightly touching the vertical part of tree bark..."

"...a woodpecker bird..." Flamingo smiles.

"Yeehaw!" Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and smiles then slams his hands down on his pants. "Way to go, Flamingo! A woody woodpecker inside a grove of tall trees around a large pond, that's the location of the treasure in the treasure map."

Breck frowns at Flamingo. "A woodpecker taps on a tree trunk finding an insect that lives inside the crevice on the bark for food and excavating a nest by building their home by drilling a hole into the tree trunk with its beak."

Flamingo looks up and winks at Breck. "And a woodpecker hammers its beaks to attract a mate, to defend a territory, to excavate nesting, and to search for food. This symbol of a woodpecker makes no sense on this map, since the woodpecker flocks are either a loner family or live in massive groups. The group-living woodies are communal social buddies that are found everywhere, especially here in Bama, except for the foreign country of Australia and both polar ice regions. A woodpecker will live in a cool forest or a rough smooth rocky hillside, not a hot desert."

"So, what is the meaning of the mysterious bird in the treasure map?" Breck frowns.

Flamingo views Cinco "Where did this treasure map come from, Cinco? What folder was it attached too?"

Cinco lifts the paper folder in the air near his smile. "This one!"

He buzzes his lips and then frowns. "That's a vanilla-colored paper folder with the Redstone Point logo of an American eagle that A.J. was holding in his hand when we met him this morning. And then A.J. slapped that paper folder down on top of our granddaddy's work files, before he dirtied the files with his nasty boot heels. Shit! This is a fake map, brothers. This is a ruse to us for some damn reason. Dumb ass! I change my mind about Dr. Bibb. I think we should go and find him and then beat the snot out of his nostrils tomorrow morning, before our academic class time with our granddaddy. I wanna see if he bleeds out in green or red," he laughs with his brothers.

Cinco nods with a chuckle. "I agree with Middle Child Flamingo, Breck," he spins around with a chuckle and dives down onto the floor again. Cinco reads the name on each paper folder where Breck had nicely sorted and stacked. He opens each folder and makes a mess on the floor while looking for an amazing historical fact for his research paper to receive the letter grade of A-plus to impress his mother Arie.

"I agree with the both of ya'll. Dr. Bibb needs a triplet lesson of good southern manners tomorrow morning. We can get him behind his jacked-up pickup truck tomorrow morning, since all the hard-working middle people are inside a cool air-conditioning office, drinking a cup of hot coffee." Breck turns and nods to Flamingo.

Cinco slides out from underneath the desk and sits on his ass, flipping through the pages, reading the new information. "Why is there a paper folder on Mohawk Patch? Mohawk Patch, we've been there thousands of times, well, not thousands, but a few times when searching for little baby eagle chicks. Mohawk Patch is located way up high on that pink colored mountain peak..."

"Put that back, Cinco! Better yet, pick up the rest of these folders and lay them back on top of our granddaddy's desk with his private business papers, before you get us kicked out of the office. Or worse, you get us jailed by the Redstone Point military policemen. This is a military installation that tests new experimental war weapons and missiles for Saint Pete's Sake." Breck flings both of his arms in the air and wears a sour frown then points down at the floor.

Flamingo moves ahead, stops, and then squats down studying the new report inside Cinco's hand, saying with a puzzled brow, "Mohawk Patch! Is there is a second Alabama village with the name of Mohawk Patch? I would state that is a very unique and almost rare occurrence."

Cinco flips to the next page in the paper file reading in silence. "In modern times, we civilized people like to use the words, city or town, Flamingo."

Breck waves both of his arms in the air and sneers at his two brothers, pointing down at the floor. "Both of ya'll, get up and off that floor. Cinco, you can come and play on the computer laptop with a new electronic game. Flamingo, you need to go and get back to finishing your senior research paper, before our granddaddy catches us having fun and then giving us hell."

Flamingo reads out loud the report in Cinco's hands. "In the month of cool April, on the ninth day of bright sunshine, in the year 1865, the last Civil War battle raged between muskets and gun power with the Union blues and Confederate grays on a small woodland plot of land, which was called Mohawk Patch. At the same instance in time, General Robert E. Lee occupied the city of Appomattox within the U.S. State of Virginia and was surrendering all his rebel troops to the union leader General Ulysses S. Grant. The fierce battle fight became lost forever inside the American History books, since General Lee's war surrender rendered it silently moot within each academic mind of an authentic Civil War historian along with a surviving soldier from the bloody bout, who was named McCory. Soldier McCory carried the true war tale down into his grave in the year 1909..."

"McCory! I know that sur-name." Cinco looks up and smiles at the baseball cap on Flamingo.

"Does the article really use these particular words? The article sounds like it was written by an aspiring fiction novelist. What do you think, here, Flamingo?" Breck crosses both arms with a sour frown.

Cinco frowns at Breck. "What is a Civil War battlefield doing in the middle of a forest got to do with both dino shit oil pits and chunks of dark and dry coals? The answer is nothing. This is a science fiction story."

Flamingo continues to read out loud the paper report. "The Brindley Mountain is an isolated part of the Alabama foothills that occupies the extreme peak tabletop tip within the geographical portion of Morgan County, not inside Madison County, where the military base was named Redstone Point by the local redneck residents. The tabletop peak is marked by a unique geological creation of sandstone cap-rock overlying a layer of limestone rock in the bright color of candy pink..."

"Hey!" Cinco laughs with a nod. "I know another pink cap-rock sandstone tabletop peak..."

"We all know that cap-rock sandstone tabletop mountain peak, dumbass." He views and laughs at Cinco. "It's the only one within a one-hundred-mile radius of metro city Huntsville with a pink rooftop. Gawd! He's slow, today, Breck," Flamingo winks at Breck.

Breck laughs. "He eats and breaths. Cinco can only do two activities at a time. Thinking would be a third activity, bro." The computer laptop beeps with an alert. Breck spins around with a smile and moves ahead, stopping in front of the single row of three writing tables viewing the active computer laptop. He leans down and reads out loud the information on the computer screen. "The computer has located a naked escarpment that lies precisely at 34° 37' 13" North by 86° 37' 14" West. I be damned. Come over here and look at this, Flamingo!"

"Did you find the twin 37s in both the latitude and longitude? Good going, Breck!" Cinco hands the paper to Flamingo then leans over, selecting a new paper folder, opening to the front page. He still is trying to find a piece of awesome datum fact for his senor research coal paper also.

Flamingo stands upright from the floor and totes the paper folder, moving ahead and stops, standing beside Breck. He studies the computer screen with a puzzled brow. "That doesn't make any sense, Breck. Granddaddy Balegreen claims that there is a series of underground and untapped dino pits to be found here near the military base. And based on all his paperwork which represents a life-time of research here in Bama, the US Federal Government found every single underground cavern back in the 1950's and then drained the caves dry in 1990's. This all probably happened during that oil crunch. Is Granddaddy still thinking with his muted neurons that there could be another new underground ancient cave that holds new reserve dino oil field which has not discovered yet? Could the location be located on top of a mountain peak which is nicknamed Mohawk Patch? That doesn't make any logical sense, to me, Breck. What do you think, man?"

"I dunno, bro." Breck stares and studies the screen in confusion and puzzlement.

Flamingo looks down and frowns at the paper folder. "Mohawk Patch represents a mountain peak of pink, a forest valley of green, and a rebel bloody battle of red. Now, I can understand why the proper name has been tossed around the Lacy Springs' landscape. That description comes from a set of old verbal horse tales as told and retold by each tongue on every great-grandparent that lives here in Lacy Springs. What is the common connection that links the three events, Breck?"

"There might not be a connection, just a common name, which has been recycled like a box of aluminum beer cans." He continues to stare and studies the laptop computer screen.

Flamingo exhales with worry. "Then, asshole Dr. Bibb is correct. He still is a smarty and a smart-ass too. A.J. said that our granddaddy really is chasing after a plume of yellow tinted pixie dust within his twin 37s plot, which is really the mysterious land, that is nicknamed Mohawk Patch."

He frowns at the nose profile on Flamingo, "Geez! Are you going to tattle-tail that dang demon tale to him, Flamingo?"

"Hell, naw!" Flamingo looks up with a frown and shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap at Breck.

Cinco continues to sit on the floor and shakes his curls, after searching through each paper folder. He reads out loud the paper report for all eardrums. "Man, I can't find one single amazing historical fact about stupid black, dry coal. Hey, Flamingo! Listen to this one. I found that sur-name again. Prior to the Civil War, the lands were dominated by numerous large cotton plantations taking up miles and miles of crop land as documented by these surviving archaeological sites. There is set of glossy pictures. Please see the old photos. A small parcel of cotton fields played a peripheral role during the Civil War posting a band of Confederate soldiers along a small valley of forest thicket between the Tennessee River and the Brindley Mountain Pass," he looks up with a smile and views Flamingo and Breck, "Hey! That perfectly describes Mohawk Patch, isn't that right, Breck? Mohawk Patch lies in the middle of the river and the rock. We should try to find that old Civil War site. I bet there're tons of old ancient bullets and creepy bones in there. What do you think, Flamingo?"

Flamingo moves ahead with a stern face, stops, then slides down next to Cinco, reading out loud the new information in the paper folder. "Following the Civil War, the set of large cotton plantations, which were owned by all the poor and penniless farmers, including sets of former slave owners and their heirs, who couldn't provide enough food for a decent living or pay the required property taxes to the US Federal Government, was sold collectively to the McCory family..."

"McCory is the first family of Alabama." Breck nods with a smile.

Flamingo flips his palm in the air for silence to Cinco then drops his hand down slamming his leg while reading out loud the new information inside the paper folder. "McCory is the lone solider that survived the Battle of Mohawk also."

Breck nods. "So, soldier McCory came back home from the Civil War and then purchased all the surrounding cotton farms between the Tennessee River and the Brindley Mountains, including that Pass, where the rebel fighting took place which would include that plot of land which was called Mohawk Patch."

He looks up with a puzzled brow to see Breck. "Do you recall? The Lacy Springs township was started when the favorite stallion owned by McCory shit a pile of steaming green turds between a maple and an oak tree to celebrate the deed with a new home," he laughs with his two brothers.

"That's an ancient bedtime story told only to goody-good kids, Flamingo," Cinco chuckles.

"Yeah. But that hot spot is located and part of our land farm, because our great-great granddaddy Balegreen had purchased hundreds of acres from the first family, when ancient McCory granddaddy died." Flamingo nods with a smile.

"Who says that cattail, Flamingo?" Breck frowns.

"Granddaddy Balegreen does," Cinco smiles.

Flamingo smiles at Cinco. "That means! Where's that treasure map, Cinco?" Cinco stands upright from the floor with a smile and unfolds the map, holding it in the air. His two brothers shuffle around and stand in-between Cinco, studying the same map.

Flamingo smiles and points down the location of the heap of drawn trees on the map. "We had seen this place, since our birth, my brothers. The drawn tree lines here in the map are really the ledge along the Brindley Mountain Range that overlooks the mountain's tabletop ledge, which is called Mohawk Patch, where is it marked with a pink tinted capstone of limestone."

Cinco gasps. "A.J. brought his paper folder into our granddaddy's office that contained this map that he had hidden inside," he looks up and frowns to Flamingo. "Then A.J. knows the true location of Mohawk Patch too."

Breck smiles. "Naw. A.J. doesn't know the location of Mohawk Patch, because he would be there, instead of here this morning with us."

Flamingo nods. "I agree with Breck. A.J. stole this map that holds the true location of Mohawk Patch, because he doesn't know the exact land location, and now he needs our granddaddy to read his stolen treasure map. Last night, A.J. told us he came from northern Bama, not central Alabama like us. And our granddaddy has lived here his entire life while immediately recognizing the geographical location in this ancient map like us also."

Cinco gasps with worry. "So, A.J. came in here to the business office looking for our granddaddy's aid with the map. But we're here now needing our granddaddy's aid with our senior high school project. I do declare that our granddaddy might be in a very grave and serious dangerous situation coming from Dr. Bibb."

"Naw!" Breck frowns.

He turns and frowns to Breck. "Yeah, it is so, Breck! Our granddaddy knows the exact location of Mohawk Patch and the dino oil fields. Once he sees and then identifies the location on this physical map. Then A.J. will betray and might harm our granddaddy. Look how arrogant A.J. acted towards us, without our granddaddy in the room! That man is nothing but mega trouble for us and our granddaddy, Breck."

"Naw!" Breck frowns.

He exhales with annoyance and holds up three finger digits, picking it one off with his other index finger, nodding with worry. "Yeah, it is so, Breck. A.J. up and told us a peak of green bushes or a pile of greenbacks. One, he has the map. Two, he has probably, almost figured out the same information that we just learned about reading our granddaddy's report. Now, we possess the same information also. Why did A.J. leave both the folder and the map behind then?"

Flamingo nods. "A.J. was in too much of a hurry to leave us, triplet brothers behind. Dr. Bibb doesn't seem to like us very much."

"Dr. Bibb doesn't like us snooping around his true science project. I bet he came in here hunting for the same technical report folders belonging to our granddaddy that we just read and then pieced together it all together. The dino oil field isn't underneath the dirt on Redstone Point but at the location of Mohawk Patch." Breck nods with a stern face.

Cinco nods back with a stern face. "Okay! We got the map now, so we beat him to the mark. Do you think that dino shit field is there, Breck?"

He smiles. "I do, Cinco. And I agree with you. We beat A.J. both literally and figuratively to the dino shit, this afternoon, when we get back home. We have football practice for an hour. Then we truck out in one of the terrain vehicles up to Mohawk Patch and figure out where the valley called Mohawk Patch is located. Then we can inform our granddaddy tomorrow morning of our new discovery in his business office here."

"So then, we can make millions of greenbacks coming from a newly discovered dino oil field and not from asshole A.J." Flamingo smiles with a nod.

"Where is Mohawk Patch located on the US Federal Government land property? Can we sneak on that parcel of land without being captured by a troop of military soldiers?" Cinco frowns.

He exhales. "Now, that's a dangerous question, Cinco. Let's go and find out, right now. Breck, go back to the computer and triangulate the three pointers, surrounding the tabletop peak at Brindley Mountains, the Tennessee River, and the Brindley Pass. We go on the assumption that Brindley Pass is the true mysterious Mohawk Patch."

Breck spins around with a stern face and moves ahead, sliding inside the rolling chair, tapping on the mouse while following Flamingo's instructions. He reaches over and types on the keyboard, reading the computer screen. "I see nothing here about the US Federal Government, Cinco. So, the land of Mohawk Patch is free land, which is owned by no one."

Cinco moves ahead with Flamingo then stops, standing on one side of Breck, studying the computer screen. Flamingo stands on the opposite side of Breck with a stern face. "Naw. Someone owns it. Reduce the triangle to read the proper name on the landscape." Breck manipulates the mouse on the screen as the screen shows the proper name. Cinco whistles out loud. Breck gasps at the computer screen. "The highlight triangle of woodlands area is all of our mama's land property."

Flamingo shouts out loud in shock. "What the f...?"

The office door swings open.

Robert Earl stands inside the archway and wears a sour frown, staring at the first writing table with the huddled triplet brothers, slowly moving inside his office. "A southern gentleman does not cuss, Flamingo. I am quite certain that your mother Arie has taught you a set of proper southern manners. Lads, did you find something interesting for the required senior class research paper?"

Cinco looks up with a gasp then back steps from Breck, dashing ahead towards Robert Earl, waving both of his arms in the air, distracting attention to him from Flamingo. He stops and stands with a smile directly in front of his granddaddy blocking the view of the active laptop screen and his brother Breck. "Yeah, we did, Granddaddy. We found..."

"...the food place to eat for a tray of greasy barbeque ribs and three well-done, yummy hamburgers for Flamingo. Ain't that right, bro?" Breck cuts off the computer then swiftly slides off the rolling chair, back stepping from the table, blocking for Flamingo.

Flamingo swings around from the computer then quickly replaces back each spilled paper folder on top of the neat stack while Breck continues to block the eyesight on Robert Earl and Cinco occupies the brains on Robert Earl.

Cinco turns with a fake smile and points down at the object on the side wall. "Granddaddy, this thing...this box, it reads topo-morphological isolator. Did I say that right? Does this topo-morphological isolator really locate a chunk of coal? That's my senior research class paper, isn't it, sir?"

Robert Earl stops and smiles at Cinco. "Why? Yes, it does, Cinco." He slowly turns away from his office desk and Flamingo, moving ahead towards the side wall, stopping next to one of the long tables. He reaches out with a smile and touches the object. The object is a long, silver-tinted, cylinder-shaped flashlight with a set of spiky protrusions surrounding the metal top that appear like a set of individual levers. He slowly lifts the object with a heavy grunt. "Let me demonstrate the purpose of the topo-morphological isolator. I have a coal sampler over here by the window seal. Lads, come over here and see my new invention sitting on top of the table. The topo-morphological isolator works like a metal detector, but it finds and locates a vein of hidden coal. Isn't that something?" He laughs.

His three grandsons shuffle ahead then stop surrounding their granddaddy, wearing a set of smiles and a tone of soft chuckles from their new deep, dark discovery.

Balegreen Cow Ranch location, property of Arie Balegreen

Kitchen setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

05:05 pm

Three triplet brothers enter the kitchen setting one at a time coming from an open garage door, slamming down a new individual dark-tinted backpack on top of the clean kitchen tile floor. Each teen also drags inside the breakfast section a second dirty, ratty dark-tinted backpack from the garage space for their new afternoon woodland secret adventure to Mohawk Patch.

The kitchen space represents a long, wide rectangular shape broken into two sections: the breakfast room and the kitchen area.

The kitchen space comprises three walls containing upper and lower light gray tinted wooden cabinets. Some of the cabinets display a glass façade showing off the stoneware and glass tumblers for everyday use. The entrance wall of the kitchen space contains a white tinted curved entrance door and a long kitchen top of purple and silver colored granite with numerous smaller shiny silver-tinted kitchen appliances and other silver-tinted gadgets for each meal and lots of elbow-room for the employees working side by side. The middle of the room stands a long island of matching granite rock displaying numerous prepared plates of food.

In the wall intersection, there is a hidden panel door for entering and exiting the formal dining room setting.

Four paid cook staff members are working on the evening meal and ignoring the words and actions from the three busy teenagers. One side wall houses the standard kitchen major appliances including three refrigerators, two dish washers, three wash sinks, two stoves, and three ovens.

The opposite wall space displays numerous empty horizontal gray-tinted wooden shelves for storing cooked or cooling food entrees; closed matching wooden cabinet shelves with cooking pots and pans, and three tall matching wooden doors with dry food items.

The other half of the kitchen space is the breakfast room. The walls are painted a light gray ton for entertaining ten people at a round-shaped, white wooden table with a set of matching hard-back chairs. The rear wall contains the matching wooden door leading into the six-car garage space and rows of empty gray-tinted wooden shelves for storing dirty items from each teen. Each side wall views the manicured yard of colorful flowers and small groves of assorted trees. The breakfast table sits a few feet from the side wall of windows and away from the garage door creating a nice pathway into the kitchen space.

Cinco leads the triplet brothers and moves ahead towards the one of the tall food pantry doors, wearing a sour frown. "What in the hell is that shitty smell in here?"

"Your shitty breath, my nasty brother." Flamingo follows the back spine on Cinco with laughter, halts, then faces the glass window inside the breakfast nook.

Breck stops then stands in front the semi-crooked row of ratty backpacks, squatting down, fiddling with each item. Each backpack will be filled with supplies for the scouting adventure before sunset into the forest wilderness while investigating the famed Mohawk Patch. He nods. "Cinco, go and get us some snacks for our adventure into forest. Flamingo, go and get some guns, in case, we run into Dr. Bibb's face. I'll go and find our mama and give her a sappy story about us going quail hunting for tomorrow night's supper. She likes it when we eat off our land like a bunch of real hillbillies." He chuckles with Cinco then stands upright from the floor, racing down the semi-dark, narrow hallway, hiding his secret purpose from his mother.

Flamingo strolls ahead to the low-lying row of glass windows then halts, wearing a puzzled brow. "Why is Granddaddy Balegreen here at our house this afternoon? We just left him a few hours ago. His expensive, foreign, luxury golden-tinted sedan is parked on our driveway getting heated in the hot sunlight."

Inside the semi-dark hallway, the loud voice of Breck echoes into back into the kitchen for all eardrums. _"Hey, Grandmother Balegreen! Why are you here at our house? Where's Mama?"_

In front of the food pantry open doors, Cinco grabs then stacks several packages of peanut butter crackers, cheese crackers, and potato chips bags inside the crook of his arm.

The back spine on Breck re-appears and as his body slowly moves through the open archway first. The smiling face of Iredell appears next and as her body moves into the kitchen room. Breck continues to block his grandmother and says with a smile, waving both of his arms in the air. "We, uh, are going quail hunting for a bit, Grandmother, before sun down. Then we, ugh, will come be back here before suppertime."

"You, three boys can go quail hunting only with your mother's permission, dear." She nods with a smile then halts in the middle of the breakfast nook watching her other grandsons.

Breck scoots around his grandmother with a smile and dashes ahead down the narrow hallway, shouting out loud for each pair of eardrums, _"Mama!"_ He moves into the entrance hall shouting out loud again, _"Mama!"_

Inside the kitchen, in front of the windows, Flamingo spins around with a smile and moves ahead, extending both of his arms with a chuckle, hugging Iredell with love and respect, peaking a light kiss on her wrinkled cheekbone as she giggles. Flamingo pulls back and releases her body, saying with a smile. "Why are both of ya'll here at the cow ranch, Grandmother?"

"We are babysitting, dear. Arie is out of the house with Darrel. They're attending the horse race."

"...which had run away and then ended this early afternoon, before we all got outta of school today," he snarls.

"And you're too smart for your little britches, Flamingo. Yes, it did. So, they are attending and hopefully enjoying the social party which is given by the management of the race track for the winning horse's celebration. Arie will be home much later." She nods with a smile.

He frowns. "Later, that means our mama misses suppertime with her three cute adorable kids."

"And her three kids are old enough to order pizza for suppertime also," she grins.

He nods with a chuckle. "Well, that sounds like a fair trade off to me. So, we'll be having a combination of pizza and beer tonight, ain't that right, Grandmother?"

She shakes her curls with a grin. "You're too smart-ass for your little britches, also, Flamingo. That's why your granddaddy and I are here to ensure that there are no missing glass bottles of spirits from the unlocked liquid cabinet, which is hidden away inside the den."

He chuckles and snaps the fingers. "Shoot! I can't even get an evil plot passed you, Grandmother."

"No one truly can, dear." She smiles to Flamingo. He back steps from Iredell allowing the next grandson a hug while watching Cinco. Iredell spins around into a wall of muscle with a giggle, "Cinco..."

"Hi, Grandmother," Cinco leans over and hugs his grandmother, leaning down, peaking a light kiss on her cheekbone like a good grandson and then pulls back with a smile while releasing her body," Where's the tray of snacks, Grandmother?"

"We all are heading into the belle parlor room for your afternoon snacks." She nods with a smile. Cinco scoots around Iredell and Flamingo swiftly racing down the same semi-crooked narrow hallway towards the belle parlor room alone and hunger in silence.

Iredell lifts her arm then gladly accepts a solo escort from her adorable grandson Flamingo exiting the kitchen, entering the hallway.

On the second floor, Breck dashes back and forth while hunting for Arie, shouting out loud in panic and worry, _"Mama! Mama!"_

Inside the entrance hall setting with three walls of tall glass windows and slightly heated temperatures but a nicely air-conditioned space, Iredell and Flamingo turn the wall corner, stroll ahead, then halt at the bottom step on the grand dark wooden staircase.

She turns and softly words to the staircase and as her words echo on the second level while searching for Breck. "Breck, your mother is at the annual horse race. Please come back down for the second floor for your tray of nutritious snacks. The supper meal will be served at five o'clock, the evening."

Flamingo views the second level and shouts out loud in a harsh tone. "Breck, get your ass back down here! Pronto, boy!"

She smiles at rear skull on Flamingo. "Dear, if I wanted to cuss out loud, then I can speak those words myself."

He winks at Iredell, "Just helping, grandmother."

She continues to hug his arm and giggles with a grin at her troublesome grandson, "Just annoying, grandson."

He leads and moves them towards the open archway in the belle parlor room. "And how many wasted hours today has my mama been with Diarrhea?" He laughs with amusement.

She smiles at his nose profile. "That's both clever and creative. Was that your nasty pet name or one of Breck's brilliant creations?"

"Cinco is the true right-sided brain artist within the Balegreen family," he laughs again. They enter the parlor room setting.

Robert Earl sits on top of a giraffe-pattered loveseat in front of the low-lying, long row of clean glass windows while reading a book.

Cinco sits at one of two empty metal business office desks, eating then chews on afternoon snacks from the food tray. The tray holds nine peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Flamingo releases his grandmother and then moves ahead wearing a smile, extending his hand to his grandfather.

At the loveseat, Robert Earl looks up with a smile and then stands upright from the chair with the assistance of his grandson. He shakes then releases Flamingo's hand as a friendly gentleman's gesture of two southern men. Then they engage in small chat-chat.

Iredell smiles and strolls ahead to a turtle-patterned loveseat, sitting down, patting an empty seat next to her and says with her belle manners. "Flamingo, come over here and sit with me."

Flamingo nods with a respect ending the conversation with his grandfather then slowly back steps from Robert Earl, spinning around to view Iredell.

Robert Earl sits and watches Cinco, who continues to drown both of his lips and each one of his naked finger pads in bits of brown colored peanut butter and red tinted strawberry jelly food stains. Robert Earl shakes his bone skull and exhales in disgust, collecting the book from the side arm, looking for his marked spot.

Flamingo laughs out loud and moves ahead to Iredell, tossing his arm in the air, shouting out loud. "Toss me a sandwich, Cinco!"

Cinco doesn't flinch from his disgusting eating motion, scooting up a single sandwich with his pitching hand then slaps the food item together while keeping the two bread slices intact. He launches a solo sandwich in the air towards Flamingo. Flamingo moves ahead with a smile and catches the sandwich with his two open palms then crams the sandwich between his lips while listening to Iredell.

On top of the turtle-patterned loveseat, Iredell smiles at Flamingo. "Arie left the house around ten am when the limousine..."

He swallows the food then comments with a sneer. "Mama took an expensive rented limousine to the local race track, instead of her personal clean and shiny pickup truck. What in the hell for?" Flamingo continues to move ahead and chews with an open mouth of food, lifting both of his arms in the air, "Toss me another sandwich, Cinco!"

Robert Earl views Flamingo then gasps in annoyance, "Flamingo, you are..."

" _Mama!"_ The baritone voice on Breck echoes throughout the empty entrance hall.

At the clean office desk, in the new office desk chair, Cinco chews both his words and food particles, mouth spitting chewed particles on top of the desk table and floor, pointing at the tray. "I only got two more sandwiches left."

Flamingo slaps his chest with a nod, "One for me. One for Breck. And don't spoil your dinner, son! We're having pizza and beer," he moves ahead with laughter towards Iredell. She smiles and shakes her curls at the ridicule teenly suggestion.

"Beer!" Cinco smiles with food particles between his front teeth.

"Did I hear the word beer?" Breck enters the room with a smile then stops, sliding down into the other office desk chair next to Cinco. He reaches out quickly stealing the last two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Cinco misses the sneaky take with a sneer. Breck stuffs the first sandwich into an open mouth chewing with a chuckle. Then Cinco reaches out and tries to steal the second sandwich wrestling the arm on Breck.

Breck chews the first sandwich fast then swallows the lump of bread and nuts with a loud burp, stuffing the second sandwich into an open mouth while laughing. He chokes and then gags out loud, tossing up some of the lumpy dough from the first sandwich. He chews with an open mouth both of two sandwiches.

Cinco reaches over then violently shakes the naked forearm on Breck, hissing then sneering with annoyance at his older brother for eating the rest of the snacks. His belly lining continues to rumble for more food.

Inside the giraffe-patterned loveseat, Robert Earl continues to sit and stares with a sour frown at the disgusting behavior of his two teen grandsons. He exhales with frustration. "There will be no introduction of spirits, here, tonight, lads. We will be served a platter of delicious fresh boiled lamb chops which will be decorated with rows of freshly cut baby carrots and lightly buttered spring beans. All prepared by the ranch's chef. I will be enjoying a glass of fine white wine while Arie's three children will be drinking a tall glass of sweet milk."

"O! Those skinny green beans and carrots. I don't like skinny foods. Do you like skinny foods, Flamingo?" Cinco watches Breck consume the last snack of sandwiches without seeing Flamingo.

Breck chews with an open mouth of food and stares at Iredell. "Where's my mama?"

"Mama accompanied Diarrhea to the horse race this morning inside a rented limousine." Flamingo licks each dirty finger and burps out loud, spinning around, sitting beside Iredell and stares with a sour frown at Breck.

Inside the giraffe-patterned loveseat, Robert Earl frowns at his troublesome grandson. "Flamingo, please use your set of gentleman manners, here, tonight."

"The horse race ended at two pm, this afternoon. Mama should be home now. It's five pm in the evening." Breck chews then swallows the food looking down with a sad face at the empty snack tray. Cinco leans back into the chair with laughter patting a sort of filled stomach for Breck. Breck gasps in understanding then leans over fighting with Cinco. They playfully hit a pair of folded fists into each other's face at the office desk.

Flamingo nods with a smile at his two fighting brothers. "Breck is correct as always. Let's send out a posse to the horse race track and rescue our mama. I drive. Breck rides as shotgun. Cinco is the lookout," he stands upright with a nod. "Our mama is too old to be out so late after dark."

Inside the giraffe-patterned loveseat, Robert Earl continues to sit and shakes his bone skull, wearing a sour frown at Flamingo, "After dark! The weather is clearly a little after three-thirty within the bright sunny afternoon, Flamingo. Please sit down! Your mama left us in charge for the evening. Lads, does anyone have their research paper ready for my initial review? I promise only to peruse the content, not provide a letter grade this round but only assist you with any major infractions that might cause a bad letter grade," he chuckles. "Do remember this? Your senior research paper accounts for eighty-five percent of your combined grade in the three academic subjects of literature, history, and science."

Breck shoves Cinco away from his face with a soft growl as the rolling desk chair flies across the room with Cinco. Cinco releases over the arm rest and stops the chair with his hand on the floor while laughing out loud.

Breck stands upright from his rolling chair and slaps his chest. "Me! Granddaddy, my senior research paper is ready. I spent my entire study hall class time editing all the grammar sentences and writing the conclusion. I be done. Can you grade me right here and right now, Granddaddy?"

"That is excellent, Breck." Robert Earl continues to sit with a smile closing the novel. Breck spins around with a smile and moves ahead, wiping off the food crumbs from his clothes, exiting the parlor room for his bedroom.

Robert Earl smiles at back spine on Cinco. "Cinco, you must be almost finished also. Do you want me to read your first draft for my academic review? So, you can meet the deadline, before the holiday break."

Cinco stands upright from the rolling chair and wipes off the food crumbs with a smile, spinning around, rolling the chair back to the desk, "Naw, Granddaddy! I wanna test your invention and add a grammar paragraph about your devise inside my senior research paper. Then I'll be finished. And then you can grade my paper and give me a letter grade of A-plus like Flamingo always gets in each one of his high school academic classes. This will be my first ever letter grade of A-plus," he nods with a smile then halts, using his strong teenly muscles and shoves the chair forward into the side of the metal and chrome office desk as the stationary office desk squeaks in pain then scoots a few inches across the wooden floor stopping in a new spot. Flamingo laughs at the silly performance from Cinco.

Iredell frowns at Cinco first then views her husband. "What invention, Cinco? What have you invented, Robert Earl?"

Robert Earl smiles at Cinco. "That is a very good idea, Cinco. When is the day and time of your test on my new clever invention?"

Flamingo smiles at Iredell. "Granddaddy has invented a topo-morphological isolator for locating a hidden vein of coal underneath the ground."

"The Appalachian Mountains, we will perform our first test tomorrow afternoon, after our classroom training. Ain't that right, Flamingo? I'll go and get your awesome invention. I have some questions about the controls, Granddaddy." Cinco exits the room.

Iredell smiles at Flamingo and pats his leg. "I find it ironic that Breck has a little southern belle. Cinco has a little southern belle. Arie has found herself a southern beau. Who's your little southern belle, Flamingo?"

Flamingo frowns at Iredell. "Naw, Grandmother. Mama doesn't need or will never need a beau. And Diarrhea ain't her beau or her boyfriend or her boy toy."

She smiles, "Violet is a pretty southern belle who doesn't have a handsome beau for the moment. And a beau does not have to be a boyfriend either. The word beau means an escort for a social event or a male companion for an evening date."

He hisses. "Diarrhea ain't going to be my mama's social date anymore to anymore social events, once her three grown children have a light-hearted chit-chat with the dude, if Mama ever returns back home from that damn horse race," he looks down and reads his designer wrist watch. "Now, the time is passed four in the afternoon," he views Iredell. "When is she due back home? Did she call or text you, Grandmother?" He looks down and pulls his personal mobile telephone from his pocket viewing his text messages. But he knows the answer to his inquiry. Arie does not like to text on her personal mobile telephone, since she likes to meet and greet her three sons in person every morning before school, and every afternoon from school.

"Mrs. Balegreen..." a middle-aged woman appears and stands with a smile inside the open archway in the parlor room.

On top of the giraffe-patterned loveseat, Iredell looks up with a smile and views the standing kitchen staff member. She stands from the loveseat with the assistance of Flamingo nodding in silence to her grandson for the help. She slowly moves ahead then stops whispering with the house servant inside the open archway of the parlor room. The house servant back steps from the archway then spins around moving back into the kitchen to finish her work.

Iredell follows the back spine on the house servant leaving the parlor room for the kitchen setting as each house servant finishes the suppertime meal.

Inside the parlor room archway, Breck appears and dashes back inside the parlor room, looking down at the stapled papers. He quickly double-checks the paper numbers, the proper title, and his proper name on his five-page typed research paper. He stops and stands with a smile in front of Robert Earl, slowly extending the paper towards his granddaddy.

Robert Earl places the novel on top of the sofa fabric then slowly stands upright from the loveseat with the assistance of Breck, accepting the paper from Breck and carefully examines the contents in silence.

Cinco reenters the room with a smile and the topo-morphological isolator invention then stops, forming a triangle huddle with Breck and Robert Earl.

Flamingo continues to stand in front of the loveseat and frowns with worry. There is not an old or new text message from Arie. He has four text messages from Loser Lacey, who wants additional help with her senior class research paper. Flamingo deletes each message with a soft sneer then views the mysterious invention, swiftly standing upright, moving ahead with a grin towards Robert Earl, Cinco, and Breck.

Iredell strolls back into the parlor and wears a smirk while scanning the mysterious invention and finally stops inside the huddle. She stands beside Cinco. Flamingo completes the circle and stands beside Iredell. Iredell laughs at the object. "Your flashlight has grown a set of catfish fins, Cinco."

"Naw, Grandmother! This is granddaddy's newest invention, the topo-morphological isolator. His invention is to locate coal ores or oil pits in the hills near Redstone Point, which is right behind our house." Cinco wiggles the object with a smile. He plans to test the devise tomorrow afternoon finding the dino oil field, before A.J. Then he and his two brothers will become rich and fame along with his granddaddy, who has worked his entire days and night looking for an oil field within the Alabama hills.

Iredell smiles, " _Topo_ is a Greek word that means place. Morphology is the study of shapes. So, you are going to study the shape of a physical place which will lead or maybe locate an oil field bed. Is that correct, Cinco?"

"Grandmother's smart." Flamingo winks at Iredell.

"It looks like a modified flashlight with about fifty odd tiny wire antennas encircling the metal. Does it actually work?" Cinco touches a vertical thick pole that stands in the center on top of the silver-toned, looking-flashlight. Then he reaches underneath the belly with a free hand flipping on the built-in flashlight switch. A round-shaped blue-tinted beam hits the floor, without sound. He looks up and smiles at each face. "The topo-morphological isolator is operating within working parameters, based on our granddaddy's mechanical speculations."

"How does the topo-morphological isolator invention detect a chunk of hidden dark and dry coal?" Iredell frowns down at the weird-ass devise.

"Do you see this? A tiny light on top of the devise turns green, when a vein of hidden coal has been detected. Or if we dance across a dino oil field also, then it turns green also." Cinco nods with a smile. Robert Earl had explained the invention while offering his guidance and encourage for each grandson to finish their individual senior class research paper, before the deadline.

She exhales with amusement. "Well, I do believe that there are still some numerous hidden coal fields around those parts. I would venture to say, if you look hard enough, then you will indeed locate one. But finding an old field or a vein of coal is a lot different than mining one."

"What does that mean, Grandmother?" Flamingo frowns at the devise.

Robert Earl clears his throat and smiles at Iredell. "The lads are going to use my new topo-morphological isolator to root out a coal shape underneath the hard soil surface. We don't exactly know where the coal vein is located within the landscape of Lacy Springs, but we have high confidence that the lads will be very successful, maybe very profitable too."

"Where have you advised the boys start searching, Robert Earl?" Iredell frowns.

"We start in our own back yard, of course, Grandmother." Flamingo laughs. She turns and frowns at Flamingo in silence.

Flamingo does not desire to give away the real location of Mohawk Patch, since the triplet brothers greatly desires to beat up on the body of A.J. using both their motorcycle tires and their fighting fists, when the four males meet tomorrow morning inside the parking lot at Redstone Point.

Iredell senses some deception from her triplet grandsons but slowly nods with a fake smile. "Well, I believe that Arie will agree with me. The back yard is a good starting spot, as long as, you, three do not dig up her new set of pink azaleas," she softly giggles. The other males softly chuckle.

The front door sounds with a couple of loud fist knocks on the wood.

Inside the parlor room, in front of the giraffe-patterned loveseat and Iredell, Cinco continues to hold the topo-morphological isolator. "Doorbell!"

Breck whips his sneer away from the isolator then looks at Flamingo, sneering with an evil smirk. "Diarrhea's here!"

"What!" Flamingo back steps from the huddle then spins around, racing Breck towards the parlor open archway as the first triplet brother to intercept Darrel and then bleed the man at the front door.

Cinco gasps in shock and hands the devise to Robert Earl spinning around at the same time with Breck, exiting through the open archway at the same time also. They see the back spine on Flamingo.

Flamingo leads into the entrance hall arriving alive first and then stops, standing in front of the closed door. He reaches out with a sneer and jerks both wooden doors open, staring with a gasp at the new visitor.

"Hello!" The baritone voice from a new guest echoes inside the empty entrance hall at the Balegreen Cow Ranch.

Cinco beats Breck then halts with a gasp, standing beside Flamingo.

In front of the open archway, Flamingo sneers at the new guest. "Look at what the damn cat dragged upon our front porch, Cinco! Go and fetch me the fucking gu..."

"A.J.!" Robert Earl appears and stands a few feet behind the back spine of Cinco and Flamingo, wearing a puzzled brow.

Inside the open archway, A.J. nods with a smile to Robert Earl, "Dr. Balegreen, I'm so sorry for the private intrusion. Your personal office message service informed me that you were here at cow ranch of Mrs. Balegreen. I was looking for a particular report that I must've left on your office desk during my short teaching session with the Balegreen triplets."

Iredell appears and stands with a smile beside Cinco. She reaches out and grabs the naked arm on Bibb forcing A.J. towards her breasts. "Come in, young man! How delightful to meet an associate of Robert Earl! He doesn't discuss much of his professional business at Redstone Point. I am Iredell or Mrs. Balegreen. But please do call me, Iredell."

A.J. steps into the entrance hall trying not to mow-down Mrs. Balegreen or appearing rude to an elderly southern lady, slowly moving ahead into the house, nodding with a smile. "Good evening, Mrs. Balegreen."

She twirls around and stands beside A.J., clinging to his naked arm, like a proper southern belle, saying with a smile to all eardrums. "Now, that is a set of proper manners coming from a southern gentleman," she winks at Flamingo. "Watch and learn, boys!" She slowly strolls ahead through the entrance hall heading back into the parlor room.

At the open archway, Cinco spins around with a puzzled brow and points at the back spine on A.J., saying to her grandmother, "Yes, ma'am!"

Breck appears and stands beside Robert Earl while shaking his skull in puzzlement.

Flamingo spins around with a sneer and stares at the back spine on A.J. too.

Iredell leads her new guest and her family members back into parlor room. "Please stay and join us for supper, Dr. Bibb. The supper meal should be ready in another few minutes or so. And I promise with three hungry grandsons, there are plenty of food trays to feed all of General Robert E. Lee's rebels for the night."

"Please, call me, A.J., ma'am." He smiles with Iredell. He must locate that paper report inside that paper folder that he had accidentally left on top of Robert Earl office desk, this morning as he entertains Mrs. Balegreen.

She smiles at the nose profile of A.J. "What do you do for Robert Earl?" A.J. stops then looks down at the floor, each wall, and finally the ceiling inside the entrance hall.

Each entrance wall is comprised of black walnut wooden panels. The entrance room is 35 feet wide by 40 feet long by 35 feet high. Each wall contains a row of tall and wide glass windows that views the outdoors on three different locations.

In the middle of the room, a wooden staircase extends up by three levels towards the high ceiling that elegantly flows back down onto a marble floor of pinks and grays. A curved archway of rosewood doors on each side of the grand staircase hides the two individual parlor rooms.

A.J. continues to scan the room, "This room is magnificent, ma'am. This must be the most elegant and roomiest entrance hall in all of Bama."

She smiles. "So, have you seen other entrance halls, A.J.?"

He smiles at her. "I have seen a few, ma'am. But none is as grand in size with this type of square footage."

Cinco swiftly shuffles ahead from the open front door with a smile then stops, standing beside A.J., pointing down to the floor. "Do you see these deep marks in the marble? Me, Breck, and Flamingo were six years old. We each saddled a horse and then rode our stallion up these steps on the staircase like in an ancient black and white old cowboy Hollywood movie stomping on the marble tile like a hill of fire ants. Mama, she shore did pitch a shit fit and then she whipped our as..."

"Manners, Cinco!" Robert Earl frowns at the back spine on Cinco. Breck chuckles with Iredell.

Flamingo back steps with a sour frown and slams the set of front doors shut displaying a loud noise of annoyance.

Cinco continues to point down at the marble and says with a smile. "Then we, three got punished by Horace for endangering the horse, not the house," he laughs with Breck. "Don't you remember that also, Breck?" Breck continues to stand in place and nods with more laughter.

Robert Earl moves away from Breck and wears a sour frown, heading back towards the parlor room, waiting for the meal call in silence.

The front door sounds with a door chime of several low dings.

"Mama!" Breck spins around with a smile, advances to the closed door, then stops, leaning down and opens the wood with a gasp. Both Cinco and Flamingo spin around and gasp at the second new guest.

Inside the open archway, the new unknown male stands and smiles, "Hello! I am the pizza delivery guy with your pizza delivery, ya'll." A red-haired young adult male smiles and greets each triplet.

"Pizza!" Flamingo moves ahead standing beside Breck, looking down with a frown at the five stacked white boxes in-between the hands on the young male teen. He flips a puzzled face to Breck.

Breck looks at the young adult and does not recognize his face. He is probably a college student, who is paying his college tuition by working as a pizza delivery boy.

A.J. appears and stands beside Breck, reaching out for the pizza boxes, saying with a smile. "Thanks, young man for the special delivery. I really appreciate it, son."

Breck reaches out first and grabs the five boxes as he has been taught by his mother Arie to assist an older person.

A.J. provides two folded bills with the denomination of fifty, tipping one hundred dollars to the young teen. The delivery boy accepts the folded cash then opens his palm, nodding with a smile at the money. "Call us anytime, sir!" he looks up and stores the money, squatting down, lifting a new white bag into his smile. "I'll be your special delivery boy, anytime and anywhere, sir. O! Here's the other bag of extra goodies that you had ordered from the pizza place, also, sir."

"Thanks, again, son," A.J. smiles and provides another folded wad of cash money to the young male and then accepts the new bag.

Inside the archway, the delivery boy back steps from the front door with a grin then spins around, racing back to his old car. Flamingo reaches out and gently closes the single door shut, spinning around, staring at the pizza boxes and hears his growling stomach muscles.

Robert Earl appears and stands beside Breck, staring down at the boxes. "A.J., what is going on here? What is the meaning of this?" Each box is marked and identified as food pizza.

Breck back steps from the male line with a smile and moves ahead, toting the five boxes of pizza towards the kitchen setting. He secretly drools with joy over the pizza food, instead of plate of lamb chops.

A.J. back steps from the closed door then spins around with a smile while leaving Robert Earl beside Flamingo. He moves ahead with a grin. "I took the liberty of ordering pizza for the boys, Dr. Balegreen. I hope you don't mind here. I must discuss with you my report that I must've left on top of your business desk at Redstone Point, since you didn't have a chance to see." He advances ahead towards Iredell again.

Robert Earl spins around with a sour frown and stares at the back spine on A.J. "The dining room is this way, Dr. Bibb. Lads, please, leave these pizza boxes inside the refrigerator for your lunch meal tomorrow. Let's prepare our meals! I can smell the lamp chops burning inside the service tray."

Iredell spins an arm around A.J. for a second time and escorts them towards the narrow hallway and then into the dining room. "Nonsense, Robert Earl! The boys can eat pizza slices for your supper meal tonight. I bet A.J. would enjoy some tender lamp chops cooked in white wine instead of Italian food."

A.J. nods with a chuckle. "I will force myself away from the pizza slices tonight while being entertained with my lovely hostess."

Breck scoots around the slow-moving two adults and heads into the narrow hallway first with a smile.

Iredell smiles at the back spine on Breck. "Breck, please take all of the pizza boxes into the kitchen setting, dear. The other prepared supper is nicely stored in a service tray located in the dining room. Ya'll boys can load each plate of pizza inside the kitchen and then bring your dish into the dining room for suppertime meal. Is that all right, dear?"

"Yes ma'am." Breck swiftly leads down the narrow hallway with a smile and enters the kitchen setting with Cinco and Flamingo.

At 05:33 am, Robert Earl leads the cuddled couple of A.J. and Iredell into the dining room setting then stops, standing at the head of the dining room table, like a king, waiting for his triplet grandsons.

The formal dining room holds a single elliptical table matching the shape of the room. The table is made from mahogany wood with four animal-paw sculpted lion-shaped feet that holds an extended curved of five wooden claws on each standing leg. There are seven wooden expansion sections that extend the dining table full length, in case, thirty-two new guests show up for the suppertime meal.

Two wooden armchairs guard the foot, or the queen, of the manor and the head, or the king of the manor, at each end of the table. The other chairs are side chairs without an armrest for poking an elbow at each enemy or friend, depending upon your assigned seat.

Iredell moves with A.J. then halts a few feet from the archway. A.J. smiles at the pretty place setting on top of the dining room table. "I see a set of bone china plates, platters, bowls, tea cups and saucers. Ya'll eat fancy here around the suppertime hour, Miss Iredell."

She gasps at the table arrangement stopping in front of two dining room chair with A.J. "Who ordered the china plates out and displayed for our suppertime meal this evening?"

Robert Earl gently touches the edge of silver minerals on the delicate bone china plate saying with a smile. "I did. The lads need some sophistication thrown down into their individual redneck life. The lads will be attending the new college environment in a few more months. We don't want an embarrassment on our hands as they grow into a set of young proper mature adults," he looks up and frowns at Iredell. "Do we, dear?"

The elegant bone china dish and platter set, which is displayed on the side wall next to the buffet table inside a wooden glass cabinet, represents the original 200 pieces comprising an individual silver-trimmed eating plate and matching soup bowl plus numerous serving platters that display a tiny bouquet splattering of delicate purple tinted flowers in the middle of the yellow tinted background.

The original bone china collection, including the dinner, salad, butter, and dessert plates, the fruit, soup and finger bowls, the salt and pepper set, the teapot with lid, the creamer, the sugar bowl, and all the teacups and saucers, had been baked for the McCory family inside an ancient brick oven that had been located behind the black smith shop on the cotton plantation, in the year 1809.

On the opposite side of the dining room, Cinco then Flamingo enters from the kitchen door and slams into the side table with soft chuckle holding an individual plate that is filled with numerous pieces of pizza and stands in front of a non-assigned dining room chair with a set of soft grunts. Arie is not present to supervise, so Iredell monitors the manners and behaviors of the triplet brothers during the evening meal for tonight.

Flamingo and Cinco face A.J. and Iredell. Breck is located inside the kitchen setting. Robert Earl is always posed at the head of the table or the kingly position at his home, in Arie's home, and at the Dunlap home, without fault or fail.

In front of the dining room chair, A.J. releases her hand and views her nose profile. "Please excuse me for a moment. I forgot about the other bag of food still in my hand. It contains more food for the boys," he back steps from the chair then scoots around the table, moving inside the kitchen space.

Inside the kitchen setting, Breck wears a smile and stands at the kitchen counter stacking pizza slices on top of his full plate, where five boxes of pizza line in a row and are opened for an easy retrieval process.

A.J. enters the room then stops, standing at the same counter, lifting the bag onto the counter and says with a smile. "Breck, I have chicken wings and bread sticks inside this bag. Where can I find a large platter?"

Breck swings around and moves ahead to the other counter then stops, squatting down. He opens the lower cabinet and retrieves a new plate, standing upright from the floor.

A.J. looks up and opens the upper kitchen cabinet on the countertop with the pizza boxes, finding three colorful tumblers, planting each one on top of the kitchen counter. He pulls three sweaty cold bottles of beer from the white sack, popping off the lid, pouring each cold beer into a colored tumbler, which hides the sinful contents from the spying eyeballs on Robert Earl and Iredell.

Breck holds the platter and spins around with a gasp. A.J. continues to pour out a yellow tinted liquid into each colorful tumbler in silence. Breck gasps, "That..."

"...is a great combo with pizza," he looks up and winks to Breck. "Wouldn't you agree, Breck?"

"Yes sir! I agree mighty fine with you, Dr. Bibb." Breck moves ahead with a smile and slides the new platter over the kitchen counter nodding at the three cold bottles of beer.

"Please, call me, A.J. And, please, don't call your granddaddy," he finishes pouring out the beer into each new colorful tumbler and then accepts the large platter from a stunned Breck. He dumps with both hands down into the bag, pulling out the chicken wings and the breads sticks, arranging them ugly around the big serving dish like a single bachelor. He views Breck and wiping his hands onto the paper napkins. "Good enough?"

He laughs with a nod, "Delicious enough!"

A.J. nods with a smile. "Excellent! Let's join the fun party. Shall we, Breck?" He lifts the new platter of food with one hand, grabbing one of the colorful tumblers with cold beer with the other hand. He slowly spins around with a grin and enters back into the dining room in silence.

Breck gabs a large wooden serving tray, placing his oversized plate of pizza slices and the two other colorful tumblers on top of the hard surface. He gently lifts then totes the serving tray, scooting around the counter and enters the dining room, wearing a smile.

In the dining room setting, A.J. leads ahead then stops with a grin, placing a blue colored tumbler in silence slightly in front of the wiggling hand on Cinco.

Cinco stands beside Flamingo and looks down with a confused brow at the light-colored liquid inside the new blue tinted tumbler in silence.

A.J. scoots around the head of the table then stops, standing beside Iredell again while smiling at the blonde tinted hair roots on Cinco, who continues to study the light-colored liquid inside his blue tinted tumbler in silence.

Breck enters the dining room with a smile then stops with a chuckle, placing a colorful pink tumbler next to elbow on his brother Flamingo. "Here you go, bro! I have presented your drinking beverage that goes with your plate of pizza slices," he moves ahead with a soft chuckle and scoots around the head of the table, standing beside his Grandmother Iredell.

Flamingo continues to stand and looks down with a snarl at the pink colored tumbler, studying the contents. The liquid is not light brown for sweet tea. "It looks like your piss, Breck."

On the opposite side of the dining room table, Breck continues to stand and smiles at the ass-backwards baseball cap on Flamingo. The triples are not allowed to touch their food plate for tasting until the heavenly prayers are spoken to Brother Jesus. He softly chuckles, "Naw, man! That ain't my piss."

"I like to drink a dark colored soda or a glass of sweet tea, Brick Brain." Flamingo continues to frown with disapproval down at the yellow liquid inside a pink tinted tumbler.

"You'll like this soda. I promise, bro," Breck nods with a smile and stares down at the ass-backwards baseball cap on Flamingo.

Flamingo continues to softly growl down at the light-colored beverage inside the pink tinted tumbler.

Cinco continues to stare with a stern face and studies the light-colored beverage inside his blue tinted tumbler in silence.

At the head of the table, Robert Earl bows his chin down into his designer necktie, saying with a sour frown. "Thank you, Heavenly Father, for everything and everyone," he grabs the empty plate, shuffling around the table edge, moving first to the buffet table.

Iredell looks up with a smile viewing the back spine then the bald spot on Robert Earl. "Amen! The evening prayer was very nice, dear." She reaches over and touches the naked arm on A.J. while back stepping from her dining room chair. She slowly spins around with A.J. and faces the side wall, slowly moving ahead towards the buffet table that holds four individual silver tinted trays of hot entrees. She leans over and whispers into the cheekbone on A.J. which is away from triplet's eardrum range.

At the dining room table, Breck sips the beer and swallows the cold beer, forming a smirk while staring at Flamingo. "Drink it, man!"

Flamingo continues to stand and reaches out, lifting the pink tumbler in the air near his frown while admiring the color of the tumbler. "Pink!"

"Good. You ain't color blind. Drink it, Flamingo!" Breck sips then swallows another gulp of the cold beer, sliding out the chair then sits down on top of the padded seat. He chuckles with amusement.

Cinco slowly lifts then sips, swallowing a small gulp of the cold brew, pulling back with a smile and a nod. He sips and swallows again, nodding with a smile to Flamingo. "Ah! Breck is right. You'll be happy with this new brand of soda, Flamingo." He drags the chair out and then sits down, diving into the stack of pizza slices with a series of soft grunting noises and bad teenly table manners.

Flamingo cautiously lifts the lip on the tumbler into his nostrils deeply sniffing the liquid and then immediately recognizes the familiar brew smell. He looks up with a puzzled brow to see Breck in silence.

Breck continues to sit and grins holding his yellow-tinted tumbler of cold beer in the air in silence.

Flamingo dumps a big swallow inside his mouth, expanding both of his cheekbones with the nice bittersweet taste for a few seconds while enjoying the full flavor. He swallows the cold beer then turns to see the back spine on A.J. in silence, wearing a puzzled brow.

At the buffet line with Iredell and Robert Earl, A.J. continues to move down the buffet table and loads a heap of hot food on top of his plate.

Flamingo mouths in silence to Breck: A.J.

Breck sips and swallows the cold beer while nodding back in silence to Flamingo.

Flamingo frowns with a soft whisper for the eardrums of his two brothers only. "I still don't trust him," he sits down then eats the food.

"I don't either, but I do trust pizza." Cinco chews the pizza slice with an open mouth.

Iredell returns to the dining room table with a plate of food.

A.J. leans down and pulls out her dining room chair like a true Southern gentleman, smiling down at her hair roots. She sits down. He pulls out his chair then sits in the padded seat. He reaches out and places the folded napkin down into his lap with a smile. "I'm a scientist like Dr. Balegreen."

"And what do all the scientists science at Redstone Point?" Iredell smiles and picks at her food plate.

Robert Earl slowly moves ahead then turns, standing in front of his kingly chair with a sour frown, staring down at his wife, "Really now, Iredell! Do not become a nosy busybody like _The Good Book_ quotes. If you must insist upon invading a brilliant mind with your annoying habit, then I will tattle here," he slides out the chair then sits down on top of the thickly padded seat, exhaling with annoyance. "Within the Appalachian Mountain range, there is a particular escarpment of thicket contiguous forest which is located here within the north Alabama landscape between a thick patch of oak, hickory, and pines trees which might also be an upland site of meso-phytic species under a protected cove where a coalfield lies within a dinosaur bed." He flips open the folded napkin and places down into his lap, reaching for the utensils, eating the food.

She smiles and pats the hand on A.J. "O. It's a fairy tale of both coal and dinos among the foothills of Lacy Springs. I read that same old story tale decades, well, maybe centuries ago. I enjoy reading many, many books," she turns and nods to Robert Earl. "It is an old Indian legend, Robert Earl. What does the current scientific term claim or say? Yes, it is an urban legend. Don't let Robert Earl con you into his make-believe fantasy world, Dr. Bibb?"

"Please, call me, A.J." He looks up and scans the room, saying with a stern face. "I wish to apology and explain my presence to the younger Mrs. Balegreen for busting into her nightly supper meal. Is she joining us for supper tonight?"

On the opposite side of the table, Flamingo swallows his food then lifts the next chicken wing toward his mouth, "Naw. Mama is with Dia..."

"Manners, Flamingo!" Robert Earl turns and sneers at Flamingo while holding a fork of food near his open mouth. "You are to practice your southern gentleman social manners at the table and in front of guests."

Breck chews the pizza slice, "Mama is at the horse race..."

"...that ended about three hours ago." A.J. lifts his dinner knife and cuts into the tender lamp chop, eating with a smirk.

"There is always an afterwards evening and dinner horse race party for all the invited guests. I'm surprised that you're not there, A.J." Robert Earl sips the crystal wine goblet of white wine and then swallows, smirking at A.J.

A.J. chews and then swallows the food, softly slapping his chest, saying with a smile. "I'm a cowboy. I'm really not much for a fancy party or a fancy anything. I detest the competitiveness horse racing. It's only for the greed of money, not the pure honor of a racing with a set of magnificent stallions for enjoyment and pleasure like the ancient days of elegant horsemanship," he eats and chews the food in silence.

Cinco nods with a smile at A.J., "Me, too, A.J.!" He reaches down and grabs, folding the pizza slice, consuming the food in three bites and chews with a nod.

"I thought you were from the metro city of Huntsville, a city boy." Robert Earl continues to eat the food and stares with curiosity at the nose profile on A.J.

A.J. chews and then swallows the food, saying with a smile, "Naw sir! I'm a country boy at heart and a history buff for fun. Did you know this bit of history? The largest engagement of the Civil War in the State of Alabama was located within Madison County and it was fought during a driving rainstorm at Big Spring Park. Big Spring Park is located within downtown Huntsville right off _U.S. Highway 231_ and north of the Tennessee River. That particular battle fight was one of the smaller and lesser known swift bloody encounters of both the Union boys and the Confederate rebels, which came to be called the Battle at the Fort Redstone. And the Battle of Fort Redstone is not even mentioned inside any an American History book, where it occurred south of Redstone Point in the year 1865."

"Redstone Point property contains about 38,400 acres of land, A.J. Where exactly is south of Redstone Point are you referencing?" Robert Earl eats then chews the food.

Iredell chews then swallows the food with a grin. "Clay! Did you know this? Redstone Point received it original name from the red colored soil, in which the Southern people refer to as clay. But the newly installed military personnel referenced only the color of red."

"Red clay borders on the geographical northern side of the Tennessee River, where both houses and people are serviced by the commercial air and bus services. Vehicles buzz down Interstate-565 heading south into the heart of Huntsville or on Interstate 65 heading north back up towards metro city of Nashville. West of the Tennessee River, it is the historical town of Decatur with all the elegant buildings that had been built during the pre-Civil War era. East of the Tennessee River, the landscape nicely houses 170,000 Huntsvillians, who enjoy the road service opportunities of a concrete jungle and its paved eight lane of highway for shopping, eating, and pleasuring." A.J. eats and chews with a smile.

Robert Earl holds his fork of lamp chop and wears a stern face. "We know that. We live here, A.J.," he eats and chews with a closed mouth.

A.J. chews and then swallows the food, saying with a grin. "Northern Alabama is the heart of the Tennessee Valley Authority or TVA. TVA consists of a freshwater lake system and numerous outdoor water and land recreational spots. Geographically speaking, Redstone Point borders the lower foot points on the Appalachian Mountain Range on the east side with a flat topography footprint. On the west side, there are patches of thick forests and wild woodlands surrounding the Tennessee River that happens to flow across the entire southern boundary of Madison County which is composed of 1,742 acres of water and fish..."

"....and snakes..." Cinco frowns down at the pizza slice.

Breck nods. "Cinco hates snakes."

"How do you know so much about Civil War battles, A.J.? Aren't you a registered cowboy with a horse by your job type? Do you own a crop farm also?" Robert Earl eats and chews the food with curiosity.

A.J. had been dumped like an abandoned infant on the professional door step of Robert Earl's business office. Ever since then, A.J. has been interfering with Robert Earl's new topo-morphological research project for some odd reason.

A.J. nods with a smile, "My academic doctoral thesis had outlined the purpose and the function of the Tennessee River which runs almost but not straight across the northern land mass of Bama. I'm fascinated with the history, since it is a man-made river system. The Flint River originates inside the US State of Tennessee flowing in a southerly direction through Madison County with two major tributaries Brier Fork that flows from the northwest and Mountain Fork which flows from the northeast. An excellent source of..."

"...briers," Robert Earl laughs at the figurative and literal meaning of the nasty word. "They don't call it that name for fun."

A.J. nods with a smile. "An excellent source of briers with an extremely low water reach for paddling a canoe. The low bog is an easy float on a boat without a series of difficult water rapids to maneuver, only the pod of swimming snakes by day and the flock of flying mosquitoes by night. Numerous wind-blown and fallen trees limbs act as a protruding obstacle with ..."

"...more snakes..." Cinco eats and chews the food with an open mouth.

A.J. nods. "There is only one known geographical point, where the Tennessee River waters and the Appalachian foothills of land meet, which is, of course, an ancient legend among the local natives," he chuckles with Iredell.

"The land point contains both hidden ancient bones of dead dinosaurs and the foothills of hidden veins of coal, which is, of course, known as the Mohawk Patch summit." Robert Earl eats and chews a forkful of tiny carrots, wearing a smirk.

"In the topography footprint, a summit is a point on a land surface that stands in a higher elevation than the rest of the points adjacent to the summit. A mountain peak summit is the opposite of a valley foothill." Iredell sips and swallows the wine, wearing with a smile.

Robert Earl holds an empty wine glass and presents a sour frown. "The Mohawk Patch summit has never been found and then explored..."

"...and then raped and fucked..." Flamingo hisses. He voices the truth of Mother Nature when the race of greedy mankind and woman-kind interferes with the land, the sea, and the air as he is a true cowboy, who lives the landscape of his home in the great State of Alabama.

"We can visualize your colorful picture, Flamingo. And we can do without your colorful expressions." Robert Earl turns and frowns at Flamingo.

"And I would like to add to Flamingo's colorful portrait," Iredell smiles. "Since, I like to create my own set of fairy tale stories, too, Robert Earl. If that specific mountain summit point exists with both a combination of coal veins and oil fields, then there would be a huge explosion of big badass expensive environmental impactions to tiny Mohawk Patch. And there would be numerous heavy human footprints strolling up and down the Appalachian foothills coming from all and every cultural, archeological, and tribal groups. And all the groups of people would then protest for all the threatened and endangered mammals, species, and floral. Then there would pollution that affects our biological senses of noise, eyeballs, eardrums and nostrils. And, finally, there would be the usual horse shit piles from the US Federal Government which would result in trying to get an operational energy project off the ground here in Lacy Springs."

Robert Earl turns and frowns at Iredell. "Secret talks inside secret walls like to gossip with the real information, Iredell. The Department of Defense or DOD has already recommended moving the Drone Robotics program to the US State of Michigan. The Human Bio-robot program might be transferred to the US State of Maryland. And finally, the Combat Centric Information Systems program employs more human bodies than the mathematical summit peak of 1,387 feet on Rainbow Mountain."

"Those are only the 'gone with the wind' jobs." She laughs.

He frowns. "The loss of income jobs, the doctoral education programs, the housing units, and the health insurance coverage for employees and families along with other economic community goods and services, Iredell. The math totals to about 8,600 jobs. That's over fifty percent of the work force at the military base on Redstone Point. Then the schools, the hospitals, the restaurants, the land and property values and finally the taxes to the state will disappear."

"Then the world will implode," she smiles. "I think not, Robert Earl. We must have faith in our economy, our persons and our Bam Me," Iredell giggles.

"Naw, Grandmother. It is Burn U. Breck, Cinco, and I will start at Birmingham University during our undergraduate days. Then we will transition to Birmingham State University." Flamingo finishes the beer and then burps out loud, wearing a smile.

Robert Earl turns and smiles at Flamingo. "Birmingham University and Birmingham State University, the two colleges still engage and represent one of Alabama's fiercest sporting game rivalries. And since the turn of the century, the fiercest sporting game rival has been known as the Battle of Mohawk."

"Mohawk seems to be a repeating proper noun around Lacy Springs. I wonder." Flamingo turns and nods to Breck. Breck nods back in silence to Flamingo while pondering the same mental thought.

Robert Earl smiles, "Burn U was established in the year 1820. One year after the birth of the US State of Alabama within the newbie United States of America. Does anyone know how the university received the nickname of Burn U?"

"Yeah, it's short for Birmingham." Cinco finishes the beer and burps out loud with a silly grin.

Iredell stands upright from her chair and back steps from the table, scooting around the table, exiting out from the dining room. She heads into the kitchen with her dirty dishes in silence.

At the dining room table, Flamingo laughs, "No way, Cinco! The shorten name would have been called, Ham U," he laughs with Breck, Cinco, and A.J. Robert Earl frowns in silence at Flamingo.

"Then, tell us, the great Wizard of Ho!" Cinco laughs with Breck.

Iredell returns to the dining room and totes a new wooden serving tray. The tray displays a set of individual dishes with a slice of her homemade pecan pie. She stops and places an individual dish in front of each guest at the table. Then she sits down and starts to consume a piece of pie, listening to the new table conversation.

Flamingo nods with a laugh. "Easy! Something burned up like when our mama tried to bake a pan of brownies without the paid cook present beside her bicep." Cinco moans with a frown and waves both of his hands in the air, feeling pity for his non-domestic mother. Breck sneers at his brother for the bad joke about their mother Arie. Robert Earl nods with a smile to Flamingo in silence.

Cinco slices the pie and frowns at Flamingo. "So, what's the something that burned up, smarta...?"

"Manners here, Cinco!" Robert Earl looks down with a frown and slices the pie.

Cinco smiles, "Smart brother of mine!" He eats and chews the pie with an open mouth.

"A red barn," Flamingo smiles.

He shakes his curls with a sour frown. "You're full of horse shit, Flamingo." Cinco eats and chews the pie with an open mouth.

A.J. nods with a smile. "Flamingo, he is very precise with his academic answer. A series of horse stalls inside their red colored barn burned down to the ground coming from a vicious fire that had been accidentally set by their own team mates. As a matter of fact, the herd of horses was bred as a set of racing stallions," he eats and chews the pie in silence.

Robert Earl gasps. "I have never heard of a racing track or a group of horse racing breeders here in Alabama."

He chews and then swallows with a nod. "Horse racing has a long history on the planet coming from ancient archaeological records that date backwards to the ancient nations of Babylon, Syria, and Egypt. Both chariot style pleasure-riding and mounted steed racing events were very popular with the dead people that lived within each dead civilization. Thoroughbred racing is a sport for the aristocrats of Old South and the past and present royalty of British society, earning the title the 'sport of kings.' If I could I would bring the passion of horse racing back to Huntsville only for pleasure, not for money profit." A.J. eats and chews the pie with good manners.

"When was there horse racing in B'ham?" Flamingo frowns.

Iredell smiles, "The first record of racing a horse was documented at a Quarter horse event in the year 1674, within Henrico County, in the US State of Virginia. The horse race consisted of two horses speeding down a village dirt lane between the church yard and the tobacco fields. That's how the Quarter horse breed received its famous name by traveling a quarter mile length with the swiftest trip for a horse rider. The Quartet horse breed was developed, so each horse could get off to a quick start and then win the race."

Breck nods and chews with a pair of open lips. "Grandmother is smart."

"Quarter horse breeding isn't related to thoroughbred racing, Iredell." Robert Earl frowns.

She nods. "In the year 1665, the first racetrack was constructed in the city of Long Island within the US State of New York prompting the creation of an organized horse racing committee. 314 racing tracks operated with horse racing by the year 1890. In the year 1894, the American Jockey Club was formed to register a jock rider on top of a racing steed."

"Grandmother is smart." Cinco smiles at Iredell, slicing into the second piece of pie.

She nods. "The McCory clan claims the first birth of a thoroughbred stallion right here in Lacy Springs."

"McCory is considered the first family of Alabama, isn't that right, Grandmother?" Breck eats and chews with more open lips on another piece of pie.

"McCory Farm is the State of Alabama's oldest working plantation continually growing field crops since the year 1809. The farm harvests and profits from the fields of cotton, strawberries, tomatoes, squash, cucumbers, watermelons, and sweet corn during the summer months and wheat, oats, hay, potatoes, and soybeans, and corn during the fall months." A.J. turns and nods to Iredell.

She smiles and pats the naked hand on A.J. "Your lecture is very good, A.J."

Robert Earl frowns. "Iredell, you should not boast about a false event. You will confuse the lads."

Iredell smiles at Cinco. "Go and check out the American Jockey Club, Cinco. McCory registered the foal after its birth. Of course, that process took weeks for a single hand-written letter to arrive in metro city Nashville within the US State of Tennessee coming from a small rural settlement township here in Lacy Springs within the US State of Alabama."

Cinco whips out his mobile telephone and starts typing on the tiny screen in silence.

She continues. "Thoroughbreds vary in height which doesn't affect their greatness or their slowness. The height is measured in hands, which is four inches high on the mathematical chart. Those specific horse breeds stand as small as fifteen-hands while others are over seventeen-hands. However, a thoroughbred can travel medium distances at a very fast pace with excellent balance between speed and endurance."

Cinco reads out loud from the tiny screen on his phone. "Listen up! In the year 1812, the Nashville Jockey Club was established registering all breeds coming from the US States of Mississippi, Alabama, Tennessee, and Georgia. The data from the small town of Lacy Springs within the US State of Alabama states the name of the thoroughbred horse is called Mohawk Patch. Mohawk Patch was sixteen-hands high and registered in the year 1821 to the family name of McCory on August 18 in the year 1821."

Breck smiles, "Grandmother is smart."

Cinco continues to read out loud the new information on the tiny screen of his mobile telephone for all eardrums. "Here's more datum, ya'll. In the year 1810, the oldest son of the McCory clan built a log cabin beside the carriage house and the blacksmith shop that occupied thirty acres of land. The log cabin provided boarding the horses from each one of his friendly neighbors plus his own private stock of racing thoroughbreds. While training his thoroughbred horse on the small dirt track that ran around the edge of the cotton field, his dream suddenly faded into dust on that particular day, when he beat, in a friendly thoroughbred horse race, one of his unfriendly neighbors. Then, the unfriendly neighbor shot McCory right between the eyeballs with his hand pistol. The article is dated in the month of September of the year 1821."

"That's fucks." Flamingo frowns.

"That's sucks." Breck frowns.

"Manners, Flamingo!" Robert Earl frowns.

"Poor McCory!" Cinco exhales.

"Poor Flamingo!" Breck chuckles.

Robert Earl frowns. "We are off track from the original discussion. Why did they burn the red colored barn down into the soil with a herd of expensive thoroughbred horses? That serious murderous action does not make any sense to me."

A.J. smiles, "Because Mohawk, the named and infamous horse steed, was housed inside that particular barn."

Iredell continues. "The grieving father of dead son McCory was both sadden and anger by his son's untimely and stupid death. So, he donated the young trotter and its mother mare to the new university. During the evening time at the pre-football game, a bonfire was flamed for the event that contained wild celebrating and two-step dancing of humans, not horses, before the big daytime game. A silly bunch of drunken rednecks were not interested in the race, but more interested in the collection of fine precious thoroughbreds. So, they visited the unguarded stables. One of the careless Burn U students dropped down a lit cigar which immediately torched the second level hay loft and then rows of interior stalls of live horses quickly burning down the private-owned, red-colored horse barn. The fire swiftly spread and engulfed the structure. Each one of the horse groomsmen, the attendees of the game activities, and finally the thoroughbred owners were too drunk partying there at the fiery bonfire. Afterwards, all the school mates became divided with guilty blame. So, the new school split off and created the Birmingham Agriculture University which carried off the veterinary school and a new herd of horses. Some of the new students enrolled as future law students forming the new School of Law also."

A.J. smiles, "The Birmingham Agriculture University added a division of mechanical specialties for repairing and developing all the new farm implements, such as, tractors, plows, harvesters, and pickers, since the US State of Alabama was known as the 'king of cotton' as well. Therefore, the university again changed their name to the new Birmingham A and M which sparked the nicknamed that came from the three capital letters of BAM for..."

"Bam Me! It's the famous war cry from the other Bama college," Flamingo laughs. Cinco reaches over and then shoves Flamingo off the chair, laughing out loud.

Flamingo tumbles toward the side of the dining room chair with a sneer and then sits upright, slamming a fist back into the chest on Cinco with a loud grunt. They both start a fist fighting at the table with a set of low growls and a set of swishing noises.

"Behave, boys!" Iredell frowns at her two energetic grandsons.

Breck nods with a chuckle. "I've heard that war cheer of Bam Me for years, not really understanding the proper history behind the two words. That's an excellent story, Grandmother!"

"Battle of the Mohawk began the next fall in the year 1822. The two rivals within the football game drew undivided and devoted attention coming from some of the state-boundary governors, surrounding city mayors, a few United State senators, and some coaches from the other universities. The college rivalry soon spread off the football game field infiltrating each mindset of every teenage male into a series of extra-curricular events while spiraling into the formation of silly pranks. There were a few mascot abductions, destructive vandalism of property and a mysterious unsolved murder. The football game each year brings with it a flash of the past and a dash of exhilaration that units the entire city of Birmingham and surrounding communities within Alabama into a much-anticipated week in early November. However, this is..."

"...the home of the rednecks," Cinco laughs. "Where..."

"...the balls, the beer, and the brawls reign supreme, young southern gentlemen and gentle ladies." A.J. stands upright from the chair with a smile and lifts his empty wine glass in celebration of the Bama life.

"Yeehaw!" Cinco stands upright from his chair and raises an empty blue tinted tumbler in the air, nodding with a smile.

Flamingo and Breck, both stand upright from the chair and lift their empty colored tumbler in the air with a smile. Each one slams an empty tumbler without cold beer into each other while laughing out loud with amusement.

Iredell continues to sit and softly claps with a giggle at her three entertaining grandsons.

Robert Earl continues to sit and frowns with annoyance at his three grandsons and his co-worker A.J.
Wednesday September 17th

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of bright sunshine

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Barn yard and flat grass setting

06:06:06 am

Breck struts ahead with a smile to a row of two parked tan colored terrain vehicles.

In the first terrain vehicle, his grandpa Jarvis Dunlap and his new friend A.J. Bibb sit slightly apart on the top of the soft worn tan colored leather bench waiting to start the wilderness journey toward the turkey site which is located on the outskirts of the Balegreen cow ranch.

The turkey site is a place of fun the hunters and fear for the turkeys standing in complete isolation from the herds of grazing cows and individual crazy stallion and their mares, where a hunting rifle explodes its modern-day gun powder.

Each turkey hunter wears a set of matching camouflage gear in the colors of green, tan, white, and black in a pattern of wiggling vertical and horizontal tiny circles of hue, consisting of a baseball cap and a long-sleeved, buttoned shirt. A pair of matching camouflage long trousers is tucked down into a pair of black or brown colored cowboy boots. The camouflage clothing hides the hunting crew and blends each hunter into a background of a matching tan, green, and brown colored woodland scenery while quietly stalking a single turkey.

Breck has promised a fresh turkey for the dinner table tomorrow night, after the triplet brothers have plucked it clean, this afternoon. Then the house staff will cook and prepare the dead fresh turkey for a grand fest inside the dining room table for the Balegreen family relatives.

Each pleasure turkey hunter carries a hunting rifle resting inside its wooden transport box that is tightly strapped down on top of the tiny trunk behind the rear bench seat on each terrain vehicle. The terrain vehicle also totes bottled water for a dry throat, food snacks for a hungry stomach, a first-aid kit for a wounded arm, and three camouflage-decorated dry weather blankets for a tender fanny.

The turkey hunt starts in the early morning hours on top of the cool wet grass as each turkey hunter kisses a pair of binoculars and hugs a fire extinguisher near a hip bone, in case of trouble within the woodlands.

Inside the second terrain vehicle, new friend A.J. had supplied a cooler of twelve cold bottles of beers, four for each triplet. But their mother Arie didn't need to know that cool information.

Breck stops and stands at the rear on the second terrain vehicle, which is designated for the triplets. His eyeballs cut side to side searching the barn yard of short green grass and small patches of red clay dirt for a misplaced Flamingo.

Flamingo is supposed to be driving the jacked-up, ugly, tan colored station wagon to the barn yard, but he is running very late for the start of the hunting trip, which is becoming fifteen minutes late.

At the rear of the second terrain vehicle, Breck turns and mouth spits into the nose profile on the un-matching camouflage-painted black and tan colors on Cinco. "If that boy ain't here in three more minutes, then he can walk to the turkey site and miss all the fireworks. What's taking our bro so long? Was Flamingo up when you left the house, Cinco?"

"Yup," Cinco stands at the rear of the vehicle with the trunk open. He wears a smile and rearranges all the gun boxes around the cooler of beer for easy access.

"Is the third terrain vehicle gassed, in case Flamingo needs to drive that one, Cinco?"

"Yup," he slams the trunk down with a nod.

At 06:11 a.m., a flat tenor song from the roaring engine cuts into the musical harmony of singing birds in the green trees beside the red tinted barn. Flamingo slowly steers Arie's white tinted pickup truck towing a third terrain vehicle inside the flat truck bed. The truck wiggles like an earthworm side to side over each rough pothole in the clay dirt. He slows and then stops the truck about fifty feet from the second terrain vehicle.

Breck and Cinco swiftly move ahead towards the parked pickup truck. Flamingo quickly emerges out from the driver's seat with a sour frown and a string of soft curse words, swinging to face the rear passenger door, opening the door.

Robert Earl slides off first from the rear bench seat in Arie's personal vehicle and then stands upright on top of the short grass, scooting sideways, smiling with a nod to Flamingo in silence. Then Darrel glides out next from the rear passenger seat, standing upright on top of the short grass beside Robert Earl, smiling at Flamingo in silence.

On top of the patch of red clay dirt, Cinco and Breck both halt and gasp in a shocking stare.

Each new guest displays a set of matching camouflage gear in the colors black, tan, and white including a baseball cap, and a long-sleeved shirt. A pair of trouser is tucked down a pair of new shiny black tinted cowboy boots.

Flamingo moves ahead with a sour frown and whispers a set of soft string of curse words, marching ahead towards the rear of the truck bed and then stops. He reaches out and drops down the tail gate while still snarling at the two new guests and then leaping onto the bed, starting to slowly unload a third terrain vehicle in golden hue.

Earlier this morning, Flamingo had dashed down the staircase from his bedroom running late for the hunting trip and ran into his mother, his grandfather, and the new guest at the cow ranch inside the entrance hall. Then Flamingo engaged in a violent verbal debate with his mother Arie and lost the teenly argument as he was forced to drive both Darrel and Robert Earl to the rendezvous spot for the morning turkey hunt, without the cold barrel of a shotgun in his face.

At the barn yarn setting, on top of the patch of red clay dirt, Breck marches straight to Robert Earl and wears a worried brow. Cinco moves with Breck heading towards Darrel, producing a soft sneer and a sour frown. They both halt and stand in front of the two adults.

Breck continues to wear a worried brow and then whines with a sissy tenor. "Granddaddy, do you really wanna go turkey shooting with us this morning?"

Robert Earl smiles with a nod, extending his handshake to Breck. Breck shakes and then releases the hand in silence. Robert Earl extends both of his arms even with the ground and says with a smile. "Yes, I would enjoy spending time with my three grandsons," he reaches over and gently slaps the back spine on Darrel, nodding to Breck, slapping the other arm down onto his new pair of camouflage trousers. "And I brought along my new friend Darrel too. He'll enjoy this fun bout with you, lads for the morning activity. Since, I have allowed each one of you to substitute a hunting sport for your academic lecture today." Darrel continues to stand and displays a black painted face with a silly grin in silence.

Cinco parks both of his hands on his hips and sneers at Darrel. "Can you really shoot a gun, dude?"

"I am currently employed by the military to shoot a gun during wartime only." Darrel laughs with a nod.

"Can you really shoot a live turkey with a loaded gun of live bullets, Darrel?" Cinco exhales with annoyance at the new guest.

Inside the first terrain vehicle, Jarvis Dunlap and A.J. Bibb slide out from the front bench seat, shuffling around the vehicle, swiftly dashing ahead to the quartet, feeling a ting of worry.

A.J. stops and scoots ahead with a grin standing beside Cinco.

Jarvis stops and stands in-between Cinco and Breck, extending a handshake and a smile to Robert Earl first. "Good early morning to ya'll, Robert Earl and Darrel. How was the horse race yesterday, son?" Darrel had escorted his daughter Arie for the fun event as it was Arie's first social date since her marriage to Breck, Junior.

"Good morning to you, Mr. Dunlap. Arie and I had a wonderful time. I'm hoping to enjoy the same social event next year also with your daughter," Darrel smiles, shakes and then releases the handshake of Jarvis, dropping the arm down onto his new pair of camouflage trousers.

Cinco snorts out loud with a sour frown, shaking his curls, watching the facial expression on Darrel. He wishes that Darrel would verbally or physically attack him. Then Cinco can beat his ass back home to wherever. That will be the end of the boyfriend experience for his mother Arie.

"Hello, Jarvis! Arie give us her verbal permission to join this little woodland outdoor adventure this morning, since I am allowing the lads to miss their academic class lecture for the day." Robert Earl nods to Jarvis and then turns with a puzzled brow to see A.J. "Dr. Bibb, I am very stunned and surprised to see you here on the family hunting trip."

"Mr. Dunlap was kind enough to invite me, when we met yesterday." A.J. nods with a smile to Robert Earl.

"When you met yesterday with Jarvis? What does that represent?" Robert Earl turns and frowns to Jarvis.

"I'm a cowboy first. Don't you remember me telling you that, Dr. Balegreen? And I'm a crop farmer at heart, but I'm an animal hunter in my soul," he laughs with the others and then clears his throat with a nod to Robert Earl. "We performed some farm business with Miss Arie yesterday here at the cow ranch. Farming is my side line business, if you will." A.J. nods with a smile.

"I still don't see." Robert Earl exhales with annoyance.

A.J. is the work employee on Redstone Point that annoys the runny shit out of Robert Earl's butt-hole during each working hour. Now, A.J. is here at the ranch also and travels with the Balegreen hunting crew during the fun family adventure.

Robert Earl reaches down and presses the iron and pressed camouflage ugly long-sleeved shirt with both of his hands with nervousness, wearing a stern face.

In the close distance away from the parked pickup truck, driver Flamingo slowly performs a putt-putt inside a third terrain vehicle and then stops, parking the transport directly behind the ass on Darrel, killing the engine, sliding out from the driver's seat. He stands upright with a soft sneer at the back spine on Darrel and then slowly advances towards the two lines, laughing with amusement. He stops and stands beside A.J., softly sneering at Darrel while secretly wishing the short and handsome adult male would attack his teenly person with or without a noble or nasty cause. Then, Flamingo would beat the shit out of Darrel's ass with one strong teenly bicep. That will be the end of any boyfriend presence near his mother Arie.

A.J. turns and smiles at the distorted face and then the naked neckline on smart-ass teen Flamingo, dropping his mouth open and then curls his lips into a smirk, staring at the object of manly desire. "I like your turkey claws. I'd never thought about creating an Indian brave neckline like that," he points at the necklace which is made of dead turkey parts. Flamingo had whacked off each turkey spurs and created a hunter neckline.

A circle of fourteen individual blackish-brown long sharp pointy claws is stitched in-between a purple-tinted, square-shaped, smooth-looking individual bead. The turkey neckline hangs from the naked throat down to the top of his breastbone over a solid black short-sleeved shirt that displays a vile single nasty word that starts with a white tinted capital letter of F on the front of his deltoids.

Flamingo turns and grins at A.J. "Thanks, man! I'd be a non-dick today and I'll let you have all the pointy spurs from our tom kill."

Robert Earl turns and frowns at Flamingo. "Manners..."

"Gentlemen!" Jarvis turns and smiles to each hunter. "I believe we're ready to begin our trip. I'll lead ya'll and the line of other terrain vehicles towards a place which is called Willow's Blanket. It is about five miles out due west of the ranch house. It is about a fifteen-minute road trip. It's a rich thicket of oaks, pines, and maple trees that is surrounded by a series of low dense bushes and far, far away from the herd of grazing livestock. Since Arie would tan my hide, if I make her horses inside the parallel pasture fields rear and then run towards their individual barn stall in both fear and fright. We can shoot all day long out there in both peace and safety. Nobody will be around for miles, but the turkey toms and his queens. We select this specific turkey site over there for this specific purpose of fun hunting and good eating. So, we just sit out there and wait for Mr. Tom to come and loudly gobble near our nesting den. Let's see!"

He turns and then visually examines each hunter, giving a nod of approval. "We are almost dressed for the turkey adventure. Each one must wear a hard helmet that looks and feels like a motorcycle helmet. There is a hidden microphone built into the headset, so I can communicate with each driver and each passenger over the rough dirt trail. We will zoom ahead at thirty miles per hour. No faster! Arie don't like us buzzing the herd of cows either, when we zoom by in the fun terrain vehicles either," he laughs with his triplet grandsons.

Jarvis exhales with a smile. "The rough dirt trail is really rough and rowdy. The dirt road is really a farm tractor road, mostly for transporting all the farm equipment between each crop field. Sometimes, a good thunderstorm will wash out some of hard red clay soil, leaving a great big pothole of nothing but nothing. If you don't see it, then your guts will feel it for shore inside this little tiny truck-thing. Ain't that right, boys?" He laughs with his triplet grandsons. Darrel and Robert Earl stare with a stern face at Jarvis.

Jarvis slaps his chest with a nod. "I lead. Darrel, you drive Robert Earl and follow behind my rear bump but keep the tiny truck fifteen feet back from my rear bumper. Breck is the driver for the triplets and comes up the rear of Darrel's tiny truck. Then, we all stop and park each tiny truck outside the thicket of woods. Each tiny truck is equipped with the necessary hunting gear to set up our nesting den for the sneaky stalking of Mr. Tom. Does everyone get it? Good! We're fighting against the sunlight and the heat. Let's move out and find our turkey tom. Then we celebrate later," he nods to each hunter and then slowly back steps, spinning around and moves with A.J. towards the first terrain vehicle.

"Yes sir!" Cinco nods with a grin and then spins around with Breck, slowly moving back to the third terrain vehicle.

Flamingo marches ahead with a stern face towards the rear seat on Arie's pickup truck, stops, and opens the rear passenger door. He leans inside with a puzzled brow and reaches out, lifting a black tinted leather golf bag in the air that contains a loose stash of real weapons. He slides the golf bag from the floor and then gently sits upright on the dirt, studying each weapon with puzzlement. He shouts out loud for the eardrums of Robert Earl and Darrel. "What the fuck is this here, Granddaddy?"

Robert Earl and Darrel slowly move away from the row of terrain vehicles and the other hunters, stopping and then stand beside Flamingo and a black tinted golf bag in silence while watching the performance.

Inside the new black leather golf bag, each weapon sits on its butt end as each barrel tip dangerously smiles up into the nostrils on Flamingo.

Flamingo reaches down with a snarl and gently lifts the first long-barreled rifle from the bag and away from his sneer, holding it in the empty air space. He lowers the weapon and then gently hugs the gun butt and stock underneath his armpit, double-checking the safety which is off. He views the magazine which is loaded with live bullets. He reaches down and jerks each bullet out from the gun tray.

"No live ammo, dumbass, while traveling over hazardous earth terrain! Diarrhea, are you stupid or what?" He doesn't look at Darrel but lowers the first shotgun down toward the ground, resting it in the dirt. Then he stands upright and reaches out for a second weapon, a twenty-gauge automatic pump-action shotgun.

Robert Earl continues to stand beside Darrel and sneers at his grandson. "Gentleman behavior is called for here even in the wilderness, Flamingo. Darrel was showing me the use of the gun. I guess that he forgot to unload the weapon, after his firearm lecture to me."

Beside the truck, Flamingo lifts the second rifle, saying with a firm tone and a stern face. "You can't use the twelve or twenty-gauge shotguns. We want to eat the cooked breast on the turkey, not just one of his drum stick legs." He empties out the live ammunition out from the twenty-two-gauge long rifle, lifting it upright in the air by the safety plate. "You can use the twenty-two-gauge long rifle, only. And try to hit the tom in the skull, only. Do you get it now, only?" Darrel continues to smile at Flamingo without answering.

"Go and get in the passenger seat of the terrain vehicle, Granddaddy! I'll tie the golf bag down inside the trunk as you travel behind my Grandpa Dunlap at less than thirty miles per hour, only." Flamingo orders to Darrel.

Darrel and Robert Earl slowly spin around and shuffle back to the parked terrain vehicle while softly whispering into each other face.

Flamingo exhales with annoyance gently placing the empty rifle on its butt-end back down into the leather golf bag, carefully lifting the bag onto his collar bone and then moves ahead. He stops and stands at the rear of the vehicle, opening the trunk, sliding the horizontal bag inside the tiny space. He tightly wraps a black tinted net web around the golf bag for security and then gently shuts the trunk. Flamingo back steps from the rear of the vehicle, reaching over, banging on the rooftop for the go signal. Driver Darrel jolts the terrain vehicle into a forward motion and then stops behind the rear bump on Jarvis' vehicle.

Flamingo watches in silence and then squats down with a sneer, grabbing each item, lifting the two empty shotguns and all the unused shells into his arms and shirt pockets from the short grass blades. He stands upright from the grass and then turns, slowly moving ahead and stops beside Arie's pickup truck. He opens the rear passenger door, gently dumping both rifles and the loose ammunition down into the floorboard, since no one will bother Arie's pickup truck or Darrel's guns on her private farmland.

Flamingo believes the two rifles belong to Darrel from the wartime experience in the US military, because Robert Earl does not hunt or possesses any type of firearms.

He carefully slams the truck door keeping the truck unlocked with the car keys in the ignition and scoots sideway, standing beside the front passenger door. Flamingo opens the door and then pulls off the ass-backwards baseball cap, dropping it on the leather seat. He reaches out and grabs the black tinted terrain helmet, sliding over his skull, back stepping from the truck cab. He closes the door and then spins around racing back towards his assigned terrain vehicle with his two brothers Breck and Cinco.

Inside the first terrain vehicle, driver Jarvis sits in the seat and says through the microphone inside his helmet. "Flamingo, please call in."

"Present." Flamingo answers back into the built-in microphone inside his individual helmet.

Driver Jarvis continues, "Good! Every microphone works. Everyone, please web tightly into your seat. Then start your engines and follow my rear bumper." He kicks the terrain vehicle into a forward motion with a jolt smoothly driving in a western direction over the smooth carpet of green grass.

Inside the last terrain vehicle, driver Breck sits behind the wheel and watches with a stern face, wearing the black tinted helmet.

Driver Jarvis slowly steers ahead and away from the red tinted barn. In the second tiny truck, driver Darrel swiftly steers and slams on the taillight and riding the rear bumper on Jarvis' vehicle.

Breck presses the gasoline pedal and then steers fifteen feet behind the rear bumper on Darrel, lifting his black tinted leather gloved hand in the air and spreads his four fingers for the eyesight of each brother, only. He silently orders each brother to press the head gear toggle to Channel Four for a private communication between the triplets, only.

His mother Arie purchases the "bestest" electronic equipment that her billions can buy including a leather-cushioned terrain vehicle for each triplet son that comes with a double-shock suspension and a pair of ABS brakes for stopping the vehicle on a dime. And an individual satellite telephone on top of the tiny truck cab console for an emergency or a direct communication contact with Arie as she sits at the breakfast table with her mom-in-law Iredell and worries about her three sons on a simple hunting trip with adult supervision.

On the tractor trail, each hunter wears a hard helmet in dull black hue which possesses a built-in microphone for a communicate message directly with Arie at the ranch house on Channel Two. A private communication frequency of less than three feet on Channel Four allows a private conversation with another buddy.

Inside the third terrain vehicle, Flamingo and Cinco quickly switch the toggle to number four on the outside panel on their helmet and then presents a thumbs-up signal to their older brother Breck in silence.

Breck reaches down and touches one of four silver tinted buttons that activates the Channel One frequency. The tiny voice of Jarvis echoes inside the open cab drowning out each pair of eardrums on every grazing cow inside the green tinted pasture. _"There are cotton fields on your left..."_

Breck reaches over and turns down the volume on cab radio, in case the hunter doesn't want to hear the jabber of many voices going into each eardrum within the helmet. He softly chuckles into the hidden microphone, inside his helmet, on Channel Four to each brother. "I'm glad you're going be the dumbass physician, instead of the brilliant lawyer, Flamingo. You couldn't argue your ass out of a paper bag or con our mama out of a cup of sweet sugar."

Front passenger Flamingo sits next to Breck and says with a sour frown into the hidden microphone inside his helmet. "Diarrhea brought both a twelve-gauge and a twenty-gauge shotgun to our fun turkey party."

"Fuck!" Cinco sits in the rear bench seat and then leans his upper body and helmet over the front seat leather, hissing into the hidden microphone. "Did you...?"

"...leave both guns inside Mama's truck? I gave him the twenty-two-gauge shotgun." Flamingo frowns.

He exhales, "That's a stupid-o move, Flamingo. You should've left both the twenty-two and the dumbass behind."

"Mama overruled me. I almost got away from Darrel too. I dashed down the stairs from my room and then collided into the face of Diarrhea," he laughs with his two brothers. "Well, I lied. I missed the face of Diarrhea and gently slammed into the petite body of our mama, moving her away from the big ass and the ugly face on Diarrhea. Then Mama and I saw Granddaddy Balegreen exit from the hallway."

"Why does Granddaddy Balegreen hang with Diarrhea anyways?" Cinco frowns.

"Because Diarrhea is the first social date with our mama, since she was...was ten years old, after she had fallen down on top of our daddy and then in love with our daddy." Breck frowns.

Cinco smiles, "Wow! That's a very, very long, long time."

Breck continues to drive and wears a smile. The helmet is too heavy to toss his skull side to side around in the air. "She told me. She fell over our daddy and then fell in love all at the same time. She didn't bother to date any boy when she had been given permission to date our daddy at the age of fifteen years old."

Cinco smiles, "Wow! That's a very, very long, long time, too."

Flamingo frowns. "And Diarrhea is going to be the last social date for our mama, after we burn his butt here at the turkey hunting trip. As I was telling, Granddaddy Balegreen was wearing a new set of camouflage gear that matched Diarrhea's. I tried to leave without them. But Mama took 'no' for her final answer. I did some fast complaining along with some great baby whining. But, alas..."

"No, Diarrhea!" Driver Breck slams on the brake pedal with a sneer almost stopping the terrain vehicle without hitting the rear bumper on Darrel's trunk. He frowns. "Go through the dry puddle of dirt, asshole!" Of course, Darrel could not hear the nasty remark as Breck is talking only with his two brothers on the new communication frequency inside the helmet.

In the second tiny truck, driver Darrel slams down on the brake pedal and then slowly scoots around a shallow pothole of dry dirt.

In the first tiny truck, driver Jarvis sees the delay of the transport parade through the rearview mirror and then slows his vehicle, so Darrel and Breck can catch up.

Driver Darrel slowly crawls beside the shallow pothole and then presses down on the gasoline pedal, swiftly steering ahead while tail gating too close at the rear bumper on Jarvis' terrain vehicle.

Driver Jarvis presses down on the gasoline pedal and then steers swiftly away from annoyant Darrel.

In the third tiny truck, driver Breck presses down on the gasoline pedal and then steers ahead, staying twenty feet behind the rear bumper on Darrel's vehicle, without causing an accident.

"You should've peed on the grass, Flamingo." Cinco laughs.

"Like, I did when I was three years old. Then our mama won't have let me go on the hunting shoot. Period!" Flamingo frowns. "I'm sorry! I really tried ya'll."

"You can't fight Mama or Mother Nature." Breck exhales with defeat breathing into the microphone as he sees and hears Flamingo's point of view.

"How many bullets are left in clip on the twenty-two-gauge shotgun, Flamingo?" Cinco frowns.

"I left him two bullets," Flamingo frowns.

"Two, too many, bro. You should have left him zero bullets." Cinco exhales.

"Or you should've damaged the gun." Breck frowns.

"I had three seconds to damage a gun, Breck. Shit! I'm not superman. I'd need a hammer, at least, man." Flamingo stomps his boot heel down onto the clean floorboard presenting a sour frown.

"Flamingo's right. You can't break a gun with human strength and leaving only two rounds will go straight into the hard dirt. I bet Darrel can't shoot the side wall on our red barn either. You performed a good noble deed for three seconds of work, dude," Cinco smiles.

"Thanks, man." Flamingo frowns.

Breck exhales, "All right! Inside Willow's Blanket, there are three good posted shooting spots. We give Granddaddy and Diarrhea the best hunting spot."

Cinco gasps, "Naw."

"Stow it, Cinco!" Flamingo frowns.

Breck exhales. "We give up our best hunting spot while making our mama happy and making up for Flamingo's asshole performance with Diarrhea."

"Hey! I like performing my asshole-ness to and on and beside Diarrhea. We should place him on the hilltop overlooking Willow's Blanket, so his ass roasts there in the late morning sunshine," Flamingo chuckles.

Breck frowns. "I like that fine idea, but our mama will not, since she's a country girl. She knows each low valley and high hilltop peak way better than us, after Diarrhea goes and then tattle-tails his displeasure from our turkey dance into her pretty face."

Flamingo sneers. "Man, I hate catering to his ass. When are we making him disappear?"

Cinco whines in sissy tenor. "Mama likes him."

"And our mama likes for me to dump my nasty ass-baseball cap in the trashcan, which ain't going to happen ever." Flamingo laughs.

"Today, bro, we make Diarrhea disappear!" Breck drives and sniggers into the microphone. "After we bag a big tom, then we invite Diarrhea to pluck the feathers and cut up the raw meat for our supper meal for tomorrow night and make him a spur neckline to boot his ass off our land. He ain't no real cowboy. So, we simply show our mama that he ain't nothing but a stupid city slicker, without a steel stomach. Since, his inner lunch guts will be decorating the edge on our manicured lawn beside the pretty flower garden," he laughs with his two brothers.

"Great idea, Breck! You really are developing into a sleazy lawyer," Flamingo smiles.

He continues to steer and lifts one finger in the air that represents the math number one and silently orders each brother to switch back to communication Channel One. He spins the same finger down toward the console and turns off the radio button, slapping the same hand back onto the wiggling steering wheel while following behind the rear bumper on Darrel's vehicle.

Inside the first terrain vehicle, the deep voice on A.J. laughs into the hidden microphone inside his helmet that echoes into the eardrum of each hunter. "That's another good household tip, Darrel. Keep this in mind before you burn your new house residence down a second time. Never use the chemicals of bleach and ammonia at the same time. It creates a toxic gas that will cause you to suffocate. Okay!" He laughs with the other voices.

The voice of Jarvis says through the hidden microphone inside his helmet that echoes to the other eardrums. "Learn to use a set of jumper cables too."

The voice of A.J. says to each pair of eardrums. "The only alcohol you should ever drink straight from a bottle is beer. Doing otherwise, it will land your ass inside a sterile hospital or worse inside a pine-smelling box."

The voice of Robert Earl says into the microphone inside his helmet that echoes into the other eardrums. "No one knows what they want to be when they grow up, so go and get a college degree."

The voice of Darrel says into the microphone. "The only thing you wash with white clothes is white clothes."

Inside the first terrain vehicle, driver Jarvis slams down on the red tinted taillights and then slows the speed, stopping the terrain vehicle in front of a row of thick, dark brown tree trunks with an overstory canopy of green tinted leaves. The row of tall trees blocks the flat meadow site from eyeball on the northern side of the forest.

Inside the second terrain vehicle, driver Darrel doesn't slow the speed but presses down on the brake pads, sliding sideways, and finally stops, parking beside Jarvis. He and Robert Earl laugh inside the helmet that echoes to each pair of eardrums also.

In the third terrain vehicle, driver Breck slows the speed and then gently presses down on the brake pedal, performing a slow putt-putt maneuver, carefully parking the tiny truck a few feet away from Darrel in the same row.

In the first tiny truck, driver Jarvis continues to sit and kills the engine. A.J. slides out from front seat with a stern face and stands upright on top of the short grass, still wearing the black tinted helmet.

Jarvis slides out from the driver's chair and stands upright on top of the short grass while still wearing his black tinted helmet. He says into the microphone to each hunter. "Now, keep your helmet on top of your skull while we go around set up each hunting den. We don't want our loud voice to echo around the flat hollow. A turkey possesses excellent vision and acute hearing and view 270 degrees within their eye sight." Each hunter exits the transport, moves ahead and then stops, standing in a semi-huddle before Jarvis.

Jarvis moves ahead toward the rear bench and then stops, reaching out, zipping open a large black bag. He gathers up a set of camouflage vests into both of his arms and then spins around, handing a vest to Robert Earl, Darrel, and A.J. in silence.

He slides the vest over his camouflage long-sleeved shirt, saying into the helmet's microphone. "A spooked turkey can run at 20 miles-per-hour and burst into flight approaching speeds of 50 miles-per-hour in a matter of seconds. We have selected this flat hollow because the gang of turkeys eats around scattered grove of hardwood forests that offers a nice grassy sunlight opening. They sleep in these trees that surround us at night. And they fly to their feeding grounds at sunlight, feeding until mid-morning. Once we're tucked into our nesting den, we should be hearing their gobbling call. This part is really important here. Our individual turkey vest has a set of blazed orange panels which distinguish us from the turkey. Look at each other!" He turns and examines each hunter, seeing Flamingo, who wears only his black tinted T-shirt with the single vile word on the front, saying into the microphone. "Flamingo, boy, where's your turkey vest?"

"Yes sir!" Flamingo spins around with a stern face and hustles back to the third terrain vehicle, grabbing up his turkey vest from the rear seat. He spins around and slides the vest over his black tinted shirt, rushing back to the huddle while hearing the spoken words of Jarvis through his black tinted motorcycle helmet.

In front of the row of tiny trunks, Jarvis stands in the huddle and says through the microphone pressing down both of his hands down his turkey vest. "The bullet proof turkey vest will protect you against a couple of shotgun blasts. But I do not want to test that stupid theory here. Neither does Breck, isn't that correct, Breck?"

Flamingo returns and stands beside his brother Breck in silence while listening to the lecture from Jarvis like always during each hunting activity.

"Yes sir!" Breck stands in-between his brother Cinco and Flamingo, clearly answering into the helmet's microphone wearing his turkey vest.

Jarvis says through the microphone to each pair of eardrums. "Never stalk a turkey. Period! You will get into an accident. Then I gotta explain the why to my daughter Arie. Isn't that right, Cinco?"

"Right, Granddaddy." Cinco smiles and says into the helmet's microphone.

Jarvis smiles to each hunter. "The gobbler's head is white with a long red neck. Aim at the neck or head, not the black parts. We don't carry a turkey whistle, since we just watch and wait in silence. These woodlands are sprinkled with insects and berries for our toms and queens to eat and breed like chicks. Boys, go and set up Robert Earl and..."

"Grandpa, we're going to give Darrel and Granddaddy Balegreen our prime hunting spot which is due south right in front of the grassy opening. The tom will strut right in front of your face. You can't miss him." Breck turns and smiles at Robert Earl.

"That's mighty kind, boys." Jarvis smiles at his three grandsons.

Cinco grins. "We'll take the southeast post, Grandpa. We're work on our gun skills, since our dumb brother Flamingo can't hit the side of the red tinted barn, without his pair of eye glasses."

"Bullshit! I got a set of perfect vision like my younger baby triplet brother." Flamingo sneers into the helmet's microphone.

"Flamingo, go and help Robert Earl and Darrel set up their nesting den. A.J. and I, we'll take the southwest ridge," he thumbs back over his collar bone at the side of the tall hilltop nodding with a smile then drops his hand, slapping his trousers. "It's not much higher than ten feet or so. We'll get a clear shot, if that tom crosses our eyesight path also. Let's go, A.J." Jarvis swings around and advances back towards his assigned terrain vehicle. A.J. continues to wear the black tinted motorcycle helmet and spins around, following the back spine on Jarvis, sliding back down into the front passenger seat.

Jarvis starts the engine on the tiny trunk and then slowly performs a putt-putt over the short grass, turning into the mountain side, moving up the sloped hillside in silence.

Breck and Cinco spin around together and move away from the huddle, strolling ahead together back to their assigned terrain vehicle and then stop. They each pull out their hunting gear, setting up their individual nesting den that three brothers will share.

On the ground, Flamingo spins around with a stern face and advances towards the second parked terrain vehicle. Robert Earl and Darrel slowly spin around and follow the back spine on Flamingo as ordered by Jarvis.

Flamingo stops at the rear bumper on the second terrain vehicle and opens the trunk, reaching down, gently tugging the webbing net free from the parked golf bag. He reaches down and grabs standing the leather golf bag on top of the short grass, carefully lifting the twenty-two-gauge long rifle in the air. He reaches over and slowly hands the weapon to Darrel with great respect and care for the dangerous object.

Darrel stands beside Robert Earl and accepts the rifle with a smile in silence from Flamingo.

Flamingo reaches down and fiddles inside each side pocket on the golf bag for the live ammunition, withdrawing out two caliber bullets," he lifts and holds up the two bullets in the air near his single eyeball in silence wearing a stern face then drops them down into Darrel's gloved hand. He places the golf bag back down into the open trunk space slamming the lid shut in silence without perturbing Mother Nature and his Grandfather Dunlap. He slowly back steps from the closed trunk and then moves ahead, stopping at the rear bench seat on the same tiny trunk, leaning down, pulling out a large travel bag with a shoulder strap.

Robert Earl and Darrel smile and slowly follow the back spine on Flamingo and then stop in silence standing beside the teen.

The travel bag contains three weather blankets. Each blanket is camouflaged and designed to keep an ass dry from the wet grass and wet tree leaves while each hunter sits on top of the warm blanket inside the nesting den and patiently waits for Mr. Tom to arrive at his new killing party.

Flamingo does not spin around but swings the travel bag to Darrel. Darrel accepts the heavy travel bag of blankets with a soft grunt and a sour frown, sliding the item over his collar bone.

Flamingo leans down and grabs lifting a portal plastic cooler containing a set of cold beverages and dry snacks in the air, handing the plastic camouflage painted black, green, and tan item to Darrel also.

Darrel wears a puzzled brow and stands beside Flamingo, tucking his rifle underneath his empty armpit, accepting the heavy container of drinks and snacks, sounding with another heavy grunt of manly pain.

Flamingo stands upright with a pair of empty hands and then back steps from the trunk, spinning around with a smile and silence nod face facing his Grandfather Balegreen. He reaches out and offers his naked forearm guiding his elderly granddaddy around the rough terrain and numerous exposed tree low branches which are scattered around the grove of trees, where the wild turkeys hunt and breed.

Robert Earl spins around and accepts the strong limb on his grandson with a nod, slowing moving ahead with Flamingo.

Darrel takes up the rear end position and follows the back spine on Robert Earl and Flamingo in silence, toting an armful of hunting gear, wearing a sour frown.

Over the smooth grass, Flamingo stumbles each boot toe into a dense patch of low-lying, green-tinted, prickly plant bushes while carefully guiding his granddaddy through the next green and brown tinted patch of roughage. Then, they both emerge onto a flat grassy clearing made of low-growing grass blades which is sprinkled with patches of colorful wildflowers.

On top of the ten feet high hill sight, Jarvis has reached the hilltop peak and stands beside his tiny trunk while surveying the flat meadow of grass and wildflowers below, saying into the helmet's microphone. "Each nesting den is set up in the same manner to eliminate any obvious human movement; but it will not conceal a human body from the wandering turkey. The turkey will march right here in that open grassy area which has been blessed by the sunshine. Then, a lucky hunter gets to pop or mark Mr. Tom with their lucky bullet. I want you to call out loud, if you got the head shot. Isn't that right, Flamingo?"

"Yes sir!" Flamingo stops and stands at the prime hunting spot on the ground which is decorated with a line of two thick tree trunks that stand side by side, where two or three bodies can huddle like a pair of hot lovers. He releases the arm on his granddaddy and thrusts his other arm with his four wiggling fingers at Darrel. Darrel stops with a sour frown and stands beside Flamingo sliding off the travel bag first and hands to Flamingo.

Flamingo accepts the bag and then squats down, unzipping the bag, removing the first blanket and spreads the first wool blanket on top of the wet ground like a sleeping bag. He stands upright and attaches the second blanket onto as a set of protruded nail heads like hanging a set of camouflage drapes on a fake wall. He extends his arm and wiggling his naked fingers again at Darrel. Darrell hands the plastic cooler of beverages and food snacks.

Flamingo accepts the cooler of food items placing the square-shaped cooler parallel to the tree line and in front of the low-lying row of green-tinted plant bushes. He places the last weather blanket and covers the food and drink cooler, pointing down at the newly constructed nesting den for the two new hunters.

Robert Earl slowly moves around the low-lying green tinted plant bushes with Flamingo's arm assistance. He stops and then slowly squats down on each kneecap, sitting down on top of the wood blanket, stretching both of his long legs and boot toes toward the bushes.

Darrel moves ahead and then stops, standing down in front of the first tree trunk that offers a better view of the meadow clearing. He squats down on top of the blanket and leans his back spine against the tree bark in silence.

Flamingo back steps from the newly constructed nesting den and points down at each object whispering into his microphone for all eardrums. "The nesting den provides a camouflage background as wide as your two shoulders. So, just sit your ass against the old oak tree trunk that protects your dick, your ass, and both of your crossed legs from a turkey attack, but not your face or your skull. The hunting post is positioned to see at least 180 degrees around your den, so you don't accidentally shoot someone, like me," he chuckles. "So, avoid all hand and arm movement and sit perfectly still. That'll help you bag a tom."

On top of the hillside peak, Jarvis continues to stand beside his tiny trunk and wears his black tinted helmet, looking down into the valley.

On the ground inside the meadow clearing, Cinco is slowly walking around the meadow and then stops, scratching a boot toe down in the short grass like a peeing puppy.

On top of the hillside peak, Jarvis asks through the microphone while watching Cinco. "What do you see down there, Cinco?"

On the ground, Cinco stares down in the grass and answers back into the microphone. "I see lots of tom shit in the shape of the letter of 'J' along with about two sets of turkey tracks with the middle toe about four inches or so. This marks at least two big adult gobblers," he holds up two fingers in the air for Jarvis to see as well to hear his words.

"Excellent find, son! Go and get into your nesting den, Cinco!" He smiles and whispers through his personal microphone.

"Yes, sir!" Cinco stands uprights from the grass and then spins around with a stern face, slowly strutting back toward the southwest nesting turkey den.

Breck has completed his decoration project. A tree line holds a camouflage curtain and the wet grass displays a matching camouflage rug, shoving the non-matching camouflage food cooler underneath the row of low-lying, green-tinted plant bushes like a dinner table. Resting on top of a second camouflage blanket on top of the flat cooler surface, three individual long rifles point a cold barrel toward the flat clearing, readying for some swift turkey tom action.

Breck parks his ass down into the hollow after his re-decorating job, jerking off the hot motorcycle helmet, placing it inside a second empty cooler for protection. He dons the camo-hat then puts a single ear piece into his left eardrum.

The tiny, round, black-tinted ear piece is the newest electronic gadget coming from his mother Arie. The ear piece allows each son or sibling to talk to each other over a short or long geographical distance, especially riding a horse or hauling the hay wagon towards the herd of stallions in the outer meadow pastures, without using a hand on their physical mobile telephone.

Beside the newly constructed nesting den with Robert Earl and Darrel, Flamingo squats down on his kneecaps, saying into his microphone to Darrel, pointing at the rifle. "Sit with your knees drawn up. Your gun ready in both hands. Rest the weapon on your right knee. Don't lay it on the top of the plastic cooler, since it will make a small noise that will scare the tom into wing flight. If he struts like a turkey, don't shoot him. Instead, make a sharp cluck with your tongue or clear your throat real loud, and then the turkey will stop strutting and jerk his ugly turkey skull to see your face. Boom! Kill him in the head or the neck! Then, we have supper for all us poor starving cowboys." He winks at Darrel.

Robert Earl turns and smiles at Flamingo while softly chuckling through the microphone. "You should major in journalism, Flamingo. You're a very good storyteller, lad."

"Naw." Flamingo stands upright from the grass and says into his microphone extending both of his hands to the two new hunters. "Gimme your helmet." He leans down and offers four tiny silver tinted plastic bags to Darrel explaining to the two hunters also. "The single ear piece is like a baby telephone for an eardrum, where each hunter can transmit and receive all the shared turkey information. You only need to whisper your soft words. Once someone has shouted out loud the clear call for a single gunshot. Then take the communication ear piece out of your eardrum and replace it with these two thick rubbery gun plugs. Else, you'll be hearing a set of church bells until the real Sunday church service on Sunday morning," he spins around with a chuckle and shows his thumbs up signal to Jarvis, saying into the microphone within his helmet. "I'm done fixing up the nesting den down here, Grandpa. Granddaddy Balegreen and Darrel are ready to hunt a turkey over here."

On top of the hillside peak, "Excellent job, Flamingo! Please report to your nesting den." Jarvis continues to stand on the edge of the hilltop beside the trunk and continues to wear his own helmet, saying through the microphone, watching his grandson and the meadow with care.

Flamingo moves ahead and carries both helmets while still wearing his own helmet too entering the second nesting den with his two brothers Breck and Cinco and then stops, placing the two helmets down on top the weather blanket in front of the low-laying row of green-tinted plant bushes. He squats down and drags the helmet from his face, planting his ass-backwards baseball cap on his head of sweaty blonde locks. He opens his plastic bag and places the tiny ear piece inside his right eardrum and then scoots backwards with a smile sitting down in front of the first tree bark, staring out into the meadow.

In front of the last tree bark and the hidden cooler, Breck hands a new cold bottle of beer to Cinco, who smiles at the new beer. Flamingo grunts and grabs the sweaty beer bottle from Cinco, before the boy drinks it.

On top of the hilltop peak, Jarvis slowly shuffles backwards then stops and removes his black-tinted helmet, dropping the helmet down into the rear seat, sliding in his new ear piece. He surveys the two nesting dens and the meadow clearing while lecturing to each hunter. "Remember! Do not perform any quick movements or loud yells or try to hide your body. Stay exposed and posed, so the tom sees and smells your bad body odor. Then he will get too curious and too dead," he softly chuckles with his hunting buddies.

Inside the triplet hunter's den, Flamingo slams his back spine against the new camouflage blanket, bending his kneecaps, shoving the cold barrel on his rifle over his collar bone and away from his two brothers. He slowly sips and then swallows the cold beer that A.J. has nicely provided again, who is slowly and carefully becoming a favored buddy with the triplet brothers.

Flamingo sings in soft baritone that echoes into his ear piece and every eardrum. "Ah! Granny-slapping good."

On top of the hillside, Jarvis slides down into the rear passenger bench seat and laughs into his ear piece without realizing that Flamingo is referencing the cold bottle of beer. "Dern tooting!"

On top of the same hillside, A.J. has scooted over and sits in the driver's seat for a better view of the flat meadow and the head on the strutting turkey, saying into his ear piece that echoes into each other eardrum also. "Happy as a puppy with two peckers."

Darrel sits beside Robert Earl inside the best turkey nesting den, laughing out loud, echoing into his ear piece. "Well, I'll be a monkey's uncle."

Robert Earl laughs beside Darrel and speaks into his ear piece. "If I had my druthers."

"Too big for one's britches." Breck sits beside his brother Cinco inside the lousy turkey nesting den, slowly sipping on the cold beer while laughing into his ear piece for fun.

"Can't carry a tune in a wash-tub bucket." Jarvis smiles.

"Fell out the ugly tree and hit every branch on the way down." Darrel laughs.

"Knee-high to a grasshopper." Cinco sit between Breck and Flamingo while watching the clearing for the turkey, sipping the cold bottle of beer, saying with a smile into his ear piece.

"You think one's shit don't stink." Flamingo grins.

"You see, baby, these little squirrels are nature's speed bumps." A.J. laughs.

"He's not the quickest bunny rabbit in the woods, darling." Breck laughs.

"Keep honking that damn horn while I re-load my shotgun, asshole." Cinco laughs.

"Her driveway doesn't go all the way to the country road, dear." Robert Earl smiles.

"Honk your horn, sweetheart, if you saw a shotgun fired from a moving pickup truck." A.J. laughs.

"Folks like you are the reason folks like me carry a twelve-gauge shotgun, sir." Darrel frowns.

"A Yankee is like being a Southern hick but without the twelve-gauge shotgun." Breck laughs.

A.J. smiles and stares down into the clear meadow. "The boat sinks during a lovely cruise ship excursion down into the Pacific Ocean, where three persons survive the disaster named Jack, John, and Jane. They swim to a small island. Then they live there for a couple of years, doing what comes naturally. After all this time performing individual sex acts with both Jack and John, Jane feels guilty about what she is doing. So, she kills herself. It is very tragic. But Jack and John carry on. Then, after a couple of years, both Jack and John feel terrible about what they have been doing. So, they bury dead Jane." He smiles and then hears a set of loud laughter invading his ear piece.

"That story is great, A.J." Flamingo laughs into his ear piece and then sips, swallowing the cold beer.

Darrel smiles into his ear piece. "Two experienced deer hunters are out in the deep woods, when one trips and falls down into the dirt. He doesn't seem to be breathing as his eyeballs are rolled back into his head.

"The other hunter whips out his mobile telephone with a worried brow and calls the emergency telephone, dialing 911. He says into the speaker of the phone. 'I think my friend is dead! What do I do, next?'

"The operator at the emergency center says. 'I can help you, sir. First, let's make certain that he is dead.'

"There is silence. Then a single gunshot is heard over the speaker on the active mobile telephone.

"The hunter says to the EMS operator. 'Okay! He's dead. Now, what?'" Darrel laughs into the ear bug alone. Then a set of boos invades his ear piece.

Flamingo boos and then smiles whispering into his ear piece. "An engineer dies traveling up to heaven.

"St. Peter checks the heavenly angel book and then explains. 'Ah! You're an engineer. You're supposed to go down to hell, man.'

"The engineer reports down to the gates of hell and is accepted into the heated environment.

"In a short period of time, the engineer becomes unhappy inside a heated hell. So, he designs and builds a few structural improvements inside heated hell.

"After a couple of months, Almighty God calls upon Satan with a smile. 'How goes things down inside your hell hole, old buddy?'

"Satan smiles, 'Fine and dandy, bro! We have air-conditioning, flushing toilets, and moving escalators. My new engineer is great.'

"Almighty God gasps in panic. 'What! You received an engineer down in hell. That...that...that's a terribly, big heavenly mistake. Naw! Send him back up to heaven, right now!'

"Satan laughs, 'Naw. It's nice having an engineer down here in heated hell. I'm keeping him foreverly.'

"Almighty God sneers. "Send him back now! Or I'll sue, you, Satan!'

"Satan laughs with a nod. 'Yeah, right, God Almighty! And just where are you going to find a lawyer, dude?" Flamingo smiles and then hears a set of loud laughs inside his ear piece.

Cinco laughs and elbows his brother. "That's a great one, Flamingo."

Breck shakes his hat and laughs into his ear piece, "Naw. That's a bad one, Flamingo. I find as the future lawyer that I must retort a verbal fight with the future physician," he clears his throat and then says with a smile. "The physician parks his new foreign sports car right in front of the hospital emergency door showing off to all his fellow doctors, when suddenly an ambulance vehicle dashes by tearing off the driver's door on his new sports car.

"A police officer is there and eyewitnesses the terrible crime, pulling up behind the damaged sports car.

"The physician cries and screams over his destroyed sports car.

"The police officer frowns. 'I can't believe how materialistic you, doctors are.'

"The physician frowns at the police officer. 'How can you say that, sir?'

"The police officer points at the physician with laughter, 'The ambulance ripped off your left arm, when it hit your new sports car, buddy.'

"The physician looks down at his missing limb, crying out loud. 'On my gawd, my brand new golden plated designer wrist watch is gone too!'" Breck laughs and then hears a set of loud boos inside his ear piece.

Cinco boos and then laughs. "Bad, bad, Breck! Flamingo's story was much better than that one. I got a story. Darrel will like this one as he was in the US military," he clears his throat and smiles. "The US solider boards a train in the foreign country of Great Britain looking for an empty seat. He finds one seat which is occupied by a French poodle dog next to her mistress, a French blonde.

"The US solider asks. 'May I have that seat, ma'am?'

"The French woman sneers. 'You, Americans are so rude. My little Fifi is using that chair.'

"The US solider scouts out for another chair then returns back to the only empty seat on the moving train, asking for a second time. 'Please, ma'am. This is the only seat on the train. I'm very tired.'

"The French woman retorts. 'Not only are you, Americans very rude, you are also very arrogant.'

"The US solider grabs the dog, tosses it out the open window and then sits his ass down into the empty seat with a happy smile in silence.

"The French woman swiftly stands from her chair and screams out loud waving her arms in the air, 'Someone, come and do something here! This rude American must be put in his place.'

"The English man next to the French woman leans over and does not smile at the US soldier. 'Sir, you, Americans seem to have a penchant for doing the wrong thing. You hold your fork in the wrong hand. You drive on the wrong side of the road. And, now, sir, you have thrown the wrong bitch out the open window.'" Cinco laughs with the others.

"Great one, Cinco!" Flamingo laughs and punches the arm on his brother.

Jarvis laughs into the ear piece. "I got one too.

"The mother-in-law drops by her son's home, unexpectedly, finding her daughter-in-law naked on the couch. Soft music plays in the background. Pretty perfume fumes tickle her nose.

"She inquires. 'What are you doing naked?'

"The daughter-in-law smiles. 'This is my love dress. Jack loves for me to wear this dress. It excites him becoming instantly romantic with me for hours.'

"The mother-in-law leaves the house, returning to her home where she bathes, puts on her best perfume, dims the lamps, plays jazz music, lays on the sofa, and waits for her husband to come home from work.

"He enters the house, seeing his wife naked on the sofa. 'What are you doing?'

"The wife touches her naked body with a smile. 'This is my love dress.'

"The husband frowns. 'Needs ironing. What's for dinner?'

"Bang!

"He never heard the shotgun." Jarvis laughs into the ear piece with the others.

"Good shot, Grandpa!" Breck laughs into his ear piece as each pair of eardrums hear the comment.

"Sh!" Cinco whispers into his ear piece and does not move but watches the meadow clearing. The laughter stops echoing through each ear piece. He whispers again. "Turkey Tom is at three o'clock."

Flamingo whispers into his ear piece. "Dibs! I got him. Jerk your ear piece out." He slowly raises his rifle off his collar bone and then gently twirls it down into a horizontal position lining the barrel with his eyeball. A male turkey struts forward and swirls a big ugly black body around the thick tall tree moving toward the west side.

Since Flamingo has called out the word dibs into his earpiece, he reaches up with a free hand then removes his ear piece, before killing the turkey with the nosily bullet.

He slowly stands uprights on his two bent kneecaps and then squeezes his ass cheeks together leaning forward with the gun kissing his cheekbone. Then he slowly stands fully upright using his thigh and calf muscles with the gun still kissing his cheekbone, carefully stalking Turkey Tom that is going around the far side on the tall tree. The turkey is still within Flamingo's eyesight. Then the teen will blow the rear skull off the turkey.

Turkey Tom dashes to the right and then out of eyeball viewing range.

Flamingo slowly sidesteps away from the low-lying bushes and continues to aim the cold barrel at the black-tinted tail feathers, since Turkey Tom has decided to taste the juicy live bugs at the bottom of the tree, instead on the side tree root. The teen hunter slowly moves ahead from the camouflage nesting den and then stands directly behind Turkey Tom's ass with each black tinted tail feather dancing side to side, where the animal feeds on a fresh patch of insects.

Flamingo slowly steps his left boot sole and then his right boot sole and then his left boot again pausing with stillness, closing on Turkey Tom, who is less than 150 yards away. He looks through the single eye piece, aiming directly at the rear skull, holding his breathe, slightly squeezing the gun trigger.

A loud lion-roar sound comes from Flamingo's blind side.

Flamingo instinctively dodges to the side from the dangerous unexplained noise while hearing a whamp sound sail behind his rear skull. His rib cage and lower leg slaps down on the ground hard and as he releases his rifle from his hands. Then he quickly covers head with both of his arms, when a cold metal steel-plated belly on the flying terrain vehicle soars directly over his folded and grounded body.

The single terrain vehicle flies like an overgrown, big, square-shaped, golden-tinted bird and then drops down landing on its two front tires, sliding to the left and then hits a poor old tree trunk. An array of dried brown branches and healthy green leaves drops down in silence and then harmlessly attacks the rooftop on the crashed terrain vehicle.

Within the lousy turkey nesting den, Cinco swiftly exits the den and races ahead towards a fallen Flamingo, feeling both brotherly worry and care.

Breck moves faster than light-speed from his turkey nesting den also and then halts, pausing in the middle of the flat clearing. Turkey Tom gobbles out a vocal warning to his females and then runs away, bursting into flight for safety from the other human hunters and exits the clearing meadow.

Breck turns and points at Robert Earl, taking command for his loving kin. "Stay down, Granddaddy!" He spins around and points at Jarvis. "Stay put, Grandpa! Don't move! We'll come and get ya'll." He completes the spin and races ahead to Cinco, sliding down over the dirt, slamming into Cinco while excitedly worrying about everybody.

Cinco has not allowed Flamingo to move from his fallen position before testing his brother's eyesight and body parts. He holds three fingers over Flamingo's eyeballs. "How many fingers do you see, Flamingo?"

"Three." Flamingo answers correctly.

"Good." Cinco reaches down and pats the collar bone on his brother Flamingo, wearing a smile. "He's good, Breck. He knows his name and where he is located. And he can see clearly. I can't feel with my fingers any broken bones or tender spots, since Flamingo hasn't yelled in sissy girly pain. His breathing is back normal also. He just whacked the wind outta of his pair of healthy lungs."

"Good! Can you stand up, Flamingo?" Breck turns and stares at the twisted metal on the second terrain vehicle that kisses the brown-tinted tree trunk.

Flamingo softly words with a shaky voice, "Yeah." He rolls backwards onto his back muscles, exhaling with worry, blinking his eyelids from the bright sunlight.

Breck orders. "Good! I'm helping Flamingo to stand and walk. Cinco, go and look about A.J. and his medical condition. He was driving the terrain vehicle that slammed into the tree."

Darrel arrives in silence and then squats down beside Breck, who is clearly the leader among the triplet brothers, especially during a crisis.

Breck and Darrel reach out and grab an armpit on Flamingo helping the wobbling teen to stand upright. Flamingo leans into Breck body and as Breck turns and orders to Darrel. "Take your terrain vehicle, Darrel. Go and get my Granddaddy Balegreen from the nesting den. Then go and get my Grandpa Dunlap from the hilltop ridge. The entrance side into the hilltop is due west from here and passed a clump of messed-up maple trees which grow on the right side in the hillside. You can't miss it. Then you drive back down the hill taking both my two grandfathers with you. You ride like the wind back to the first cow pasture. Use the satellite phone and call my mama. She has got a helicopter. Tell her to send the helicopter to the cow pasture at Willow's Blanket. She knows where to come. We're getting A.J. and taking his injured body to the local hospital for some clinical tests, making shore that he's okay and healthy."

Darrel nods in silence to Breck and then swiftly stands upright from the grass, spinning around, dashing into the thicket out of sight.

On top of the clearing, Breck swiftly moves ahead with Flamingo towards the wrecked terrain vehicle.

A.J. has slammed the passenger side on the terrain vehicle against the thick, brown-tinted bark on an ancient tall shade tree. Currently a single plume of white tinted steam still drifts slowly out from the roaring engine, where the engine is too weak for igniting a forest fire within the Den setting.

Cinco has managed to relief A.J. from the helmet while checking for any bodily injuries on A.J. using both his voice and his two hands. Cinco was taught First Aid courses by the local veterinarian along with his two brothers as dictated by his mother Arie.

Breck stops and continues to cuddle Flamingo while staring with a worried brow at A.J. "How are you doing, Flamingo?"

Flamingo softly answers and blinks his eyelids open and shut, focusing on the tree bark, "Fine. I can see clearly. I can stand and walk on my own, now, too." He struggles side to side for freedom from Breck.

Breck slowly releases his brother and then watches for a sign of stumbling or tumbling down on the grassy meadow. He exhales with both worry and fury, leaning over into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "What in the hell happened a few minutes ago? Yeah, I want some damn answers too. But, the safety of our two grandfathers is first. Then, the medical care of A.J. is second. Darrel has left and is calling our mama for the helicopter. Let's get A.J. to the hospital first. Then, we can beat his ass, after the medical physician discharges his butt-hole."

Flamingo grins without nodding while whispering back to Breck and staring at A.J. "Agreed."

Cinco has wrapped a tiny blanket around the upper body on A.J. preventing shock, keeping the human body warm from falling into an involuntarily unconscious medical state.

Flamingo leans over and holds both of his cupped hands at the undamaged rooftop on the wrecked terrain vehicle. Breck slides and then sits down inside the rear bench while observing his new friend A.J. from behind, ordering with worry. "Report, Cinco!"

Cinco exhales. "A.J. has a busted nose bridge from the violent impact of metal posts and the hard tree bark, of course. His head aches but that's no surprise here. He can hear my voice and hear my finger snaps inside each one of his eardrums. He can see the correct number of digits within his pair of blurry eyes. He was webbed good enough into the driver's seat, but I bet your rib cage is going to ache tonight and all day tomorrow, dude. I can't feel any broken limbs or surface punctures on his arms, his legs or his belly region. A.J. didn't grunt from my finger probing. He's in good shape, but for his nose, Breck."

"S... r..." A.J. sounds with a funny hissing sound within the thick cloth from the First Aid kit which covers his growing red-tinted swollen face.

Breck leans over with a smile and whispers into the eardrum on A.J. "Don't talk, bro! Mama is sending the helicopter for your busted body. Then, you go to the local hospital. Don't worry! Mama will pay for your medical tests. Can you stand upright and tall, A.J.? We need to haul your ass into one of the non-wrecked terrain vehicles."

A.J. struggles side to side with his minor body pains and a set of loudly grunts with a silly laugh inside the thick cloth.

"O! Do you think that's funny? You get to explain to our mama why you fucked up and wrecked her favorite terrain vehicle. Since now, poor Flamingo gets use the pink one," Breck slides out from the rear seat and laughs with Cinco.

Flamingo stands upright in front of the rooftop and wears a sour frown, staring at the damaged tree trunk. "What kind of horseshit is that, Breck?" Flamingo turns and frowns at Breck.

"Flamingo has entered the house." Cinco laughs. "Move your ass backward, Flamingo! We gotta carry A.J. like a baby with his dizzy head and his bleeding nose back to the terrain vehicle." Cinco reaches down and loosens the seat webbing. A.J. tumbles sideways from his dizzy headache into the strong arms of the teen.

Breck reaches down inside the vehicle cab and holds A.J. by the two armpits keeping the injured body from hitting the console. Cinco opens the driver's door. A.J. slowly sits upright and clears the metal door with Cinco's help.

Breck and Cinco gently lift A.J. up in the air by an ass and a set bent kneecaps, carrying the adult male ahead towards the other terrain vehicle, meeting the helicopter at the cow pasture.
Thursday September 18th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

08:18 am

Robert Earl had arrived early in the morning during breakfast meal, at seven o'clock, to the Balegreen Cow Ranch picking up his daughter-in-law Arie from her house. They traveled and visited A.J. on his discharge day from the local hospital, after the wrecked terrain vehicle accident yesterday afternoon.

The triplets shockingly proposed to their granddaddy that they would try and test out the new topo-morphological isolator while scouting around the Appalachian Foothills for a hidden oil bed or two. However, they had secretly desired to find the mysterious Mohawk Patch setting which secretly contained the rich, rewarding Bama treasure of both oil and coal.

As for their new enemy, A.J. was out of the way, temporarily.

Willow's Blanket location

Pickup truck setting

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

08:19 am

Breck slowly drives his personal white-tinted pickup truck at fifteen miles-per-hour down a dirt road used by each farm tractor to plow up a cotton field in the autumn or a wagon truck to haul out a herd of mature beef cows towards the slaughter house during the spring.

He wears a pair of faded blue jeans, a clean white tinted tee shirt, and a pair of scuffed, unpolished, brown-tinted cowboy boots, and his dark blue tinted cowboy hat over his cropped blonde curls while adventuring through the dense woodlands on Mohawk Patch.

"Mama shore was cool about the wrecked terrain vehicle." Cinco sits between Flamingo and the side window leaning his shoulder against the glass window, looking down with a smile at his personal mobile telephone. His long blonde-tinted curls bounce around his broad shoulders. He wears a slightly dirty white-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt and a pair of black tinted blue jeans, and a pair of scuffed and unpolished cowboy boots for the rough terrain during his new outdoor adventure with his two brothers.

"Mama wasn't concerned about the wrecked terrain vehicle, since it wasn't one of her baby rednecks." Flamingo stares with a chuckle at the screen on his mobile telephone.

His blonde colored curls peek-a-boo over both of his ear points underneath that smashed-down camouflage colored green, beige, and tan ass-backwards baseball cap. He wears his usual attire, a pair of repaired and ratty camouflage colored green, beige, and tan cargo pants that ends at the bottom of two his naked kneecaps, a clean but vile scribbled light blue colored tee shirt, a pair of scuffed and unpolished dark brown cowboy boots with proper socks for the newest outside adventure with his two brothers.

The triplet brothers sit in their proper birth order with Breck driving, Flamingo in the middle, and Cinco on his mobile telephone.

"A.J. was luckier than Lucifer, not getting killed by that damn non-moving old tree." Cinco chuckles at the newest text message from his girl on the tiny screen of his mobile telephone.

Flamingo frowns down at the new text message on his phone. "Naw. The diving slope was less than an isosceles triangle."

"Naw. It was more than twenty degrees, bro." Breck drives with a frown.

"Barely." Flamingo types on his mobile telephone.

"Where are we starting our mountain tour, Breck?" Cinco texts to his girl Babbie, who is stuck at the high school building with her personal senior advisor working on her required high school project.

"Willow's Blanket." Flamingo answers for Breck.

Breck shakes his cowboy hat blocking the bright sunlight from his eyeballs, "No, bro. We go past Willow's Blanket as far as my pickup truck allows. Then we break out the terrain vehicle and truck it forward towards the summit on Mohawk Patch."

Flamingo looks up with a frown and views the nose profile on Breck, "Yeah, bro! I lost my turkey claw neckline. I need my neckline for luck."

"It didn't bring you luck. It almost brought you death. Let it lie down in the dirt, where dead things belong, dude." Cinco continues to text and type back to his girl Babbie.

Flamingo smiles. "Naw. I need it to wane off the cycle of bad luck." He looks back down with a soft chuckle and reads the single text message from his high school friend Yancy, who is also stuck at the high school building and is talking about his sucky high school senior advisor without working on his required high school project.

"You're silly, dude." Cinco reads the new text from Babbie.

"We'll vote." Breck drives with a smile.

"Hell, yeah!" Flamingo texts his response back to Yancy while punching his elbow into Cinco's left arm to vote with him.

"Hell, naw!" Breck drives with a frown and then cuts his eyeballs down to see Flamingo's vile text messages, since Breck does not drive and text ever.

"Hell, yeah!" Cinco chuckles and reads the text from his girl Babbie.

"Cinco, you're supposed to vote with me." Breck continues to drive with a sissy whine.

"Go and get his damn neckline, Breck, which is what a little girl wears around her throat. Or Flamingo will nag worser than Aurora." Cinco checks for another new text message on his mobile telephone.

"Worser!" Flamingo chuckles at the next vile text message from his friend Yancy.

"Fine." Breck continues to drive and then softly moans with annoyance, slowing the speed on truck, approaching Willow's Blanket.

"Give us a weather report, man!" Flamingo reads the next vile text from Yancy.

Cinco types on the keyboard for the weather report. Babbie can only text for a few moments when her high school senior advisor is peeing inside the Women's Bathroom.

He laughs and reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "This report describes the typical weather here at the Huntsville International Airport, which is located in Huntsville, Alabama, United States of America," he chuckles. "The weather station reports over the course of an average September month which is based on the historical records from the years 1974 to 2012. The earlier records are either unavailable or unreliable. A warm humid temperate climate is usually associated with a hot summer. Thus, the geographical area within a twenty-five-mile radius of this reporting station is covered in sixty-five percent of forests; twenty-six percent of croplands and four percent of the Tennessee River." He looks up and smiles at the nose profile on Flamingo.

Flamingo looks up with a puzzled brow and speaks to the windshield, "That's ninety-five percent complete."

"Thanks, kindly." He laughs.

Flamingo shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap and turns with a frown to see Cinco. "No, Cinco. Your vocal numbers add up to a total of ninety-five percent. What comprises the other five percent for a total of one hundred percent of the land mass geography?"

He frowns. "O!" The baby triplet brother looks back down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "The built-up areas, you know, your shitty sewer system that you had used this morning to take a dump with your smelly crap and stinky pee, are missing five percentage points, Flamingo."

Breck continues to drive and chuckles with a smile. "Good job, Cinco. What else?"

Flamingo frowns. "Please, try to report something that relative to our climbing a mountain peak, man!"

"Reading," Cinco continues to read the tiny screen with the information. "No forms of precipitation. That's a thunderstorm or light rain or moderate rain, Flamingo. Fifty-seven percent of mild humidity which is water in the air, bothering your nostrils, Flamingo. Wind speed of six miles-per-hour, which is a slight light breeze. But you wear an ass-backwards ratty baseball cap, so your individual blonde tinted hair strands won't blow through the light breeze at six miles per hour. The wind direction is north..."

Flamingo continues to read the next vile text messages from Yancy. "Your IQ is whacked, Cinco."

"No fighting inside my truck with me, Flamingo! Or I'll toss your ass out onto the wild forest lands. Then you get to hike it back with the flock of wild jack rabbits, bro." Breck continues to drive and frowns.

Flamingo does not smile at the vile text message from his childhood friend Yancy and exhales with frustration. He isn't thrilled with his new school homework as the senior class project with his two brothers counts towards eighty-five percent of his individual high school project. And he will receive a terrible grade, if his two brothers do not perform an excellent job on their individual portions.

"And the sun sets at 7:12 pm." Cinco looks up with a smile to see the nose profile on Flamingo.

Breck stops and kills the engine on his truck, smiling with a soft chuckle, parking underneath a clump of shady trees out from the direct heated sunshine. He reaches down and whips out his personal mobile telephone. His phone has been tinging with numerous text messages from his girl Lacey. The first-born triplet brother views the first text message and then smiles. "The weather forecast is the same as yesterday, a heated and bright sunny day. Get out, Flamingo! Go and get your dang neckline. And hurry it up, boy! We can't be here all day long. I'm meeting my girl Lacey for a lunch date at the Burger Hut."

Cinco reaches down and opens the passenger door, sliding down on top of the short grass, scooting away from the bench seat in silence and stands beside the side of the truck.

Flamingo flies out from the bench seat and lands on top of the grass, spinning around, racing ahead towards the flat meadow clearing, where Turkey Tom had successful escape with its life.

Cinco slowly spins around with a smile and follows the back spine on Flamingo into the flat clearing.

Willow's Blanket setting

08:31 am

Flamingo wrestles ahead using both of his arms and both of his boot toes through an array of low-hanging tree branches and low-lying plant bushes and then emerges into the flat clearing of Willow's Blanket while his upright body bathes in bright sunlight. He looks down and scouts the naked grassy spot, where his face had landed on top of the wet grass without blood. He drops down on both kneecaps leaning down and hovers each fingertip over the soft short grass and then locates his turkey claw neckline.

Cinco appears and then stops, squatting down beside Flamingo in the grass, staring at the distance tree and says with puzzlement. "You hit the tree with your flying bullet. Do you remember firing the weapon?"

He looks up with puzzlement and views the same damaged tree, placing his turkey spur necklace back around his neck. "My necklace is not even broken. I design good quality goods," he slaps both hands on his legs and says with a smile. "I guess I fired my rifle. I don't really remember doing that during the unexpected noise of a lion roaring engine right before it targeted me for the death kill."

Cinco sits on the ground beside Flamingo. "I am very perplexed about the entire incident. A.J. doesn't seem the type to wanna kill you. He seems more the type to kill you deader than a door knob. Why the elaborate ploy, without a dead kill, dude?"

"There were too many visual eye witnesses, which included me, you, Breck, Grandpa Dunlap, Granddaddy Balegreen, even the weird eyeballs on Diarrhea." Flamingo chuckles. "It wasn't a smart plan. I agree. I believe it was a warning to us, three. You know, we did find his secret treasure map there at the private business office of our Granddaddy Balegreen on Redstone Point."

Cinco nods. "We did steal his map. He came to our house looking for it."

"He came looking for our Granddaddy Balegreen, who did not possess that stolen treasure map. We need to find the real Mohawk Patch, before A.J. does. Since, our mother is playing the role of the spy, but she doesn't know it. She is entertaining A.J. for the afternoon giving up his daytime search." Flamingo slowly stands upright from the grass and then spins around, staring at the hilltop view. He moves ahead towards the wall of dirt and then stops, squatting down, examining the underbrush of vegetation. A red clay soil holds yellow, black, and purple wildflowers with numerous burrowed brown tree roots that hug the hillside like a row of columns between a massive light green-colored, moss-covered limestone rock boulder.

"What are you doing over there, Flamingo?" Cinco slowly stands upright from the grass, spins around with a stern face and moves ahead, stopping and then stands beside Flamingo while looking at Mother Nature also.

"How did A.J. know to plot his plan right here? We hunt here for turkeys all the time. But he does not possess that common information." He stares at the underbelly soil on the ten-foot hilltop, where he could climb with his fingers and his set of boot toes, if he desires.

Cinco frowns. "A.J. is smart."

"A.J. is a smart-ass, but something is a-missing from my acute pair of eyeballs here as my neurons tell me so."

"You sing good like a good choir member, dude." Cinco chuckles and views his phone again but does not see a new text message from his girl Babbie. She can't text to anyone during the vocal lecture coming from her high school senior advisor.

Flamingo spins around and studies the damaged tree while marking the physical distance with his brain and his pair of eyes. "The distance is about fifty feet from the sloped edge on top of the hilltop peak until over there, where A.J. plowed into the tall shade tree while sailing about..." He frowns. "How fast do you think A.J. was flying in the air waves, Cinco? He said the drive gear slipped."

"A trout can travel fifty feet in thirty seconds." He smiles and texts a sweet message to his girl Babbie. Babbie can only use her personal mobile telephone for communication during an impromptu bathroom break from her high school advisor, in which, she will see his love text.

"That answer requires water. A.J. was flying like a bird over the air waves. He must have hit the ground in five or six seconds. Do you guess so?"

"Good guess." Cinco smiles down at the new text from Babbie, who is taking a potty break.

"So, a math distance of fifty-feet high in the sky and through the air waves for six air-borne seconds equals 8.33 feet-per-second of A.J. flying through the air currents. Then, 88 feet-per-second equals 60 miles-per-hour. Then, the number 60 divided by the number 88 equals an equation of .6818. So, I take 8.33 feet-per-second and multiple it by .6818 which gives me about 5.67 miles-per-hour."

Cinco looks up and shakes his curls at Flamingo. "That little terrain vehicle doesn't idol, until you stomp your boot toe deeply down into the tiny gasoline pedal, giving it some sorry-ass pony power, not mighty horsepower, dude."

He continues to study the tree and then the hilltop while slowly nodding with a stern face from Cinco's statement. "A.J. was going six miles-per-hour. Man! That ain't no boot toe slippage," Flamingo turns and frowns at Cinco.

"That's murder." Cinco gasps at Flamingo.

"...on me..." he slaps his chest and then spins around with a stern face, moving ahead towards the damaged tree. From the distance, his acute eyeballs and smart neurons examine the missing tree bark and the dented wood in silence.

Cinco swings around with a stern face and follows Flamingo. "What are you doing, Flamingo? There isn't any other physical criminal evidence here but a stationary, messed-up and wrecked terrain vehicle now. Our mama nicely pardoned A.J. from both his financial or legal responsibility."

Flamingo stops and stands in front of the damaged tree, saying with a stern face. "She did that, because A.J. was illegally on our farm lands. He can sue our mother for neglect or some other bullshit legal charge that Breck might can explain, since he plans to become the future lawyer here at Balegreen Cow Ranch," he looks up to see the sky, staring at the top branch limb on the ancient shade tree. He drags his pair of eyeballs back down the healthy tree trunk and stops at the wounded bark which will grow back over time from both the bright, heated sunshine and rain storms.

"O! So, that's why Mama and Granddaddy Balegreen were so nice and kind to asshole A.J. yesterday at our house and then quickly drove him to the local hospital emergency room and all." Cinco stops and stands beside Flamingo, looking down to study the grass for any physical criminal evidence for Flamingo's legal crime case also.

Flamingo squats down in the grass and digs through the dirt of tree roots and wild flowers, "Yeah! I plan to show criminal proof that A.J. tried to kill me. Then we can show our mama and she can arrest his ass," he chuckles. "While she is both un-nice and un-kind hauling his ass down into one of Tommy Lee's jail cells for his indictment, conviction and sentencing."

He drops down and digs through the dirt beside Flamingo "O! That's why we're back here revisiting Willow's Blanket."

"Yeah, we retrieve my neckline and retrieve his criminal physical evidence, before A.J. can come back here from the hospital room and cover his weasel tracks." Flamingo searches using his eyeballs on the ground and in the short grass blades, seeing only the ground and the grass.

Breck appears with a smile wearing his cowboy hat and sneaks up on Cinco, standing behind the two teen males, leaning down and slaps the collar bone on Cinco. "Move out, boys! You're wasting my precious time here." His eyeballs dart back and forth on the rear skull on each mischievous brother, who continues to play in the grass for some reason.

Cinco continues to squat down in the grass and roams each finger pad over the dirt and flowers searching any funny object. "Hell, naw! Flamingo, he's looking for physical criminal evidence framing A.J. for attempted cold-blooded murder act."

"Cold-blooded murder! It was an act...see...dent, bro." Breck parks both of his hands on the belt of his blue jeans and stands with his legs apart, staring at his two brothers while they scratch their fingers and toes along the grass like a pair of deformed chickens looking for a juicy earthworm. "Get up and off the dirt, bros! I wanna go right now. I gotta a hot killing date with my girl later this afternoon."

Flamingo slowly stands upright from the grass and lifts both of his palms near his smile. "Sh!" Turkey Tom loudly gobbles somewhere in far distance around the flat grassy meadow while moving around another clump of trees out of sight from the group of humans.

On top of the grass, Cinco whispers with a smile. "Don't move! I'll go and get my gun. It's inside the trunk cab."

"My gun, boy!" Breck turns and smiles into the face on Cinco.

Flamingo reaches out and swiftly grabs the naked wrist bone on Cinco, softly speaking, "Naw." He closes his eyelids while softly speaking, "Naw. I recall something else that I missed during the excitement of A.J. saving my ass. I hear a whamp," he opens his eyelids and stares at Breck. "Whamp."

"Whoop," Cinco whispers with worry.

"Whamp," Flamingo continues to stare at Breck.

"Did you feel the fiery heat near your left earlobe?" Breck frowns.

"Whamp," Flamingo nods and whispers while mentally confirming the sound near his body yesterday.

"Well, shit!" Cinco frowns. "Was it a single or double whamp?"

"Whamp," Flamingo turns and nods to Cinco.

Cinco turns and stares pointing at the hilltop. "Flamingo, take your gun stance from yesterday. Let's measure the angle of the flying bullet coming out from A.J.'s hunting gun."

Breck shakes his cowboy hat. "Naw. A.J. didn't have a gun. Grandpa Dunlap told and saw both him and the terrain vehicle fall like a rock right straight off the hillside. Grandpa Dunlap admitted that he thought it was an accident also. That terrain vehicle was sitting too close on the edge of the hillside..."

"...by A.J. He planned this. He planned to eliminate..." Flamingo nods with a stern face to Breck.

"...to intimidate us. We stole his map. We hold the location of the hidden oil fields, not him. We will become the millionaires, not him. And our bro Flamingo knows the sound of a gun firing as well as the feel of a flying fiery bullet grazing passed an ear point like a heated rocket space. We all do." Cinco nods with a stern face.

Breck tosses both of his arms in the air and says with a stern face. "Fine! I believe ya'll. Cinco has too many good points. Flamingo, go and take your gun body stance on top of the grass from yesterday. Let's see if we can find that embedded flying bullet. The gun shell will be located on the hilltop which is more physical criminal evidence for our mama to see. Since A.J. was injured and couldn't grab that criminal proof, before going into the hospital emergency room."

Flamingo spins around with a smile and leads them ahead towards his gun spot. He had dropped and then flattened on top of the rough grass into a curled body for safety. He finds the spot, stops, and then drops down to his kneecaps, wearing a stern face.

Breck turns and follows behind Flamingo, stopping a few feet from Flamingo, removing his cowboy hat and drops it on the ground. He carefully scans the familiar landscape with a new perspective in silence.

Cinco follows a few feet behind Flamingo and then stops, pointing down at the grass. "Naw, dude! Lay in your exact curled up body position after dropping down yesterday. Then we can triangulate the direction coming from the flying bullet of A.J.'s hidden gun."

"Great idea, Cinco." Flamingo drops down and rests sideways in stillness. He had imitated the same body formation when A.J. had sailed his terrain vehicle over the top of Flamingo.

Breck turns and smiles at Cinco, shaking his skull in silence.

Cinco lifts and twists both of his arms into a model of an invisible shotgun, moving backwards toward the sloped hilltop, stopping and then points his pretend cold barrel at a pretend dead Flamingo, who continues to rest on top of the itchy grass. Cinco exhales with a stern face. "I am A.J. with my gun."

Breck continues to stand a few feet from Flamingo and shakes his blonde-tinted cropped hair curls at his brother Cinco. "A.J., he didn't have a gun, bro. There was not a gun in his hands or inside the terrain vehicle when we rescued A.J. from that wrecked vehicle. Hurry up now! I get..."

"...a hot kissing date with your girl," Flamingo continues to rest on the grass and wears a sour frown. "We know too much, Breck. Continue, Cinco."

Cinco points his two fingers, which represents the pretend cold barrel of a gun, at the folded body on Flamingo. "A.J. aimed his gun."

"Was it a rifle or a hand gun, Cinco?" Breck smiles and crosses both of his biceps looking down at Flamingo.

Cinco continues to point two fingers at Flamingo. "It had to be a small and hidden handgun, Breck. Grandpa Dunlap didn't see it when they were driving towards Willow's Blanket and he didn't see it when A.J. pulled out his personal hand gun from his hunting vest while sitting cozy inside the terrain vehicle. Grandpa Dunlap had confessed that he was peeing on the other side of the hilltop away from A.J. and their shared terrain vehicle when Flamingo spotted old Turkey Tom. Then Flamingo called out for each one of us to withdraw our ear piece, so he could bang that turkey. And I saw a bulge underneath A.J.'s vest."

"Bullshit, Cinco!" Breck uncrosses his arms and says with a sour frown. "I thought you liked the hillbilly redneck A.J."

Cinco ignores Breck and stares down at Flamingo, still pointing two fingers down at his brother, who rests about six feet from the dirt wall on the top hillside. "Flamingo, where did you hear the whamp sound of the single bullet sound coming from?" He stretches his left arm like a rifle while his right hand points his index finger like a barrel at the skull on Flamingo.

Flamingo continues to rest on top of the itchy grass and shouts out loud. "I heard the whamp sound with my left eardrum. So, the son of the bitch aimed the flying bullet directly for my neurons."

Cinco looks up and views the wall of dirt on the hillside and imitates the sound of a single gunshot. "Whamp!" His eyeballs follow the pretend flight of a single bullet, where the flying bullet might have landed, which thankfully missed Flamingo's neurons. A.J. was sitting inside the terrain vehicle as it also flew off the hillside peak and then soared through the air like a sailing bird over the cuddled body of Flamingo. He nods. "That single flying bullet missed our bro. That's means, it landed somewhere three feet above his hairline and near that tree line, before A.J. crashed the terrain vehicle."

Breck spins around and frowns at the stationary row of green-tinted, tall and ancient overstory tree trunks, "Naw. The terrain vehicle was in the way."

Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and shouts out with a smile, dropping down both of his hands and slaps his pair of black-tinted jeans. "That's a great idea, Breck." He rushes away from the wall of dirt and moves ahead towards the tree line. "Yeah, the terrain vehicle flew off the hillside, after A.J. fired his bullet. So, the crashed terrain vehicle has buried that single bullet right down into the ground and grass, when it crashed-landed like a rocket ship into the upper tree bark. Breck, come here and get on your knees looking for that single bullet. Flamingo, did you make out two whamp sounds, instead of one?"

"Naw! I clearly heard a single whamp." Flamingo wiggles side to side on top of the itchy grass and wears a stern face.

Cinco stops and stands in front of the damaged tree. "Continue to still put on top of the grass, dude. Me and Breck need a measurement from your head skull towards the hidden and embedded bullet, where we need to explain all of this math to our mama too."

"That makes sense." Flamingo continues to rest on top of the itchy grass.

In front of the damaged tree, Cinco drops down on his kneecaps, scouting the grass and flowers using both of his hands while searching for an embedded single bullet, which is buried in the ground.

Breck continues to pose over Flamingo tossing both of arms in both fun and frustration as his two brothers will not leave the flat meadow until their stupid gun theory is un-proven. He slowly spins around, moves ahead and then stops, standing over the head skull on Cinco. Then he scoots sideways from his brother and slowly drops down in the plot of tall grass, weeds, and flower stems while searching with both of his hands over the dirt ground.

Both Breck and Cinco continue the search using both hand palms and their toe boots shuffling around the tree while stumbling into each other body and feeling the torn grass and deep dents of dirt of the rubber wheel tracks on the damaged terrain vehicle. The front bumper on the wrecked vehicle had damaged tree bark also.

Cinco stops scanning with his hands and then slowly stands upright from the grass, wiping the dirt on his black-tinted blue jeans, staring down at the torn grass and dirt. "I do not see nothing."

Breck stops scanning the ground and then swiftly stands upright from the grass, wiping off his dirty hands on his blue jeans and then spins around surveying the meadow clearing. Flamingo wiggles side to side, sitting upright, parking both of his kneecaps on the grass, staring at his two brothers in silence.

Breck moves ahead with a smile, "Nada! Let's go, brothers! We are done here for the afternoon." He stops then reaches down collecting his cowboy hat, placing over his skull and smiles at the entrance of Willow's Blanket.

Cinco continues to stand in front of the damaged tree and looks up with a stern face to see the overstory of green-tinted tree leaves that grow into the heavens. "The bullet is not located in the grass," he turns and stares at the hilltop peak. "So, the flying bullet went up towards the tree line, when A.J. missed a standing Flamingo while aiming and accidentally hitting at the ancient tree in the pathway of flight. Thus, the flying bullet is embedded in the un-damaged part of tree bark."

"Right, Cinco!" Flamingo nods with a smile at the back spine on Cinco and then the tree trunk.

Breck stands in place and frowns at the line of tress which block is pickup truck, "Wrong, Cinco! That gun theory is just plain stupid. A.J. aimed the cold barrel at a standing Flamingo while sitting on the hilltop and then he missed a standing Flamingo, who was clearly on the flat ground in perfect eyesight. But that flying bullet sailed by Flamingo's ear point," he spins around and stares at the damaged tree bark. "Then the bullet hit the poor tall tree which is not at a twenty-degree slope. Geez! You failed your last geometry test, ain't that right, bro?" He laughs alone.

Cinco reaches up and touches the healthy tree bark with his fingertips, grunting out loud. "Naw. Flamingo, come here and lift me up from the ground. I wanna view the healthy portion of the tree trunk above the six feet mark. That damn embedded single bullet from A.J.'s hidden hand gun is here." Flamingo swiftly stands upright from the grass and quickly jogs ahead toward Cinco, nodding with a smile in silence.

Breck continues to stand and exhales with more annoyance. If he does not help finishing up this silly brotherly task, he would never leave Willow's Blanket before midnight. He pulls off his cowboy hat, dropping it down on the ground, dashing ahead and then stops beside Cinco. He bends his kneecaps. Cinco lifts and lands his right boot heel at the bend thigh bone on Breck while climbing with his hands up the tree bark searching for the embedded bullet.

Flamingo stops and stands on the opposite side on Breck, bending both of his kneecaps also. Cinco lifts and parks his left boot sole on top of the Flamingo's thigh bone.

Breck and Flamingo reach out and hold one of Cinco's legs lifting the teen in the air. Cinco quickly scans the healthy tree bark for that embedded bullet.

Breck and Flamingo grunt from the extra weight on their bend legs. Breck reaches out and hits Cinco leg for the silent communication: Get your ass down, boy, right now!

Cinco understands the painful hand slap within his neurons and reaches out, hugging the tree with both of his arms then leaps ahead, hugging the tree trunk with his leg, moving away from his two brothers.

Breck and Flamingo swiftly back step from the tree and stand upright a few feet from the Cinco in silence.

Cinco climbs down the tree and then releases his hold, dropping a few inches down on the hard dirt, bending both of his kneecaps for a safe but hard landing, grunting out loud. He squats down on the ground and balances his equilibrium.

Flamingo jogs ahead and stops offering his free open hand to Cinco. Cinco grabs it and then stands upright from the grass while brushing off the grass seeds and red dirt from his dirty blue jeans in silence.

Breck spins around with a smile, moving ahead towards his grounded cowboy hat, "Finally! Now, let's go and get..."

"Naw." Cinco continues to stand in front of the damaged tree and exhales with annoyance. He is not giving up. He turns and studies a row of thick grove of trees, pointing at the tree line. "A.J. must've dumped his hidden hand gun during his bird-flight. So, that grove of trees and the covered ground brush has both the embedded bullet and his hidden hand gun." He dashes ahead and stops, bending down at his fitted waist, attacking the grass foliage with both of his hands and boot toes while searching for a tossed hand gun and a buried bullet.

Flamingo continues to stand in front of the damaged tree and shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap scanning a different grass spot. "Or A.J. dumped his hidden hand gun on the opposite line of tall trees, where Turkey Tom was strutting for his ladies," he spins around with a smile and slowly moves ahead in the opposite direction of Cinco, scanning the grove of trees for the embedded bullet. "I was standing over there aiming my gun at Turkey Tom. Then he high-tailed away from me very quickly." He stops and drops down on his kneecaps, scoping the grass with both of his hands.

Breck halts then spins around wearing a sour frown, seeing the bent waistline which exposes the butt-hole on Cinco, then views the back spine of a folded body on Flamingo. He frowns at his two brothers. "Turkey Tom heard the loud noise coming from the weird flying terrain vehicle, which is an unnatural sound. I would fly away too. Did you happen to shoot out a single bullet from your hunting rifle, Flamingo?"

Flamingo stops his search and then looks up with puzzlement, turning to see his flat spot in the grass, nodding with a stern face. "Yes, I fired at something, right before I dodged the flying terrain vehicle hearing a very loud lion-roaring sound, scaring my shitless."

He tosses both of his arms in the air then back down slapping his legs, nodding with a grin, "Ah! The mystery is solved. Flamingo, he heard his own gun whamp sounding loud and clear near his own ear point, going into his own eardrum, when he missed killing Turkey Tom," he chuckles. "Let's go, right now, brothers!"

"Naw." Cinco continues to bend over and shouts out loud behind a row of tall, green-tinted lush plant foliage and a grove of tall brown-tinted tree trunks, "Naw. Did you feel a whamp coming from your own gun in your left ear, Flamingo? Or did you hear or feel a single whamp from your right eardrum? You are right-hand dominate like me and my brother Breck."

Flamingo slowly stands upright from the grass and then spins around to face Breck. "I felt a single whamp near my left ear point, not my right ear point."

Cinco stands upright from the grass and then spins around to face Breck, swiftly moving ahead, pointing up at the hilltop and nods with a stern face, "Do you see that? My gun theory is solid. A.J. possessed a hand gun and then pulled it out away from the old pair of eyeballs on our Grandpa Dunlop and then he fired the bullet at Flamingo while trying to kill our brother..."

"Why would friendly and then unfriendly A.J. try to kill Flamingo? What for, bro?" Breck moves ahead and then stops, leaning down, grabbing his cowboy hat.

"A.J. wants to be the new oil field man here in Lacy Springs, instead of us, teens." Flamingo moves ahead with a nod and a stern face towards the back spine on Breck.

"Geez!" Breck spins around with a stern face and views his two brothers. "The oil field theory is logical. Killing my brother is illogical. So, A.J. will be arrested, convicted, and sentenced to death in front of our kin folks as we are the only set of true eyewitnesses. Let's end this shit right here and now, before I grow a long gray tinted beard. The best way to figure out what really happening is to do a mini-simulation like they do on the police television show. Flamingo, come over and stand over here, pretend to hold your gun, aiming at an eating Turkey Tom. Cinco, you are Turkey Tom, get your butt down on the ground and then gobble really loud," he laughs. "I will be the stationary terrain vehicle flying off the hilltop and then around the air currents like a mechanical airplane," he spins around with a smile and scans the grass, moving ahead towards the wall of dirt on the hilltop peak. He leans down and quickly grabs a medium-sized broken tree limb with lots of green-tinted leaves, standing upright from the grass with soft laughter, lifting the tree limb over his skull. "And I got an airborne object for the flying terrain vehicle." He spins around and stops in front of the wall of dirt, staring at his two brothers.

Flamingo stands upright on a pair of bend kneecaps, pointing his two arms like a pretend hunting rifle at the turkey. Cinco stands on the ground on his palms and kneecaps softly gobbling like a turkey.

Breck laughs at the silly action from his two brothers. "Flamingo, close your eyes and remember the hunting event from yesterday morning. You narrate what you did, saw, and felt. Then we can solve this miserable mystery. Cinco, you just gobble like Turkey Tom loud enough for Flamingo to hear your wobbling voice. I am the stationary terrain vehicle. Go for it, Flamingo!"

Flamingo stands still and closes his two eyelids, verbally narrating his story from yesterday. Cinco slowly moves around on top of the grass and sounds with a set of loud gobbles in the background. Flamingo says. "I hear the gobbles on Turkey Tom. I hold my gun near my cheekbone while seeing Turkey Tom. Turkey Tom is pointing his beak around the grass, near the second oak tree. I hold my breath. I take aim of Turkey Tom through the eye piece. Then I hear the loud roar on the engine."

On queue in the narrative story, Breck sounds like a jungle cat lion roar coming from his pretend flying terrain vehicle. "Roar," he swiftly moves ahead from the wall of dirt and flies the tree limb across the grass advancing towards the blind side on Flamingo. Breck holds the flying tree limb over the hair roots on Flamingo.

Flamingo reacts like yesterday from the dangerous hunting trip with his closed eyelids, narrating out loud. "I react," he drops down on the ground and covers his head. "I swiftly drop the rifle and then my body landing on my right side, since my left eardrum hears the loud roar. Then I feel the whamp sound of a single bullet. I curl my entire body down on the grass and then expel my bullet from my rifle. I feel and see a large shadow of both heated hotness and cold darkness coming from the steel underbelly on the terrain vehicle flying over me while feeling shitless and helpless." Cinco continues to softly gobble in the background.

Breck continues to move ahead and glides the tree limb over a grounded Flamingo, swiftly strolling ahead towards the damaged tall tree trunk, stopping in front of the damaged tree bark, where the accident had really occurred with driver A.J.

Cinco stops the gobbling sound and slowly stands upright from the grass, where Turkey Tom had been strutting for bugs. He looks down and searches for that single bullet which had been expelled from Flamingo's rifle.

Breck continues to stand in front of the damaged tree and pitches the tree limb down into the plant foliage brush for compost, spinning around, wiping off his dirty hands and looks down at the grass. He searches for Flamingo's single bullet to confirm an expelled shot.

Flamingo continues to stand on top of the grass and watches his two brothers in silence.

Cinco gasps with a smile and sees an embedded bullet, jerking out his pocket knife from the blue jeans pocket, moving ahead towards a new tree and then stops. He reaches up and drills out a piece of dull brass gunshot lead from the damaged tree bark which sent Turkey Tom into flight and sailing away from the two nesting dens.

Breck continues to scout for an embedded bullet and then sees it. The embedded bullet shines inside the trunk bark on a different tree, where it is deeply embedded low down into the brown-tinted bark. He slowly pulls out his pocket knife from his blue jeans pocket and wears a smile, reaching out, slicing off the tree bark and screws the dented lead bullet out of the tree bark. He stands with a soft chuckle and stares at the bullet, finishing this silly task with his two brothers.

Cinco continues to stand and stares at his newly discovered bullet, wearing a grin, spinning around, moving back towards Flamingo while solving the mystery. Flamingo, indeed, had heard his own bullet shot from his own gun.

Breck spins around and holds a dented bullet in one hand and the pocket knife in the other hand.

Both teens strut ahead towards Flamingo while softly chuckling with amusement and then stop, displaying a smile beside Flamingo.

"Damn!" Flamingo turns and frowns at each exposed bullet. "There are two bullets."

Breck turns and gasps at Cinco's bullet. "This one is Flamingo's dented bullet. He still paints a red tinted mark on his personal ammo for identification," He hands the bullet to Flamingo. "Cinco and I don't waste our time doing that juvenile task." Flamingo accepts the red tinted bullet, examines it, and nods in silence to Breck.

Cinco studies the red paint on Flamingo's bullet with a gasp of worry while displaying a second bullet in the air. "Then who is the fuck does this fired bullet belong to?"

"A.J.! We got the physical proof, man." Flamingo turns and winks to Cinco.

Breck frowns. "Naw, bro. The law of physics applies here first. If, which I greatly dispute, A.J. possessed a small hand gun on his body and targeted on Flamingo, then his bullet would have aimed, targeted, and landed somewhere between Flamingo's skull and that thick oak tree. We just examined the grass, bushes, and that damaged oak tree. There is not a single embedded bullet. And there is no way in hell that A.J.'s bullet would hit that oak tree from his left side inside that flying terrain vehicle. One, we did not find his hand gun. And, two, A.J. was hurt. And, three, A.J. needed both of palms hands hanging at the steering wheel, on his flying roller coaster ride through the pale blue skyline, for saving his life, which worked," he spins around with Cinco and Flamingo staring at each nesting den. "So, that means, the gun shot with a fling bullet came from the den where Granddaddy Balegreen..."

"Diarrhea was scouting the ground for the turkey using his loaded rifle inside their hidden nesting den," Flamingo gasped in worry. "Almighty God and Brother Jesus above, Breck. Darrel tried to kill me. I felt a whamp sound going passed my left ear point. That's means, a whamp sound came from behind my blind side while Darrel targeted my rear skull. Fuck, man! What did I do to piss him off?"

"We, three pissed him off." Cinco snarls at the former nesting den, without turkeys or people.

Breck swings around and then drops down on the grass scouting his fingers over the ground.

Cinco and Flamingo both drop down and perform the same procedure looking for the gun shell from Darrel's hunting rifle.

Cinco continues to move around the grass and says with a worried brow. "Why didn't our Granddaddy Balegreen stop Diarrhea?"

"Our Granddaddy Balegreen is sixty years old, Cinco. He doesn't hunt a piece of live prey for fun. He came along for the land ride, since he loves his three grandsons as a southern gentleman to entertain us. Our Granddaddy Balegreen would not have known what Darrel was doing with a loaded gun while standing upright like a solider inside their nesting turkey den." Flamingo continues to crawl over the grass while searching for the gun shell, shifting forward towards the hunting nesting den.

Breck continues to crawl over the soft grass and scouts the ground, shouting out loud. "I agree with Flamingo. Our Granddaddy Balegreen is an academician, not a hunter. Darrel probably stood upright aiming his gun while our Granddaddy Balegreen innocently thought the man was just stretching or using the scope to see Turkey Tom. Don't blame our Granddaddy Balegreen for anything, Cinco. Darrel is the nasty fucking rat here."

"Here!" Flamingo shouts out loud with a sneer and stands upright on his kneecaps holding the object. "I found a twenty-two exposed gun shell. Shit! I'm pissed off now. Darrel is fucking dead."

Cinco moves ahead and then stops, standing upright on his kneecaps next to Flamingo, viewing the exposed gun shell, sounding with a deadly growl. "He's dead."

Flamingo slowly stands upright on top of the grass with Cinco and holds the gun shell, moving ahead towards the parked truck, after finding the new murderous evidence, "Right, brothers! We locate his ass and then beat him black and blue tomorrow at that Redstone re-enactment showcase that our mama is making us attend."

Breck slowly stands upright from the grass and dashes ahead, padding beside his two brothers towards his parked pickup truck. He nods with a sneer, "Ditto, boy! Let's go and find that lost oil field, bro. That's the only reason, in my teenly opinion, Diarrhea is tagging along with our Granddaddy Balegreen..."

"....and dating our mama." Flamingo sneers with murderous intentions.

They emerge from the woodlands and swiftly move ahead towards the truck, stopping at each truck door.

Cinco reaches out and opens the front passenger door. Flamingo scoots inside the middle of the bench seat. Cinco slides over the bench seat next to Flamingo, staring with a sneer at the clean windshield. "We gotta stop that stuff."

Breck enters the driver's seat and nods with a deadly growl. "We will, once we break both of Diarrhea's legs," he laughs with two brothers, reaching down, cranking the cold engine.

Inside the cab, near the front passenger window, Cinco frowns through the windshield. "Why is this particular coal field so important to Diarrhea? I don't understand his motive or his intent." He turns and stares at the nose profile on Flamingo.

Flamingo stares at the gun shell casing. "A bunch of environmental companies are fighting the act and action of coal mining here within the great State of Alabama preventing water pollution that claim to cause certain type of forms of cancers inside the human body."

"Not on our private land," Breck slowly steers the truck around each fallen tree and rows of bushy low plants driving towards Mohawk Patch.

He continues to stare at the gun shell casing. "In the year 2010, there were approximately fifty active coal mines throughout the great State of Alabama with a production output of approximately 19,915 short tons-per-mine."

"Not on our private land," Breck drives ahead at five miles-per-hour steering around the rough terrain while shaking the terrain vehicle back and forth inside the truck bed.

He continues to stare at the gun shell casing. "More than 500 jobs are coming to the great State of Alabama within the coal mining industry, after an approval of a massive tax incentive plan which seals the deal for the profitable company and the state government."

"Not on our private land," Breck slowly drives the truck around the next fallen tree.

He continues to stare at the gun shell casing. "The Alabama Coal Association was formed in the year 1972 by a small number of surface mining companies, that had recognized the need for a unified voice to cope with the issue of coal..."

"Not on our private land," Breck continues to drive with a sour frown.

He reaches down and pockets the gun shell inside his blue jeans, looking up to see the nose profile on Breck. "You're deflating every one of my brilliant and legal points, Breck."

Breck continues to drive and nods with a smile. "I'm the future attorney countering your argumentative valid important points, since the very important person of all these points is our precious mama and her massive amount of private farm and agricultural lands." He stops the truck. The large vehicle can't maneuver on top of the set of three fallen tree logs that resembles a tiny mountain peak. He slaps the gear into park and kills the engine.

"Right, Breck. Our mama is the queen here that Diarrhea is trying to de-throne. He's fucking dead by my two naked palms and my ten naked strong finger pads. I call dibs first." Cinco reaches over with a sneer and opens the front passenger door, sliding out, moving ahead for Flamingo to exit the truck.

At 08:50 am, in the flat green valley below Mohawk Patch, Breck opens the driver's door and slides out, standing on top of the grass and closes the door, saying with a smile. "We've finished threatening Diarrhea. It's time to work for our future payday. Cinco, give us some geographical numbers, so we can flow in the right direction towards Mohawk Patch."

Cinco stops in the grass and then whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the information on the tiny screen. "The city of Lacy Springs is populated in the northern direction at 34.28.15, which is right on the mark. Lacy Springs High School is located northern direction at 34.28.05. Ah! This is another hit. The Lacy Springs Post Office..." he laughs. "Geez, the Lacy Springs Post Office is an official historical building structure which has been declared a place of ancient US history by the US Federal Government and some old ladies here in Lacy Springs..."

Breck and Flamingo spin around from the closed door and move ahead towards the rear end on the pickup truck.

Breck turns and then reaches out, dropping down the tail gate. Both teens lift two individual wooden planks from the floor on the truck bed, placing them perpendicular against the metal on the tail gate, which acts like a sloped roadway down into the ground for extracting the terrain vehicle backwards from the truck bed.

Breck leaps up and lands on top of the lowered tailgate, moving ahead towards the stationary terrain vehicle and then slides down into the driver's seat. He shouts out lout to Cinco, "Read the measurements out loud, bro." He cranks the cold engine.

"Northern geographical direction at 34.29.22, this is on the mark. The topography map shows that Willow's Blanket sets in a northern direction at 34.36.16," Cinco reads out loud.

"We don't need the geographical coordinates, man. We live here." Flamingo back steps from the tailgate and stops, standing a few feet from the truck while using his two hands directing Breck.

Breck slowly reverses the terrain vehicle down the two wooden planks, moving backwards towards the flat ground of grass and then halts.

Cinco spins around with a smile and moves back towards the pickup truck, typing on the keyboard of his mobile telephone and texts the new message back to his girl Babbie.

Inside the terrain vehicle cab, Breck parks in place and revs the engine on top of the grassy clearing. Flamingo marches ahead, ducks down, then slides down into the front passenger seat. Breck studies the land distance towards a tiny hillside. "How many miles is it out to the summit on top of Mohawk Patch?"

Flamingo whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the keyboard. "Mohawk Patch is located two point three miles from our present position." Cinco continues to stand beside the truck and quickly types and texts messages back and forth to Babbie, until she is requested back into her classroom.

Breck presses the gasoline pedal and performs a putt-putt towards the side of the truck. "How long to drive out to the summit?" The terrain vehicle contains two bodies, two jugs of fresh drinking water, a tub of food, three flashlights, two shovels, and a pack of emergency gear per their mother's loving instructions.

He stares down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "Based on a Natural Scout daylight hiking rule, you travel one hour for every three miles. The backpack rule is two miles per hour."

Breck stops the vehicle beside the pickup truck, double-checking the gas gauge and all the indicator lights for any malfunction, before they start their two-mile off-road trip through grass, dirt, water, and tree roots.

"We ain't wearing a backpack hiking our asses up towards the summit. We travel with nothing..."

"...but my shotgun." Cinco appears with a smile and stands beside Breck, shouldering a weapon and holding his personal mobile telephone.

Breck looks up with a sour frown and sees the weapon. "My gun! Geez, Cinco. Leave the weapon behind and climb into the transport."

"We might greet and meet Darrel." Cinco laughs.

Flamingo looks up and laughs with a nod to Cinco. "Our true and tried friend, A.J. is still inside a hospital bed. He can't be here to save our three asses, for a second time."

Cinco slides down into the rear bench seat with a grin and rests the shotgun down on the floor at his boot toes, leaning his face between the air space of Flamingo and Break.

Flamingo reaches down and pulls out the used bullet from his pocket, holding it in the sunlight as the sun shine ray reflects off the brass plating.

Cinco smiles. "Yeah, A.J. saved your neck, Flamingo."

Breck presses the gasoline pedal and slowly drives the transport down a faint dirt trail.

"I guess we missed judged old A.J. He really is a true caring redneck of the South like us." Flamingo replaces the used bullet back down into his pocket, nodding with a smile, staring at the new landscape.

Breck drives the transport with a nod. "Grandpa Dunlap knows of A.J. We should kinda like query Grandpa Dunlap about A.J.'s social background."

"Better yet, we get our Granddaddy Balegreen to tattle tale to us about A.J. They work together and share secret stuff at their work place." Cinco nods with a smile.

"So, do you guess that A.J. saw Diarrhea standing upright from his nesting den and then purposefully pointed his loaded gun at your back spine, Flamingo?" Breck drives the transport with a stern face, steering over the rough terrain, consisting of broken tree limbs, plots of tall weeds and flower steams and shallow mud puddles from the light rain this morning.

"I guess so. I had called out loud the shot for Turkey Tom. It made no-nonsense for another hunter to stand from the den or aim a loaded weapon at poor Turkey Tom. We both would have just blown him into numerous turkey bites of bone and blood. I believe A.J. must've figured that out Diarrhea faster than us first. Then he just reacted the 'bestest' that he could." Flamingo stares at the old log trail searching for any fallen tree limbs or deep mud puddles, where the terrain vehicle cannot cross, since their mother is very worried about the new adventure with her three redneck babies.

"A.J. cranked the engine and then stomped the gas pedal down onto the floor, making the terrain vehicle roar like a lion. Hold on!" Breck swiftly stomps the gasoline pedal down to the floor as the small engine on the transport screams out loud. The transport flies down the open dirt road and roars like a lion. He quickly releases his boot toe. The transport slowly rolls to a silent stop. "Did that sound familiar, Flamingo?"

"Yes, it was too familiar of a sound." Flamingo exhales with worry.

"Geez! A.J. risked his own life to save your ass, Flamingo. A.J. could've been killed sailing off that hilltop peak through the sky waves and then into that ancient tall oak tree." Cinco gasps in shock.

"I believe A.J. possesses some kinda super-duper human skills." Flamingo nods.

"A.J. possesses some supernatural heavenly angels that saved his butt-hole too. Our Granddaddy Balegreen preaches about our heavenly angels all the time. If you honor Brother Jesus, then he will protect your ass from everything." Cinco folds his hands into a prayer triangle while quickly praying for the safety of him and his two brothers from yesterday and A.J.'s quick recovery from his minor injuries.

"Agreed," Flamingo nods with a smile. "Well, all our heavenly angels had been protecting each one of us yesterday, when Diarrhea had sided with the Devil. We beat his ass tomorrow and then we tattle to both Grandpa Dunlap and Granddaddy Balegreen the crime. We now got his embedded bullet and an injured and heroic A.J. to prove our kill-murder theorem." He holds the used bullet in the air as each pair of eyeballs absorb the brass lighting, one more time, dropping the used bullet down into his lap.

"Right, dude!" Cinco nods with a stern face.

Breck nods with a stern face, "Ditto, bro."

"Back to business!" Flamingo nods with a stern face.

"Berrington," Cinco chuckles.

Breck laughs, "Sawyer."

They quote their favorite character from one of their favorite electronic novels which was written by **ipam** and entitled _The Quartet: Jace._

"Mangrove," Flamingo looks down and reads out loud the information from the tiny screen on his personal mobile telephone. "This land access had been used by Farmer McCory while dragging out cut logs with a team of Clydesdale horses from the thicket of woodlands back towards the main house for cutting into staves. There had been a lumber mill built right beside the main house."

"Flamingo is the most boring triplet that lives here in the cow town of Lacy Springs." Breck slowly drives with a smile around Mother Nature's obstacle course consisting of tree branches, rock boulders, and mud holes.

"Stop!" Cinco shouts out loud with a smile. Breck slams the brake pads on the tiny truck and halts the vehicle. Cinco slides off the rear bench seat and stands, jogging ahead towards a grove of flowering trees, where the tree branch holds a set of rosy tinted flowers. Each branch displays individual rosy-red tinted, round-shaped piece of fruit. The diameter of the fruit is no larger than a half-a-dollar silver coin.

He stops with a smile, reaches up, and picks off an armful of fruit pieces, swinging around, mouth spitting on two of the rosy fruits inside his open palm. He eats half of the wild apple and then slides back down into the rear seat mouth spitting some of the used food particles over the floor board and his legs. "I got an armful of crab apples. Do you want one, Flamingo, Breck?" He swallows the tiny fruit pieces and then chews on another one.

"Naw," Flamingo continues to sit and stares down at the screen on the mobile telephone.

Breck shakes his skull in silence and presses down on the gasoline pedal jerking the vehicle into motion again down the faint dirt trail.

Flamingo reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "Old McCory built a detached brick kitchen setting behind the main plantation house with a separate smoke house for cooking pigs, a garden house for growing flowers, and lots of independent slave cabins for the household staff, not counting three carriage houses for the wagons, a state-of-the-art cotton gin house, after Eli Whitney had invented it, of course..."

"Of course," Cinco laughs.

"Flamingo is the most boring brother here within the State of Bama." Breck drives with a smile shifting around each fallen tree branches, large rock boulders, and numerous deep mud holes.

"A lumber mill and brick stove produced a set of hand-made, baked, red-tinted bricks, which was used to decorate each fireplace inside the bedroom and the kitchen."

"Flamingo is the most boring boy here within the country of USA." Breck drives ahead with a smile.

Cinco eats all the crab apples and turns jabbing his dirty finger at the landscape. "Hey! There's a hickory tree. A Gibson guitar is made from a hickory tree. I think I need a new guitar."

Flamingo continues to sit and reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "The original house held eight bedrooms with their own individual bathroom, where the bathroom consisted of a single bowl and two pitches of water," he laughs alone.

"Flamingo is the most boring male here on Planet Earth." Breck drives with a laugh.

"Stop!" Cinco shouts out loud. Breck slams down on the brake pads while skidding the transport to the left side of the dry dirt. Cinco shoots out the rear seat again, dashes ahead with a smile into a clump of tall trees, and then stops, lifting both of his empty hands, plunking off an armful of yellowish-green fruit from the nearest low-hanging branches. He spins around and mouth spits on each fruit, slowly moving back towards the transport. He slides down into the rear bench and says with a smile. "A pear tree, do you wanna one Flamingo?"

The wild pear tree reaches fifteen feet in height spreading out each white flowering branch ten feet across the fresh air waves and bright sunshine, where each ripen fruit grows between the calendar months of July through September.

Inside the cab on the terrain vehicle, Breck stares ahead with a sour frown. "Boy, you just ate breakfast about forty minutes, ago." Cinco bounces up and down inside the rear bench, sucking on the next pear, dropping juice over his lips and his legs, without commenting.

Flamingo smiles down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone, reading out loud for fun. "Within the McCory house, the music room held a harpsichord instrument beside the semi-circular dance hall, a complete library of books, a separate dining room space and a food pantry storage space, and an underground cellar for bottles of homemade wines underneath the main flooring."

Cinco swallows the food with a smile. "I'm hunger. Geez! Do you think there might be some old wine bottles still hidden underneath the main floor? Does the old cellar still exist down there?"

"Maybe!" Flamingo continues to sit and reads out loud the information on the tiny screen. Cinco chomps down on a third pear and mouth spits more food particles over his white-tinted tee shirt and the floor board on the terrain vehicle.

Flamingo reads out loud. "During the Antebellum era, one single plantation of dirt and crops had been dubbed a little city providing a set of specialized services that maintained the crop production and the skilled slaves, who performed all the millwork, stonemasonry, woodworking, and blacksmithing. There had been house servants and field hands used for planting and harvesting cotton bolls."

Breck presses down the brake pads and then halts the transport, staring at the new dirt trail. "Flamingo is the most boring triplet within the entire Milky Way Galaxy." A small mountain of fallen brown tree trunks and red rotten tree limbs blocks the roadway. He frowns "Cinco, are you finished with your lunch meal?"

"Yeah." Cinco eats the last particles of pear and swallows the food tossing the stem out the transport onto the ground for the bugs.

Breck points at an immovable Mother Nature obstacle. "Go over there and check out the semi-short hill of fallen trees. See if we can get around the mountain of tree with the transport."

"Okay." Cinco slides off the rear bench seat and swiftly jogs ahead towards the first row of fallen trees, carefully climbing using both of his hands and his set of boot toes towards the top of the heap.

Inside the cab, Flamingo continues to sit and smiles, reading out loud the new information. "The exterior façade of our home features a free-standing colonnade of four sets of Doric fluted thirty-seven-foot high columns..."

Cinco reaches the top of the heap and balances outwards with two extended arms, viewing the hidden terrain, yelling out loud back to Breck and Flamingo. "Shit! I see lots of deep Mother Natural water puddles. We can go swimming, if ya'll want. I see rows of red tinted Muscadine grape vines, which are native to the Bama woodlands. I see rows of blue colored wild blueberry bushes. Hey! There's a wild plum tree." He moves ahead and climbs down the opposite side of the mountain of fallen trees, disappearing from eyesight.

Inside the cab, Flamingo look up with a stern face and a soft moan. "We should've brought our rappelling gear."

"We should've trucked up here on an individual dirt bike. Our off-road trip would've been much quicker," Breck slides off the driver's seat and moves ahead towards the mountain of trees. "Do we need to bring a backpack of water bottles or some food snacks?"

Flamingo slides off the seat and shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap, reaching down, lifting up the black tinted bag that contains the topo-morphological isolator. He shoulders the light-weight bag and moves ahead with a stern face, following the back spine on Breck. "Naw. We do a quick look-see and then slide back down to home base."

Cinco appears and slowly climbs back down the mountain of fallen logs, eating a red plum, mouth spitting the used food particles on his body and eventually the ground. He talks with a mouth of food, "I saw a grove of pecan trees without the girly flowers."

"I can see the mountain peak of pink. How high is that rock?" Breck moves ahead and points at the mountain. Cinco stomps off the mountain of fallen trees and moves ahead, passing Breck and Flamingo in silence.

"Where are you going, bro?" Breck stops and surveys the fallen logs.

"I need my gun. I'll be right back." Cinco continues to stroll ahead and eats the rest of the plum, moving back towards the parked terrain vehicle.

"The ascent is marked at 402 feet." Flamingo stops in front of the fallen log and reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone.

Breck continues to stand and surveys the fallen trees. "No gun, Cinco!"

"I wanna shoot me some bears." Cinco shouts out loud in the far distance.

He nods. "The Natural Scout hiking rule is one hour for every 1,200 feet of ascent. So, the number 400 is divided by the number 1,200 which equals thirty percent, which is multiplied by 60 minutes of time. So, it'll take us 20 minutes to climb up towards the summit top on Mohawk Patch."

Flamingo nods. "A gentle descent subtracts ten minutes for every 1,000 feet. The descent is marked at 395 feet."

He exhales with annoyance at the steep climb heading up towards the pink-tinted mountain peak on Mohawk Patch. "We should've flown the helicopter here, bro."

"Right!" Flamingo laughs and views the same steep climb towards the mountain peak. Cinco appears again and moves ahead, climbing back over the mountain of fallen trees, shouldering the weapon.

Breck and Flamingo slowly follow the back spine on Cinco, landing one at a time down on the opposite side of rougher terrain. Cinco leads his two brothers over each rotten fallen tree, through each muddy puddle of water, and then snakes down a sloped hill towards the smooth-flowing Tennessee River while following a faint old logging road towards the pink bluff on top of Mohawk Patch.

They slowly walk in-between rows of pine trees, heavy smelling red cedar trees, and rows of low-lying dark green shrubs. Each tree displays an overstory of green leaves that guard the dirt road.

Cinco dashes ahead and points to the next fruit tree. "I see branches of purple flowers on that tree that hold tons of yellow-tinted apricots, Food!" He slides to a stop and reaches up, picking off an armful of fruit and two flowers. He spins around with a smile and mouth spits down on each piece of fruit, moving back to Flamingo and Breck, who cuddles like a pair of lovers and reads their individual screen on the mobile telephone. Cinco stops and drops a purple flower down on top of the screen on each mobile telephone. Flamingo chuckles at the pretty flower on his phone while Breck frowns and shakes the flower from his phone screen.

Cinco spins around and eats the fruit, starting to lead his two brothers toward the pink summit. "I see a cherry tree. But it's not the same one first US president George Washington cut down as a small boy. But it's pretty with the A-shaped candy pink flowers." He stumbles to the tree, picking a handful of small, round-shaped, dark blood-red colored cherries, spits his mouth salvia on one and then eats the fruit.

Breck moves ahead with a worried brow, seeing the back spine on Cinco, "Cinco, stop eating all the fruit! Will that boy get sick to his stomach, future medical physician? Where I have to tote his moaning and groaning body back over the landscape and down into the terrain vehicle?"

Flamingo looks up with a smile to see Cinco. Cinco spins around and eats the cherries, leading backwards down the ground trail. Flamingo shakes his ass-backwards baseball cap. "Naw. Mother Nature doesn't poison you on purpose."

Cinco spins sideways with a gasp and then moves ahead, saying with a smile. "I see a mimosa tree ahead. Do you see all the pretty pink fanned flowers? The flowers are really soft. Babbie uses them..." he laughs. "Well, Babbie likes to use them a lot on us." Flamingo laughs. Breck ponders the sexual performance with the flowers and wears a puzzled brow.

Cinco calls out between bites of food. "A magnolia tree possesses white petals. How many white petals are on that one magnolia tree, Flamingo?"

Flamingo looks up with a smile to see the tree. A full shade tree glows in a unique frosted aura of glossy green leaves with a silver-tinted underside, showcasing numerous creamy-white broad-leaf evergreen flowers, which is an iconic southern tree in the State of Alabama. He smiles. "A magnolia tree grows sixty to eighty feet in height with forty foot spread of each tree limb. That species of tree is called Magnolia grandiflora. The fragranced flowers are both edible and medicinal. They taste spicy, almost like a meaty version of a rose petal..."

"Do not eat that flower, Cinco!" Breck yells out loud with worry. Flamingo chuckles.

Cinco finishes the fruit and smiles, pointing at the new forest landscape. "I spy a persimmon orchard which is extremely important food source for both deer and ducks. We should come back this afternoon and shoot us some a Danny Duck for our dandy dinner, since we missed out on Turkey Tom."

"Naw." Breck continues to stroll and looks down, typing out a text message for Lacey. She sits inside her school desk at Lacy Springs High School waiting on her senior advisor. Breck is working out another late lunch plan as the adventurous hike is taking longer than planned.

Cinco leads his brothers and points at the same grove of trees. "Persimmon tree groves are becoming widely popular with hunters on numerous wildlife hunting preserves drawing in herds of whitetail deer, flocks of wild turkeys, and other fowl. Hey! There's a grove of red and black mulberry trees. We should pick us some berries for a home-cooked sweet pie. Mama would like that."

"Go for it, bro." Breck encourages with smile but does not accepting the task, reading the vile text message from his girl Lacey and chuckles.

Cinco slowly shuffles down a faint logging path, pointing at the next grove of trees. "Wow! Looky over there, Mama! An entire grove of walnut trees arching like a set of gates, before the mighty summit. This is beautiful, ya'll."

Flamingo moves ahead and stares at a clump of walnut trees which appear like rows of wood soldiers guarding the summit.

Breck looks up and smiles. "Wow!"

Flamingo smiles at the archway. "A walnut tree is a deciduous tree soaring up to one hundred and thirty feet into the sky with a tall, clear bole. The bark is grey-black and deeply furrowed. The pith of the twigs contains air spaces. The leaves count is between fifteen to twenty-three leaflets with a ripening fruit called a nut of a brownish-black with a relatively small and very hard husk. Total lifespan of a walnut tree is one hundred thirty years. The seed is an edible nutmeat of nutrient delicious food of protein, fiber, and essential amino acids and..."

"Flamingo is too smart ass." Breck chuckles.

Flamingo moves beside Breck over the rough woodland terrain. "The black walnut tree is prized for its blackish-dark-color. The tree is very heavy and very strong, where the wood is used for gunstocks, furniture, flooring, paddles, coffins, and other wood products. In the year 2004, a gang of walnut poachers cut down a fifty-five walnut tree that was estimated to cost two thousand dollars. Cinco, do not touch that walnut tree! The roots, the nut husks, and each leaf secrete a substance down into the soil which is called juglone that poisons the surrounding plants and trees."

"I know that, Flamingo." Cinco slowly stumbles over the exposed tree roots carefully padding to the tall tree.

He stops and stands while staring at the trees. "The entire tree system can cause contact dermatitis in human, like you, Cinco."

"I know that, Flamingo. Horses are susceptible to laminitis from black walnut wood in their bedding." Cinco stops and stares at the tree. "What do you think? Is the tree two hundred years old or more?"

He looks down and types on the mobile telephone, reading out loud. "The 'bestest' champion black walnut tree lives in Sauvie Island within US State of Oregon. The tree is eighth feet and seven inches in diameter, one hundred twelve feet tall with a crown spread of one hundred forty-four feet."

"Our tree has it beat. She is clearly over one hundred twenty feet in high. Ain't that right Breck?" Cinco smiles.

"I agree with Cinco." Breck studies the tree.

Flamingo smiles. "The black walnut juglone can stain cars, sidewalks, porches, and patios, in addition, to the open palms of Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fifth."

"I know that, Flamingo." He jogs closer to the walnut tree.

"The brownish-black dye was used by early settlers to dye their hair roots for some silly reason." Flamingo laughs.

"Maybe, the walnut dye was used to killing all the American Indian braves." Breck nods.

"Good point, Breck!" Flamingo smiles. "The extraction of walnut is very difficult, because the thick hard shell is lined with tall ridges of thick husk. Rolling the shell under your boot sole on a hard surface like a driveway will bust it. The commercial huskers use a car tire rotating it against a metal mesh or drill a nut-sized hole in a two-inch diameter then smash the nut using a hammer..." He hears the racking of a shotgun and turns to see the back spine on Cinco, sounding with a gasp.

The bullet launches down in the dirt. Cinco holds the shotgun underneath his armpit, pointing down at the ground, blasting three poor walnut shells into hell and then chuckles with amusement.

"Cinco!" Breck shouts out loud with a sour frown while typing another text message to his girlfriend Lacey.

"Shotgun works, too!" Cinco bends down at his fitted waistline with laughter and scatters each busted walnut husk with a tree stick, picking out the tender dark brown nut meat with the end of shotgun barrel. He quickly eats all the small portions from the ground and then slowly stands uprights from the dirt, spinning around to see his two brothers. He moves ahead from walnut tree towards the summit, chewing the food items.

A dome of pink-tinted granite rises 402 feet above the red clay dirt, which is called Mohawk Patch. The mountain side display a rough triangular-shaped with a smooth, flat, rounded peak of pink-tinted sandstone, offering a 360-degree eyeball view over the green fertile valley of fresh water ponds and forestland below the pale blue sky.

On top of the flat grass, Flamingo looks down and reads out loud from the tiny mobile telephone screen. "The place is north 34.37.35 which is entitled Mohawk Patch. What do you think, man?"

"I think this is an area of great beauty." Cinco looks up with a smile to see the sun, squinting both of his eyelids while admiring the gentle slope on the summit.

"Listen to Farm Boy! What do you think about the pink colored mountain peak, Breck?" Flamingo looks up and chuckles at the back spine on Cinco.

Cinco continues to hike ahead and moves through a patch of tall green-tinted knee-high grass and weeds. "It's not too steep of a boot hike up the mountain slope, ya little wimpy boys." He leaps in the air from the soil stirring up an array of red dust bunnies in the air currents. His boot toe hits some of the pink sandstone and as his shoe soles slide backwards while balancing both his arms with the shotgun inside his cupped palm, "Whoa the horsey! The rock is steep and slippery. Be careful, dude!"

Flamingo and Breck slowly waddle around each exposed tree root and every low-lying green prickly bush.

Cinco continues to climb with a smile and holds the gun, looking up at the mountain peak. "A straight forward, upward walk that burns the fat off your ass, Flamingo." He swiftly runs up the steepest part on the summit, leaning down and uses one hand, five fingers, and two boot toes climbing between the young trees, shouting out loud. "Mark this spot at two hundred feet and climbing higher!"

A few minutes later, Cinco arrives first on top of the hard surface in pink hue and wears a grin, slowly strolling ahead, turning to scan the skyline and landscape below.

Breck plants his boot toe on top of the solid pink rock next, lifting his hand over his two eyelids and says with a sour frown. "No shade trees up here. O! A rock cliff in pink hue."

"Man, it's hot as hell up here on the summit, too. And I hate the color of pink." Flamingo follows the back spine on Breck and then stops, standing a few feet from the edge on the stone.

Cinco halts and then spins around with a smile, extending one arm for the topo-morphological isolator machine, stopping and then stands in front of Flamingo. Cinco exchanges the shotgun for the isolator with Flamingo, slowly spinning around and strolls ahead, direct pointing the devise down at the sandstone surface. He carefully watches the red light on top of the machine that remains the same, which is not changing into green hue. A green indicator light will display a secret hidden oil field, like his Granddaddy Balegreen had explained with machine instructions.

Cinco slowly strolls ahead towards the opposite end on the rock surface watching the set of indicator lights without a change. The light remains in red hue.

Breck strolls ahead towards the opposite end of the rock surface, turning to scan the skyline and then the landscape below.

Flamingo squats down in place and places the shotgun at his boot toes, examining the pink sandstone with two naked hands, two eyeballs, and one big brain.

Cinco spins around and strolls ahead moving down the middle of the rock, turning to stroll down the side of the peak, and then swings to the other side, scooting around Breck while mowing the isolator down the pink rock. He shouts out loud with a puzzled brow. "The red light has not changed into a green hue. So, the isolator is not picking up any heat molecules coming from a hidden underground coal mine right here underneath the rock."

"Okay." Breck stops and stands on the edge of the summit scanning the terrain below the summit.

Cinco continues to shift side to side over the summit peak, looking down at the rock and then the isolator machine, saying with a smile. "Granddaddy Balegreen says the higher the R-value, the better measure of thermal activity performance of hot heat within the cool rock formation. Wow! This is so cool!"

"That's an oxymoron, bro." Breck chuckles and stands on the edge of the mountain peak pulling out the yellow-tinted, hand-drawn paper treasure map, looking down to study the map. Then he looks up to study the land terrain.

Flamingo stands upright from the stone and moves ahead, squatting down, touching the naked stone with his naked hand. "This sandstone is rock wool. One of the most popular mediums here on Planet Earth made from the two natural ingredients, basalt rock and chalk. The two rocks are melted down at 2,912 degrees in Fahrenheit into a lava toothpaste, which is found as a coating on the walls inside numerous cave dwellings, probably during the cavemen time. The rock wool is called stone wool or mineral wool. It is a product of cooked molten rock and then blown hot searing lava between each rock crack like inside our kitchen's baking oven. It hardens and then cools on a cave wall. Rock wool has been used for years as thermal insulation in human residential walls and upstairs in a heated attic as well as an acoustical insulation for the reduction of both heat and sound."

Breck looks down to study the paper map without seeing a familiar landmark and then looks up to study the terrain on each side of the summit. "Building insulation is used for both comfort and energy efficiency. Soundproofing is for reducing the intensity of sound. Thermal insulation is the reduction of transferred heat between objects," he looks down to study the paper map and then looks up to see the new landscape on each side of the summit again.

Cinco slowly strolls around the edge on the summit and stares down at the isolator indicator lights. The light continues to shine in red hue. He frowns, "There is no heat and no sound here. That's why the isolator doesn't work. It isn't broken. It does function, since the isolator is creating. That's not right. It's not reflecting light in the form of hot heat which is measured by this devise; instead it is measuring all the cold air waves coming from both sides underneath the solid pink tinted rock, down inside the cave insulting the coal. Isn't that right, Flamingo?"

"What do you think, Breck?" Flamingo moves ahead and views the eastern side on the summit, since his brains cannot make any sense of the rock summit in pink candy color.

Breck continues to stand and studies the paper map in silence, looking up and down at the ground terrain below the summit. "For house insulation, you drill a set of holes into the sheathing and then blow foam insulation in-between the empty wall cavity while keeping the structure warm."

"Good point, man!" Flamingo stops and then squats down, touching the naked stone, wearing a puzzled brow.

Breck continues to stand on the opposite side on the summit, looking down to study the map and then back up to see the valley landscape below, pointing at the tree line, saying with a smile. "To me, the scenic view of that place over there..."

A single bullet fires from the shotgun then loudly echoes throughout the skyline.

Cinco stands on the opposite of Flamingo. Flamingo continues to point the smoking gun barrel down at the solid rock on the opposite end of Breck. He had blasted at the edge on top of the pink sandstone and as numerous broken rock particle fragments flew in different geographical directions with some of them landing in front of his boot toes.

On the opposite end of the summit, Breck shuffles side to side and then yells out loud, after hearing the single gunshot shell. He spins around with a sneer and stares at the ass-backwards baseball cap on Flamingo, "Dang it!" He quickly stomps ahead towards Flamingo and sneers with a sour frown. "What in the hell is up with you, two dumbo cowboys and that one damn shotgun." He stops and reaches out, snatching the shotgun from the limp hands on Flamingo, looking down at the newly created black-tinted blast point, squatting down with a stern face and reaches out, touching the black smear mark on the pink tinted stone.

"I'm outta of shotgun shells." Cinco continues to stand in place and laughs out loud at Flamingo, watching Breck.

Breck slowly stands upright from the rock surface and reaches down, checking the gun slide, setting the safety lock. He tucks the gun butt under his armpit and frowns at the ass-backwards baseball cap on Flamingo in silence.

Flamingo continues to stand in place and points down at the rock summit. "This rock is solid stone here on top of the mountain. There ain't no hidden underground black-tinted coal mines right here, Cinco," he looks up with smile to see his brother. "Sorry, man!"

Breck rattles the paper map near his frown and huffs with annoyance. "Look! I found the real location on the paper map. The real location of Mohawk Patch is north of here which is shown on this paper, Flamingo." He pivots around with a sneer and moves ahead, stopping on the opposite end of the summit peak, facing the valley landscape. He places the shotgun at his boot toes for safety.

Cinco and Flamingo move ahead, stop, and then stand in a row with their brother Breck, looking down at the valley below also.

Breck points down at the paper map and then jabs his finger down at the valley, saying with a smile. "I see a pond of water on this paper map. I see a circle of water on the ground. The pond water drains down into a small winding creek on this paper map. A snaky line leads off the map heading towards the north into a clump of X-shapes on this paper map. I see a snaky river heading upstream and around a grove of shade trees. I suspect that little stream dumps down into the flowing Tennessee River, which is due north of us here on top of this mountain. And the body of fresh water is probably drinkable and cleansed while descending down from the high mountains."

"Yeehaw!" Cinco leans over and hands the isolator machine to Flamingo, heading down the sloped side first, scooting through the rocks and loose soil. "Come on, ya'll! Let's find out treasure." Flamingo moves ahead next and tucks the isolator underneath his arm, sliding down the solid rock and loose soil with a sour frown.

Breck heads down last and tucks the shotgun underneath his arm, scooting down the loose soil and rocks a few feet behind Flamingo in silence.

At 11:10 am, in the heated day with scattered clouds and bright sunlight down on the valley floor, Cinco lands first sliding down the summit slope, races ahead, then stops at the edge on a pond of fresh water. He jumps from the ground, launches in the air, and then lands down into the pond of water splashing water everywhere and wears a smile. "Is this the place called Mohawk Patch, Flamingo?"

Flamingo slides down the side of the mountain, paces a few feet from the bottom and then halts, turning to survey the new landscape with a smile in silence.

Breck dashes down the mountain side and stops, standing beside Flamingo.

They look down to examine the yellow-tinted, ancient paper map and then view a similar outline within the real landscape. They move ahead stumbling over each exposed tree root, around each tall tree trunk, through each low-lying row of wild berries and plants, and finally arrive a few feet from the pond of water and Cinco, who continues to play inside the fresh water pond.

In front of the pond, Breck smiles at the new landscape. "I do believe this is the place, Cinco."

Flamingo stands beside Breck and then squats down, lowering the isolator machine down towards the wet ground, seeing a red light that does not sing while testing the new equipment.

Cinco leans down and drops both of his hands, splashing them down in the pond water. "Did the indicator light change into green hue which represents an oil field?"

"Naw," Flamingo continues to stare down the isolator which appears liked a catfish-looking flashlight devise.

Cinco stands upright from the water and shakes his curls, spinning around with a sour frown, sloshing through the water. He extends both of his arms towards Flamingo and stumbles over a pile of rocks on the edge of the pond, halting inside the pond, looking down at the rock. "You're doing it wrong, Flamingo. Give it to me!" He leans down and picks up one of the rocks smiling at the pretty colors inside the meat of the stone. "Hey! Come and look at this, Flamingo. It's a yellow rock."

Flamingo stands in place and looks up with a stern face, viewing the rock. "You found a yellow agate with a set of red colored dots like a set of freckles and vertical hair ribbons on a little girl. The design looks like it has been painted by a first grader at Lacy Springs Elementary School. Hence, the formal name, a paint agate, the rock is found inside the limestone water beds from here and all the way yonder up towards the Alabama and Tennessee border line."

"That's a nice find, Cinco!" Breck squats down and places the shotgun on top of the grass, standing upright, moving ahead towards the pond. He stops and examines the rock in Cinco's hand.

"Pocket it, Cinco! You can get Woolley to purchase it for his pawn shop there in Lacy Springs. The dumbass city slickers like to buy any and all expensive free pieces of Mother Nature," Flamingo laughs. "Woolley will also give you half of the money profits too."

"Yee-haw!" Cinco pockets the rock into his blue jeans then squats down in the water splashing both of his hand down into the cold pond water, searching for more pretty agate rocks.

Flamingo looks down at the isolator which continues to show the red indication light, side stepping from the pond water, aiming the new machine at the dirt. He smiles, "The red-tinted dirt here is rumored to possess a wooden chest of buried treasure here in Bama which includes some Civil War Confederate coins and Native American Indian true artifacts. The Confederate coins inside a wooden crate are rumored to be located around numerous ancient horse trails, railroad depots, and some old homestead cotton plantations, where the old folks have forgotten, and the new folks do not care." He kicks a pile of rocks away from his footpath and wears a stern face, looking down at the isolator lights which still exhibit a red hue of color. The yellow tinted hand drawn map clearly displays a hidden oil field somewhere here in Mohawk Patch, where the three brothers had stolen...borrowed from A.J. Bibb.

They continue to hunt for a dinosaur pit inside a coal field theorized by their Granddaddy Balegreen as it is his life's work at Redstone Point.

Flamingo continues to shuffle sideways, up, and down over the grass while noting the topo-morphological isolator blinks in only a solid red light. He says. "Bama was home to many different types of Native American tribes, including the Choctaw, Creek and Cherokee peoples."

"Hunting for rocks is like hunting for gold. That's what our Grandmother Balegreen says all the time." Cinco reaches down and drags more agate rocks out from the shallow bottom in the pond, tossing each rock on the grass while looking for another valuable agate stone.

"Right, Cinco! Bama is also famous for its paint rock agate, which nicknamed as 'Alabama Gold.' Each Alabama Gold earth rock is located inside a fresh water stream or in a gravel bar along the mountain valley or inside a wildflower field starting here and going up towards the small town of Athens, within northern Alabama. The rocks are also located heading westward towards the Parson's Quarry, which is located northwest of the city of Florence. There are sets of dinosaur bone fossils from the Devonian and Silurian period there in the city of Florence. The agate rock looks like a white cauliflower head with a set of tiny baby blue eggs nesting inside the rock, if you crack the top surface open."

"I'm searching for a white colored cauliflower head-looking rock," Cinco wiggles both of his hands back down into the cold water, separating all the waves, staring down at the bottom soil and wears a smile. "A Native Indian arrow head, I found one here inside the pond," he lifts the artifact into his smile and then tosses it into the pile of rocks, standing upright and scans the landscape, saying with a nod. "We should've brought a metal detector to search for some of the lost Confederate coins there in that stream which is behind the short green grass, the tall yellow weeds, and the dark line of trees. Hey! Ain't this the true site for the Battle of Mohawk between the Union boys and the Confederate rebels which occurred in the year 1864, Flamingo?"

Flamingo continues to shuffle around the grass and dirt and studies the isolator. "Yes, I have deduced this is the site of that very bloody battle, where only a single and lonely Confederate rebel soldier, who was named McCory, had survived here. He might have carried the secret of the hidden pocket of coal or dino petrol to his grave also. If this isolator thing really does works, then we might not find oil, but we can keep draining the pond of rocks stealing away Bama's gold. Ain't that right, Cinco?" He laughs with Breck. "The exterior skin on the agate rock is rough and white colored. The interior is filled with the colors of red, blue, orange, and yellow. Keep a close eye out for a rock that is partially covered by dirt, leaves, algae, moss, lichens..."

"...and snakes..." Breck laughs.

"Snakes!" Cinco swiftly stands upright from the water and then jumps up from the water in the air, landing back down on the wet grass, wearing a worried brow. Breck and Flamingo laugh out loud.

Breck moves ahead and splashes down into the pond water, taking the prime spot away from Cinco. He leans down and swims both of his hands down into the muddy water touching each slimy rock. He lifts each one near his smile and examines the rock determining if it is a pond pebble or an agate stone.

"Don't scare the lad! He might beat the shit out of your butt-hole, later today, Breck. And I will not stop him," Flamingo continues to scoot across the short grass with laughter and views the isolator seeking a hidden oil field.

Cinco stands on top of the wet grass with a sigh of annoyance and moves ahead, colliding into the nose profile on Flamingo, trying to steal the topo-morphological isolator from his brother.

Inside the pond water, Breck continues to lean down and then lifts his upper torso examining each rock, rotating it around his wet hands. "Come over here and look at this rock, Cinco. The shape is funny; and the color is dull white, maybe dull beige."

Cinco swiftly shoves Flamingo to the side with annoyance without stealing the isolator from his brother. Flamingo flows with the punch slowly guiding away from Cinco without harming the equipment or beating his brother. Cinco spins around with a sour frown and strolls back to Breck and the pond water. He halts and views the rock in Breck's hands, saying with a smile. "Bone."

"Naw. Come closer and look at this dull beige tinted rock, Cinco." Breck extends his hand with the rock.

"Aitech bone, it's the rump bone of a cow." Cinco recognizes the bone fragment and then spins around, swiftly moving back towards Flamingo. He plans to steal back the isolator, completing his mission for his Granddaddy Balegreen.

In the tall yellow weed, Flamingo continues to shuffle side to side and views the red light on the isolator in silence.

In the pond water, Breck smiles and examines the cow bone. "Well, this must be a sophisticated note for someone that was written with the butt-hole of a cow." Flamingo halts and then looks up, viewing the bone inside the hands on Breck.

Cinco arrives and reaches out, snatching the isolator from Flamingo, looking down at the red tinted indictor light and performs a deep sigh of disappointment. He slowly shuffles to the sideways through the grass still searching for a hidden oil field underneath the weeds in silence.

Flamingo swiftly moves ahead towards the pond, studying the bone in Breck's hand, stopping and stands in front of the pile of rock and Breck. He extends his hand to Breck.

Inside the pond water, Breck hands the bone fragment to Flamingo, leaning down, smoothing the pond waves and exposes additional wet beige-tinted rump bones in the water.

In the tall yellow weeds, Cinco halts with a sigh and surrenders the search for a hidden oil field, moving ahead, then stops, standing beside Flamingo. He watches Breck.

Breck sweeps the water with both of his hands finding more aitech bones which forms a specific shape within Cinco's eyeballs.

Cinco points down at the water, "Hmm! The rump bones form the shape of an atoll down in the pond water. Why would that be, Flamingo?"

"Naw." Flamingo views with puzzlement the new shape of the cow rump bones on the bottom of the pond water.

"It looks like an atoll that exists in the ocean, Flamingo. The bone fragments form a ring." Cinco studies the unique shape also.

He frowns. "An atoll is made of coral rock in the formation of a ring which encloses a salt water lagoon. But I do believe that the Alabama Native American Indians did build something here inside this fish pond."

Cinco smiles. "Lift up more of the rump cow bones from the water, Breck."

He gasps with alarm. "No, Breck! Leave the cow bones down there in the water!" He looks up and studies the forest. "This is an ancient compass from an old ancient resource, an airt."

Cinco shakes his curls and laughs pointing at Breck. "Fart! Okay! Who farted? Not me! I don't smell the fart! Do you smell the fart, Breck? Did Flamingo fart? What direction is the wind blowing towards or away from a farting Flamingo?"

Flamingo looks down and studies the pond, then views the forest. "It is not a smelly fart; it is an airt. A...i...r...t. My dumb-ass brother Cinco! Airt is a Scottish word, where the cardinal points on a compass indicate the direction of the wind, the quarter, or the region."

Cinco looks up and follows Flamingo, seeing the dark mountain side, "And why is that important to me for what gigantic, stupid, single universal purpose, dude?"

Breck stands upright from the water and flings the wetness from each hand, staring at Flamingo. "What is it, bro? Do you believe this is a mark or a trail to somewhere else?"

Flamingo nods. "I believe the Alabama Indian brave left this message for them or for us."

"Why would the Native Alabama Indian tribe do that, bro?" He turns and stares at the dark mountainside also.

Flamingo spins around from the pond and moves ahead towards the dark side on the mountain side where the airt bones are pointing. "Hmm! The airt is pointing its rump cow bones in a northwesterly direction that leads to something new or strange or familiar."

"An old map made out of cow bones coming from a native tribe of documented Cherokee Indians that lived here on the mountainside, many decades ago." Cinco follows the back spine on Flamingo and surveys the new landscape underneath the row of shade trees.

"Lead and find this new something, bro!" Breck waddles out from the pond still flinging each arm and leg in the air removing the water drops.

Cinco still follows the back spine on Flamingo and looks down, pointing the isolator down at the ground, saying with a smile. "Hey! The top indicator light is blinking from red hue to green hue and then back to red hue. It's really working. Yay! The topo-morphological isolator is functioning in normal parameters. We should be tumbling on top of the ancient dino pit of oil any moment now."

"Well, I'll be a shitting ass monkey's uncle." Flamingo spins around slowly moving backwards while watching Cinco.

Cinco runs side to side with the isolator trying to locate the hidden oil field or coal mine pit underneath the ground.

"Me, you, and that damn monkey, bro!" Breck scoots around Cinco with laughter and pulls beside Flamingo.

Flamingo spins back around with a smile and moves ahead towards the dark side of the mountain covered in groves of shade trees, dry dirt, and fallen dead leaves.

Cinco continues to move ahead passing a set of fallen trees branches, a pile of tan colored boulders, a grove of tall trees, numerous clumps of wet pine needles, a row of low-bearing green tinted bushes of plants and berries heading towards a small clearing devoid of foliage and flowers. He stares down at the isolator. "The color light is green hue. The color is green. The light on the isolator is a solid green tint." He stops in front of a short mound of grayish-black dead tree leaves and tree branch twigs, spins around, and thumbs back over his collar bone at heap of dirt to his two brothers. "Here! Over here! The hidden oil field is located right here. The light on the isolator shows in solid green hue. We found it. We're going to be rich." Flamingo and Breck arrive and stand in front of Cinco at the same time.

Flamingo leans over and studies the isolator seeing the color of green on the light indicator, smiling with laughter. "I'll be damned."

Breck laughs with a nod. "I'll be damned too."

"Our dino pit is right here underneath this sorta small mound of dead grass and other stuff." Cinco spins around with a grin and moves ahead, stopping at the foot of the mouth, pointing down at the elevated ground.

"A midden..." Flamingo jabs his finger down at the small mound.

"A maiden!" Cinco stares and chuckles at the mound, "Is she a virgin?" He looks over to see Breck. "Do you wanna fuck a century old virgin, Breck?"

"Hush it, Cinco!" Breck studies the mound with a sour frown.

Flamingo continues to point down at the mound. "A midden is an ancient trash pile used by a tribe of Native American Indians. They camped here, maybe hunted for food here. Do you see the elevated tiny mound has lots of discolored earth particles? That's visually different from the natural color of red clay dirt and green tine from live tree leaves. The midden was originally covered with green leaves, red dirt, and tan rocks, but the numerous and terrible Bama thunderstorms have washed away some of the original elements, leaving this ugly rounded dirty mound."

"Let's dig!" Cinco squats on the grass and places the isolator on the ground, wiggling all his digits near his wicked smile while desiring to open the mound. He wishes for a hidden an oil pit.

Breck shakes his skull and frowns down at the mound. "I don't know about this activity, Cinco. Every true Native American mound is a sacred holy place like a human graveyard."

Cinco shakes his curls with a smile. "Naw! Flamingo says it right. A midden represents a trash pile of their shit and pee, not a graveyard of dull and buried bones," he looks back over his collar bone and winks at Flamingo. "Ain't I right, Flamingo?" He flips his face back and leans down starting to dig into the dirt with both of his hands like a dog.

Flamingo continues to stand and smiles down at the mound. "There is an ancient legend which is told around these parts of Lacy Springs about vast quantities of hidden gold. The gold is really a box of Indian treasure. It is rumored some of the braves from the local Native American Indian tribe robbed the new US Federal Government during a horse transport from the city of New York to here within the landscape of Lacy Springs. Then the Native American Indians keep the gold for safekeeping..."

Breck turns and frowns at the nose profile on Flamingo. "Who says that?"

"Our Grandmother Balegreen tells that." Flamingo studies the mound with a grin.

Cinco reaches out and grabbing, digging a tree limb down into the wet dirt. "O! Then it is true." He clears the trash pile of fossilized grass and wood.

"True!" Breck back steps and slowly moves around the opposite side on the short mound, surveying the dirt without assisting Cinco.

"Our Grandmother Balegreen never lies." Cinco smiles and continues to dig into the wet dirt.

Flamingo selects a work spot inside the midden and squats down, removing a clump of fossilized leaves. "Man, she never tells you nothing. Trying to get a false or a true piece of world history fact out of her tight ass..."

"Flamingo!" Breck stops, squats down, and attacks the trash pile, removing some of the dried twigs.

"Well, it's true. Ain't that right, Cinco?" Flamingo pulls out small chunks of dirt with both of his hands, tossing the refuse away from his brothers and to the side onto more shaded dirt.

"It's true, Breck. Finish up the story of the gold legend, Flamingo." Cinco digs a gopher hole towards the center of the mound.

"The lost treasure of Keel Mountain, a group of local Native American braves ambushed a horse-drawn stagecoach that belonged to the Confederate Army. The Indian braves killed all the military soldiers. Then they buried the gold bars within a deep pocket hill. Some older folks say that was a cave." Flamingo stops working and sits back, turning to view each dark corner on the mound.

"O! Okay. We're searching for a bright and sunny spot." Cinco works his hands and boots towards the middle of the mound.

"Naw! We're looking for a dark and secluded spot that indicates the cave entrance point." Flamingo scans the grassy area for that site.

"Do you see the cave mouth within the mountains side?" Cinco clears more dirt and leaves from the center of the mound.

"This isn't the place, Cinco." Breck sits back on his two kneecaps and wipes the rolling sweat with the shirt sleeve and as his two naked hands are covered in mud, dirt, sand, and wet leaves.

"Who says?" Flamingo continues to scan the dark side on the mountain.

"Our Granddaddy Balegreen told that." Breck leans back down and digs through the mound dirt.

"O! He never lies." Cinco digs through the dirt and moves ahead towards an object within the covered ground, which stands upright within the mound in a vertical position.

Flamingo swings around, leans down, and starts to clear one side of the mound again. "So far, there has been found 4,257 caves within the Alabama terrain. Twenty-seven new caves were found last year between here and the Tennessee line."

Cinco chuckles. "O! That's too many vacation spots for one redneck."

Breck continues to remove the dirt and guides ahead towards the middle, hitting an opening that Cinco had trenched with his hands through the front of the tiny earth mound. Breck continues to sweep the dry dirt and dead leaves to one side without trashing Flamingo's work. His hands hit a hard object. Breck sits back on his two kneecaps again and frowns with puzzlement at the new object. "Well, this ain't a Native American Indian trash pile, ya'll. This is a grave site."

"Who's grave site?" Flamingo sits back on his two kneecaps and flings dirt from his naked hand staring down into the scattered dry dirt.

Cinco scoots around the dirt on his kneecaps, stops, and then cuddles beside Breck, reading out loud an ugly hand-carved, rough-looking wooden headstone, wearing a puzzled brow, "My best friend Mohawk."

Flamingo points down at the exposed tiny wooden tombstone and then slowly stands upright from the dirt, wiping off the dirt from his kneecaps, saying with a stern face. "That tombstone marker belongs to that damn horse, who died during the first Burn U football bonfire." He scoots around and then stops, standing behind the back spine of each brother, looking down at the wooden tombstone.

Cinco laughs out loud and leans down starting to dig through the dirt again, "Yeehaw! Dang it! Yay! Dig it up! The wooden tombstone is the precise physical earth location of the dino pit of dino blood and bones that our Granddaddy Balegreen has foretold at his work place all these yesteryears."

Breck grabs the naked forearm on Cinco, saying with a worried brow, preventing his brother's movements. He shakes his sweaty hairy skull. "Naw! Let's go and report this item to A.J."

"Uh! We can't, Breck. We're the ones that have stolen A.J.'s map from A.J." Flamingo chuckles down at the gravesite.

"Right!" Cinco continues to sit and frowns with disappointment down at the wooden tombstone.

Flamingo smiles, "Let's go and get back home and report all of this back to our Granddaddy Balegreen! He'll know what to do with the gravesite, the tombstone, and nosey A.J." He laughs and spins around leading his brothers, wiping off more of the dirt from his body. He shuffles back towards the pond water and a pile of gleaming agate rocks that are not polished stones yet.

Cinco and Breck both smile and nod down to the wooden tombstone and then they slowly stand upright from the dirt at the same, spinning around, bumping into each other while flinging bits of dirt and leaves at each other fun, following the back spine on Flamingo. They halt beside Flamingo and surround the pile of agate rocks. Each brother collects an armful of rocks then stand upright, storing each rock inside an open pocket and stroll back towards the pink-tinted summit mountain, shouting and singing with their tiny treasures. Eventually, they leave the forest and arrive back home cleaning up a sweaty body for the evening activities.

At 05:05 pm, on the heated evening, inside the pickup truck, driver Breck and his girl Lacey roll down a dirt road towards Tennessee River setting. Breck drums his finger pads on top of her tiny waistline with the musical beat from a fiddle playing a musical song on the truck radio. Lacey cuddles as close as she can into the body of Breck without driving the vehicle and softly giggles with a grin at his tender touches while patting his leg, staring at his cheekbone.

He steers the truck with his one hand and protects Lacey with his other hand as she does not wear a safety belt. Their bodies sway side to side to the rolling drum beats on the musical country tune. She occasionally works on sucking down a can of diet soda with a loud slurping sound.

They had ordered the dinner meal to go at Burger Hut for an impromptu road trip.

She turns and views the dirt road smiling at the new adventure with her guy. "Where are we going, Breck?"

"We're traveling to the river side."

She gasps in shock and scans the dirt road and side landscape of thick forest. "Your mama is going to produce a baby calf, if her eyeballs spot us sneaking onto her land property, after sun down, Breck."

"Naw." He looks for the hidden roadway that leads towards the river side then stomps the brake pads slowly steering off the dirt road into a gravel pathway while tickling the rib cage on Lacey.

She giggles. "You're greatly talented, Breck!"

"Yeah!" He laughs and drives over the rough pathway of gravel, dirt, sand, broken tree limbs, and rock fragments on the farthest edge of Yancy's land with Yancy's permission, of course.

Lacey is correct. Arie would not approve of them on her land property during nightfall, but Arie doesn't know the secret gravel pathway on Yancy's land property either.

Lacey views the landscape and frowns with annoyance. "The last time I met you in the dark, it was at the Lo-Mart parking lot and you were accompanied by your two nosy and arrogant brothers."

"No two nosy brothers tonight are here. I promise." Breck laughs. His two brothers are entertaining guests at the main house.

She views the thick, lush woodlands that appear dark through the dull sunlight. "That's good! How is it possible that you are able to escape your mama and your two brothers tonight?" She gasps in alarm. "Did you really get permission to leave your house tonight, Breck?"

He continues to drive and smile, traveling down the rough terrain, bouncing the truck up then down and then sideways. "I didn't have too. My mama is not there. I'm a free bird tonight."

Lacey wears a tiny pink-tinted blouse with a set of matching spaghetti strands holding the top over her small chest of breasts, like the dress code on high schooler Violet. She wears a pair of skinny blue jean skirt and a new pair of pink and green colored cowgirl boots. She turns and smiles at his cheekbone. "Where is your mama located at, honey bunny?"

"This week includes a long holiday celebration with the reenactment of Battle of Redstone, where the town of Lacy Springs celebrates with daytime family food picnics, night time family food parties, mostly for the old folks like my dear and elderly grandparents. My mama is attending one of those charity social balls for the evening which makes me a free bird for the evening, too, darling."

She gasps, "Uoo! Flamingo is going to tattle-tail on your missing butt-hole, Breck."

He smiles, "Naw. My two brothers are cool. We don't tattle to no one. We're a democracy, just like the USA. If two of us disagree, then the one triplet gets a beating, sometimes, a bleeding for upsetting our mama's tender heart." Breck chuckles with one of his yesteryear's memories.

Breck and Cinco had beaten on the body of Flamingo in the ninth grade for cursing set of nasty terrible words at their precious mother Arie. Flamingo made his mother cry with a set of wet, hot tears. That was the last time Arie had cried over her Middle Child and Flamingo had cursed in angry at his mother.

Inside the cab, Lacey smiles. "Then I get you and your body all of myself tonight. Why are we going to the river side? That location will house all of the other nasty bad rednecks."

"Naw, darling! Rednecks are not nasty or bad. The other high schoolers are at home with their parents. Tonight, this is me and you for the entire night here at the river side and the moonlight rays, until it's time to go home. When is your curfew, Lacey?"

She looks down at her designer wrist watch and frowns with puzzlement. "But your mother is due home soon. It is almost five-thirty in the evening now."

"Naw, baby! My mama is out on a nighttime date..."

"...with that Seth guy."

He laughs, "Naw! Me and my two brothers chased his skinny ass off our ranch. She is with Diarrhea."

She gasps in alarm, "What? Who is that?"

He exhales with a sour frown, "This guy just materialized down from outer space dust here on Planet Earth. We, three have nicknamed this mysterious guy as Diarrhea, which is a longer version of his real name, Darrel Kant."

"Darrel Kant." She frowns.

"He is..."

"You don't seem fond of this new guy, who is named Darrel Kant."

"If you define the word, fond, as beating his ass black and blue, then, yes, I am very fond of Diarrhea," he laughs with an evil tone.

She frowns. "You're a very mean teenager, Breck. Darrel Kant is probably a very nice man. You, three boys never give a male or a female or a person a chance of true happiness here in small town Lacy Springs."

He smiles, "Because I live to make folks happy. Naw, that's not right, darling."

"You live to make your mama happy."

"Naw, darling! My mama was very happy long before Diarrhea came along in his pair of shiny expensive Italian leathers. Now, she is having some cowgirl fun, tonight."

"That is not nice, Breck."

"That is life, Lacey. My mama is too..."

"Your mama is too good here."

"Naw, my mama is having some cowgirl fun here."

"And if your mama happens to like Mr. Darrel Kant?"

He gasps, "Naw, darling!"

She smiles, "Yes, darling!"

"Nope, darling!"

"Yup, darling!"

"No, darling!"

"Yes, darling! If your mama likes him a lot, then what are you going to do about it?"

He frowns, "Naw, darling!"

She smiles, "Yes, darling! If your mama finds out that she likes Mr. Kant, then what comes next?"

He snarls with a nasty tone, "Naw, darling! My mama is having some cowgirl fun. That's all! That's it!"

She giggles with a grin, "Okay, darling! But you should not every interfere within her cowgirl, your mama might get mad at her three sons for a very bad reason or cause or goal or purpose."

He growls, "Naw, darling! Diarrhea met my mama accidentally on Redstone Point while we, three were there getting a set of verbal instructions about our senior class research paper from our senior adviser, which is my Granddaddy Balegreen. Do you know my Granddaddy Balegreen?"

She smiles. "Yes, I see him inside the church providing scripture lessons from The Bible."

"I haven't seen you there at the church service later. You didn't sing in the teen choir with me last Sunday morning either."

She frowns, "Uh! I've been arriving too late for that chorus thing. And I get there and sit with my daddy in the rear pew at the church during the Sunday morning service. My daddy has been sickly. So, I'm taking care of him, instead of singing in that morning church choir. I'm needed there."

He gasps in shock. "O! I'm so sorry, Lacey. I didn't know that your father was ill. Is there anything I can do for you or your father? I am happy to help."

"No."

He smiles. "Well, you and I always had fun at chorus practice. I've missed you there."

She smiles. "I'm very busy. I'm working on that senior class research paper, so I can graduate this school in the month of May."

He continues to drive and smiles. "I finished my senior class research paper already. I received the letter grade of A-plus from my senior advisor." The truck slows the speed then slides side to side over all the slick mud puddles, heading down towards the red tinted muddy river bank.

"What!" She gasps in shock.

He nods with a grin. "I finished my paper and then turned it into my senior advisor. I received the letter grade of A-plus."

She sneers with a sour frown. "Please! Your senior advisor is your granddaddy. My granddaddy would give me the letter grade of A-plus, also, Breck."

"Naw, babe! I receive the letter grade of A in each one of my academic courses all the time at school, since pre-kindergarten too starting at the age of four years old..."

"Are you calling me out as a dumb belle, Breck?"

Breck chuckles out loud. Flamingo had used that nasty nickname, dumb belle, to describe Lacey during one of their brotherly arguments. Then Breck quickly wipes off his smirk and frowns, shaking his skull, staring at the roadway, "Naw, honey! You're smart and cute and pretty and intelligent, to me."

"Then why are you showing so much more happiness than your normal grinning face?" She gasps in alarm and then smiles, "Uoo! I bet you got another deep dark secret, don't you? Are you having another teen party at your aunt's house tomorrow night?"

He steers and sneers. "No. I will never visit my aunt's house ever again." He exhales with a stern face. "Well, I guess I can tell you."

She nods with a smile. "Tell me, sweetie! I can hold in my heart another one of your deep dark secrets."

He smiles. "My two brothers and I have found an underground new dino shit pit."

Lacey frowns. "A dino shit pit, is that an underground oil field?" She gasps with shock, "No, way!"

He grins, "Yes, way! My Granddaddy Balegreen has always proclaimed very loudly for years and years that there is a dino shit pit there inside the foothills on the Appalachian mountain range. This is a deep, dark secret, babe. My two brothers and I have found the secret dino shit hole," Breck laughs.

She gasps in alarm, "Where! Where is the dino shit hole located here in Lacy Springs?"

He smiles. "Well, I cannot really say right now. I need to tattle to my Granddaddy Balegreen first. Then he needs to verify our findings..."

"But I'm your girl."

"You are my girl."

"I am your girl. You are to share each deep, dark secret with me."

"I can do that, after I have confirmed with my granddaddy..."

"Don't you trust me?"

He nods. "Yes, Lacey! I trust you with my life."

She frowns. "So, you don't trust me with your words."

He exhales. "Okay! You have twisted my words and my heart strings. I will tattle this information only for you, sweetheart. The dino shit hole is located below Mohawk Patch."

She frowns. "Mohawk Patch, I haven't heard of that location. Where is the location of Mohawk Patch?"

"At Mohawk Patch," he laughs and stops the truck, killing the engine.

She sneers. "Breck, you and your clever vocal statement is not funny to me. I am your girl here."

He opens the door and turns with a wink to see her distorted face. "Lacey, the location of Mohawk Patch is a deep, dark secret. Come on now! Let's forget about school, papers, and secrets. We're here at the river bank and in the moonlight rays, just you and me, in love," he leans over and kisses her mouth, pulling back with a smile. He slides out the open door and stands on top of the wet mud, posing both of his palms for her to exit into his arms.

She exhales with a fake smile. "Yeah, we are here, just me and you, in love." Lacey scoots by the steering wheel and then sits on the edge of the seat, leaping into his arms, sounding with a set of girly giggles. They both chuckle with amusement.

He back steps from the open door and slams it shut with an elbow while toting Lacey in his arms back toward the truck bed and then stops. He drops down the tail gate, exposing the clean metal floor, slipping Lacey over the smooth bed. "Crawl over the floor! I'm going to remove the protective cover, so we can see the bright twinkling stars tonight, honey."

She wiggles over the cool metal floor with a giggle and then disappears underneath the truck bed cover, sounding with a loud laughter without words.

He reaches out and grabs one edge, slowly unfolding part of the protective cover over the trunk bed floor exposing the overstory tree tops and a dull skyline. He slides down and sits on top of the tail gate, removing both of his muddy boots, crawling backwards. He scoots with a smile and then rests beside Lacey, turning with a wink to see her smile. "Take off your clothes, babe! I'm going to search your cute body for all of these nasty crawling ticks, darling."

Lacey continues to rest down on top of the soft blanket with a giggle and un-buttons her pink blouse, exposing her pink tinted bikini top, laughing with a smile.
Friday September 19th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Balegreen Cow Ranch, property of Arie Balegreen

Entrance hall setting

01:01 pm

Cinco slowly strolls down the middle steps on the grand staircase, softly humming a familiar musical song, wearing his pair of black tinted, non-shiny, kinda dirty with lots of red-tinted clay biker boots underneath a pair of wool trousers. He stomps off the last step with a sour frown and moves ahead towards Breck while scratching at numerous itchy body parts.

Breck stands at the front row of low-lying glass windows, staring down at the tiny screen and types a new text message to Lacey on his personal mobile telephone. He smiles down at the screen without seeing but hearing his brother Cinco. "I like your bitches, man." He waits for his mother, who continues to dress inside her upstairs bedroom.

Cinco advances towards the window, stops, and stands beside Breck viewing the clean windows. The day of September is sunny and heated. He wishes to go off hunting, fishing, or riding on his stallion beyond the manicured lawn, instead of standing inside the entrance hallway with Breck.

Cinco scratches numerous body parts between his clothing. "The word is properly termed as trousers on a guy. And why can't we wear our comfortable faded and ripped and shredded blue jeans underneath this hot wool jacket?"

On the staircase, Flamingo swiftly flies down the steps and dresses in the same appearance as his two brothers.

Each brother wears a light gray colored outfit consisting of a fitted double-breasted body jacket that is trimmed with a set of eight golden-plated buttons, four on each side of the sleeve cuff. A flat, black-tinted velvet lapel collar hugs each thick teenage neck. Flamingo is missing his nasty ass-backwards tan, green, and brown camouflage baseball cap and smiles wearing the same gray-colored cowboy hat as his two brothers.

A pair of black-colored boots in varied shoe styles appear on each triplet brother.

Cinco wear his nasty pair of dirty biker boots. Flamingo displays a new pair of gleaming black colored cowboy boots. Breck exhibits his pair of worn but polished black and gray cowboy boots.

Each pair of boot toes peeks out from underneath a pair of light gray-tinted, wool trousers without pockets as Cinco cannot hide his hunting knife.

A light gray-tinted felt cowboy hat is trimmed in a yellow-colored braid that crisscrosses at the left side on the wide brim, where a blue and red colored rebel flag symbol has been sewn into the tall crown that covers a set of blonde-tinted hair roots. The cross-bow always sits on the left side on the cowboy hat.

Within ancient American history, the right side on any sitting headwear did not possess any type of obstacle or decoration that would interfere from withdrawing the hand gun for any impromptu personal shootout on the town's dusty road.

On the floor, Flamingo stomps down the last step and trucks ahead towards the same window pane, wearing a smile. The huge window pane is wide enough for four males to stand shoulder-to-shoulder which had been built by the cotton plantation owner McCory, in the early 1800, displaying his money wealth and his new manual air-conditioning system.

Flamingo stops and stands beside Cinco, staring out the glass window also. "Breck means to use the ancient word, britches. The army of brave Confederates did not possess a pair of denim dark blue tinted jeans for war battle, Cinco." He spins around with a grin and searches for his mother on the second-floor balcony.

Last night, Breck had fun and really enjoyed his moonlight date alone with Lacey. He continues to text his girl and chuckles down at the tiny screen on the mobile telephone, "The frock rocks."

"I'm a male." Cinco sneers at the pretty day, wishing for some licks at a football practice that has cancelled for the day. There is not a schedule football game tonight either due to the annual celebration here within Lacy Springs.

"The frock coat rocks," Breck reads and grins at Lacey's newest love text message.

Cinco sneers at the manicured grass on the front lawn. "I'm a cowboy, not a cowgirl." He yanks both hands and presses the fabric against his chest.

Breck turns and smiles at the nose profile on Cinco. "Have you ever heard of a frock motor? A frock motor is part of an electric bicycle that keeps you from burning your leg britches, bro."

"Don't you find it weird-ass annoying that our mother has started to attend all of these crappy, social, southern sideshows now?" Flamingo continues to stand beside Cinco and stares at the upper level for Arie.

Breck views the nose profile on Flamingo. "Arie is being blackmailed by Iredell."

Cinco sneers at the window and the grass. "Hell, bells! We are all being blackmailed by Iredell Balegreen," he turns and sneers at the cheekbone on Flamingo. "Dude, what in the hell did you do to piss our mama off, Flamingo?"

Flamingo shakes his cowboy hat and stares with a stern face at the second-floor balcony, "Naw, man! I didn't do or make our Grandmother Balegreen or our Grandma Dunlap mad at me about anything lately." He does not see the petite figure of Arie and worries with concern.

Cinco returns back and stares at the grass through the window pane, again, saying with a sour frown, "Yup! You did, Flamingo. Or we would be roaming the range or killing the tiny quail with our Grandma Dunlap. He bragged to me that he got exempted from this annual social dumb run with permission from Grandma Dunlap," he turns and frowns at the cheekbone on Breck. "Breck, go and ask our Grandma Dunlap to exempt us from the stupid social thingy, right now. She likes you as the 'bestest' triple among us, dude." Breck ignores the command and continues to type a text message back to Lacey, wearing a smile in silence.

"Is Lacey with an 'e' coming to the social thing tonight?" Flamingo continues to stare at the balcony for Arie.

"Naw," Breck continues to smile and reads each text message from Lacey.

Flamingo turns and views Breck. "O no! Brick Brain is sad and crying out all of his wet hot tears of dumbness," he laughs alone.

Cinco turns and frowns at the cheekbone on Breck while scratching his chest with his fingers. "Breck exhibits love sickness like a tick on a coon dog."

Flamingo turns and frowns at the hand motions on Cinco, "Coonie doesn't have a single tick; but Cinco has a flock of fleas. Why do you scratch your hairy chest, boy?"

"I sweat inside the frock coat. I itch on my tender skin." Cinco scratches between the second and third button panel on the frock coat. "Why is our Grandmother Balegreen being a bitch to our mama?" He spins around with a sour frown and strolls ahead, stopping in front of the staircase while scratching more body part. He looks up and stares with a sour frown at the second-floor level watching for Arie, who wears a southern belle costume too.

Flamingo slips over, stops, and stands beside Breck, reaching out, touching the body jacket sleeve on Breck without viewing one of the nasty, sexy text messages from Loser Lacey. He frowns. "Why does big brother Breck possess three rows of pretty, curly, sissy yellow tinted girly braiding around the edge on both of his jacket sleeves?" He examines his solid gray-tinted jacket sleeve. "I do not possess a set of pretty, curly, sissy yellow tinted girly braiding on my jacket sleeves. My jacket sleeve is plain and gray colored."

Breck frowns and continues to view each text message from Lacey. "Shush, Cinco! Do not curse out loud about our Grandmother Balegreen! Our mama might accidentally over hear your set of nasty words. Then Flamingo and I will get to beat the crap out of your ass. I am a captain among the Confederate rebels, bro."

Cinco shouts out loud and stares at the second level floor, "Mama!"

"You are a captain among the Confederate rebels. Does that pretty, curly, sissy yellow tinted girly braiding made you a captain among the rebel troops?" Flamingo stares down at numerous bands of yellow tinted braids that shine against the dull gray fabric on Breck's body jacket.

Breck looks up and winks at Flamingo. "You and Cinco are a pair of Confederate privates within the rebel army. I display rows of yellow braid and you don't."

Flamingo sneers. "Private! I ain't a private soldier among the brave rebel army men, man. Who suggested that yellow braiding on your Confederate gray colored uniform?"

"Grandma Dunlap." Breck hears the beep and then looks down with a grin reading the new text message from Lacey.

Cinco chuckles with a nod and continues to stare at the second-floor level. "I told you so, Flamingo. Big brother Breck is the favored triplet grandson among the three."

"Breck is the fucked triplet siblings among the three." Flamingo frowns while secretly spying on the new sexy, nasty text message from Loser Lacey.

In front of the staircase, Cinco smiles at the second-floor level. "Grandma Dunlap gives sweet love to our mama. So, her monster-in-law gives our mama tough love. I think we need to teach our Grandmother Balegreen a serious southern belle lesson using our own tough southern rebel love." He spins around with a wink and nods to Flamingo. Flamingo smiles at Cinco in silent agreement.

"I agree also. When do we do that, bro?" Breck continues to look down and reads each sexy, love text message from Lacey.

Cinco moves ahead towards the front door and holds one finger near his sour frown. "First off, I vote that we boycott this gawd damn social thingy. Second off, we kidnap our mama and take her window shopping within the big bad city of Huntsville for the rest of the afternoon. We can eat our nightly supper up there also. Third off, we get her ass conveniently away from the cow ranch, so Diarrhea can't inconveniently drop by to see our mama."

"Yeah, man!" Flamingo continues to stand beside Breck and nods with a smile at Cinco.

"Right on, bro!" Breck looks up and then views the entrance wall. The front door swiftly opens revealing an abundance of bright sunlight.

"Are you gonna go and tell our Grandmother Balegreen to fuck off?" Flamingo frowns.

A male emerges from the bright sunlight and stands inside the open archway in silence while the blinding sun rays block the pair of eyeballs on Flamingo and Breck.

Cinco stops and stands in front of the open archway, reaching out, shaking the hand on the familiar elderly male, "Hey, Granddaddy!" He releases the hand with a smile.

Robert Earl slowly enters further into the entrance hall floor and as Cinco swiftly back steps, stops, and stands in line with his two brothers. Robert Earl stops with a sour face and stands in front of the three teens after hearing the nasty remark coming from the vile tongue on Flamingo. Robert Earl clears his throat and fakes his smile. "Lads, let us get moving, before you miss the exhilarating attack of the Union soldiers battling each Confederate rebel at Redstone Point."

"Mama!" Cinco looks up and yells at the second level floor. "Mama, we need to go before we miss the bloody mess of fake people at the grassy park. Mama!"

Robert Earl exhales with annoyance and then frowns at each triple grandson. Arie allows her three sons to run wild like a bunch of monkeys without supervision. He says. "Cinco, your mother Arie left exactly two hours and forty-two minutes ago, while you, lads were still figuring out how to dress as a Confederate soldier with your Confederate uniform. She needed some female assistance down into her antebellum costume ball gown. She and your Grandmother Balegreen are on the way back to the house. Let us go and move outside and wait on the front porch, before you make us late, lads." He wears the same dull gray-tinted body jacket and a pair of matching trousers. Four pretty, curly, yellow tinted girly braids run around the tip of each one of his jacket sleeves. He back steps from the line of teens and scoots sideways strolling ahead toward the open archway.

Flamingo swiftly dashes ahead with a smile and stops, slowly strolling with Robert Earl, pointing down at the jacket sleeve. "I can see that you possess four rows of yellow tinted braids on each one of your jacket sleeves. What is your rank within the Confederate rebel army, Granddaddy?"

He continues to stroll outside and stops, standing on top of the front porch, pointing down at his jacket sleeve, "How very astute of your neurons, Flamingo! I am a major. Breck is a captain. And I clearly see that you and Cinco are a pair of lowly private soldiers without any type of fancy decoration on your Confederate soldier suit jacket. This translates into the following command structure. Breck is your superior officer. I am Breck's superior officer." He displays a pair of expensive black-tinted Italians leathers, instead of a pair of shiny cowboy boots.

Robert Earl turns and smiles at a slow-moving silver-tinted limousine that slowly crawls over the smooth yellow-tinted bricked driveway. The limousine stops and parks in front of the gray tinted granite front porch steps leading into the house.

From the open archway, Cinco appears, stops, and stands Flamingo. Breck follows Cinco, stops, and stands beside Flamingo while pondering the people inside a rented limousine.

The limousine driver exits the vehicle first and scoots down, opening the rear door.

On top of the same yellow-tinted driveway, a team of horses bray their arrival pulling a white- tinted roofless carriage buggy following not too close behind the transport, halting a few feet from the parked limousine.

From the open door, on the limousine, a white-tinted silk fabric is imprinted with thousands of tiny baby blue flowers on a silk plantation skirt and falls out first and then a single white-tinted summer sandal appears with a set of pale blue baby painted toe nails and as a girly laughter echoes from the darkness.

On top of the front porch, Flamingo gasps and then shouts out loud, "Mama!" He swiftly races down the front porch bricked steps, dashes ahead towards the open door, and then stops, leaning down, plowing both of his hands and arms into the dark limousine interior. He grabs one of her naked arms for leverage and carefully assists Arie out from the rear compartment on the limousine. Flamingo gently stands Arie upright on top of the yellow tinted driveway beside him.

She carefully balances in the wide gown and narrows her eyelashes from the bright sun rays, smiling at her two other sons.

Flamingo curves his arm around her waist assisting Arie to balance upright while protecting her from Darrel.

Arie displays a pair of four-inched high heels over her naked toes. Two crinoline slips itch her naked legs that projects her skirt into a three-foot wide diameter gown around her petite body. The upper body bodice possesses a deep neckline plummeting down between her two breasts while exposing a naked throat and two collar bones baring a little too much skin than fabric.

The tips of her off-the-shoulder neckline features a single bouncy pom-pom shape of vertical cut ribbons in the same silk-floral print making her a southern belle cheerleader. When Arie giggles, each pom-pom shakes for fun too.

Her long silver-tinted hair is upsweep into a bundled ponytail on the side of her face, where each hair strand has been shaped into a column of vertical curls representing an ancient hair style from a true southern belle.

Finally, Arie completes her southern belle outfit with a pair of white-tinted, fingerless, knit gloves over each naked finger, a closed white silk fan inside her cupped palm, and a set of sparkling baby blue jewelry around her upper body consisting of a pair of earrings and a necklace.

Cinco notices the blue items first and gasps in shock.

Flamingo slowly guides Arie away from the limousine over the driveway concrete.

Darrel slides out from the opposite rear door and scoots around the front bumper on the limousine, strolling ahead towards Robert Earl, nodding with a smile in silence.

On top of the front porch, Breck dashes ahead and stops, standing in front of the open door, leaning down to assist his grandmother. Iredell slides across the leather seat and then plants both of sandal soles on top of the smooth concrete, extending her gloved hand to her grandson Breck.

Breck grabs her hand and elbow helping Iredell into a standing pose in front of the open door, back stepping and stands a few feet beside his grandmother while watching her balance.

The limousine driver and Iredell lean down and bump heads and as she whispers a set of secret words. The driver back steps with a nod in silence and then enters back into the vehicle, cranking the warm engine, pressing the button that shuts the rear doors.

Beside the closed limousine door, Breck reaches out and extends his arm, escorting Iredell towards the front porch with Arie, Robert, Earl, Cinco, and Flamingo and stops, forming a loose huddle with his family members.

On top of the front porch, Robert Earl turns and watches the limousine advance away from the house then looks with a puzzled brow at his wife Iredell.

Iredell wears a dark blue tinted plantation dress of silk which is decorated with line of zigzagging geometric black tinted velvet, crisscrossing like a railroad train tracks around her three-foot diameter gown. The bodice is made of dark blue silk fabric with two rows of black lace falling into a deep neckline, exposing the tips of her dark colored and weathered, naked collar bones. Her naked throat is covered with a row of blue tinted sapphire neckline. She wears a pair of dangling sapphire earrings, a pair of white satin elbow gloves, carrying a closed white tinted silk face fan in one gloved hand. Her gray hair is pinned in a tight bun without decoration behind the nape of her neck. She turns and smiles at each handsome grandson.

Robert Earl continues to frown at the rear bumper on the shiny limousine. "Where is our rented limousine going, Iredell?"

Cinco stands beside Arie and stares at her throat, saying with puzzlement. "Mama, where did you get that baby blue agate necklace?"

Arie wears a set of smooth beads in pale blue on a three-tiered choker, a pair of matching rounded balls on each one of her earlobes. She reaches up and gently touches the necklace with a smile to her son. "You are so astute, Cinco. Mr. Kant, he gave me the gems, which is like set of gifts, sorta." She moves away from the protective arms on Flamingo and strolls sideways towards Iredell.

"Why is that a set of gifts, sorta, mama?" Flamingo turns and snarls at Cinco.

Cinco leans over with a fake smile and a whisper into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "We did not find a single pale blue agate rock there inside that fish pond yesterday. All of the agate rocks came in the colors of yellow and red."

Flamingo whispers back with his fake smile. "Now, we can comprehend why that is so, Cinco."

Iredell ignores her husband and stands in front of her three grandsons, nodding with a smile. "My three southern gentlemen look so handsome and smart."

Breck hears the new sound on the driveway, spinning around with a smile, strolling away from the huddle towards a loose semi-row of horses without waving a hand which would scare each horse. He stops a few feet from the carriage and shouts out loud, where each horse is used to that, "Hey, Horace! How are you doing there, bro? Why are you dragging my blonde Palomino Quarter horse here from the cow pasture? And why is Cinco's black Quarter horse and Flamingo's red Dun Quarter here with you, also. And why is each horse clenched with the saddle for riding?"

Horace slowly steers an open carriage which is drawn by a team of four horses. Each Quarter horse is hitched onto the rear bumper, walking behind the moving vehicle. He smiles and stops the carriage bounding on top of the upper bench seat.

Inside the huddle, Cinco spins around with a smile and then swiftly walks, not runs towards his black-tinted stallion with extreme caution, not wanting to rear the wild beast on top of the driveway. He stops and stands, reaching out, un-tethering the pair of riding reins from bumper on the carriage, freeing his horse. He leans over and cuddles the skull on the steed into his chest while whispering a set of secret words into the horse's eardrum.

Horace continues to sit on top of the bench and points down at Arie, saying with a nod "Miss Arie explained..."

"...to me also." Darrel moves ahead, stops, and stands beside Breck, pointing at each Quarter horse, nodding with a smile. "The teens are riding a fleet of horses towards the Fort Redstone park site like a pack of real Confederate soldiers. The women-folk will tarry inside this horse-drawn buggy like a batch of real southern belles." Darrel smiles at each horse.

Breck turns and laughs at the cheekbone on Darrel. "I am unclear. Which one of the two categories do you fall into, Di...?"

"Darrel!" Robert Earl strolls from the front porch, stops, and stands beside Darrel, admiring the buggy and the horses. "He suggested the idea of you, lads prancing into the fierce fire of battle with your galloping steed..."

"...and shooting shotguns..." Breck nods with a chuckle at each horse.

Darrel turns and gasps at the nose profile on Breck. "No. No. No live weapons are allowed at this annual social event." He turns and sneers at the nose profile on Robert Earl. "Tell them, Robert Earl! The three teenagers cannot be allowed to bring a live active weapon into the gala dinner and dance."

Breck turns and smiles at the uniform on Darrel. The dark gray uniform displays a set of five yellow braids, when it is compared to Breck's three braids, which means Darrel outranks Granddaddy Balegreen. Breck laughs, "I'm only joshing with you, Di..."

"Darrel!" Iredell waddles ahead in her wide and fluffy plantation dress, sliding into the line of Robert Earl, Darrel, and Breck. She smiles at nose profile on Darrel, "Darrel, are you going to mount upon one of the Clydesdale horses for the pleasure ride, dear?" She turns and smiles at each horse. "I do not see your riding steed here."

"Where is the rented limousine, Iredell? The limousine dropped you off here. Then the rented limousine disappeared like the sinking ocean liner." Robert Earl frowns at his wife.

Breck turns and winks at Horace, saying with a smile. "Well, Darrel can ride a one of the Clydesdale horses. Is that mare Clydesdale saddle-broke, Horace?" The mare isn't fit to be ridden as a pleasure horse as it is a draft horse for working the farm land.

His eyelids smash up against his hairy eyebrows and as Darrel turns and exhibits facial fear at the large farm horse.

Iredell nods with a smile at the mare Clydesdale horse which is part of the carriage team. "I'm afraid that limousine had been rented by another party. So, Arie and I came up the idea of a horse-driven carriage to ride towards Fort Redstone which sorta feels like a real-life plantation owner from the year 1860. What do you think, husband of mine?" She views her husband and grins.

Robert Earl frowns at the carriage. "We are to ride inside that horse-driven carriage. The battlefield site is six miles of open highway from here to there, Iredell."

"Naw! The distance is shortened by the nature trail, Granddaddy." Breck nods with a smile.

"Nature trail! What nature trail are you referencing, Breck?" Robert Earl frowns at Breck.

Breck turns and points into the western horizon, nodding with a grin. "O! You truck your butt or buggy, in this case, about two miles due west of here and then turn due north. There's an overgrown of field weeds with a faint old wagon trail. The earlier settlers here in Lacy Springs had used the field of weeds and grass blades traveling back and forth into a young and growing Huntsville village market for a set of vital food supplies and winter gear. This will be some grand fun, Granddaddy."

Robert Earl gasps in shock and views his wife, "Iredell! We cannot possibility transverse inside an open coach through a setting of dangerous rock boulders and high weeds with bugs and then down through a deep river bed. The long and deep and wide Tennessee River waterway system separates the rural township of Lacy Springs from the huge military base Redstone Point. That is why the military built the weapon installation so close to the Tennessee River for both protection and isolation for our enemies."

Iredell laughs. "We're not a war, Robert Earl."

Breck continues to point toward the west and says with a nod and a smile. "There's an ancient wooden cross bridge, Granddaddy. The bridge is probably old and weathered-worn, but stable and steady. Even the shoes on each heavy Clydesdale horse can cross over the ancient wooden planks with no problem."

"Iredell!" Robert Earl frowns.

Horace points towards the western horizon and says with a smile and a nod. "Breck, he is correct as always as the leader of the triplet brothers. That ancient settler nature trail is half the distance from here which is only three short windy miles."

Iredell smiles at Horace. "Horace has sweetly volunteered to drive the old buggy for us, old folks. Then, he will retrieve three Quarter horse breeds from the reining post at the front gates on Fort Redstone marching the three horses safely back home to the cow ranch for oats and then sleep like a good critter. We can stay and have a fine night of dining and dancing, Robert Earl." She waves both of her arms in the air with a smile, slapping them down onto her fluffy plantation skirt, strolling ahead towards the open carriage, "Saddle up, grandsons! We don't wanna be late for the Union attack on Fort Redstone and then capture us some Yankee boys. Then we hang them at high noon, before the lunch meal."

"Yes ma'am!" Breck moves ahead, stops, and stands beside his blonde Palomino, pulling out the pair of riding reins from the rear bumper. He slowly back steps the horse from the carriage and then stops, double-checking the cinch and the saddle for any loose belts. He hears a tiny ping from his mobile telephone. He stops working on the saddle and reaches down into the jacket pocket, jerking out his mobile telephone. He reads the newest text message from Lacey, grinning with a big smile.

Iredell moves ahead first, scoots around the front bumper on the carriage, and finally stops in front of the other door-less carriage while lecturing for fun to Robert Earl and Darrel. "A Clydesdale is a breed of draught horse that wears a white blazed face and possesses four white tinted socks trailing up to their kneecaps in the colors of brown chestnut, black, bay, roan or grey. A male can stand tall at eighteen hands, weighing up to 2,200 pounds. The horse is well-muscled and strong with an arched neck, high withers, and a sloped shoulder. Their gaits are energetic show of lifted hooves with both power and beauty from the feathering of hair around their lower legs."

Flamingo and Arie continue to pose beautifully on the opposite side on the carriage.

Cinco swiftly moves away from his Quarter horse and assists Iredell up into the buggy, lifting her up by the waistline and as she holds both of her gloved hands onto the interior railing. She slowly glides across the lip on the absent door frame and then stumbles down into the rear bench, sitting on top of the tan colored soft fabric, wearing a smile. She watches Darrel.

Darrel strolls ahead towards the door-less entrance, stops, and stands at the nose profile on Flamingo, looking inside the interior of the open carriage, saying with a sour frown. "Where do I sit?"

Flamingo rolls his eyes and scoots behind the back spine on his mother, reaching out, placing his hands over her waistline and says with a stern face. "Up you go, Mama!" He lifts her high in the air and places her sandals on the lip of the door-less frame. He releases her waistline and turns with a smile to see the nose profile on Darrel, "Southern gentleman style."

Inside the carriage, Arie holds onto the interior railing and then stumbles ahead in both her high heels and her wide plantation dress towards an empty spot on the rear bench, sitting down next to Iredell, sounding with a deep sign of relieve in the long ball gown.

On top of the driveway, Cinco assists Robert Earl into the carriage interior also. Robert Earl parks down on the front bench seat that faces the rear of the carriage, frowning in silence at both Arie and Iredell and the huddle of Quartet horses.

At the carriage entrance, Flamingo back steps from the door and spins around with a smile, moving ahead towards his Quarter horse.

Breck has un-tethered the Dun Quarter horse for Flamingo. The horse leans down and munches on the fresh green grasslets in the manicured yard.

Flamingo stops and stands beside his horse, hiking his leg over the saddle, mounting the leather and wiggles his ass and both of his boot toes down into each saddle stirrup. He gathers the pair of riding reins in one hand, readying for the pleasure ride towards the old grounds at Fort Redstone.

Inside the carriage, Darrel sits misery on top of the hard, uncomfortable wooden bench and in the uncomfortable heated weather staring at Arie.

On top of the driver's platform, Horace releases a hand whip in the air cracking the leather with a soft pop. Each Clydesdale horse has been trained to move forward with the snapping sound and jolts the tiny carriage into a rough ride over the smooth driveway heading over the manicured grass. Both Arie and Iredell giggle with a girly twang for the fun carriage ride.

Flamingo slowly trots his horse ahead and then stops, slowly walking a few feet away from the absent doorway on the carriage. Cinco trots, parks, and walks his horse beside Flamingo.

Breck flanks the opposite side on the carriage trotting a few feet away from the other doorway.

Flamingo rides his steed and scans the landscape, saying with a smile. "What's the weather outlook, Cinco?" He wants to annoy Darrel with the entire trip, turning and winks down at Darrel. "I don't want to get wet from a light rain shower this morning."

"We are all going to be located inside a cool air-conditioned building almost the entire time for both the dining and the dancing, Flamingo." Robert Earl looks up and frowns at Flamingo.

Cinco drops the pair of riding reins over the saddle horn and as his horse is trained by familiar whistle tone and the leg power from Cinco. He whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard and reads out loud the information on the tiny screen. "The high temperature for today is ninety fucking degrees in Fahrenheit. Poo! That's hot, ya'll. Within the month of September, the daily high temperatures can range from ninety fucking-ass degrees to seventy-nine slightly warm degrees in Fahrenheit from noon high sun to moon light evening. The relative humidity percent can range from forty-eight, which is comfortable, to fifty-seven percent, which is mildly humid and up toward ninety-four percent, which is very ass-blowing humid. And the relative humidity could reach as high as one hundred percent which is very, very, very ass-blowing humid. Currently, the air humidity is eighty-seven percent which is very uncomfortable."

"Breck." Flamingo continues to ride and smiles. The carriage slowly moves over the rough part of the yard with the thick weeds and exposed tree roots.

Breck twirls the pair of riding reins around the saddle horn, switching his mobile telephone from the text mode and accesses the internet, wearing a smile. He types on the tiny keyboard and reads out loud the information. "A dew point is the official measurement of how much smelly non-sticky wet disgusting sweat evaporates from the heated skin on Flamingo which thereby cools down his body. A lower dew point feels dry. A high dew point feels more humid. The dew point varies greatly from fifty-one degree in Fahrenheit which is very comfortable to seventy degrees in Fahrenheit which is muggy but not below thirty-nine degrees in Fahrenheit, which is dry and rare for the great State of Alabama. Now, it is eighty-six degrees in Fahrenheit which is very muggy."

"Cinco." Flamingo continues to grin and walks his steed over the short grass blades.

Cinco reads out loud the information on the tiny screen. "For the month of September in Bama, the typical wind speeds can vary from zero miles-per-hour to six miles-per-hour, a light breeze to twelve miles-per-hour or a gentle breeze to thirteen miles-per-hour. That's a moderate breeze. But it rarely exceeds eighteen miles-per-hour which is classified as a fresh breeze."

"Breck." Flamingo grins.

Breck reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "The wind blows out from the north fourteen percent of the time. The wind blows from the northeast direction six percent of the time while an eastern wind blow comes at thirteen percent of the time. A southeastern blow is sixteen percent of the time while the southern winds come at twelve percent of the time. A southwest wind blow measures seven percent of the time. The western wind speed is nine percent of the time while the northwest wind speed is ten percent of the time. Currently..."

"Wait!" Flamingo turns and frowns at Breck. "That is not one hundred percent of wind speed, Breck."

Breck frowns at Flamingo. "That value does not sum to hundred percent, my smart-ass brother of mine, because the wind direction is undefined when the wind speed is zero point zero, bro."

"That is an excellent explanation, first born triplet," Cinco chuckles.

"Cinco." Flamingo smiles.

Cinco says. "Currently, the wind speed is three miles-per-hour. The relative humidity is eighty-seven percent. The barometer reading is 30.04 for a fine hot day. The visibility is ten miles. The heat index is eighty-six degrees in Fahrenheit while making our outdoor day of play at ninety degrees in Fahrenheit..."

"Boys!" Arie looks up and extends her gloved hand, saying with her fake smile to Breck.

Breck looks down and winks at Arie, "Yes, Mama!"

"Please surrender your mobile telephone to me, boys. This is a social face-to-face annual event. That calls for a set of social southern gentlemen manners, using a smiling face, instead of a thumb pad." Arie wiggles her gloved fingers at Breck first. Breck doesn't smile but kindly surrenders his mobile telephone to his mother. Cinco and Flamingo turn over a mobile telephone to Iredell, who holds her gloved hand in the air.

Arie collects each mobile telephone and then stores each item down inside a hidden panel that was built into a side panel on the horse-drawn carriage. She nods with a stern face. "Why didn't ya'll ride ahead of us and scout for any downed trees or other natural woodlands obstacles that the carriage might encounter which will impede our journey."

"Shore, Mama!" Flamingo kicks the guts on his stallion roaming ahead of the rolling carriage. He replaces his cowboy hat with that nasty ass-baseballs cap which has been hidden inside the interior pocket on his frock coat. He wraps the cowboy hat string around the saddle horn as the rapid speed from a galloping Quarter horse will toss off his flying headwear.

"Race ya, Flamingo!" Cinco kicks both of his boot heels into the fat stomach on Zeus as the horse starting to trot roughly beside Flamingo. Cinco uses fingers searching for the piece of horse hair string inside his hat that located near the memorial bow. A memorial bow inside each cowboy hat honors the yesteryear past cowboy hatters, who happened to develop brain damage from the earlier mixtures of felt fabric which was treated with toxic mercury that gave rise to the old expression, "Mad as a Hatter."

The early cowboy hat had used the earth element of mercury in the making of felt fabric. When the human body absorbed the deadly mercury, it caused a series of violent and uncontrollable twitching motions within a human's muscle such as spasms. The tiny silk bow inside the hatband at the rear of the cowboy hat resembles a Skull and Crossbones design.

Breck trots his horse ahead in front of the moving carriage, joining the row of horse. He slaps down the brim over both of his eyebrows for the upcoming fast-paced race. "Line up! Fair and square now! Start the race for us, Granddaddy!" Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco trots ahead and then halts each horse fifty-feet away from the slow-moving carriage.

Cinco sits on top of the saddle and smiles at the rough forest trail. "The first one to the old wooden bridge is the official winner of the horse race." The old truss bridge is made of oak wood, forming a series of entangling triangular figures within the curved wood, decorating the outer sides of the enclosed structure, so dumb-ass individuals do not fall into the flowing water of the Tennessee River.

"Agreed!" Flamingo sits in the saddle and nods his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap, staring with a wicked grin at the same rough nature trail.

"All right!" Breck grins at the unfamiliar forest pathway.

"Get ready! Set!" Darrel sits inside the open carriage and spins around, staring at the line of rumps on each horse. A single bullet coming from the hand gun loudly echoes in the air and as the piece of fired metal flies in the geographical direction west out into an open cow pasture minus the cows.

The red tinted Dun Quarter horse rears upright and stands on top of its back hoofs with fright hearing the single gunshot sound. "Shit!" Flamingo swiftly grabs the saddle horn with his free hand and a wad of red-colored mane with the other hand, squeezing both of his kneecaps into the horse's barrel while hanging on for dear life to keep from falling his ass backwards from the dancing horse. He continues to loudly cuss; but he can't be heard over the stallion's frightful braying sounds.

The blonde colored Palomino stallion swiftly performs a sidestep dance away from Flamingo with Breck on top of the saddle. The horse experiences both a flight and fear reaction coming from the surprised loud gunshot sound. Breck quickly grabs the saddle horn with one hand, viciously jerking the pair of neck reins to the opposite side while trying to halt the horse from its sideways dance. The wild stallion slows down and then halts while Breck cusses loudly.

The black tinted stallion Zeus leaps from the earth into the air and then lands on the front legs which are followed by its two hind legs, swiftly racing ahead across the open field. A set of four hoofs underneath the belly of the beast stomp down the dirt and each weed speeding down the unfamiliar clear nature trail. Cinco crouches down low into the hairy neck on his stallion while tasting the mane hair. The pair races ahead first straight towards the covered bridge which is measured at one mile.

On top of the ground and away from the moving carriage, Breck reaches down and gently pats down the neck on his horse while calming the wild beast. He kicks both of his boot heels into the barrel belly on the stallion. His stallion performs a swift gallop over the dirt, passing by Flamingo.

The red tinted Dun Quarter horse drops both of its front legs back down in the dirt. Flamingo catches his breath and then kicks both of his boot heels into the gut on the stallion. The stallion races ahead trying to catch Breck as a set of tiny swirls of red tornados whirl in the air waves.

The old forest trail is barren of tree trunks and rows of plant bushes presenting a plot of flat grass, dried yellow-tinted short weeds, and pods of colored wildflowers, where decade years of steel wagon wheels had dented down the soil into a flattened, faint hard surface of red dirt, making the impromptu horse race both safe and fun.

The blonde colored Quarter horse turns to the right and then cuts back towards the center of the dirt path as Breck whips with his cowboy hat at the hind quarters on the Palomino coaching the horse faster, changing its direction towards the mouth on the stationary wooden bridge and flies at top speed.

Flamingo is dead last in the heated horse race, galloping ten feet behind Breck.

In the short distance, Cinco crosses the wooden bridge first taking Zeus in a single trot over the rough planks. The old bridge had been used for decades making the wooden plank both worn and rotten in some spots.

Breck and Flamingo continue to race across the grass, weeds, dirt, and flowers heading towards the single entrance at the dark mouth on the old bridge, following the rump on Zeus.

Flamingo jerks the riding reins backwards and shouts out loud. "Whoa!" His horse drops down into a trot. Flamingo sits his upper torso upright from a low body galloping stance and studies the wooden bridge.

Breck reaches the edge on the wooden bridge and halts his horse, waiting for Flamingo at the entrance way.

Flamingo slowly walks his horse beside Breck and wears a sour frown, entering the darkness of the old bridge. "Why does Diarrhea have a live hand gun that holds a single bullet?"

Breck shakes his cowboy hat and wears an angry brow. "Dunno! But when I find Diarrhea alone inside the Men's Bathroom shitting out some dinner turds inside one of the closed stalls, then he's fucking dead."

Flamingo emerges first on the other side of the open bridge and moves across the smooth short ground of weeds and grass while gritting his teeth, "Ditto for me! Fucking asshole Diarrhea could have caused permanent bodily injured or worse maimed each one of our Quarter horses."

Breck sneers. "Or worse, Diarrhea could have injured or maimed one of us." They slowly pad each horse over the short grass, slowly walking towards a set of open double gates, introducing the Guard House on the ground of Fort Redstone.

Flamingo moves beside Breck and scans the new landscape. "We get Diarrhea away from our mama for fifteen minutes. Then we beat the shit out of his person. Then we go back and kidnap our mama and take her back to the parked limousine inside the parking lot. Then we all go back home happy while his ass bleeds over the nasty bathroom tiles." He steers the horse towards a grazing Zeus, who is tied to the landing post at Fort Redstone along with a row of other steeds, minus Cinco.

Breck turns and frowns at the new scenery also. "Well, it's going to be hard beating and bleeding Diarrhea with that live weapon firing more hot and heated bullets from his practice right shooting hand, bro."

"Not for Cinco!" Flamingo halts his horse with laughter and then slides down into the nicely manicured grass in front of the fence post, tying the horse to the post with the riding reins.

Horace will come and collect each animal after dropping off the passengers from the open carriage at the entrance of the Plantation House which is another mile up the gravel driveway.

"Hell! With Cinco's luck, he'll find the son of a bitch first while leaving us out of the Birthday Party fun." Breck laughs and secures the pair of riding reins around the wooden railing also. He turns to face the entrance and sees Cinco.

Cinco dashes ahead and moves away from the entrance gate and the guard house, waving both of his arms in the air, wearing with a smile and shouts out loud a string of nasty curse words for fun at his two brothers.

"Right!" Flamingo back steps from the wooden railing and scoots around the horse, pulling up beside Breck, staring at Cinco also.

Cinco stops and stands in front of his two brothers, still waving both of his arms and grins with numerous head nods, "Did you see me and Zeus go fast first? He's a great reining horse. I don't even need to hold the reins, just tap his leg in the geographical direction that I wanna go."

Flamingo scoots around Cinco and moves ahead towards the guard house, the only entrance point into Fort Redstone for the fun re-enactment event. He smiles. "Good for you, Cinco."

Cinco swings around and strolls beside Flamingo, saying with a smile. "An American Quarter horse is a stocky, short horse that's a specialized sprinter..."

"We know that, Cinco." Flamingo discourages with a brotherly tone.

"An American Quarter horse is a bit leggy and thick in the barrel with a set of big hips like a sexy girl and a short head like a geeky boy plus a pleasurable personality like one of Breck's whores which is great for herding a pasture of dumb cows."

"We got it, Cinco." Flamingo discourages for a second time. The three brothers slowly move ahead towards the guard house.

"An American Quarter horse possesses a stockier body form with a barrel chest, a set of thick muscular back legs, and big rump starting off from a dead run to attain the top speed which is needed to win the race like me and Zeus. Yeehaw!" Cinco laughs.

"Enough, Cinco!" Flamingo frowns.

"Flamingo is crying wet tears, since his horse lost the race." Breck chuckles.

"The American Quarter horse is the fastest horse in the world, Flamingo." Cinco smiles.

"We know that." Flamingo says.

"The American Quarter horse is able to gallop at a top speed of fifty-five miles-per-hour. I bet, me and Zeus were pumping at sixty miles-per-hour..."

"Naw," Flamingo stops with a frown and stands at the end of the guest line in front of the guard house.

Cinco stops and stands beside the nose profile on Flamingo for more annoying fun. "An American Quarter horse can travel a quarter mile in less than twenty-one seconds starting from a flat-footed stance."

"An American Quarter is the dragster within the horse racing world." Breck leans over and laughs into the cheekbone on Flamingo for more annoying fun.

Cinco leans over and spits into the cheekbone on Flamingo for fun also. "The current world record for an American Quarter horse is 440 yards at 20.274 seconds, which is 1.21 minutes in a mile." The three brothers continue to stand in the line and then slowly move ahead towards the busy guard house before entering the Fort Redstone grounds.

Flamingo smiles and studies the short line of invited guests. "The current world's record was performed on a flat race horse track with a pair of properly shod horse shoes within that race horse which had been used to attain that maximum speed," he turns and frowns at Cinco. "Do not ever imitate that wild horse race performance here in Lacy Springs, Cinco."

Cinco turns and smiles at the guard house. "We can't get inside the Fort. Our names ain't on that invited guest list. So, I guess we get to go back home. Let's go and drop down back to Mohawk Patch, dig up our newly found Alabama golden nuggets which are hidden underneath that dead horse corpse."

Flamingo reaches up and exchanges his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap with the new rebel cowboy hat, before his mother Arie becomes mad or worse, his Grandmother Balegreen gets pissed off at her cute and adorable grandson. No one messes around with Grandmother Balegreen! He exhales with a sour frown. "Bullshit, Cinco!"

"Explain your reasoning, bro!" Breck frowns at the guard house.

Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air with a smile and then slaps them back down onto his dirty trousers. "I can't explain an awesome miracle, Breck." Flamingo smiles and leads his two brothers towards the guard house.

An overweight guard is dressed in a similar gray-tinted Confederate outfit with a similar gray tinted felt cowboy hat that hides half of his ugly face, holding a plastic clip board with each invited guest name. He views at Flamingo. "Name, please!"

Flamingo stops in front of the guard and nods with a grin slapping his chest. "I am Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fourth. Beside me, this is Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the third and the fifth."

The guard looks down and marks off each announced name, looking up with a smile to see Flamingo. "Is Mrs. Arie Balegreen your mama, son?"

Flamingo smiles, "Yes sir! Arie Balegreen, my mama is coming by horse carriage in a few more minutes to see you and attend this fine social event, sir."

The guard smiles, "Excellent! You all make enter, gentlemen."

"Thanks, kindly." Flamingo struts through the open gates first while crunching down the white gravel, leading his two brothers.

Cinco moves last behind the back spine on Breck and then dashes ahead, pulling up beside Flamingo. Breck marches next to Flamingo. Cinco turns and frowns at the new landscape, turning to see the nose profile on Flamingo. "I had gotten us out of this thing silly thing, Flamingo. My name was not on that invitation list. I go by Cinco. Geez! I never use Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fifth. Nobody uses Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fifth. Nobody knows me as Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fifth."

The three brothers slowly stroll ahead and move among the scattered crowd of Alabamians. Each male is dressed in a dull gray colored frock coat. Each female wears a pretty, pastel plantation dress.

The three brothers shuffle through the battlefield action on the top of the nicely manicured grass lawn between rows of low-lying short green tinted plant and flower bushes and lines of tall shade trees on Fort Redstone.

"That's your Christian name, Cinco. And you'll be addressed by that name in college and then forever more and more and more," Flamingo chuckles. "So, get used to it, now, not later, son!"

Breck exhales with a sour frown and stares at the new landscape and activities. "We are here, and we do not go around upsetting our mama either, Cinco!"

"Right!" Cinco exhales with a soft moan of tender feelings for his sweet mother.

Flamingo smiles, "Anyways, we're going to murder Diarrhea while we're stuck here, sometime and somewhere late within the moonlight evening hours."

"I suggest right after sunset between the groves of magnolia trees. Then we can bury the dead bloody body inside the good-smelling flora garden underneath one of the thorny rose bushes. I like the color of yellow which represents our parting friendship." Cinco laughs with Flamingo.

"Where is the grove of magnolia trees? Where is the thorny flora garden?" Breck continues to strut ahead with his two brothers, turning with a puzzled brow to see the new scenery.

"I saw an outlined landscape there on the internet here at the fort, before we left the house. Why is Diarrhea carrying a live weapon with one bullet? Does he have more bullets inside that gun?" Cinco frowns.

"The gun is protection from us, triplets. Now, since we, three are going to beat his ass black and blue for shooting that gun, perturbing the air waves and my ass hole." Flamingo sneers.

"I hope we get a mug of cold beer to celebrate our murder victory." Cinco turns and scans the landscape.

"Hush it, Cinco!" Breck frowns.

"What the fuck is this?" Cinco moves ahead and gasps in shock stomping by a row of three fake dummy bodies. Each dummy body is painted in red tinted color lying horizontal on top of the manicured green lawn several feet from the front porch on the Redstone Plantation House.

Flamingo stumbles his boot toe over one of the horizontal bodies that is painted in red colors of blood and wearing a set of white tinted bandages over the body.

The ground live human yells out loud and touches his stomach after the minor injury, "Hey, asshole! I'm down here. Are you blind or dumb?" Flamingo, Cinco, and Breck strut ahead and chuckle with amusement.

Flamingo moves closer to the plantation house while searching for a food table. "This is a temporary medical field hospital that has been spread out and across the manicured lawn property imitating the real Battle of Redstone. Hundreds of dumb ass and stupid hicks play rows of fake wounded and dying rebel soldiers. A set of fake physicians carry a black leather bag of nothing while trying to save their fake ass. This is very similar to the choo-choo train depot scene within the Hollywood movie _Gone with the Wind_ but smaller in deaths and landscape."

Cinco frowns down at each dummy or live body. "What's up these people's assholes? We lost the damn war..."

"Hush, bro!" Breck spins around with a worried brow and then completes the circle, leaning over the chest on Flaming, talking to Cinco. "Do not shout out loud those vile words around these crazy rednecks, Cinco. Someone will come and attack your body with a real horse whip and then beat you silly," he stands upright and scans the new landscape with a stern face.

"Right!" Flamingo chuckles.

Each pretty southern belle wears a colorful paisley long dress over a hooped skirt, marching in the grass in a pair of fashion high heeled sandals with nicely manicured toenails while strolling around each fake solider body on top of the grass as each body rests on top of a soft white blanket like a wussie baby. Each southern belle carries a smile and a wooden tray of real food and beverages, consisting of snacks, tiny cups of heated coffee, and tall cold beer bottles.

Cinco reaches over and steals three bottles of beer as the southern belle walks away from the three brothers. Cinco doles out each cold beer bottle to each brother and then he slurps down the cold liquid.

The flowing dress tail over the grass and attached to the young, pretty-looking Southern belle is coated in red tinted paint splatters that simulate a horizontal band of fake human blood from each dying Confederate rebel soldier and as she slowly scurries around each fake dummy and real human body.

Breck jabs his finger down at the red spots on her antebellum skirt, covering in the color of dark maroon red, saying in baritone. "That be blood."

"That be sick." Flamingo frowns down at the painted dress tail on the shuffling southern belle.

Cinco smiles, "You know, the old McCory gravesite holds three un-marked graves of three un-known soldiers from the American Civil War."

"Don't go ghoul on me, bro!" Breck slowly sips the cold beer and strolls ahead towards a crowded front porch behind a group of other southern belles and beaus.

"Stop scratching your fleas, Cinco." Flamingo continues to move with his two brothers and scans the new landscape, strutting toward the plantation house, where food is being served for a late lunch meal.

"The rebel jacket itches." Cinco scratches between the third and fourth buttons on his gray tinted frock coat while sucking down the last of the cold beer. "Why can't I bring my real gun and show these dang rednecks how to really shoot the enemy between the eyeballs?"

A series of loud fleeing whistles in the far distance sounds from a set of barely visible fireworks, which is almost completely hidden by the beams of bright sunshine rays. The noise bursts throughout the air waves over each gray tinted hat and colorful hair roots. Each belle and beau drop down and gently land on top of the soft blanket, covering both hands over each eardrum or hat.

Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco halt in place and laugh at the silly Alabamians. Each brother struts ahead within a line and look up, narrowing a pair of eyelids at the clear baby blue sky in Bama, searching for the loud visual bombardment of fireworks. The eyeballs cannot find any significant streaks of colorful fire. Then each pair of eyeballs looks down to the ground and as each brother does not trip over each silly Alabamian on top of the blanket.

Flamingo leads the brothers with laughter towards the front porch on the plantation house. "And Lacey calls me a redneck."

In front of the bricked steps on the plantation house, a pretty-looking southern belle in a coral plantation dress stands on top of the modern-day vanilla-tinted walkway and holds a black-tinted microphone near her smile, waving her free arm in the air. "You can all eyewitness up there a set of flaring fires and hear the heated exchange of explosive guns and muskets that permeate over the Alabama sky during the terrible attack on Fort Redstone during a hot summer afternoon. This re-enactment battlefield shows the possession of Fort Redstone during the Civil War of 1865 following the defeat of all the Confederate soldiers, when the Union Army soldier came here and then confiscated the plantation house, the plantation grounds, the plantation crops, the plantation furniture, and finally the plantation slaves.

"The Union scumbag soldiers used this very beautiful antebellum home as their military hospital for their injured and dying patients coming from both the Union and Confederate troops, thus sparing the plantation house from total destruction of fire and smoke."

A herd of frightened fake deer dashes out from the thick green tinted woodlands and howl like a wolf. Each deer-person is a male, who wears a red paint on a naked chest, racing across the grass. A set of fake Yankee/Union soldiers dashes away from the woodlands as each solider wears a blue tinted jacket and carries a fake rifle firing at each running fake deer-person. Both the fake deer-persons and the fake soldiers slowly run towards the antebellum house during the reenactment battle.

One by one, each deer-person dies and then drops down on top of the manicured grass. Each Union army soldier stops and admires the deer-person.

The three brothers move ahead with laughter.

Cinco frowns. "Wished I had my gun, then we would have a plate of juicy deer meat for supper tonight."

An elementary student dashes ahead from the scattered Union army, holds a fake hand gun in his hand, and stops, standing in front of Cinco. The short kid wears a blue jacket and a pair of blue jeans with a head of dark hair, pointing his fake toy hand gun into the gray trousers on Cinco, shouting out loud, "Bang! You are dead, sir. I killed you, sir. So, you gotta lay down on the ground as a dead person for the battle." Cinco, Flamingo, and Breck halt and then laugh at the young kid.

Cinco reaches out with a sneer and then viciously shoves the child away from his body with fury. "Fuck off, kid! Before, I beat your ass black and blue for annoying me."

The kid slaps his chest with a sissy whine to Cinco. "But I'm Union. You're Confederate."

"Now, laddie!" Cinco stomps forward with a loud growl. The kid quickly back pedals from the tall teenager and then spins around running away from the three brothers. Flamingo and Breck laugh out loud. Cinco leads his two brothers towards the front porch with a string of loud cuss words.

On the far end of the front porch, a second southern belle with blonde-tinted hair and dark suntanned skin wears a red-blood coated dress apron and with a matching set of skirt tails on her yellow tinted plantation gown, smiling with her narrative. "However, each small battle brings both deprivation and danger to each plantation owner and their plantation slaves as the Union and Confederate forces over yonder continue to skirmish in each front yard while the young children safely hide down inside the root cellar."

Breck, Cinco, and Flamingo move through the crowds and then halt on top of the second bricked step while waiting a turn to enter the plantation house.

The same southern belle points with a smile at one of many vertical porch columns. "Many types of physical evidence still exist today from the numerous battle scars of the American Civil War. These can be found, if you dare to search properly, revealing the real violence between the clash of human bones and bodies. The evidence is still visible today here on each ancient, crumbling column that had been riddled with a series of ancient muskets balls leaving a set of everlasting deep pits within the wood."

Flamingo stands on the second bricked step and turns to examine nearest columns, whispering for his eardrums only. "The evidence is still visible today."

The same southern belle smiles at each guest, pointing at the manicured yard. "Twenty-two Confederates, who were composed of our very own devoted and dictated Alabama farmers, lost their precious lives on this front porch here at the Redstone Plantation including the prominent wealthy cotton baron named General Hiram McCory. Each cold blue-tinted body had been laid out in sun light for the last time as a row of gentile southern gentlemen, after the Battle of Redstone. Still visible, today, there are the tiny remnants of blood droplets staining the tender fibers on top of the wooden planks, if you dare to search the wood properly."

"The evidence is still visible today." Flamingo cuts his eyeballs towards the wooden porch, searching for any faint tiny remnant of human blood proteins.

Cinco moves ahead and elbows his tallness through the crowd desiring a spot inside the cool house from the harsh sunlight. He plows ahead and lands inside an empty rocking chair for comfort underneath the cool veranda.

Breck and Flamingo follow the back spine on Cinco, then spin around, sitting down in row of rocking chairs, rocking back and forth, enjoying the new scenery. They laugh out loud and point at the silly gentile southern gentlemen and proper, pretty ladies.

On top of the front porch, numerous faked and dying Confederate soldiers rest uncomfortably on top of the naked wooden planks as a group of individual fake medical physicians and a set of friendly cute pretty belles attend to each actor.

One of the real Confederate soldiers appears from the battlefield and carries a wounded solider across his collar bone, stops and then slams the human body flat on top of the hardwood porch, laughing with a smile.

His friend yells out loud and wiggles side to side in pain on top of the planks, "Ouch, Richard! That hurt my body! Be careful with the property. I ain't really dead, boy." Richard laughs again and slowly pivots shuffling back into the fake battle field.

Within the row of rocking chairs, Flamingo slowly rises with a smile and tips back the cowboy hat from his eyeballs, staring down at one of the pretend injured Confederate soldiers on top of the planks near the rocking chair. He squats down and leans over, whispering into the pale tinted cheekbone on the healthy Confederate soldier. "I'm a doctor, soldier. What ails your body, sonny?"

The fake Confederate soldier displays a gray tinted jacket and a pair of matching trousers, except his jacket is covered in red paint. He opens his two eyelids and sneers at Flamingo. "Are you blind, asshole? Can't your eyeballs see each one my blood wound leaking out from my guts?"

"Sorry there, sir! I broke my eye specs during the bone-sawing of another broken leg on a dead Union Jackass," Flamingo winks at the Confederate soldier. He turns and winks at his two brothers, viewing the Confederate soldier again, leaning down into the sweaty face. "How about I fix you up good, laddie?"

The Confederate soldier closes his two eyelids, thumping both his arms down on top of the wooden porch, exhaling with annoyance. "That's why I am here, dumb ass. That's the point of the fun here, asshole. The Redstone re-enactment is to honor our dead and learn how they sacrificed..."

Flamingo plows his folded fist down onto the healthy nose cartridge on the fake Confederate soldier. A set of blood proteins leaps up from the broken nostrils on the unconscious Confederate soldier in the air then land back down on Flamingo's gray suit jacket and his naked fist. Breck and Cinco chuckle out loud with a nod at the medical treatment from Flamingo.

Flamingo leans down and whispers into bloody cheekbone on the unconscious Confederate male. "You're fixed up good, now, snot-hole." He swiftly stands and swings around from the unconscious male and the row of rocking chairs, following the back spin on Cinco, yelling out loud, "Yeehaw! This doctoring stuff is great. Let's go and help some other wounded Confederate redneck."

"I wanna be the doctor this time." Cinco laughs and leads into the large and coolly air-conditioned foyer.

At 01:31 pm, in the foyer, the entrance hall is painted in bright yellow paint containing fifteen feet high ceiling that stands even with the second story staircase, measuring twenty feet wide. A new southern belle with brown tinted hair and glowing white skin wears a pink and white colored plantation dress with a line of red paint on the dress hem, smiling at the crowd of guests that surround her body, flinging her naked arm in the air waves. "Many war soldiers died here inside this very house or out there on the wooden porch or in over there the red clay here at the Redstone Plantation as the fighting continued during lunchtime meal."

A tour group consisting of numerous belle and beau guests shuffles away from the entrance hallway and move down a side hallway away from the southern belle narrator.

Breck leads the triplet brothers and steps over each fake human body and then dummy body on top of the nicely polished hardwood floor, stopping and stands behind the rear of the audience.

In front of the female narrator, three belles and an ugly male squat down on the floor and pretend to sew a needle and a long strand of white thread through a dummy body of red paint. The male plays the parts of both the medical physician and the dying soldier while screaming out loud from the pretend medical operation and then laughs with the belles in amusement.

Flamingo stands between his two brothers and leans over, slapping the arm on Breck and then points at the wall corner behind Breck's butt-hole. A young couple shares a settee in bright red colors and passionately kisses each other's face within the semi-dark corner inside the entrance hallway.

Flamingo slowly back steps and then stops, standing in front of three naked wooden tables that hold a set of real pieces of medical equipment of doctoring tools during the American Civil War. He lifts...naw...steals one of the smaller sharp knives, hiding it behind his back spine, slowly stepping back into the triplet line. He reaches over and elbows Cinco.

Cinco turns and frowns at the kissing couple and then looks at Flamingo, seeing the small medical knife in the fighting hand on his brother. Cinco leans over and smiles into the cheekbone on Flamingo without disturbing the actor performance of the physician. "I double-dog dare ya, dude."

Flamingo back steps again in a clear spot and draws back the stolen knife between his right earlobe and the empty air space, pitching the weapon with perfect aim. The small sharp tip hits the side wall clearing three inches from the curly brown-tinted hair roots on the kissing male.

The triplets duck down a cowboy hat and turn, dashing down the side hallway out of sight while laughing out loud from the excellent exhibition of war.

"Hey!" The unknown angry male pulls back from the kiss on the girl and looks up to see the wiggling knife a few inches above his hair roots, turning with a sneer to see his attacker.

At 01:34 pm, inside the wide hallway, Breck leads his two brothers in a vertical line down a narrow hallway and wears a sour frown, turning to scan each open archway for his mother. "We go and find our mama."

Cinco turns and stares into each empty room, saying with a sour frown. "Yeah, we go and take our mama and my best stallion back home getting out of this Confederate Twilight Zone." Flamingo follows behind Cinco and turns to scan each room also in silence.

Breck follows the crowd through an open archway and stops a few feet into the room while discovering a banquet of food items.

Cinco scoots around Breck and smiles with delight. "Okay. We go home, after we eat. Then we go and find out mama and get outta of here." He moves ahead towards the first food table, grabbing an empty plate.

Wooden tables line the long side of the room and display a blue and yellow cloth with open platters of cold and heated food items. Cinco slowly shuffles down the row of banquet tables, filling his plate with good-smelling food, eating the food that drops straight down into his empty stomach. His brothers follow behind Cinco with a plate of food also.

Cinco exits the last banquet table and grabs three cool beverages, turning to face the side wall, moving ahead toward the dark wall corner with an empty high-standing circle wooden table without a chair. Each guest is encouraged to enjoy the food and then leave the banquet room, touring the rest of the plantation house, before the evening dance. Cinco stops and places the plate on top of the hard surface, consuming the food in silence. Breck and Flamingo join Cinco, eating in silence.

Flamingo chews with pair of open lips and spits chewed particles across the table. "What are we going to do about Diarrhea?"

Breck swallows the food and smiles. "I told you the plotted plan earlier, Flamingo. We find and attack his ass after sunset, right after suppertime meal, when our mama is inside the bathroom doing her female thing. She won't know what really happened to Diarrhea. Then, we tell our mama that Diarrhea got sick to his stomach and has left for the night."

"I get to beat his ass first. Flamingo is lookout. And Breck holds the patio door open into the Rose Garden." Cinco wipes his mouth with his hand and then laughs.

"Naw!" Flamingo frowns. "I get to beat his ass first. Then you go and beat his ass second, Cinco. Breck gets to bang his two hairy balls for shit and giggles just like Frank Mangrove," he chuckles with brothers.

"Finish up, lads! We need to go and check out the rose garden and find the perfect spot to store an unconscious bloody body for the evening, without a belle accidentally discovering shit ass by mistake." Breck wipes his mouth with the paper napkin like a good southern beau.

Flamingo nods with a smile of food particles between his teeth. "Good point, man!"

Cinco swallows the food and then burps out loud, slapping his chest and wears a smile. "The chow is really good here. Do you see a beer bottle for my dessert?"

Flamingo turns and nods at the entrance wall. "There is a beverage bar with a bartender, who can supply our dessert dishes."

"And as the leader of the triplets, I will acquire our dessert bottles," Breck whips out one crisp fifty-dollar bill in his hand with a bright smile, chuckling with his brothers.

Flamingo lifts the dirty plate from the surface and back steps from the table, spinning around, moving ahead towards the rear wall that holds a wooden naked table of dirty dishes. He leads his brothers with their dirty plates, stops, surrounding one of the tables. "Let's finish our tour and our beer and then go and find Diarrhea."

Cinco gently drops his dirty plate on top of the surface and says with a sour frown, "Not in the same sentence, I'll get sick to my stomach, dude." He burps out loud from the nice food patting his chest. Breck places his dirty place on top of the naked table, spinning around with a smile, slowly moving ahead towards the beverage bar.

At the beverage bar, Breck slams into the wooden bar counter first. Flamingo and Cinco park around him. Breck folds a single fifty-dollar bill in his fingers and then slides the money over the smooth counter to the bartender. The bartender cuts his eyeballs down at the approaching dark green money bill. Breck smiles at the bartender. "Three long necks for three thirsty guys, sir."

The bartender accepts the money and looks up with a smile, opening three cold bottles of beer for the three teen-asses.

Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco each take a cold bottle of beer and swing around from the bartender, exiting the banquet room while enjoying the beer, searching for their mother.

Breck moves down the same hallway then stops at the open archway, viewing the commotion.

A pretend Civil War physician stands behind a wooden table and holds an ancient hand saw with a set of sharp steel teeth that is draped in red paint. The hand saw drops down and hovers over the naked leg on the dummy soldier, slicing down into the red tinted hay strands and dead meat from a cow. The red cow blood drips down and covers the floor.

Inside the room in the far wall corner, a new southern belle with red tinted hair and pink tinted skin wears a dark green and white colored plantation dress with the bottom dress tail covered in red paint, pointing with a smile to each wall. "The walking floors at numerous southern cotton plantations had become permanently stained with gallons of Confederate and Union soldier blood proteins that had soaked through the wool carpet and then seeped down into the dull wood planks. Many red blood tinted stains are still visible today. The heaviest set of deep human blood stains are located the plantation child's private bedroom setting, which usually had been used as a medical operation room for each dying soldier. We gather here and relive this American Civil War tragedy as each one of us eye witnesses the re-enactment here at the Battle of Redstone."

"Sick." Cinco frowns at the room and then the floor.

"Mental." Flamingo frowns at the scene inside the room.

A short, young male with brown colored hair and pale tinted skin scoots around the crowded hallway and races in the opposite direction of the triplet brothers, waving both of his arms above his cowboy hat, shouting out loud in panic. "The Red Coats are coming, ya'll! The Red Coats are coming, ya'll! Everyone, go and run for the them dang mountain hills! The Red Coats..."

Flamingo stands in place and sips the beer and then frowns. "That's the wrong American history pic, man." He laughs with some of the other guests. The young male turns the wall corner and continues to run and shout out the wrong words.

Breck shuffles ahead and sips the beer, stopping at a row of clean glass windows that does not wear a set of red tinted blood stains, scanning the outdoor garden and yard. He gasps in alarm and shouts out loud at his two brothers. "Aw, shit! The Union boys are invading the farm house toting a real sword in a cupped hand," he looks down at his frock coat. "And we're wearing a gray jacket as a Confederate soldier." He shakes his cowboy hat. "This ain't good, bro."

A set of four Union soldiers with a single musket rifle appear and block each side of the open hallway that houses the triplets and some of the invited guests. A Union Major in a blue tinted jacket slides between his army of soldier and enters the fake operating room, pulling out a fake musket pistol, shooting the dying fake dummy soldier in the head. The fake musket pistol sounds with a loud pop and a series of red tinted paint balls sprays out from the bloody head on the fake dummy. Some of the invited guests scream in panic. Some of the invited guest moans with annoyance.

The Union Major back steps from the operating room and spins around to see Flamingo and Cinco, moving ahead towards them and wears a smile, waving his arm with the gun in the air. "Round up my hostages, the live ones, that is. Trot all the Confederate belles and beaus into the ball room for a proper hanging like a southern gentleman. Raise up your hands, boys!" He points the fake musket barrel at Cinco. Both Cinco and Flamingo stand in place in silence and lift both of their palms with the beer bottle near a sour frown.

The Union Major reaches out and grabs the beer bottle from Cinco, wiping off the lip on his used bottle, sipping the cold beer and then burps out loud with laughter.

Each invited guest shuffles around and moves into the ball room, where each male has been tied by a set of thick rough ropes at each wrist bone and ankle bone sitting on top of the wooden dance floor against one of the side walls. Each female is asked to dance for fun.

At 01:44 pm, inside the dance hall, the space is a rectangular-shaped room. Each wall contains an individual ceiling to floor mirror that reflects each dancing couple on top of the dance floor. The entrance wall's shorter side wall holds four double doors which are open for the inviting guests.

The other short side wall displays a row of covered tables in red and orange cloth with numerous platters of food and a set of true musicians inside the dark wall corner.

In-between the long side wall, a naked wooden dance floor gleams in polish and stands underneath a set of young and older dance couples.

On one of the long side walls, Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco sit in a row on top of the dance floor leaning against the smooth mirror. Each brother is tied with a set of real rope shreds around a pair naked wrist bones and each boot ankle as they watch each happy Union male prance with a belle back and forth across the dance floor. The elegant song is a classical tune for waltzing throughout the evening.

The Union Major soldier slams his boot toe into the boot heel on Cinco. Cinco looks up with a sneer. The soldier smiles down at Cinco, "You, Confederate boys, watch me rape your little belles with my sugary molasses charm." He leans down and gently slaps his two fingers at the cheekbone on Cinco. The soldier uprights and grins at Cinco then swings around viewing the wallpaper of girls. The young girls are glued to the flora paper waiting for their turn to waltz across the floor.

Cinco stares at the back spine on the unknown Union Major soldier. "Good thing Babbie ain't here to see and hear this shit from that stupid asshole. She's my real southern belle. Once I'm free, I'm locating that asshole and beating the snot of his body between the beautiful magnolia trees on the south side of the pretty rose garden." Flamingo and Breck chuckle out loud with a nod. Cinco is a man of few English words and lots of physical southern action.

A new Confederate soldier strolls up and stops, standing in front of the triplet brothers, squatting down and views the face on each triplet. His pair of eyeballs display two individual blackened eye sockets and a bandage over his broken nose stops on Flamingo, "Hmm! You look very familiar to sore eyes, sonny."

"Naw," Flamingo winks with a grin.

He views Breck and then looks back at Flamingo, saying with a smile. "Hmm! Your face looks familiar too, but his face is more familiar to my eyesight, my young un-friend. You're the asshole that busted my gawd damn nose on top of the front porch." Flamingo continues to smile in silence.

The soldier sits back and then reaches down, slapping the leg on Flamingo, laughing with an evil tone. "And you're all tied up a plucked chicken, my young un-friend. Let me see if you might like a bloody nostril..." he screams out loud and holds his bleeding nose and a deeply cut cheekbone with great worry, "Urrggh!"

Cinco had wiggled sideways to face the unknown male and then slammed both of his boot heels into the cheekbone on the unknown Confederate soldier, sending the male across the room into a pair of dancers on top of the dance floor.

The pair of dancers swiftly shuffle away from injured male while sneering at the annoying guy. The unknown Confederate soldier drops down and sits cross-legged on top of the dance floor and holds his bleeding broken nose with both of his hands, whining with pain and as each red blood protein drips down and decorates his gray jacket. "He broke my nose again!"

Each dance couple steers away from the injured male and dances on the opposite side. The unknown Confederate soldier slowly stands upright from the dance floor and then exits the dance floor leaving a trail of blood and tears like his ancestors of the Old South.

On the opposite long wall, in front of the mirror, Flamingo and Breck laugh out loud.

Beside Flamingo, Cinco sneers at the back spine on the unknown and injured Confederate soldier and wiggles side to side on top of the floor stretching out his rope binders, "Fucking redneck! If I wasn't hog-tied, then I break more than his gawd damn nose."

The Union Major stops in front of the wall of giggling belles then bows his fitted waistline at the cute girl. She elegantly curtsies and hides her naked ankles underneath the long plantation dress, holding a red tinted hand fan in front of her ugly face. They both stand upright and move ahead onto the dance floor, dancing to the new upbeat historical musical song.

Beside the dance floor, a new southern belle wears an off-the shoulder, pink-tinted plantation dress and slowly advances down the side wall. A line of fake dummies and live fake Confederate soldiers lean against the mirrored wall watching each young and old dance couple promenade around the wooden dance floor. The shy southern belle holds a pink tinted fan in front of her face, passes Cinco, Flamingo, and then stops in front of Breck. She winks at Breck underneath her hand fan, whipping out a sharp kitchen curving knife in the air near her eyeballs.

Breck slams his back spine against the mirrored wall and gasps in alarm.

She squats and leans down his face, saying with a smile. "Don't sweat it, slick! I'm a good belle!" She draws the knife underneath the ropes and cuts the shreds, freeing the wrist bones on Breck. "But I can be really bad, if you wanna me, too, cowboy."

Flamingo wiggles sideways and laughs with a smirk. "Come and take me, sugar pie. I like a bad belle."

"Lacey!" Breck gasps in shock and wiggles side to side over the hard tile floor, wearing a stunned face.

Flamingo continues to wiggle side to side and nods to her, "Yay! Lacey is here. Come and untie me next, girl!"

"Hey! It's Lacey. Lacey is here. How are you here at the ball tonight, Lacey?" Cinco nods.

Lacey hands the kitchen knife to Breck, who slices off the thin ropes away from his ankle bones, freeing both of his legs.

Lacey slowly stands upright from the floor and drops down the fan with a smile, extending her gloved hand to Breck. "Let's go and dance, cowboy."

On top of the floor, Breck turns and cuts the rope off the wrist bones on Flamingo, handing his brother the knife. Breck stands from the floor and cuddles Lacey moving onto the dance floor.

On top of the floor, Flamingo turns and cuts the ropes off from the wrist bones and the ankle bones on Cinco.

Cinco rises from floor and turns, shuffling ahead towards the musicians in the far wall corner, grabbing an unused fiddle and an empty chair and then sits down, playing the familiar music.

On the dance floor, Breck cuddles her and whispers into her smile, "How is it that you are here at this party, darling? This is a special invite to attend."

"My daddy invited me." Lacey smiles.

"No. I mean that only certain people get to come to this boring stuff. You're not boring. Why are you here tonight, Lacey?"

"Well, I pose the same query to you, Breck. Why are you here at this dance party without me?" She turns and frowns at the side wall with the row of giggling southern belles who wait for a dance partner, viewing Breck again. "Have you been dancing with another girl beside me, Breck?"

He smiles, "Naw, honey! My mama, well, my Grandmother Balegreen made me come to this boring social event. That's all. I always obey my grandmother."

She frowns. "You obey authority, too much, Breck. You need to learn to act and think independently, without all these canned rules. You'd have more fun. Well, we'd have more fun..."

"I have fun with you, darling."

"We could have a better time of fun. We could go into the city of Birmingham and party at some of the hot night clubs."

"We are both only seventeen years old, Lacey."

"Age is only a mental thought," she turns and stares at Cinco. "Why is your brother Cinco playing an instrument with the skilled musicians? Why is he not dancing with one of the ugly wallflower southern belles lining the flora sheet plaster like nasty Flamingo?" Lacey frowns at Breck.

He turns and smiles at his brother Cinco. "Cinco, he is truly devoted to his girl Babbie. She couldn't come to the boring event as her parents aren't on the special invitation list," Breck returns back and smiles at her face. "Like I said before, we, three grandsons obey our Grandmother Balegreen. So, we come here as her three grandsons. Cinco doesn't look at another girl, much less touch one as he can't be with his girl Babbie."

"O! That's so sweet. Are Cinco and Babbie going to get married?"

"Yup! They're getting married right after they graduate college. That's one of..."

"... your mama's many annoying barn yard rules." She frowns. "I remember very well."

He smiles. "Who is your senior advisor for the senior class research paper?"

She buzzes her lips. "I got some loser dork who's named Adair Bibb. Dr. Bibb, I must say his formal name over and over and..."

"I know Dr. Bibb too. I call him, A.J. A.J. works with my Grandfather Balegreen at Redstone Point on their secret military science project."

She frowns. "I don't like Bibb. He's so picky about my senior paper. I'm required to write five pages on my selected senior research question."

"What's your question?" His eyeball catches the movement and as Breck gasps in shock.

Cinco stands upright from the chair and reaches down, gently placing the fiddle instrument back down on the seat. He charges ahead and exits the ball room, closing the patio door that leads into the rose garden.

"What is go...?"

He looks down and smiles at Lacey. "What is gold? Is that your senior research question?"

"No. What is geo-caching?" She frowns.

He smiles. "Geo-caching is a treasure hunt using a computer, not walking around in a pair of your hiking shoes. You use the navigational technology from your mobile telephone to hunt down the correct geographical computer coordinates for the proper cache site. When the geographical coordinates are found, you select the invisible treasure at that new geographical sight and replace it with one of your own while keeping the cycle flowing. According the official website of geo-caching, there are close to 9,000 geo-caches hunting for a set or two of invisible treasure here in Bama. A five-page typed research paper should be a breeze for an AP girl, you know, all pretty girl like you, Lacey."

She frowns. "Bibb wants me to research and then write about the concept of geo-caching, but I must find some type of treasure. I was thinking about a treasure of gold nuggets. I heard that there is some old stupid legend around these mountain parts about a box of real gold and a tribe of Native American Indians. Do you know the tale, Breck?"

His wondering eyeballs see the motion from the patio setting.

Cinco has returned to the dance hall, leaving the patio door open, heading towards the beverage bar. He stops in front of the bucket of ice cubes and wraps his bruised fighting hand around a wet cloth of cold ice cubes. Cinco had preached his duty and then popped that fake Union Major soldier in the mouth.

Flamingo dances with the young female spying on Cinco and gasps in shock, quickly dumping the girl on the dance floor and races with a smile ahead towards Cinco. He stops and bumps head with his brother, hearing the tale from Cinco.

The two brothers slowly back step from the busy beverage bar and huddle inside one of the dark wall corners while laughing and sharing the tale with each other.

On the dance floor, Lacey stares with a sour frown into the smile on Breck. "Do you know the tale of the gold and the Native American Indian tribe, Breck?"

Breck stares and smiles at his two brothers, looking down with a grin to see Lacey. "Yeah, I have heard that tale. There is a box of golden bars hidden somewhere within the foot hills on the Brindlee Mountain."

"You told me that you found a gold mine within the land region which is called Mohawk Patch."

"Naw! We found an old horse grave which is filled with..."

"...gold nuggets."

"The horse grave might lead down into a new oil pit or a coal mine. Maybe, there might be fool's gold, but not real gold," he laughs.

She exhales. "But is there is some boxes of real Native American Indian gold bars here somewhere like that stupid silly legend tells?"

He smiles, "Naw. I know a lot of the Native American Indians had to leave during the Trail of Tears event, but that's the extend of my Native American Indian history lesson here in Lacy Springs."

"My history is not much more than that. I don't know why I got this jerk Bibb as my senior advisor. I spend all my time inside the Lacy Springs Library looking for old articles about boxes of hidden golden bars."

"You're an AP student which entitles you to do the best you can for a good grade and then graduate Lacy Springs High. You and I plan on attending Burn U together, don't we?"

She frowns. "My best accomplishment is to receive the letter grade of C and then run for the hills finding..."

He gasps. "Aren't you going to attend Burn U College with me, Lacey?"

She giggles. "I'm going to get married."

"Married! Who are you going to marry after our high school graduation, Lacey?" He frowns.

She winks with a giggle. "I'm going to marry a cute and funny cowboy. Do you know any cute and funny cowboys, Breck?"

He frowns. "A cowboy is not cute and funny. What are you mumbling about, Lacey? Who are you going to marry, after high school graduation, Lacey? Do I know this guy?"

"Well, I should hope so."

He hisses, "I should hope so. Who is this guy?"

She winks. "He's so sweet and kind."

"Does he go to our high school?"

She giggles, "Yes, he attends our school."

He sneers. "Who is he? I wanna know."

She laughs. "You do know him, silly."

He frowns. "I do. What's his name?"

She winks. "Breck."

He growls. "What!"

She giggles. "His name is Breck, my cute and silly cowboy."

He gasps. "What?"

"I am going to marry you, Breck, my cute and silly cowboy."

"What!" He frowns.

She nods with a smile, "When are we going to get married, Breck?"

He gasps then nods with a smile. "Well, after I graduate from Bam U Law School, that will be four years from now. I, first, must obtain my college degree and then add three more years for law school."

She gasps in alarm. "That...that's a total of seven years as a college student. You'll be an old man."

He smiles, "Naw, babe! I'll be twenty-four years old. I'm still a young man with lots of energy."

She exhales. "Why do you wanna work, Breck? You're rich like king."

He stops the dance and stares at Lacey, gasping in shock. "You keep saying that statement, Lacey. I do not understand your reason or your purpose." A swift fast and flashy motion in front of the entrance wall grabs the eyeballs on Breck again. He looks up and sees his mother Arie.

In-between the four double doors, Arie cuddles with Darrel. Beside Darrel, Robert Earl stands with a smile and holds a cup of red colored juice, studying the dance floor.

On top of the dance floor, Breck releases Lacey and spins around with a sneer, stomping ahead towards Darrel for an exchange of nasty words and then an exchange of bloody fists. On the entrance wall, the ancient one hundred-year-old dark brown grandfather clock in the wall corner loudly chimes its musical dong throughout the plantation house. Then the ceiling overhead lamps lose power, creating darkness.

Breck halts on top of the floor with a gasp and stands in the darkness with the rest of the guests. Then the overhead lamps illuminate, creating arrays of bright light.

In front of the entrance wall, Robert Earl stands in front of Arie and Darrel holding an empty champagne glass, gently slamming the fork into the delicate crystal glass. The soft sound fills the noisy room. Each face turns and stares at Robert Earl. He shouts out loud with his natural voice to each face. "Good evening to all the beautiful belles and lucky beaus here at annual Battle of Redstone at Fort Redstone. Please come and stand in beside me, Arie and Darrel."

Arie and Darrel continue to cuddle, move ahead from the wall and then stop, standing beside Robert Earl. Arie wears a smile. Darrel softy chuckles with a grin.

Robert Earl smiles to each face. "I am very much honored to be a part of this special announcement tonight. Please, come closer and form a completed semi-circle around the outer edges on the dance floor." Each person moves ahead and cuddles next to each other.

Robert Earl continues to motion with his free hand and then slaps the hand down to his trousers, wearing a smile. "This looks very good for my special announcement." He clears his throat and then smiles to each face. "I would like to present Captain Darrel Kant. Captain Kant, would you be so kind to join me on the opposite side." Darrel separates from Arie and then shuffles around, standing on the opposite side with Robert Earl.

On top of the dance floor, Flamingo shuffles ahead and parks beside the nose profile on Breck, presenting a worried brow.

Cinco rushes ahead through the dances and occupies the opposite earlobe on Breck, leaning over with a worried brow and whispers into the cheekbone on Breck. "What in the hell is going on here, Breck?" Iredell floats through the crowd and stops, standing beside Cinco, watching with intrigue.

"Dunno!" Breck exhales with worry and stares at his mother Arie.

Flamingo leans over and whispers into the cheekbone on Breck "To me, it looks like a..."

"Shut up, Flamingo! We'll find out together." Breck continues to stand in place and wears a worried brow of confusion and puzzlement, staring at Arie.

Flamingo exhales with worry. "Stop him, Breck!"

"Shoot him, Breck!" Cinco frowns.

Breck whispers out loud to his two brothers. "Shut up, both ya'll, rednecks. Let's listen and see what is going to happen here. Then, we grab and take mama back home. We might not be able to attack Diarrhea tonight, but we can get him later tomorrow morning." Cinco stands in place and snorts with a nod. Flamingo prays for a miracle coming from heaven or a flaming sword from hell.

In front of the entrance wall, Robert Earl reaches over with a smile and hugs Arie, turning to see Darrel. "Beaus and belles, this is my daughter Arie. And this young man has something very important to say to her," he nods to Darrel. "Go ahead, lad."

In front of the entrance wall of open doors, Darrel wobbles side to side and wears a silly smile, whipping out a small black tinted box from his jacket pocket. He opens the box and retrieves an object, lifting the object in the air near his smile. A three-caret diamond ring gleams underneath the row of overhead lamps. He stares into the crowd of dancers. "I, Captain Darrel Kant, am a humble and gentle man living in the fair town of Lacy Springs. I, Captain Darrel Kant, lovingly propose to Miss Arie with the announcement of true love. I, Captain Darrel Kant, propose a marriage of two in front of these fine folks, this evening." The captured audience of attendees performs a set of softly claps and performs a silly smile.

In the middle of the crowd, Flamingo gasps in alarm and stomps ahead, yelling out loud through the thick crowd, "Hell, never!"

Breck swiftly leans over and flings his strong arm around the back spine on Flamingo, holding his brother in place, whispering into the eardrum on Flamingo also. "Hell, naw! Stay put, Flamingo! We will deal with this terrible incident at our ranch farm and out of eyesight and away from any and all eye witnesses. Stay cool, bro!" He continues to cuddle Flamingo into his chest without making an ugly social scene inside the dance hall with Darrel or his mother Arie.

Cinco stands in place and leans over, winking at Flamingo. "Breck is right, Flamingo. We, three will take Diarrhea and one terrain vehicle for a tour of the cow pasture on the extreme western side on our ranch for some fun sport shooting. No one will ever find the body."

"And no one will ever ask a question from us." Breck laughs with his two brothers while staring at Darrel.
Saturday September 20th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

09:02 am

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Entrance Hall setting

Inside the entrance hall, Iredell Balegreen stands in front of the yellow painted wall on the western side of the room and holds a sewing measuring tape against the paint. She expands both of her arms with the tool measuring on the wall and then drops down both arms, writing down a set of math numbers on a pad of paper. She says with a smile. "Arie dear, I think the western wall here inside this massive entrance hall will be the best spot for the six food tables which includes the table for your wedding cake at your wedding next Saturday morning. The sun rise will be more asleep at ten in the morning making this area cool for holding the frozen yogurt pops." She looks back over a collar bone to see Arie. "The wedding ceremony is still set for ten, is that not correct, dear?"

"I guess." Arie stands in front of the staircase and stares down with a stern face at the polished bottom step.

Flamingo, Cinco, and Breck stand in a triangle formation around their mother Arie while protecting her from every form of declared evil including their blood kinfolks and their unkind enemies.

Flamingo leans over with a worried brow and whispers into her cheekbone. "Mama, say the word, no. Then I'll go and boot each butt-hole out from our house. You don't have to marry Diarrhea, ever."

Reese moves ahead and then stops, standing in front of the row of glass windows on the opposite side wall, pointing down at the floor, saying with a smile. "Here! This is a good spot for the white painted wire arch structure that will hold a set of pink roses. Arie sweetheart, I have found the most perfect spot for the wedding arch right between the third and fourth windows. I like the idea of a morning wedding, Arie. Your wedding day is going to be so pretty. But I was concerned about the sunlight invading the bald flooring. This is going to be so beautiful, honey. I have placed the order for pink roses already. Is that okay, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the bottom step on the grand staircase.

Breck leans over and whispers into her eardrum. "Mama, say, no! We kick all our kin out the front door on our house and back into their cars. You don't have to marry, Diarrhea."

Aurora stands in front of the belle parlor room and holds the older pink formal gown in the air, shaking her curls and her overweight body, staring at Arie. "This pink formal gown is too simple. I'm going to seamstress today with a new pattern for your new wedding dress. You should wear a long ankle-length gown of pink tulle hiding your aged body. You know, we both are a set of middle-age adults now. The color of pink will look good against your old tanned and weather-beaten skin. I plan to wrap my girls in the delicate fabric of white tulle skirt which will match your pink fluff of tulle. They'll be adorable in their little antebellum dresses as your wedding flower girls." She looks up and frowns at the grand staircase. "However, I do not want my two young children bouncing down that set of steep stairs. My two girls should come from the belle parlor room holding a basket of pink rose petals, spreading over the ugly tile floor. Do you agree with me, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the bottom step on the grand staircase.

Cinco leans over and whispers into her nose bridge, saying with worry. "Mama, say, now. Then I'll go and kick her ass out from our house forever more. You do not have to listen to that shit anymore."

On the western wall, Iredell finishes the measurements for each food table and back steps from the wall, spinning around with a smile, moving ahead towards the staircase. She stops and stares at the two little girls.

Each young girl crawls up each step on both hands and kneecaps like a pair of bugs, reaching the top with a smile, standing upright on the balcony floor. They slowly race around to the banister with giggles and then lean over the balcony railing posts, pitching each cloth dolly down on the ground floor, watching the doll splat on top of the hard marble floor. Each child giggles with amusement and leaves the banister, slowly climbing back down the steep staircase, landing down on the floor. Each one collects their dead cloth doll and repeats the play fun event again.

Iredell stands a few feet from the triangular formation with her three grandsons, pointing up the second story balcony, saying with a smile. "I believe the new bride should make a grand entrance down the staircase into the entrance hall in her new wedding gown. But I recommend a set of low-heeled shoes," she looks down with a smile and sees the bare feet on Arie. "Or maybe you can go with your nicely manicured bare feet, dear. That's the newest trend now wearing no shoes. Will Jarvis escort you down the staircase this time, Arie? If so, he might wanna go with a set of bare feet, too. Well, we all can go without shoes. How does that sound, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stand down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase while seeing the children climb up and down the steps.

Aurora moves ahead and jabs her finger at each child, shouting out loud in fury. "Girls, get down this instance from those dangerous steps!"

The two little girls do not obey their mother and continue to sail up each step, turning to the face the banister, pitching each doll from the second level onto the ground floor with a set of giggles and grins. Then they climb back down and retrieve the dead doll, repeating the play fun event again.

Aurora stops and stands a few feet from the back spine on Arie, pointing at the grand staircase, saying with a worried brow. "I do not want my two girls walking down these steep steps on the grand staircase. I would suggest my two girls come from behind the staircase and then they can meet in front of the staircase. They can walk side by side dropping down their basket of pink rose petals over the rough marble before you enter the room. Isn't pink the color theme of your wedding, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

Breck reaches over with worry and gently pats the naked arm on his mother.

Flamingo reaches over with his worried feelings also and gently pats her other naked arm.

Cinco roll his eyeballs and then looks at Aurora, sounding with a soft sneer. He desires to beat each butt-hole back to their homestead.

Iredell continues to stand a few feet from Arie and her three grandsons, staring at the staircase. "I would select a second theme wedding color of mint green which would greatly complement the candy pink for each food tablecloth, Arie. We don't want the entire entrance hall smothered in candy pink hue like a young teen wedding. Is that not correct, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

Aurora frowns at her two girls, who continue to play on the dangerous staircase. "Six days is not a lot of time to find or purchase a designer dress, Arie. I suggest you call up Mae's Gowns on Evelyn Street. Mae has the prettiest selections of wedding and formal gown patterns. What do you think, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

Flamingo exhales with worry and stares at his mother. "Mama looks pale like she's going to faint away from the heat inside the entrance hall. Go and get her a glass of cold water, right now, Cinco."

"Mama!" Cinco stares at his mother with worry, "Right! Right!" He rushes away from the entrance hall and races down the hallway making loud footballs towards the kitchen setting. Breck continues to worry and pats her naked arm.

Reese spins around with a grin from the row of glass windows and joins the line of individuals in front of the staircase, staring at the two active little girls. "We can easily fit ten rows of folding chairs on each side of the white tinted paper runner. That will be one hundred invited guests for the private wedding ceremony. However, we might need to invite the church members to a private reception dinner and dance. Do you agree with me, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

Cinco quickly returns from the kitchen, rushing down the hallway, holding a wet glass of water and stops, extending the glass tumbler to his mother Arie. She accepts the wet tumbler and holds the glass without sipping the cold water, staring down at the bottom step on the grand staircase.

Iredell smiles at each active little girl. "Darrel has told Robert Earl that he doesn't have any kin folks living around these local parts. So, you can invite all your family and friends to fill the one hundred seats here inside the entrance hall. Is that okay, dear?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

Iredell nods. "I have ordered a wedding cake with vanilla colored frosting and a pod of scattered tiny pink rosebuds for the bridal cake and a three-layer dark chocolate cake which is covered in tons of fresh red strawberries for the groom's cake. How does that sound, Arie?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

"Can we get a set of fresh strawberries this time of season, Iredell?" Reese turns and smiles at Iredell.

Iredell turns and smiles at Reese then back to Aire. "No problem! I can import boxes of strawberries directly from my source within the US State of Florida with just a telephone call. I will get the hired Cater Company to do it for me. You don't worry about a thing, Arie. Robert Earl and I will plan out the lunch menu also and make damn shore we fill the beverage bar with the good stuff. How's that sound, dear?"

"I guess." Arie continues to stare down at the polished bottom step on the grand staircase.

The front door parts open and reveals the bright sunlight of a new heated day into the cold air-conditioned room.

Darrel stands inside the archway with a smile and then struts ahead inside the entrance hall, looking down at the floor, wearing a sour frown and then stops. He points down at the floor. "What's this?"

Iredell slowly spins around to view Darrel, wearing a smile. "Good morning to you, too, Darrel! This is the wedding site for you and Arie. She is our darling bride for the week that is finally getting re-married. We are a tight, close family, Darrel. You will find that out, soonest."

The three sons shuffle around and face Darrel, surrounding their mother Arie while softly sneering. Arie slowly spins around to face Darrel and wearing a stern face in silence.

On top of the floor, Darrel continues to move ahead and stares down at the floor, stopping with a gasp. The tip on his expensive leather shoe digs down into each damaged hole. He sneers down at the floor. "Why is there a set of numerous deeply chipped out marks here and there and there in the fine marble?"

Aurora smiles and waves at her two children. Each girl moves ahead over the floor and stands with their mother. Aurora and the girls spin around and smile at the hair roots on Darrel. "This is your new uncle, girls."

"Hey!" Asa smiles at Darrel.

"Hello!" Alina grins at Darrel.

Flamingo smiles down at the hair roots on Darrel. "O that mark on the marble floor! Cinco rode his stallion inside the house from a rain shower, instead of galloping the horse into the barn for protection from the wet rain. Do you remember that, Breck?"

Cinco sneers at Darrel. "Yeah, these would be called the good old days, without Darrel. Do you remember that, too, Breck?"

"Right, bro! The good old days, without Darrel, I remember that very clearly." Breck sneers at Darrel also.

Darrel continues to stare down at each hole and says with a sour frown. "My gawd! Your sons have almost ruined the fine marble, Arie. The repair of the floor will cost thousands upon thousands of dollars to fix the damage left by a set of horse hoof prints," he looks up with a puzzled brow to see each male teen. The three brothers laugh out loud. Darrel turns and frowns at the entrance hall. "Why is this large room so lifeless and empty?"

Cinco smiles. "I like the entrance hall empty. Then we can race our set of motorcycles up the stairs next spring. Ain't that right, Breck?"

Breck laughs with a nod. "Right, bro! That'll be fun and more dangerous and damaging..."

Darrel sneers at each teen "Well, I have arrived in the nick of time to save the big day." he slaps his chest with a smile. "I am taking over our wedding plans. After all, this is my future wife and my future wedding. We are planning our wedding together. Is that not correct, sweet pea?"

Flamingo shakes his curls and mouths in silent: Sweet pea.

Darrel tosses both of his arms in the air then drops his arms slapping his expensive trousers, nodding with a smile to his new kinfolks. "I appreciate all the family help. But try to understand here, I want my wedding to be perfect like my new bride, sweet pea."

"Mama!" Breck leans over and whispers into the cheekbone on Arie. He greatly desires for her to shout out loud the word, no.

Darrel nods with a smile. "I like the ranch house, Arie. This place is a fine piece of real estate property. However, we are getting married. And I want to get married inside a church in front of Almighty God like _The Holy Bible_ says. Do you agree with me, sweet pea?"

"Mama!" Flamingo leans over and whispers into the other cheekbone on Arie. He greatly wants her to shout out loud the word, no, also.

Cinco frowns. "Mama, do you wanna a church wedding, too?"

Darrel nods with a smile. "Excellent! Arie and I, we agree here having a church wedding, next Saturday morning. I like the morning time. So, we will marry at ten o'clock sharp. The wedding will be short and sweet and performed by a preacher, without a set of musical choir singers. Do you agree with me, sweet pea? This is reason that we go together so well, because we have the same common interests. Do you agree with me, sweet pea?"

"Mama!" Breck continues to whisper into her cheekbone without hearing her shouted word, no.

Darrel holds out his hand with a grin to Arie. "Come over here with me, sweet pea!" Arie shivers from her bridal nervousness and slowly moves ahead from the protection of her three sons, strolling towards Darrel. He reaches out and grabs her arm, quickly spinning Arie around, cuddling her into his chest. He sniffs her body and then smiles at her cheekbone. "And I don't want my wife smelling like horse shit on our wedding day. I will not have any wife of mine walking down the church aisle in a pair of faded blue jeans and a set of dirty cowboy boots..."

"Cowgirl boots, man! A female wears a pair of pretty cowgirl boots. A male possesses a pair of cowboy boots." Flamingo frowns.

Darrel turns and smiles at her three sons. "I have plans today. We are going into town and talk to the preacher about the renting the church for the entire day from morning to evening for both the wedding ceremony and the wedding reception. So, every person will be on standby for your garment appointment at the local bridal store and the tuxedo rental shop. All wedding party of females will wear the color of peach. I like the color peach which is a nice springtime tint for our wedding. The color will complement the gray tinted morning jacket that each wedding party male will dress. Do you possess your credit card, sweet pea?"

"Yes." Arie reaches down with a smile and pats the rear pocket on her pair of faded and ripped blue jeans.

"Bye, lads!" Darrel spins around with a smile and cuddles Arie, exiting through the open front door, moving ahead towards his new foreign two-seater sports car.

Each one of her sons swiftly dash ahead with a worried brow and then stop, standing inside the open archway, staring at their mother Arie. Then the little sports car leaves out from the Balegreen Cow Ranch house without them.

07:01 pm

Dull moonlight without stars and hot temperatures

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Entrance hallway setting

Cinco sits on top of the staircase and taps each boot on top of the marble, saying with a worried brow. "Mama is not home, yet, Grandmother," he says into his mobile telephone.

The Dunlap and Balegreen clan members are both worried with the unknown whereabouts of Arie and Darrel. The couple left this morning at ten and has not being seen since.

A set of low-beam headlights brightly shine through the dark of night and enter each glass window inside the entrance hallway.

"Mama!" Breck smiles and races ahead from the staircase to the row of low-lying windows inside the entrance hall, staring at the shining headlights and stops, fogging up the glass.

Cinco slowly stands upright from the staircase step with a smile, saying on the telephone speaker. "Mama has arrived back home safely. I'll call you when the dead body needs to be buried, Grandmother." He listens to her wicked response. "Yes, we decided to bury a dead and blue-tinted Diarrhea inside the western pasture land. No one lives out that far and it is far away from the roadway," he listens to her evil response and then laughs. "Naw. We don't need your shotgun, Grandmother. Our house is well equipped with both semi-automatic and automatic weapons for the single death job. I love you, too, Grandmother!" He slowly moves ahead with laughter and stores his mobile telephone down inside his blue jeans, stopping at the row of glass windows. He spies on his mother and Darrel.

Flamingo dashes behind Breck and then slams into the glass window pane between Cinco and Breck while searching the darkness for his mother. "Damn! It's about fucking ass time. I'm ready to call..."

"...the Bama National Guard men and women do not response to a lost parent, Flamingo." Breck smiles through the glass and studies the parked car on top of the driveway.

Flamingo laughs at the sports car. "Well, Tommy Lee will respond to a lost parent, since he doesn't like Diarrhea either."

Cinco stands beside Flamingo and spies on his mother, "Who in the hell likes Diarrhea? But..."

"Granddaddy Balegreen, he seems to be the only crazy one among the town people." Breck watches.

Arie exits out from the front passenger door without the gentleman aid from Darrel. She and Darrel pull out and grab numerous shopping bags, moving ahead towards the front door.

"Why is our mama carrying numerous shopping bags? Why isn't Darrel toting all the shopping bags for our mother? What is inside each shopping bag?" Flamingo sneers at the bad manners on Darrel.

Cinco smiles, "Each shopping bag is a new present for us. Christmas time comes early this year."

"I don't think so, Cinco." Breck back steps from the glass window and turns to face the front door, racing ahead towards the entrance door. He stops and stands, reaching out, pulling open the door knobs. The wooden door parts.

Darrel slams into Breck first and softly chuckles with a smile while holding numerous colorful boxes and geometric shaped shopping bags in both of his hands. Breck sneers and quickly sidesteps away from Darrel. Darrel moves ahead a few feet inside the entrance floor and then stops, dumping down each item onto the marble floor, presenting a grin.

Arie follows behind Darrel carrying numerous colored boxes and shopping bags also and as her face is hidden behind the stack of items.

Cinco, Flamingo, and Breck dash around Arie and reach out, grabbing each item exposing her body and her motherly smile. Aries moves inside and stops a few feet from the open door.

Flamingo squats down on the floor and gently places each item on top of the floor, slowly standing upright from the floor and then spins around, reaching out and shuts up the house for the night.

Arie poses in a new business suit of electric blue hue. The skirt is short above her kneecaps, showing off her pair of suntanned shapely legs and a pair of platform electric blue sandals that clashes with her newly manicured puke green colored toe nails that wiggle in the cool air. Her suit jacket is cut into a square-shape with a set of long sleeves and a scooped neckline. Her naked throat wears a diamond neckline. Her two earlobes are dragged down with a pair of dangling diamond earring. Her hair bounces up and down in a curvy ponytail behind her rear bone skull.

Cinco gently drops down each item on the floor and then slowly stands upright from the floor, staring with a puzzled brow at Arie. "Where is your pair of faded blue jeans, Mama?"

She smiles and points down to one of the numerous shopping bags on the floor. "My blue jeans are located inside one of the many shopping bags, maybe here. I promise. I didn't..."

"...love these clothes. The design is the latest fashion trend style from the US State of California." Darrel nods wit a smile and stares at the outfit on Arie.

Her three sons move ahead and surround their mother Arie, reaching out, touching her arm with love and stare at her new female appearance.

Flamingo smiles at her cheekbone. "Our mama is made here in the US State of Alabama, not the US State of California."

Cinco smiles at her body parts. "Your nails are only a fourth-painted in the color of white, Mama."

Arie wiggles her hands near her smile. "My nail design is called a French manicure, Cinco."

"O wow! It is pretty like you, Mama." Cinco fakes a smile at weird-ass polished finger nails.

"Your toes are painted in the color pale green, Mama. Did you know that? It doesn't match the white." Breck frowns down at her naked toes.

"This is one of the newest color nail sets for all females, Breck." Arie lifts and wiggles her foot in the air, slowly dropping her feet back down to the floor without falling over the tile.

"O wow! You are pretty, Mama." Breck continues to fake his smile and surveys her new clothes and her new appearance.

Flamingo exhales with worry. "Can you walk in that pair of high platform shoes, Mama?"

"Yes, dear." Arie nods but does not move ahead towards the narrow hallway.

Darrel moves ahead and then spins around, standing beside Arie. "Arie looks tall like a New York fashion model in those pair of fashion high-heeled platform shoes from New York City."

Flamingo sneers at Darrel, "Our mama comes from the US State of Alabama, not the US State of New York, Dia..."

"Flamingo!" Arie fakes her smile at Darrel.

"Darrel." Flamingo smiles at Darrel.

"Where are your favorite pair of cowgirl boots, Mama?" Cinco stares down at her new platform sandals.

She grins and points down at the pile of lumpy shopping bags on the floor. "In that shopping bag, I think. I can't leave home without my cowgirl..."

"What has happened to your hair, Mama?" Breck stares at her ponytail.

Darrel chuckles. "Let me tell you! The hired hair stylist had a time with that mop of silver complaining about the waves of frizzy curls. She ironed it out then pulled it back into an elegant ponytail. Then, she cut and flattened out the extra strands for a set of cute forehead bangs. She appears sophisticated like a city girl?"

"Mama is a country princess, Darrel." Flamingo sneers at the male.

"You got a great, big long puffy ponytail with a forehead of hair bangs, Mama." Cinco stares at her new hair style.

Flamingo turns and studies her face, "Does your cheekbones hurt? Your hair roots are stretched around each of your earlobes, Mama."

"No, Flamingo," Arie smiles.

"Her earlobes are wearing a set of dangling diamond earrings. Arie is a new woman now." Darrel smiles at his newly created bride.

"I like your forehead bangs, Mama. But you can wear your hair down like before, since you are back home with your three teenage sons." Cinco smiles at her cheekbone.

She turns and smiles at Cinco. "Yes..."

"No. You will not wear your hair down, Arie." Darrel frowns.

Breck reaches out and touches her ponytail. "Your hair feels stiff like glue, Mama."

"That is called hairspray, sweetheart. Hair spray product is harmless to me, honey. I promise," she smiles at Breck.

"O wow! You look pretty, to me, Mama." Breck fakes his smile and stares at her hair style.

Cinco leans over and frowns into her eardrum. "Mama, are you really in there somewhere?"

She turns and giggles at Cinco. "Cinco, you're such a lovely tease. Yes, I'm still your mama. And yeah, I can still butt-slap your bee-hind when..."

"Arie!" Darrel clears his throat. Flamingo spins around and sneers at Darrel, taking a step forward to correct his ill-bred southern manners.

Breck reacts and races around Arie, reaching out, jerking Flamingo into his chest. Breck wants the honor of beating Darrel into a puddle of goo.

Darrel exhales with annoyance. "Arie, come over here right now to me!"

Cinco reaches out and gently touches her face with worry. "Mama, you look so different but really pretty. But I like my old mama too. Does all this pretty stuff wash off from your face?"

She turns and winks at Cinco. "I love you, Cinco."

"Arie!" Darrel stands in place with a sour frown and crosses his arms, shouting out loud. "Come over here right now!" Cinco drops his hand and grabs her arm, escorting his mother without Darrel.

Darrel gasps in shock and then spins around with a sour frown, moving ahead down the narrow and semi-dark hallway. "Well, lady and gentlemen, our dinner meal is being served by the house staff right now. Why is this hallway so dull and dark? We must change the wallpaper here after we are married, sweet pea."

"The paid house staff left our house hours ago for their own homes and their own supper meal." Flamingo moves ahead first with a sour frown and follows the back spine on Darrel. Breck dashes ahead and then marches beside Flamingo while staring at the back spine on Darrel in silence.

Darrel leads the line down the semi-dark hallway. "The paid house staff returned back here a few minutes ago to prepare our dinner meal. We shall begin a new rule during the dinner hour..."

"The hour has a name and the name is called suppertime, bro." Breck exhales with annoyance.

Flamingo turns into the open archway next and stops, standing in front of the empty chair beside Darrel.

Inside the dining room setting, Darrel moves ahead with a smile and occupies the head or king's seat on the front end of the table.

Arie turns and moves ahead, stopping and stands beside Flamingo.

Breck scoots around the back spine on Darrel and sits on the opposite side of Arie and Flamingo while readying to attack Darrel with revenge.

Cinco stops and stands beside Flamingo.

The dining room table wears a solid white-tinted tablecloth and displays five individual red tinted stoneware plates with a single pile of dark brown food, that stands center stage on the dish.

Flamingo looks down with a sour frown and stares at the new food item. "What's this crap?"

"Flamingo, please exhibit your southern gentlemen manners at the dining table for tonight." Arie stands in front of her chair.

Flamingo continues to stare down at the unfamiliar food item. "What's this crap, please?"

Darrel smiles down at the new food item. "This is a gourmet cuisine coming from the foreign country of South Korea."

Cinco frowns down at the unfamiliar food item. "Our asses are planted here in the great State of Alabama, within USA, on the North American continent, dude."

"Please say our heavenly prayers, Flamingo." Arie bows her chin down into her diamond necklace.

Cinco, Breck, and Flamingo, each bow a chin and close their eyelids, folding their hands in a triangle like a little kid as they had been taught by their mother.

Flamingo smiles and addresses the new meal, "God is good. God is great. God! O God. Please, help me find my bloody fate." Cinco snorts. Breck chuckles.

Arie looks up with a puzzled brow and stares down at the pile of food. "Thank you for an interesting rhyme to our supper prayers, Flamingo." Flamingo reaches over and jerks the chair out for his mother. Arie sits and stares down at the unfamiliar food item in silence.

Flamingo sits down and stares at the unfamiliar food "You are most welcome, Mama." He lifts the fork and does not attack the pile of brown tinted beans, looking up to see Darrel. "This pile of food betta not be cooked canine dog meat from the country of South Korea, on my plate, because I will get sick and vomit on Darrel's new business suit which had been paid for with my mama's black colored platinum credit card."

Breck turns and smiles at Darrel's new business suit and a pair of diamond cuff links around his wrist bones. "Hmm! Darrel went shopping with our mama too."

"These arm cuffs look like a pair of stud diamonds, man." Flamingo stirs the beans down into the brown sauce.

Arie smiles, "Flamingo, you are always my astute triplet. I can assure you that there is no such animal being serviced tonight or ever within this household."

"I like a dog as a pet and not as a food item on top of my dinner plate, Mama." Breck stares down at the brown beans.

Flamingo scoops up the tiny beans onto his spoon, "A household is a mama, a daddy, and a couple of children. Now, we have a new household." Cinco continues to stare down at the pile of brown beans in silence.

"The pile of brown beans is turtle meat." Darrel scoops up a small amount of the spicy mixture, sucking on the spoon.

"Is this a pile of South Korea sea turtle meat?" Flamingo holds the spoon in the air near his sneer.

He swallows the food and then smiles at Flamingo. "Yes, this is sea turtle meat. Does your platelet recognize the spicy favor, Flamingo?"

Flamingo growls, "Naw, my taste buds do not recognize the favor. But my brilliant IQ recognizes that hunting and capturing a sea turtle is illegal here in the USA and there in the country of South Korea, Darrel."

Darrel turns and sneers at his future wife. "Arie, I will not have a teenage questioning my judgment, especially, when it comes to my selection of dining pleasure." He scoops up and consumes a second spoon of brown tinted turtle guts.

Arie nods. "Darrel, my triplets want to please me tonight, is that not correct, boys?" Each son nods in silence to Arie. She nods back with a smile to each son. "Let us recall that the American Civil War wasn't lost in four days. It took four long years along with some successfully rebel battles and Yankee defeats. So, I propose that we change one tradition at a time starting with our evening meal."

Cinco stares down at the pile of brown beans. "I vote we change nothing."

"I second that vote." Breck stares down at the pile of brown tinted cooked meat.

"I vote that we change Darrel." Flamingo turns and winks at Darrel.

Darrel turns and sneers at Arie. "And I veto all your votes. Arie, this is the nonsense that I reference your boys..."

"Yes, they are my boys, my babies, my triplets that live here in their birth house, until my three sons leave and attend the university next fall. Now, I suggest, correction, I command that all new and proposed changes and modifications be implemented, after my three boys, my three babies, and my triplets have left and are living in their own apartment within metro city of Birmingham. They can make up their own house rules. For the time being, this is my house, my rules and my way. So, we have agreed to keep everything the same." She scoops a small amount of the turtle meat onto her spoon, consuming the food, nodding at the spicy favor.

Flamingo turns and stares at the spoonful of cooked turtle meat. "You don't wanna cook just any type of old turtle. The best tasting is snapper turtle or alligator snapping turtle or another soft-shell turtle. An alligator snapper turtle can grow up towards one hundred twenty pounds in weight making it a very old tortoise at that size along with having a very rare life cycle."

"We got one or two out around our farm." Cinco looks up from the pile of cooked brown meat and smiles at Darrel.

Breck looks up from the cooked meat and nods to Darrel. "Right, Cinco. And we protect that old man with an armed shotgun, since you don't really wanna eat a hard-shelled red-eared turtle anyways."

"A hard-shelled and red-eared turtle is called a Streaker-head turtle." Cinco grins.

Breck nods. "Right, Cinco. You can see a Streaker-head turtle living inside a fresh water pond. But each turtle doesn't possess much chewing meat on their bones."

Cinco nods. "And you don't wanna ever eat any terrestrial turtle or terrapin. That turtle is an endangered species here within the United States. Did you know that illegal face, Mama?" She nods with a smile to Cinco as she is a country woman.

Flamingo continues to hold the spoonful of cooked brown turtle meat in the air and states with a smile, without eating the food item. "Grandpa Dunlap cooks a mean turtle stew of snapper turtle that we usually catch from the farm pond during our deer hunting season trip while camping on our land. Ain't that right, Breck?"

Breck smiles at Flamingo. "That is right, Flamingo."

Flamingo continues to hold the spoon of cooked meat and smiles at Cinco, "Because, a snapper turtle is the easiest turtle to trap and catch. Ain't that right, Cinco?"

Cinco smiles at Breck. "Yeah, our friends Yancy and Doyle, during the summertime months, catch and then sell each snapper turtle to the local grocery store on Evelyn Street for a pile of cash money. They get paid up to two dollars-per-pound including both the soft shell and fresh meat."

Breck smiles, "Flamingo, do you remember when we bunked down with Horace during one of our dove hunts. We camped underneath the pretty bright stars while he volunteered as the camp cook."

Cinco laughs with a nod. "My intestines and my butt-hole track really remember that camping trip, very well."

Arie turns and smiles at her son. "Cinco, use your gentlemen manners, please."

Breck smiles, "Horace was cooking up a great big pot of turtle stew. It is an unwritten law that you do not stir a cook's spoon. But you can taste the cook's broth. Ain't that right, Cinco?"

"Right, Breck!" Cinco chuckles.

Breck smiles at Darrel. "Well, during the camp out, I leaned my face over that steamy, big boiling metal pot seeing a clump of red lumpy turtle legs that stood taller than the American flag. Then I noticed a set of great big green warts..." Darrel gags on the mouthful of turtle meat. Flamingo and Cinco chuckle.

Darrel leans down and empties a mouth of chewed food down into his cloth napkin, slowly shuffling the plate of turtle meat toward the side, still gagging and coughing out loud.

Breck smiles, "Horace was standing near the cooking pot, chuckling and smiling at me. I frowned at Horace. 'Why didn't you take the skin off these turtle legs which is covered in a set of green ass warts?'

"Horace smiled. 'Where do you think that spicy favor comes from, boy?'" Breck laughs with his two brothers and his mother.

Darrel wipes his mouth and turns to Arie, saying with a soft timber. "Please, send in the next dinner course meal, Arie," he continues to cough and then gag, swallowing down the turtle meat.

"Please bring into the dining room each warmed plate with a medium-well T-bone steak and two baked potatoes, ya'll." Arie reaches over with a grin and rings the silver bell, staring at the dining room archway.
Sunday, September 21st

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

04:04 pm

Movie House location

Opera night setting

After a plate of well-done steaks and baked potatoes on Saturday night, Darrel dictated to the new family unit there would be a family night outing for next week, so both Arie and Darrel could share and spend time with her three sons. The triplet brothers agreed and planned an event while secretly inviting each one of their blood family members and a few family friends consisting of Iredell, Robert Earl, Reese, Jarvis, Aurora, Seth, Babbie, Lacey, and Violet for the fun evening.

The family event was dubbed, Opera Night in Alabama, which had been created and produced by Flamingo.

An opera is an art form, where a set of fictional characters sing in a string of strange foreign language words, instead of speaking out loud in a set of clear English sentences. There is a band of live musicians, who play musical instruments, performing music songs with a singer standing behind a colorful background of the theme painted on a far wall. The colorful theme represents a single room, a city, or a country. Sometimes, only a chair and a small table make up the entire stage prop.

The art form started in the country of Italy, in the year 1598 A.D.

Typically, each attendee to an opera show sits inside a dark theater, wearing a formal dress with a set of pearls or a formal tuxedo with a bowtie which pays tribute to the dead opera writers of yesteryears, expect tonight in Lacy Springs, Alabama.

Flamingo had researched extensively about the subject topic: opera.

During the opera play, each patron is provided with a set of entertainment props, such like, a hat or a hand fan for shit and giggles. Flamingo selects a face mask which is painted in bright red with a pair of two eye holes, two nose holes, and no mouth hole that represents a demon. Within the play, the demon devours the main character on Planet Earth and then sends him down into heated Fire Hell.

Three hours ago, two black-tinted limousines were filled with numerous individuals and then arrived a few minutes before five o'clock at the Lacy Springs Movie House on _Kay Road_ which was a short five-minute drive from the Balegreen Cow Ranch.

Flamingo had paid and coached in advance each movie house usher to act as an official Opera Ambassador. A set of four opera ambassadors were stationed outside the movie house doors and then moved ahead, opening each limousine door, escorting each female into the theater lobby.

The usual traditional opera box for a patron was replaced with three rows of side-by-side movie house seats.

Arie sat in the middle of the row in-between Flamingo and Breck. Violet sat beside Flamingo. Lacey was seated next to Breck. And Darrel on the end seat from Breck. Cinco and Babbie were seated next to Violet.

Iredell, Robert Earl, Jarvis, Reese, Aurora, and Moe occupied the row of seats in front of Arie.

Each opera ambassador passed out a paper program and a red tinted face mask that represented the demon from the final act of the opera.

Flamingo selected the play, which was entitled, _Don Giovanni_. The opera had two acts with opera music which was created by the genius and deceased Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. The music composition included two flutes, two horns, two trumpets, three trombones, and percussion timpani along with other string instruments.

Music is the heart and soul of an opera as a southern person cannot understand any of the foreign words which are sung within the play.

Each opera ambassador was paid money and was not allowed back into the movie house theater for any reason which had been arranged by Flamingo. Flamingo implemented another impromptu plan. He designated Darrel as the new food gopher for the evening while Flamingo and his friends and family members enjoyed the opera show.

Flamingo would receive an individual sliver of paper for a food item coming from any seat direction. Then he would pass down that pile of papers down to Darrel, who was placed at the end of the row, on purpose.

Once each person settled down into their assigned seat, a soft prelude of flute instruments played throughout the theater coming from a recorded musical disc, which had been provided by Flamingo too. Then the movie house lights dimmed down into darkness.

The opera show was classified as a Saturday movie film matinee, so no person was required to wear a set of evening clothes with tiaras and tuxedos. Or Cinco would have not attended the opera play. However, each patron elected to appear elegant in a set of Sunday clothing with a pair of fashion high heels sandals and fake pearls.

The triplet brothers donned a pair of cowboy boots and a pair of faded blue jeans.

On Monday afternoon, after the football practice, Flamingo paid the movie house management office in cash money to exclude each sponsor and commercial advertisement on the big movie theater screen. Thus, the opera play started immediately keeping the movie show under two hours of wasted teen-time.

On the movie screen, the bright light exhibited the first act sounding with an exquisite loud music of bass instruments and woodwinds which was coupled with a set of powerful singing voices in a set of foreign words without an academic translation but with vivid visual meaning.

The rose roses, the yellow daisies, and the pink buttercups inside a lovely flower garden setting appeared as the first background scene within the film. The main character, a red masked Don Giovanni emerged out from the ball room holding a golden sword in his fighting hand and then stuck down, killing an unarmed man without mercy. Each red tinted blood protein sprayed over each pretty colorful flower petal.

The entire opera play was based on Don Giovanni's desire and want for the pretty daughter of the dead man, whom he killed for greed and lust of a young girl's innocence.

At 06:06 pm, inside the second silver-tinted limousine, traveling back to the Balegreen cow ranch house, Iredell sits beside her husband Robert Earl. Breck and Lacey shares the same bench seat with Iredell and Robert Earl. Flamingo, Violet, Babbie, and Cinco sit on the opposite bench seat.

Iredell nods with a smile to Flamingo. "I was greatly impressed with the film media of the famous opera play, Flamingo. The close-up with their eyeballs and their mouths showed their love, their grief, their loss, and their rage. I could see the swallowing bile going down on the throat. The trembling of the lips. The watering of the eyes. You do not get to see all these details in a live performance at the New York Metropolitan Center in New York City."

Robert Earl frowns, "Really, Iredell! Do you have to be so graphic in front of the children?"

Breck reads out loud from the paper program. "The star asshole is named Don Giovanni. He is a young arrogant nobleman, who abuses everyone, until he comes upon a set of demons. Then, he can't kill, beat up, dodge, or outwit a demon."

"Who can outwit a demon, Breck?" Flamingo laughs. Each brother mental ponders the same question as a true demon-man rides inside the first limousine with their mother Arie.

Inside the second limousine, Robert Earl smiles at Flamingo. "Musical maestro Mozart personally supervised the Vienna premiere of his opera musical work on May, the seventh, in the year 1788, within the country of Italy."

Cinco slams the paper down into his open palm, wearing a smile. "I find it absolutootly fascinating that Don Giovanni was the one that plotted and killed Donna Anna's daddy in the first scene. Then, he tried to seduce poor Donna Anna and a second girl without success, and then he escaped."

Iredell nods. "Alas, at the end, Don Giovanni is finally caught by the soul of the girl's murdered father and then he is dragged down into hell. This is a pretty good plot, right, Flamingo?" Flamingo smiles, bobbing his nasty baseball cap up and down at his Grandmother.

"Mozart's play _Don Giovanni_ , Shakespeare's play _Hamlet,_ and the Atlantic Ocean has been called 'the three finest things Almighty God has ever made,' said Gustavo Flaubert, who was known to be one of the greatest book novelists in Western literature." Robert Earl smiles.

Violet grins. "I enjoyed the final scene. Were the people supposed to be images of demons?" She wiggles her face mask near her smile.

Flamingo turns and smiles at his girl. "You are correct, Violet. That's where I got the idea for the mask, a demon mask." He chuckles with Cinco and Breck. Flamingo lifts the red tinted mask which is shaped like a human face, without any facial expression, but rows of drilled out dark holes, near his grin.

Lacey nods with a smile to Violet. "I liked best her satin ball gown in emerald green during the ball room dance scene."

"We have arrived at the Balegreen Cow Ranch, Flamingo, sir." The limousine driver says through the hidden speaker inside the rear cabin then slows the speed and then gently turns into the driveway. The vehicle rolls into a stop. The driver slides out from the door and opens each door with a smile.

One person or two persons exit out from the limousine and move inside the farm house, heading towards the dining room for the evening meal, which is compliments of the triplet brothers also.

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

Dining Room setting

07:31 pm

The evening meal has been consumed by each invited guest. Now, the last course is served by the triplets.

Through the dining room archway, Breck and Cinco carefully enter the dining room, toting a heavy serving tray with a vanilla frosted cake to Arie. She continues to sit and smiles on the opposite end of the dining room table, which is referenced as the queen's chair. Breck and Cinco lifts the heavy cake over the hair roots on Arie and then gently places the tray on top of hard surface a few inches from her placement setting.

The dessert cake is the side profile of a horse skull which is made of vanilla frosting. Numerous swirling strands of icing in black hue fly away from the horse skull forming a mane, a single eye socket, one side of a flared nostril, and a lower parted lip on the horse's mouth muzzle. The dessert cake celebrates the peaceful family adventure to the local movie house, where each person had enjoyed the opera play.

Flamingo selected and arranged the opera play. Breck and Cinco worked with the house staff and ordered the supper meal, consisting of steak, pond fried catfish, hush puppies, baked white potatoes, and a garden salad.

Arie smiles two crowded rows of white-tinted burning candles, which are huddled inside the single eye socket on the horse cake, leaning down and gently blows out each candle which celebrates her new family unit. Each candle fire dies one at a time without smoke.

Breck and Cinco lift the cake from the table surface and then slowly back steps from Arie, moving ahead, placing the tray on top of the buffet table surface. Two members of the paid house staff stand inside the wall corner and then advance to the cake, slicing up individual pieces of dessert on top of the tiny dessert dishes for the invited guests.

The other house staff duties have been finished for evening wrapping up the nightly fun festival for the upcoming groom and bride at the Balegreen Cow Ranch.

Breck and Cinco tote a dish of cake and serve each guest, before sitting back down in their assigned dining room chair, eating the sweet dessert beside their girl also.

Flamingo surprised more than Darrel tonight. Arie was still smiling regarding the creative opera night event which included her family members and her new friends consisting of Lacey, Violet, and A.J., who had attended the family event.

Arie sits at the end table with Darrel on her right elbow; Flamingo is sitting on her opposite elbow. Violet sits beside Flamingo. Breck and Lacey cuddle together. A.J. sits beside Aurora.

Darrel bumps an elbow during eating into Robert Earl. Robert Earl sits with his wife Iredell. Cinco and Babbie lean over and whisper during bits of food. Reese and Jarvis sit beside Babbie. Moe occupies the other end of the dining room table.

Robert Earl lifts his filled wine glass near his smile proposing a toast to the new couple. "To Arie and her future family, may great happiness and blessed joy be inside your home always and forever!"

"Here! Here!" Iredell lifts her wine glass with a smile and nods to Arie without sipping the wine.

A.J. lifts his coffee cup, which has been served with the cake slice, smiling at Arie. "I pray for peace and warmth within this household. And ask our Maker that Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco tell me way in advance the next time they plan a family outing around a singing opera play, instead of a fishing hole," he laughs with the others.

"Amen to that one!" Jarvis nods with a smile and then sips the coffee also.

Arie stands and stares at each face holding up her glass of soy milk in the air near her smile. She likes to eat cake with a glass of milk, not a cup of coffee. "Thank you to all! I love each one of you, especially my little mischievous and magnificent triplet boys. Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco in that proper birth order, I am so happy and full of peace. I want all my days and nights to be filled with love and new adventures. Thanks for sharing our special moment. We will plan to host lots of these engagements. Don't we, Darrel?"

Darrel looks up and scans the table of guests, saying with a sneer. "Yes, sweet pea, we do, but minus thirteen other heated bodies," he laughs with the others. She sips the beverage ending the toast with her guests.

Flamingo swiftly stands upright from his chair and then assists Arie back down into her seat.

Arie grabs the fork and picks off the black hue of frosting from the cake. "This evening has been so magically. Flamingo, I wanted to ask you. How did you come up with the novice idea of an opera play, sweetheart?"

Flamingo chews the cake and then swallows cocking his chin and smile at Arie. "I wanted something magically memorable for our almost, newest, additional family member in another thirty-nine hours, six minutes, and four seconds for me to remember, before I finally say, bye, bye, Darrel," he laughs with his two brothers. Darrel stops the chewing the cake and looks up, staring with a sour frown at Flamingo and his two troublesome brothers in silence.

Flamingo smiles at Darrel while talking to Arie. "Did you understand the plot line of the play, Mama? The main character was a noble aristocrat, but acted like a jackass, who tried to use and abuse all the rich and poor folks around him. Then the jackass of the play got what truly was coming to him at the end, in the end. The end!" He continues to smirk at Darrel. "Hell! The jackass finally is living in the home with the devil. Ain't that right, Darrel?"

She continues to pick the black frost from her cake slice. "I did follow the story line with ease, even if all the words were in the foreign language of Italian. I felt so sorry for Don and the girl named Donna. But remember this, Flamingo. A play was written during a time of verbal storytelling for both amusement and entertainment. The people back then did not possess a series of thousand different television programs or the magic of the internet to occupy their mind."

Flamingo stares at Darrel. "I remember, very well, Mama. I always remember, very well, Mama. I never forget anything, Mama."

Darrel softly snarls at Flamingo and then looks down, playing with the napkin in his lap, viewing the nose profile on Arie. "Arie, sweet pea..."

Flamingo slices his fork down into the cake hitting the stoneware, sounding with a soft snarl at Darrel.

Darrel smiles at Arie. "We have completed all the arrangements set for the wedding in the church on Saturday at high noon, except for one small last item."

She continues to pick off the black colored frosting from her cake piece. "What small last item?"

"The last two small items are the two wedding bands." Darrel nods to Flamingo.

She continues to pick off the black colored frosting from her cake piece. "We have a set of bride and groom wedding bands. I have stored the rings inside the safe for safekeeping as a keep sake," Arie smiles down at the cake.

He smiles at Flamingo, "Excellent, sweet pea! The wedding rings are located with the cash money and your other gem stones, where they are supposed to be," he turns and frowns at Arie. "I was wondering, sweet pea. Why is your hair falling down your shoulder blades? I like your hairdo up in a ponytail."

She continues to scrape off the black colored frosting from her cake slice. "I do, too, like the hairdo. I wasn't expecting such a grand turnout of kinfolks and friends for our first family night outing which has been provided by my brilliant son. I simply thought that we would go to a family restaurant in Huntsville or maybe Birmingham."

"I expected the same type form a first-time family outing also. I was pleased with your magically memorable Hollywood side show, Flamingo. For our honeymoon, I'll take you to a real singing opera play in the city of New York, sweet pea."

She continues to scrape away the black tinted frosting from her cake slice. "That'd be nice, Darrel. But I'll need to plan in advance an away trip away from the ranch."

"We can rent a private jet for the night, Arie."

"We could fly away, as long as, I plan in advance for my time away from the ranch."

He smiles, "Excellent, sweet pea! When we do fly to the city of New York? I want you to wear your hair in a stylist hair-do with the pony tail."

"All right, Darrel." She continues to scrape off the messy black tinted frosting from her cake piece.

"Mama, I like your hair down and around your shoulders, because you appear like a teeny bopper with your hair in a girly ponytail while hanging around with an old man." Flamingo laughs with his two brothers. She smiles at the funny remark and continues to scrape away the messy black tinted frosting from her cake slice. Darrel turns and snarls at Flamingo. Flamingo jabs his finger at Darrel then grins, "Hmm! I think I see a long strand of silver-gray tinted hair around the right earlobe on old man Darrel."

"What!" Darrel gasps in alarm and drops the fork down into the soft cake, reaching up, touching both of his earlobes and then he smirks at Flamingo. "Arie, when we fly to the city of New York for the opera play, you are required to wear a set of evening clothes, such like, a formal gown, a set of diamonds, and a pair of heels."

"All right, Darrel." She continues to scrape the black tinted frosting off her fork.

"Mama, I believe you should wear a pair of your faded and ripped blue jeans just to show these snobby city slickers how a country princess shakes her thing," he laughs.

Darrel frowns at Flamingo. "I totally disagree with you wearing a pair of worn, faded, and ripped blue jeans to the New York Metropolitan Opera House. You are required to dress like a civilized human for Christ's sake."

"All right, Darrel." She continues to scrape the black tinted frosting off her fingers.

"Mama, Breck, Cinco, and I should accommodate you and Darrel to the New York Metropolitan Opera House also. I would really enjoy hearing the singers sing in Italian words. Then, Breck, Cinco, me, and you can wear a pair of faded blue jeans and a pair of cowboy boots in front of those snobby city slickers."

"All right, Flamingo." She continues to scrape the black tinted frosting off her nails.

Darrel fakes a smile to Flamingo. "Arie, why did you change out of your dressy skirt? Our guests continue to wear their best clothing for the evening dinner meal tonight."

Flamingo sneers. "Breck, Cinco, and I are wearing out Sunday clothing during the opera play and right now during the suppertime meal. We are a group of southern redneck beaus and belles living here in Lacy Springs, Alabama, American style," he laughs with his brothers.

She continues to wipe the black tinted frosting from her hands. "I wanted to feel comfortable here at home, Darrel. I feel comfortable in my pair of blue jeans. This is my home. I dress as I please in my house."

Darrel smiles at Flamingo. "Arie, I prefer that you dress in a more social style without a pair of blue jeans."

"All right, Darrel." She continues to clean off the messy and sticky black colored frosting from her fingers with the napkin.

Flamingo exhales with a sour frown and stares at Darrel. "Mama, it is very difficult to inspect each chicken coop in a pair of platform high heels. I do believe that your future husband Darrel needs to learn to wear a pair of his own comfortable blue jeans when he accommodates you on your horse ride through the cow pastures."

"What!" Darrel gasps in shock. "I do not think I look acceptable in a pair of comfortable blue jeans, Arie."

Flamingo smiles with a nod. "My mama looks great in her blue jeans."

"Thanks, Flamingo!" She almost wipes off the messy and sticky black colored frosting from her hands and arms.

Darrel smirks. "Arie looks beauty in her dressy skirts, too."

"Thank you, Darrel." She continues to wipe down her arms from the black sticky frosting.

Flamingo smiles with a nod. "My mama looks pretty in her pink tee shirts too."

"Arie looks gorgeous in her designer suits also."

"Thank you, Darrel." She smiles down at her clean hands.

"Mama looks precious in her pair of cowgirl boots." Flamingo smiles with a nod without eating his slice of cake.

She places the dirty napkin on top of the table with a smile. The cake looks terrible to eat. "Thanks, Flamingo."

"And Arie looks precious naked as well." Darrel smirks.

Flamingo swiftly leaps up from his chair with a loud growl, over the dining table hard surface with a loud sneer, flinging away each cake dish and beverage glass around the hard surface, spilling the food over his body, his mother Arie, his enemy Darrel, and some of the other guests. He stretches outward his wiggling fingers while trying to strangle the ugly bowtie around the neck on Darrel.

Arie swiftly pushes away from her chair a few feet from the table and gasps in alarm.

Breck leaps from his chair and dashes around the table to Arie while watching Flamingo and Darrel. He stops, leans down, and pulls his mother out from the chair, cuddling her from the danger.

A.J. and Cinco, both swiftly slide off a chair and then race around the table.

A.J. stops, reaches down, and jerks Darrel from the chair with one hand, standing the male upright on the floor. A.J. leans over and softly growls into the pale tinted cheekbone on Darrel for challenging the young teen-ass and causing a messy scene at Arie's dinner party.

Cinco stops, reaches down, jerks Flamingo by the neck and the ass cheeks from the table surface, standing Flamingo upright on the floor also. Cinco spins them around and shuffles from the dining room, moving toward the front yard.

A.J. shoves and sneers at the back spine on Darrel while moving them towards the entrance hallway, following the back spine on Cinco toward the front lawn also.

The other males from the dining room exit the room and follow the back spine on A.J. in silence.

At 09:09 pm, Cinco and Flamingo quickly exit the house and move ahead, stopping in the middle of the manicured lawn, facing the western sunlight.

A.J. and Darrel exit the house and stomp down each bricked step, stopping in the grass also, facing Flamingo and Cinco.

A.J. jabs his finger with a sour frown at Flamingo and then Darrel. "Now, you, two gentlemen will apology to each other first and then you, two gentlemen will apology to Miss Arie second. And then you, Darrel will say your final good-night to your fiancé. Then you, Darrel will be on your way back home immediately."

Darrel sneers. "I..."

"...saved your ass, Darrel." A.J. leans over and snarls in the cheekbone on Darrel. "Flamingo can whip your sorry butt with both his hands tied behind his fit waistline. Don't mess with a younger set of teen asses, sir! They are too sharp, too mean, and too strong for a couple of old hoots, like you and me, Darrel," he turns and nods to Flamingo, "Flamingo!"

"Sorry, ya piece of shit!" Flamingo sneers and steps closer towards Darrel while trying to instigate a true fist fight that the young ass teen will win.

A.J. softly chuckles with a silly grin. "Good enough, son!"

Darrel back steps from an angry Flamingo, saying with a sissy whine. "He didn't offer an apology. Instead, he called me a nasty name."

A.J. nods with a smile. "A nasty nickname, yeah, he did. Darrel, try to act like you're the adult here. Now, it is your turn to apology to Flamingo."

Darrel sneers at Flamingo, "Ditto!"

A.J. chuckles with Breck and Cinco and then turns to wink at Flamingo. "Good enough, boy!" He leans over and growls into the cheekbone on Darrel. "Now, you go back inside the house and give Miss Arie your apology and your kiss, Darrel. Then, you scoot your ass back home. Then, you calm both your mind and personality down to a warm cup of tea, before the rehearsal dinner, tomorrow night."

Darrel sneers. "I..."

Both Breck and Cinco stomp ahead towards Darrel and sound with a loud sneer.

"...am leaving for the evening." Darrel back steps from A.J. and Flamingo spinning around to face an open archway, moving ahead towards the house. Robert Earl slowly pads beside Darrel.

On top of the manicured lawn, Flamingo turns and sneers at the back spine on Darrel. "What in tarnation was that about, A.J.?"

A.J. exhales with worry and turns to stare at the back spine on Darrel. "That was a gentleman's compromise, Flamingo, when a redneck beating wouldn't do." He turns and nods to Flamingo. "I understand how you feel, Flamingo."

"I understand that I would feel better, if I could have beaten his ass black and blue in non-matching tinted colors." Flamingo snorts and continues to stare at the back spine on Darrel.

A.J. nods with a stern face. "And is this how you want your male-buddy relationship to be with Arie's future husband?" Darrel enters the house first and is followed by Robert Earl. The front door closes shut.

Breck moves ahead, stops, and stands, sneering into the nose profile on Flamingo. "Naw."

A.J. smiles, "That's a great answer, Breck. Now, what is Flamingo's great answer?"

"His answer is, no, as well." Cinco moves ahead, stops, and stands, sneering into the nose profile on Flamingo.

A.J. jabs his finger at the nose bridge on Flamingo and states with a sour frown. "You, sir, tried to egg Darrel into a fist fight tonight. Violence is not the solution. It is the problem. We all heard the verbal exchange of hidden words and nasty remarks between you and Darrel, Flamingo. Your mama is too much of a southern lady to understand and to react with your misbehaving in front of her invited company."

Flamingo bows his chin and stares down at the ground. "Yes sir."

A.J. reaches out and gently pats the collar bone on Flamingo, saying with a smile. "Look!" Flamingo looks up with a stern face. A.J. smiles. "I would have reacted the very same way as a young buck at your age," he turns and stares at the closed door. "Darrel, he would be a pile of bones and blood by now. That's for damn shore," he returns and frowns at Flamingo. "So, son, you should be relieved and glad that your mother has some really smart family members and one or two good friends."

"Yes sir." Flamingo exhales with bitterness with Darrel and his teenly behavior tonight.

He smiles with a nod. "Now, let's end the night on a happy note! We get to see that Flamingo suck up to his mama for being a bad kid," he back steps from Flamingo and turns to face the closed door with a smile, leading the males back into the house to finish the dinner meal.
Four days later...

Thursday September 25th

06:06 pm

Hot temperatures with dull sunlight

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Entrance hallway setting

Cinco and Breck slowly stomp down the staircase from their individual bedroom while whispering a set of secret words into each other's cheekbone.

Breck frowns with a whisper. "He wasn't at school today."

Cinco frowns and whispers back. "Yeah, he missed the entire day of school and all of his AP classes also."

He nods. "Yeah, he missed the entire range of AP classes, after lunchtime, too. Lacey reported Flamingo missing to me, during the lunchtime meal."

Cinco gasps in alarm. "Flamingo, he missed the entire two hours of football practice, also. Coach had a shit fit and kept asking me, if Flamingo was sick or something. He never misses football practice. You miss football practice."

"I do not. Well, I did miss just that one time," he exhales with annoyance.

Cinco gasps in alarm. "Flamingo, he never misses his school classes or his quarterback football practice. I think he's ashamed of his bad ass behavior from the dinner party on Sunday night."

He smiles, "Naw, Flamingo ain't never ashamed of nothing."

Cinco nods. "Yeah, he's ashamed of everything. Then where is his ass located at?"

He grins. "Flamingo is mad. I bet he killed and murdered Diarrhea this morning and is burying the cold dead blue tinted body underneath an old oak tree down in the woodlands. You and I will go looking for the dead body and missing Flamingo, right after the rehearsal dinner party." He stops and stands in front of the closed door, wearing a pair of worn but polished black and brown tinted cowboy boots, a dark blue sports coat jacket, a white tinted tee shirt, and a pair of dark colored blue jeans.

Cinco displays a clean, white-tinted tee shirt underneath a black-tinted wind breaker, a pair slightly dirty black tinted biker boots, and a pair of slightly clean black tinted blue jeans. He nods with a smile to Breck. "Yeah, that's why he was missing from his AP classes and football practice. It takes lots of time to plot, plan, and plant a dead body."

On the side wall, Arie leads her female relatives consisting of Aurora, Aurora's two small daughters, Reese, and Iredell from the belle parlor room. Each female wears a tea-length silk dress in pale yellow with wiggling lines of tiny pink roses and green vines that are scattered around the poufy short skirt. The skirt hides an itchy two-tiered crinoline attacking a pair of naked legs. The crinoline fabric creates a floating circle sweeping outward from a pink leather belt that accentuates the deep neckline. The dress exhibits a pair of cap sleeves at the shoulder tips. Each female displays a pair of yellow tinted shoes to match the dress.

Robert Earl moves beside Jarvis coming from the beau parlor room whispering a set of secret words. He enjoys dressing in an expensive designer business suit selecting a bright gray for the rehearsal dinner this evening.

Jarvis trucks ahead in a pair of polished brown tinted cowboy boots, a pair of dark blue jeans, and a white shirt which is covered with a dark blue sports coat jacket for celebrating the special upcoming marriage ceremony with his daughter Arie.

"The gang is almost all here inside the entrance hall." Breck continues to stand in front of the closed door and leans over, whispering into the eardrum on Cinco.

"Where is Flamingo located at?" Cinco whispers back to Breck while faking his smile to his mother Arie. Arie stops and stands beside Cinco, facing the staircase.

Robert Earl and Jarvis stop and stand beside Breck, facing the staircase also.

The closed front doors part open, revealing beams of dull sunlight. A single male stands upright in the open archway.

The line of people slowly swings around and stares at Darrel. He wears a new suit dark blue business suit, a white dress shirt, a dark blue bowtie, and a pair of twinkling diamond sleeve cuffs that reflect the bright sunlight.

"Where is Flamingo located at?" Robert Earl scans the entrance hall and wears a pair of eye glasses and a sour frown.

"Here!" A deep baritone timber echoes throughout the empty entrance hall from the top of the staircase.

Each body spins around for a second time and faces the staircase and as each face looks at the second-floor balcony and stares at the familiar teen male. Each pair of eyeballs absorbs a new image and as each face smiles with delight.

Flamingo elegantly dashes down the staircase with a smile displaying a pair of shiny black expensive loafers, not his nasty flip flops. A pair of black tinted trousers, not his set of camo-colored cargo pants. And he wears a pale yellow tinted knit shirt underneath a matching pale-yellow sports coat jacket, not one of his vile-worded, colored tee shirts. And he sports a new hairdo too.

Flamingo has sliced off his pretty blonde tinted shoulder length curls around his earlobes and his eyebrows, presenting a properly cropped haircut around his face, ears, and neckline which looks very similar to Breck. He parts his hair on the left side with a set of flowing blonde bangs, without the nasty ass-backwards baseball cap.

On top of the marble floor, Arie gasps with a smile and advances ahead towards Flamingo. He stomps down onto the marble in a pair of new black leather shoes, wearing a smile in silence. "Flamingo!" She leans over and hugs her son, pulling back with a smile of happiness.

Flamingo smiles, "Mama."

She continues to nod and smiles at her son. "You are so handsome, Middle Child."

"Thanks, Mama," Flamingo smiles.

"Dude, what in the hell happened to you? Flamingo has caught a brain bot that's eating away his neurons, Breck. Call a doctor quick!" Cinco moves ahead and stops, leaning over, punching the bicep on Flamingo. Cinco is seeing a heavenly miracle with Flamingo's physical transformation, since only Brother Jesus can do those things.

"Bro!" Breck moves ahead, spins around with a smile, and stands beside his brother Flamingo, saying with a chuckle. "We match now."

Flamingo elbows Breck with a sour frown, "Asshole! We're identical triplets. Of course, we match in both appearance and brains, but not personality."

"I have my own set of matching triplets." Arie steps back from her three sons while admiring her three little angels, who had been sent down from heaven. She quickly prays to Brother Jesus for her three little redneck babies that she loves more than herself. She holds back the wet tears coming from a pair of blinking eyelashes without the mascara, since this is not the time or place to dwell on her three baby boys.

"Flamingo, you're a true southern gentleman. I take back all the nasty sentences that I had constructed for years and years about you." Robert Earl moves ahead with a chuckle and stops, extending a hand to Flamingo.

"What!" Flamingo gasps and extends his hand to Robert Earl, shaking the limb, releasing the hand and presents a puzzled brow.

"Robert Earl, he's mean..." Iredell moves ahead with a smirk and leans over, slapping the arm on Robert Earl while defending her troublesome grandson. "I mean, he means to say that statement is a silly childish taunt, dear. Don't you agree with me, Robert Earl?"

"All three of your sons favor Breck, Junior, so much, Arie." Reese moves ahead, stops, and stands beside Arie while admiring her three handsome grandsons. She laughs. "Now, if Cinco...?"

"Naw!" Cinco shook his curls and covers his earlobes, wearing a stern face. "Naw! No way! I'm perfect. And I'm keeping all my shoulder length curls. My girl Babbie likes them. She loves me with my curls." He swiftly moves ahead towards the open archway, viewing two parked limousines on top of the driveway. The two vehicles will carry the group of hungry wedding guests to the church for the rehearsal practice and then the restaurant for the dinner tonight.

Inside the entrance hall, "Lay off, Cinco, dear! He's fine and dandy looking. Let's go and eat. My tummy's rumbling for some fried catfish, Arie." Jarvis spins around with a grin and rubs his growling stomach, following the back spine on Cinco, exiting the house. He shuffles toward one of the open doors on the same limousine.

Inside the entrance hall, Reese and Aurora herd the two young girls out the house and towards an open door, which is held by the driver.

Robert Earl spins around from Flamingo and moves ahead towards Darrel, extending a handshake also. They shake hands and then Robert Earl exits the house, moving ahead towards the open door on the first limousine for the rehearsal practice at the church.

Inside the entrance hall, Breck punches Flamingo with laughter and then stands still and views Darrel, wearing a stern face. Breck elbows Flamingo and then swiftly moves ahead with a nod to Darrel, exiting the house, moving ahead to the second limousine with Cinco.

Inside the entrance hall, Arie spins around to face Darrel with a smile, moves ahead, and stops, leaning over, gently pecking a light kiss on his cheekbone and pulls back with a giggle. Darrel smiles at Arie in silence.

Iredell pulls up behind Arie and reaches out, grabbing the naked arm on Arie, scooting around Darrel. They exit the house together. Iredell leans over and whispers into the eardrum on Arie. "Flamingo did that for you, dear."

"I know." Arie whispers back with a smile. They slowly stroll ahead towards the first limousine while leaving Darrel and Flamingo inside the house.

Inside the entrance hallway, Flamingo moves ahead, stops, and stands in front Darrel, extending his hand with a stern face. "I am sorry about my misplaced and mischievous teen-ass behavior last night, Darrel."

Darrel accepts the handshake and says with a nod and a smile. "Your personal apology is accepted, young man," he releases the hand and then slaps the collar bone on Flamingo. "You will make a fine young adult, Mr. Balegreen."

"Thank you." Flamingo nods with a smile.

Darrel smiles. "I will be there inside the limousine in a moment. Please, tell your mama that I gotta go and pee with nerves from the groom."

"Will do." Flamingo nods with a chuckle and scoots around Darrel, exiting the house, moving into the second limousine for the rehearsal practice, before the dinner meal.

Inside the entrance hall, Darrel stands in place and scans the interior of the mansion, viewing the beautiful staircase which occupies three flights of steps that leads upward to the third level bedrooms here inside the grand Balegreen mansion. He slowly moves ahead and stares down at the badly marked marble floor with a soft huff of annoyance. He looks up with a sour frown and then scoots sideways, facing a narrow semi-dark hallway that leads further down into the main house. He slowly strolls ahead with a smile passing each open archway, turning into the den room, a dark and danger atmosphere.

He stops and stands in front of a dark brown long sofa with a pine cone-pattern, pulling out his personal mobile telephone. He swishes the screen and views the menu, lifting the phone to his eardrum, listening to the ring. Then he hears the connection without waiting for a verbal greeting with a smile. "I..."

Inside the entrance hall, Arie has left the cool air-conditioned comfort of the rental limousine and re-enters the house, saying with a whisper. "Forget my purse. Pay the waitresses in cash. Don't forget to lock the front door. I'm a nervous wreck, before my wedding," she stops and stands in front of the staircase, viewing the room, saying with a smile, "Darrel." She scans the room for a second time with a grin, "Darrel." She does not see him inside the entrance hall.

Darrel must be seated inside the second limousine with Cinco and Breck. She is so happy that her four men are at peace and not at war. Arie would be heartbroken, if she had to choose her happiness between her three sons or her future husband.

"Husband..." Arie softly whispers with a smile and closes her eyelashes, looking up to see the ceiling as it represents heaven, where all the angels and her dead husband live, "Breck, I'm getting married, again. I hope you approve. I shore do, darling. I miss you, Breck." She opens her eyelashes with a giggle and a grin, looking down at the staircase. "The cash money is located in the hidden bank safe," she moves ahead and then stops with a gasp, "No, silly cowgirl. I took the cash money out from the bank safe. The money is in the belle parlor room inside an envelope." She spins around and strolls into the belle parlor room.

She enters the room, stops, and stands beside the office desk, reaching out for the brown envelope with cash to pay the waitresses at the fancy restaurant that Darrel has selected for the rehearsal dinner. She silently stands in pose and watches the small television monitor on the side wall.

Inside each parlor room on a specific wall, a set of numerous audio and visual television monitors scout and scan the outside campus grounds on her ranch and each interior room inside her house. An invisible satellite beam comes down from outer space and then spies on each traveling vehicle which drives on County Road Number 254, coming up the private driveway on the Balegreen Cow Ranch for any type of disturber. Arie is a billionaire with billions and billions of dollars in her money bank account using the latest, greatest technology to protect her three little redneck babies from both danger and harm.

Arie slowly moves ahead and as her pair of blue colored eyeballs stay glued to the center television monitor within the nine individual screens that had been built between the dark panels of wood. She had been showing each individual television screen earlier in the afternoon to her sister Aurora and her mother Reese for the first time, but not her mother-in-law Iredell.

Iredell had insisted that her daughter-in-law Arie purchase and install a secret home alarm and monitor system for the farm ranch to monitor her three mischievous sons while avoiding any teenly trouble.

The belle parlor room, like the beau parlor room, holds nine built-in individual television screens which are all hidden behind a set of matching cherry wood panels. Each monitor displays either a visual image of a person at a high beam of light or a heated outline of a person at a lower beam of light while tracing a pair of boots or a set of naked toes inside each interior room within the Balegreen House.

Arie tilts her face and reaches down turning the volume up a little louder for her eardrums.

Darrel smiles and paces alone side to side in front of the sofa and as his lips move while talking on his mobile telephone, thrusting his arm in the air with excitement.

Next, Arie reaches over and presses the recording button on the tiny keyboard underneath the hidden television monitor, since her billions of dollars buys the latest and greatest state of art technology. She gently slides the hidden panel over the nine television screens with one hand while hiding once again the secret alarm system.

His private but social conversation is being recorded and then will be reviewed by Arie later in the evening, after the rehearsal dinner.

She back steps with a stern face from the hidden wall panel and then stops, inspecting the room with a nod, spinning around to face the open archway, exiting her home and enters the first limousine while waiting for Darrel.
Five days later...

Saturday September 27th

Lacy Springs Church location

Hot temperatures with gray clouds and light rain

Auditorium setting

01:01 pm

The musical organ plays the familiar spiritual song: _Jesus Loves the Little Children._ The church song had been written by preacher Clarence Herbert Woolston in the year 1771.

On top of the church altar, Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco exit out from the side door within the altar wall and then stop, standing on the right side of the preacher, viewing the closed entrance doors. One heavy brown-tinted wooden door opens.

Asa and Alina slowly move down an empty aisle while dancing to the slow music, skipping like a pair of frogs, and then running like a pair of ponies and then stop, standing beside their mother on the first church pew while giggling with smiles.

On top of the church altar, groom Darrel stands alone on the left side wearing a gray morning coat and a pair of matching trousers that match each male in the wedding party.

Asa and Alina, each one wears a white sundress and turns the basket of flowers upside down towards the polished wooden floor. A pile of pink tiny rose petals dumps down and then lands on top of the floor beside the first church pew. Then Asa and Alina bow down and curtsey to each guest while laughing out loud with fun.

Aurora continues to sit at the end of the first church pew and reaches over, grabbing the tiny naked arm on Aline, dragging her daughter inside the church pew cushion sitting next to their Grandmother Reese. Her sister flower girl Asa follows her sister and sits beside her mother Aurora.

Father of bride Jarvis and bride Arie are standing inside the church lobby waiting for a musical cue on the bride theme song.

Inside the auditorium, the organist pounds out the familiar bridal song _Here Comes the Bride._ The set of doors remain close. The song plays through the end and then silences for one second. Then the organist strikes the first musical note for the second time.

One of the two doors slightly parts with a large crackling sound.

Bride Arie storms down the aisle surprisingly toting a set of three shotguns underneath both of her armpits, wearing a gun hostler that dangles dangerously a loaded hand pistol on her right hip. She struts ahead and as her long silver tinted hair streams away from her sour face. She wears a pink-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt and a faded blue jean skirt over her pair of naked legs and her favorite pair of cowgirl boots in pink and white hue.

Each church guest gasps in shock and stares at Bride Arie and her armful of shotguns.

Father of the bride Jarvis dashes behind his daughter Arie while still wearing his gray wedding outfit and stops a few feet from the open archway policing an empty aisle, holding both of his arms in a parallel stance. He prevents the people from rushing out of their seats into the wedding aisle or getting injured by a flying stray gun bullet.

On top of the church altar, Cinco narrows his eyelids and absorbs the funny image, gasping in shock. "Mama, she ain't wearing her fancy pink wedding dress." He turns with a smile to see Darrel.

On the opposite of the church altar from the triplets, Darrel stares at Arie in confusion and back steps from the church altar while feeling both shock and fear.

"Mama, she ain't going to be getting married, today." Breck turns with a grin to see Darrel.

"Damn! Mama, she's boiling mad and it ain't at me." Flamingo turns with laughter and views Darrel.

The face of Darrel turns ashen gray while watching an angry Arie. She dashes ahead in a set of short strides in her cowgirl boots towards the church altar.

Both double doors slide open.

A line of tan-colored uniforms of local deputies pours into the auditorium with a loaded hand gun and stops, lounging in front of the open archway. Each deputy blocks the church lobby and posts a pair of booted feet three apart on the end of each church pew. The local police department is assisting Arie and controlling an auditorium of nervous wedding guests.

The fairy tale fart smells on the wrong side of the wind storm today.

At the long aisle, Arie arrives down at the bottom on the church's high altar and then stops, looking up with a smile to see her three handsome and smart-ass sons and she slowly climbs each step while getting dangerously closer to Darrel with her set of loaded shotguns.

Darrel back steps from Arie and then slams his ass into the preacher, who does not move, but wraps both of his hands around the bicep on Darrel.

Arie reaches the top third step of twelve, stops, and then gently tosses over a shotgun to each one of her sons. Each son catches and then pumps the weapon into activation, butt slapping the gun against a rib cage, rudely pointing a cold double barrel into the flared nostrils on Darrel.

The preacher quickly releases Darrel and then rapidly sidesteps out of target range into the side wall.

Darrel swiftly lifts both of his sweaty palms in total surrender and says with a firm tone. "Arie, what is the meaning of this crazy..."

"Shut it, Diarrhea!" Arie shouts out loud in her female soprano voice while sounding like a musical tone rather than a deadly threat, since her three sons are the deadly force to Darrel for the moment. She exhales with a short huff. "You are a blood sucking son of gun, only wanting my money, not me." She turns and winks at Breck, shouting out loud. "Hit it, Tommy Lee!" She returns with a wicked grin and views Darrel.

Sheriff Tommy Lee moves ahead with a chuckle, stops, and parks one polished cowboy boot on top of the last step at the church's altar. He pivots around with a grin and faces the rear wall pointing at the hidden glass booth built into the entrance wall below the balcony.

Some of the wedding audience members spin around to see the rear wall. A pair of tan-tinted curtains smoothly slides open and reveals a grinning audio technician. In front of the auditorium, three overhead gigantic television screens underneath and beside the preacher's podium quickly blink into brightness with a single colorful image. Each face views one of the three screens.

The church's video player records each church service from the preacher every Sunday morning for the group of elderly people that cannot leave their residential home here in Lacy Springs due to an illness or a sickness. Today, the audio technician has received a recorded disc from Arie's private home security system.

Groom Darrel stands in front of a dark brown-tinted pine cone-patterned long sofa while talking on his personal mobile telephone, thrusting his arm into the air.

He is engaging in a private conversation inside the den space at the Balegreen ranch house.

The video clip sounds with audio words coming from Darrel. **"I am getting married to that cute belle, tomorrow, at high noon. Told ya! I charmed the little darling with my good looks and my suave personality, without a wedding pre-nuptial to boot. I'm a slick dick, man. And she's a looker but looks a lot better covered in all that money of hers..."**

Then the audio recording stops playing. The audience of audience gasps in alarm and anger.

On top of the church altar, Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco spin around with a sneer and then take a single step closer towards Darrel.

Arie holds up her palm and stops the dead kill from one or all her sons, saying with a sweet smile. "Thanks kindly, Tommy Lee." She reaches over and pulls out her personal hand pistol, aiming the cold barrel at the throat on Darrel. She is five feet and two inches of petite, when she is compared to his six feet and one inches of tallness. She orders in a sneer. "Now, you leave outta of my town, mister, before I sic my three boys on your fanny!"

Darrel gasps in alarm. "I...I live here. I...I own a house here."

Tommy Lee clears his throat and then nosily stomps up each step displaying a white-tinted envelope in his hand, saying with a smile, and then stops beside Arie. "I got good news for you, Captain Cannot. Arie brought your little residential house for a large pile of her money," he presents a thin white tinted envelope to Darrel and sneers. "Here is a big fat check inside a little tiny envelope. Now, you can safely leave my nice town of Lacy Springs for goodness sake's alive with a breathing body, moving back to B'ham or someplace, where Arie ain't. So, you be a good boy and get outta of here right now. Or I'll be siccing all my deputy doggies on your ass, too. You see, we don't want your kind or your kin here, evermore, sir."

She scoots sideways, stops, and stands closer to Cinco while training her pistol at the throat on Darrel.

Tommy Lee leans over and jerks Darrel ahead, spinning around, slowly moving down the steps and finally exits the church door. The line deputies fall behind the back spine of Tommy Lee and Darrel, leaving the church also.

On top of the church altar, all three shotgun barrels and one hand pistol barrel follow the wiggling ass on Darrel, until his body exits the open church door.

Sheriff Tommy Lee and his devoted deputies will ensure that Darrel immediately leaves the small rural town Lacy Springs within the hour. Arie has already packed up his personal household furnishings into four moving vans using her brains and her billions plus a lawful legal entrance into his residential house with the cooperation of a local judge and Sheriff Tommy Lee, of course.

Flamingo leans over and hands his load shotgun to Cinco, who accepts it. Flamingo slowly moves ahead, stops, and leans over, cautiously wrapping both of his arms around Arie. He carefully removes the hand pistol from her cupped finger pads. Her pair of little hands is too small to hold a big hand pistol. He slowly jerks the weapon into the air over her skull, setting the safety clip while chuckling at his mama's bravery. He slides the hand pistol down into his morning coat pocket and then wraps his arms around Arie, pointing her body towards the entrance door behind the line of choir chairs.

Cinco mumbles on top of the church altar while watching the guest exit the church. "I wanted to pepper his ass, Mama, before marching out the church doors."

Breck frowns. "Shut it, Cinco!" He leans over and whispers into the earlobe on Arie. "Are you okay, Mama?" He glides his body next to her, toting the shotgun underneath his armpit.

Flamingo guides Arie and leads his brothers towards the open door inside the altar wall, smiling with a chuckle. "Her hands ain't ever shaking."

Cinco moves behind Breck. "Were you really going to kill, Diarrhea, Mama?"

Breck stops and moves with Cinco, setting the safety switch on the gun, saying with a sour frown. "And how many assholes have you killed lately, Cinco?"

"O!" Cinco frowns and moves with Breck.

Each wedding guest stares at the back spine on Arie or stands inside the aisle expressing their personal hot lip gossip or exits the building into the bright beautiful day of September pondering the surrender and capture of Darrel Kant.

On top of the altar floor, Flamingo moves through the open archway and hugs Arie with protection leading down a narrow hallway, saying with a smile. "Mama, she was defending her three little baby rednecks' honor. Ain't that right, Mama?"

Breck moves beside Cinco and smiles. "Let's sneak out the rear doors on the church. There are two limousines parked out back. So, you don't have to encounter any of the wedding guests."

"Good idea, Breck." Flamingo continues ahead with a smile and views an exit door that leads into the bright sunshine and a day of freedom from Darrel Kant.

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

06:06 pm

Entrance Hall setting

"The annual Mint Julep Charity Ball! Hell, no, Mama!" Flamingo stands a few feet from the entrance doors and fiddles with the black silk bowtie that suffocates his tonsils.

Each teen male is dressed alike wearing a white tinted dinner jacket, a pair of ironed and pressed black tinted trousers, a white long-sleeved dress shirt, and a black bowtie, without a deadly weapon. The sophisticated and sleek outfit is required to attend a formal dinner and dance at the Lacy Springs Hotel for the annual Lacy Springs Hospital Charity Ball which raises money for sick people.

Cinco sits down on the marble with a stern face and slides on a black tinted sock over a naked foot, slipping the socked foot down into a black tinted cowboy boot that his mama had purchased for her one of her sons matching the black-tinted silk bow tie, "Why not, Flamingo?"

"This is not a debutante dance, bro." Breck views the keyboard on his mobile telephone and types out a new text message for Lacey, who is located inside her house while getting ready for the Charity Ball too.

Flamingo rolls his eyeballs listing three fingers in the air and counts off while frowning at his mother. "First off, let all of us ignore the fact that the title of this wild-ass carefree, adult-only event boasts an infamously southern alcoholic drink. Second off, the dinner is served with some real weird-ass stuff like grinded boar teeth and possum fried guts that has been passed down generation to generation from some crazy-ass southern family recipes that still de-stills their own home-grown sour mesh moonshine. And lastly, but not leastly of all, this southern dance was established in the year 1821 A.D to marry off each virgin..."

"Each female was a single maiden, Flamingo." Arie reaches down with a smile and rubs the ruffles on her new gown. The gown is made of satin, light pink fabric with an off-the shoulders neckline and twenty-three rows of pink ruffles that fit around her tiny waistline. The skirt touches the floor underneath a pair of pink tinted fashion heeled sandals.

Flamingo frowns. "Each female mother married off their young teenage girl to a fat, old, ugly, male plantation owner in exchange for gold coins or cash monies."

"You can perform cheek-to-cheek dancing with your date, Flamingo." Cinco straightens the other sock and annoys his brother for fun.

"The dance move is called a waltz." She smiles.

"And the finale of this southern event is that seriously pompous, popular, and perverted slave auction, auctioning off each young girl..."

"Each girl at the event participates in a harmless fashion show displaying a rented evening gown from one of the local merchants in order to raise money for this charity ball, Middle Child." She nods.

"Have you ever been to this local charity event before now, Mama?" Breck stores the mobile telephone in the pocket of his trousers and frowns at his mother. This is the first time his mother has attended the Mint Julep Charity Dinner and Dance during his short seventeen years of life.

"I went with your father, who was my personal escort, a very long time ago." She exhales with a smile while flooding her memories with the good times of her dead husband Breck, Junior.

"Is Aurora going to be there with us, Mama?" Cinco finishes dressing his other foot and then slowly stands upright from the wall, stomping the invisible bugs on top of the floor, scraping the soles on his new pair of boots.

She nods. "Yes, my sister Aurora is going to be present but without her two girls. This is an adult-only local event. She hired a nice high schooler to babysit her children. Aurora will not be participating in the local fashion show either."

"Some southern comfort in that fucking fact," Flamingo frowns and continues to fiddle with the suffocating bowtie.

"Flamingo!" She frowns.

"You don't have to go to this local crap show affair, Mama. Everyone will understand your point of view. And if everyone does not get it, then each person can pow-wow to me for a short and quick chat-chit whilst I utilize a folded fist or an unfolded gun pistol." Flamingo laughs with Cinco.

She and her three sons wait on the rented limousine that will drive them to the social event of the year.

She nods with a smile. "I'm fine, Flamingo. Thanks for worrying about me. This is my home town. I enjoy participating in my home town events. This local charity gala provides needed monies for the hospital helping all the sick children and elderly patients."

Flamingo tosses both of his arms in the air and then slaps both hands down over the new pair of trousers, saying with a sour frown. "Fine! Then, you go and give the hospital all the damn money you want, Mama. So, we can stay home and watch some television like a normal fun-loving family does on a Saturday night here in Alabama." Cinco silently nods with a smile in agreement with Flamingo to his mother.

"The charity gala will be a lot of fun, boys. Just the thing to take our minds off of ... you know ..." she exhales with a nod.

Cinco spins around with a smile and swiftly moves ahead towards the row of glass windows. "I don't know. Tell me, again, one more time."

Breck stares with worry at his mother. "Shut it, Cinco!"

Cinco stops and stands with a smile at the glass window. "A limo is crawling up the driveway. Correction there! Two limos are coming here to our house. Are Grandmother and Granddaddy Balegreen riding with you inside the second limo, Mama?" He sidesteps from the window and reaches out, opening the front door.

She lifts the dress hem and slowly moves ahead towards the open archway, saying with puzzlement. "No. They have a separate limousine that will take them to the hotel ballroom event."

Cinco stares at the two limousines. "O! So, is your girlfriend Lacey riding with you, Breck, inside the second limo?"

Breck spins around with puzzlement and moves ahead toward the open archway. "No. Lacey, she's coming with her father."

Flamingo spins around from the staircase and Arie, sounding with laughter, moving ahead towards the open archway. "Ah! So, you finally get to meet her mysterious daddy, Breck." Flamingo is also looking forward to meeting her father too.

"What!" Breck stops, spins around, and sneers at Flamingo.

"You get to meet the parents, before the wedding ceremony, ain't that right, Breck?" Cinco moves ahead with laughter and advances towards the two limousines while deciding which one to ride inside.

Arie moves ahead and shuffles between her two sons in silence, strolling over the front porch, moving down each bricked step towards the first limousine, feeling puzzlement at the two transports.

Breck and Flamingo break apart and then spin around moving ahead with a smile through the open archway. Flamingo moves ahead and strolls with his mother.

Breck spins around and closes the front door, swinging back around to see each limousine, dashing ahead and pulls up beside Flamingo and strolls ahead towards the first limousine.

Cinco stops and stands in place, staring at each limousine while deciding which one to ride.

The driver shuffles out from the door and opens the side door on the first limousine. A.J. slides out from the rear bench seat and stands in place, smiling at each teen.

"A.J.!" Cinco stands and stares with a gasp.

"A.J.!" Flamingo stops and then stares with a smirk.

"A.J.!" Breck stops and then stares with a smile.

"A.J." Arie stops and then stares with a grin.

On top of the driveway, A.J. moves away from the door, stops, and then stands in front of Arie, extending his arm as her escort to the charity ball gala. He is dressed like the triplets, wearing a white tinted dinner jacket, a black bowtie, and a pair of shiny black tinted cowboy boots.

A second driver slides out from the driver's seat and opens the rear door for the three teens.

Cinco moves ahead with a smile and enters the second limousine, disappearing into the darkness of the rear compartment.

Flamingo nudges Breck towards the second limousine and leans over, whispering with a smile into the cheekbone on Breck. "Take our minds off...you know!"

"Get into the limo, bro!" Breck smiles. Flamingo stops, slides down, and enters the rear seat on the vehicle, sounding with laughter of amusement. Breck grins and enters the same limousine.

A.J. and Arie ride inside the first limousine.

Both limousines slowly crawl ahead over the driveway toward the charity ball event.

Lacy Springs Hotel

09:03pm

Balegreen Donor Table setting

The last dance song ends for the night with soft clapping from each dancer. Each couple returns to their individual seat at the reserved dining table. The overhead lamps dim into semi-darkness for the next event at the Lacy Springs Medical Center Children's Charity Ball.

In front of the grand auditorium, the center stage appears like a three-sided square. The wooden floor is polished into a light hue which extends into the first row of rounded tables, where a group of attendees enjoy dessert and coffee. The rear wall displays a gigantic picture of an individual smile on each child, who must live within the hospital ward due to a terminal illness. Each side wall is hidden by a set of black tinted dangling curtains that holds a line of females, who individually wait for their name to participate in the slave auction.

On the side wall, in front of the one of the dangling black tinted curtains, a tall male with gray hair wears a black tinted tuxedo and stands in front of a tall podium booth, leaning down into the mounted speaker. The auctioneer smiles into the microphone. "This is the fun part of the evening, the Slave Auction." The audience sounds with claps and cheers.

At the Balegreen table, Lacey sits next to Breck in a pink-tinted, ankle-length strapless gown and then swiftly stands upright from the chair, looking down at the tiny illuminated screen on her mobile telephone, saying out loud with a smile. "I gotta go, honey." Breck continues to sit in the chair and then looks up with a puzzled brow staring at the chin on Lacey in silence. She leans down and slaps a kiss on Breck's lips, pulling with a smile, back stepping from the table and Breck.

Breck reaches down and whips the napkin out from his lap, slowly struggling to stand from the chair while staring at Lacey. She elegantly spins around in long gown and swiftly exits the ball room, without leaving behind a single fashion shoe.

He slowly stands upright from the chair and stares into the darkness of the ball room, where the overhead lamps are slightly dimmed inside the interior area, so each diner can enjoy the semi-romantic evening. He frowns at the set of familiar faces, sliding back down into the chair, staring down at his dessert dish.

Cinco slowly shuffles behind the back spine on A.J. through the crowded room and then stops, standing back in front of their assigned dining room chair beside his Grandmother Balegreen at the Balegreen donor table. Each male had escorted his girl behind the center stage to participate in the upcoming slave auction against their better judgment.

A.J. slides back down into his seat and then eats the dessert. Flamingo continues to sit and eats the dessert while scanning the audience of unfamiliar faces among the darkness of the room.

On top of the center stage, the auctioneer in the black tuxedo smiles into the microphone. "The first slave girl is pretty Miss Babbie," he turns and points at the teenage girl.

Babbie slowly peaks around a hanging curtain of dark hue and then slowly waddles on top of the floor, wearing a baby blue plantation gown, holding her hand over her face from the bright lights, searching for Cinco among the audience crowd.

At the Balegreen table, Cinco back steps from his chair and jumps up and down on top of the floor, waving both of arms in the air, wearing a smile.

Flamingo slowly stands upright from his chair and clearly sees Babbie on top of the stage also. "She can't see your handsome face, Cinco. The interior room is too dark. Sit your ass back down in that chair, so I can see all the lovely sex slave girls. I might wanna bid on a beauty myself for a quick sex act, of course," he leans over and touches on one of the sacks with real gold coins.

"Flamingo, sit your butt-hole back down in that chair, before I hickory-switch it with a pulled tree limb from that beautiful magnolia tree dropping petals down on our limo, boy." Iredell leans over the table and sneers at her troublesome grandson.

Flamingo surrenders his sexual attempt, but not his sexy smile, sitting back down in the chair.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer smiles into a mounted microphone while staring into the audience. "The first bid will begin at one hundred gold coins. Do I see a marker of one hundred gold coins for our lovely Miss Babbie?"

On top of the floor, Cinco continues to jump up and down on top of the floor and sweeping his hand over tablecloth and grabs the item, waves the tiny hand-held sign with the math number 813 for the eyeballs on the auctioneer.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Cinco and smiles down into the microphone. "I have one hundred gold coins. Do I see a bid for Miss Babbie at one hundred fifty gold coins? Then the sale of the slave girl is going once, twice..." He pauses. "I have a bid of two hundred gold coins. There is a second bid at two hundred gold coins for pretty Miss Babbie." Cinco spins around with a sneer and scouts the dark room for the asshole that bids on his girl Babbie.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer smiles and jolts down the marker number. "Then the sale of the slave girl is going once, twice for two hundred..."

Cinco spins back around with a gasp and yells out loud, waving his marker number 813 in the air. "I bid two hundred and fifty gold coins..."

"Three hundred gold coins," a voice shouts out loud.

Cinco stands in place and holds the white marker in the air, shouting out loud, staring at Babbie. "Three hundred and fifty..."

"Four hundred gold coins," the same voice shouts out loud within the audience.

Cinco curses with a fury, "Son of a fucking bitch!" He spins around with a snarl and scans the dark room trying to seek the asshole, who is bidding for his girl, so he can break the four front teeth, but can't identify the jerk.

Next, Cinco jerks off the white dinner jacket and drops the item down on the floor, ripping off the suffocating bowtie from his throat on top of the crumbled jacket. He spins around and shoves his chair back into the table edge, reaching out, grabbing one of the blue sacks that contain one thousand dollars of gold coins.

His Grandmother Balegreen had contributed the money as a donation for the charity event creating a set of numerous tiny, blue-colored, velveteen, palm-sized sack with true gold coins.

The slave auction requires gold coins to the auctioneer as the payment for the purchased slave girl. The buyer will receive a free date with his purchased slave girl tomorrow night on Sunday afternoon for a lunch meal. However, the purchased female is usually a devoted girlfriend or a loving wife during the family-fun charitable Slave Auction event which raises money for each sick child at the local Lacy Springs Hospital.

Cinco back steps from the table with a sour frown and then scoots sideways, strutting ahead towards the center stage, sounding with a loud sneer.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer cautiously watches with puzzlement an approaching Cinco and then back steps with immediate fearful feelings from the speaker podium.

On the floor, Cinco faces the stage platform that does not display a set of steps, so each slave girl cannot escape into the audience. He dashes ahead and then stops, rearing back, pitching the sack of gold coins through the air. The sack flies directly towards the auctioneer.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer ducks down on the floor out of target range. The flying sack of coins hits the side wall with accuracy then drops down on top of the floor, missing the head on the auctioneer.

Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and spins around facing the audience, shouting out loud with evil laughter. "The slave girl is sold for one thousand dollars, only to me, Cinco. She's my girl Babbie." He spins around and dashes ahead, leaping from the floor up in the air, slamming onto the edge on the elevated platform.

At the Balegreen table, Flamingo and Breck swiftly stand upright from their chairs, loudly clapping with a set of loud hoots and whistles for their brother Cinco along with the audience members.

The auctioneer slowly peaks his head above the speaker podium and then slowly stands upright from the floor, brushing off the dust, presenting a sour frown at the young teen-ass male.

The stage wall is four feet in height. Cinco kicks both of his legs and slowly climbs up the elevated platform, slamming his hand on top of the polished wood.

Babbie carefully turns to see the exposed arm and hand on Cinco, slowly waddling in his direction at the edge of the stage, wearing a smile.

On the stage wall, Cinco isn't fully visually to her eyeballs and as he shouts out loud. "Babbie, come here to me, baby! You're my girl!"

The audience of females claps while the males foot stomp and hoots of the fun entertainment.

On top of the stage, Cinco slowly stands upright from his climb, moves ahead, and stops, grabbing her naked arms, pulling her closer to his face. He gently kisses her lips for a few seconds. The audience members cheer and clap for the young couple. Cinco and Babbie emerge from their shared kiss and wear a goofy face at each other.

He bends down at his kneecaps, placing an arm around her waistline and his other hand on her fanny, where he cannot feel through the rows of ruffles around her ass. He pushes both of his arms and hands together, cupping his body around her waist and ass, gently lifting Babbie onto his collar bone. She faces the audience with a smile. He slowly spins around with Babbie on his collar bone and jabs his finger at the audience, shouting out loud with a sneer. "No one messes with my girl. Period!" He gently swings around to face the rear wall and slowly struts ahead with Babbie on his collar bone towards the side wall, disappearing around the hanging curtain.

The audience members continue to stand and sound with an array of claps, hoots, cheers, and whistles for Cinco and his girl Babbie.

At the Balegreen table, A.J. stands and smiles at Cinco, leaning over into the cheekbone on Breck. "Now, that's a homegrown redneck!" He continues to laugh and clap for Cinco.

Flamingo claps and cheers with delight for Cinco too, "Yeehaw!"

Robert Earl continues to sit at the table and hears the ping, looking down, reading the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. He stands upright from the chair and stares down at the tiny screen, saying with a stern face. "I have a message that I must address. Please, excuse me from the table."

"Really, Robert Earl! You have a message. Redstone Point must be under attack from more Yankee soldiers." Iredell continues to stand and claps for her grandson. Robert Earl turns and frowns at his wife, slowly back stepping from table in silence.

"What about our mama, Granddaddy?" Flamingo turns and frowns at the nose profile on Robert Earl.

Robert Earl spins around with a smile and views the audience. "I will return here, before the highlighted event, Flamingo." He slowly moves ahead and then quietly disappears into the coolness of the dark dining room.

Cinco appears and strolls down a different aisle, wearing with a smile and then stops, standing in front of his assigned chair without Babbie.

Breck continues to stand and turns with a puzzled brow to view his brother. "Cinco, why are you back here alone? Where's Babbie?"

Cinco pulls his chair from the table, sliding down in the seat, reaching out and grabs the dessert plate of pecan pie that belongs to Babbie. He stabs the fork down into the tender meat and sucks down the first bite, swallowing it whole and then smile. "She's going back home. Her parents did not enjoy the impromptu sideways silly slave auction show."

"Are you in trouble with your future in-laws, man?" Flamingo turns and frowns down at the blonde hair roots on Cinco.

Cinco spits out food particles over his plate and the yellow tablecloth, "Naw! Her parents greatly desired to avoid any embarrassing questions about me or her."

Flamingo smiles, "And what was our mother's reaction from her baby triplet?"

"Good point, Flamingo!" Iredell back steps from the chair and says with a smile. "I'm going to run along and check on Arie. Hold the fort down, boys!" She wipes the crumbs of food from her skirt and then spins around, moving through the tables, exiting the dining room also.

At the Balegreen table, Cinco continues to sit and eats the dessert. "Mama saw us. She laughed her ass off as I stomped through the closed curtains into her face. Then we, three met up with Babbie's parents for a permanent hand-off and her short ride back home."

"Damn!" A.J. back steps from his chair and stares down at the tiny screen on his personal mobile telephone. "I'm sorry for the interruption. I gotta take this important phone call," he looks up with a smile to see Flamingo. "But I'll come back. I promise."

Flamingo turns and gasps at A.J. "What about our mama? She's coming up next in the slave auction, A.J. You promised to bid on her soul, A.J."

A.J. nods with a smile. "I'll be back. Don't worry, Flamingo. I got this covered," he back steps from the table and then spins around, disappearing into the darkness of the room.

"Bro, you got both tacky style and good taste." Breck chuckles at Cinco.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "The next slave girl is the lovely Miss Violet. We shall start the bidding war at one hundred gold coins."

Flamingo looks up with a smile and lifts his marker sign above his hair roots which displays the math number 811 for the bid of one hundred dollars on childhood friend Violet.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles. "I have one hundred gold coins. Now, I have one hundred and fifty gold coins. Now, the bid is up to two hundred gold coins." Flamingo jerks the marker down from into his face and stares at the number, pondering if his marker math number somehow doubled the bidding amount. He hears the loud laughter and looks up to view Cinco.

Cinco continues to sit and points his fork while still laughing at Breck. Flamingo turns and gasps at Breck.

Breck stands upright on in front of his chair with a smile and holds his marker sign with number 815 in the air in silence.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Breck and smiles into the microphone. "I have a bid of two hundred gold coins."

Flamingo gasps in alarm and faces the stage, lifting and flicks his marker in the air for the next bid on Violet.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "I have a bid of two hundred and fifty gold coins."

"What are you doing, bro?" Breck frowns at Flamingo while flicking his marker in the air for the next money bid.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Breck and smiles down into the microphone. "I have three hundred gold coins."

Flamingo stands on the floor and flicks his marker at the auctioneer. "What in the fuck are you doing over there, Breck?"

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Three hundred and fifty gold coins."

Breck flicks his marker at the auctioneer. "It is obvious. I am bidding on Violet."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Breck and smiles down into the microphone. "Four hundred gold coins."

"Wait and then bid on your girl Lacey, when it is her turn on top of the stage!" Flamingo flicks the marker with a sour frown.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Four hundred and fifty gold coins."

Breck turns and smiles at Violet, flicking his maker in the air for the next money bid. "Lacey went home for the evening when her daddy called on her cell phone."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Breck and smiles down into the microphone. "Five hundred gold coins."

"So, you're cheating on Lacey by bidding on Violet. That makes no fucking sense, man!" Flamingo sneers and flicks his marker to the auctioneer.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Five hundred and fifty gold coins."

Breck flicks his marker to the auctioneer. "No one else is..."

"Six hundred gold coins."

On top of the floor, Flamingo stomps both boots in place and flicks his marker in the air to the auctioneer. "I'm bidding on Violet, you stupid redneck. Put your marker down, so I can win the sexy slave girl."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Six hundred and fifty gold coins."

Breck shakes his skull with a sour frown and flicks the marker in the air. "Naw! I want Violet."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Breck and smiles down into the microphone. "Seven hundred gold coins."

Flamingo gasps. "You want slave girl Violet. You just want hot sex from another one of Lacy Springs' fewest and hottest and sexiest virgins." He flicks the marker and shouts out loud. "I bid seven hundred and fifty gold coins."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Seven hundred and fifty gold coins."

On the floor, Breck flicks his marker and stares with a smile at Violet. "Yeah, boy! I want hot sex from that virgin. I get each teenly virgin. Don't you remember, bro? You get all the used and abused whores, Flamingo."

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees Flamingo and smiles down into the microphone. "Eight hundred gold coins."

"O no! You...are not getting a single sex act tonight. I get this hot and sexy virgin." Flamingo climbs up and stands on top of his dining room chair, waving his marker at the auctioneer, shouting out loud with a smile. "Eight hundred and fifty gold coins."

Breck gasps and then looks down at the hair roots on Cinco. "Cinco, what do you say about this situation?"

Cinco swallows the lump of food and looks up with a wink to see Breck. "Can I eat your pecan pie dessert, Breck?" He doesn't wait for an answer and stands upright from the chair, reaching over, stealing the dessert plate.

"What!" Breck sneers down at the hair roots on Cinco.

Cinco sits down and slices the pie, turning with a wink to see Flamingo. "Good luck, Flamingo! You should win the sexy virgin, since Brick Brain has Loser Lacey."

"Eight hundred and fifty gold coins is the finale bidding for Miss Violet," the auctioneer smiles down into the microphone.

On top of the floor at the Balegreen table, "What in the fuck did you say about my girl, boy?" Breck sneers down at Cinco.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the microphone. "Eight hundred and fifty gold coins, it is going once, twice..."

At the Balegreen table, Breck slams his marker down top of the hard surface and scoops up one of the sack of coins that contains one thousand dollars, shouting out loud. "One thousand gold coins for Miss Violet. Hey! I have a sack of one thousand gold coins for Miss Violet. Hey! Look at me! Listen to me!" He back steps from the table and then scoots around the table, jogging through the crowd, moving ahead toward the center stage.

At the Balegreen table, Flamingo slides down off the chair and then slams it into the table, yelling out loud at the back spine on Breck. "Fuck! Fuck you, my asshole brother of mine, Brick Brain." Flamingo doesn't care who hears his cursing, since his mother and his grandmother are not present to correct his teenly mischievous behavior.

A.J. appears and paces towards the table, clapping with a smile for Breck, stopping in front of his chair. "What is up with all of you, rednecks kidnapping each sexy female tonight?"

At the stage wall, Breck climbs up the wall and stands on top of the stage, grabbing and tosses Violet over his collar bone, like Cinco had done. The audience members stand and sound with an array of claps, sheers, hoots and whistles for the second young teenage couple. Breck exits the stage like Cinco and disappears behind the curtain.

At the Balegreen table, Cinco continues to sit and spits out chewed food particles, jabbing the fork at Breck. "Go and beat him up, Flamingo!"

Flamingo shakes his cropped skull with a sour frown. "No. I don't wanna do that in front of our mother. She has had too much excitement for the rest of the calendar year."

Cinco swallows the food and then grins. "Don't give her up, Flamingo! Violet is a real virgin at Lacy Springs High."

"I know that." Flamingo frowns.

"Where is Breck going with her?" A.J. stands and stares as Breck, who disappear through the hanging curtain with Violet.

Flamingo smirks at the stage. "I don't know, but I definitely will find that out. Then his spotless white dinner jacket will be covered in a set of scattered hot pink poker dots." He and Cinco chuckle with amusement. Flamingo back steps from the table and spins around with a sneer, moving ahead and exits the dining room.

Inside the lobby setting, Flamingo stops and stands in the middle of an empty lobby, searching for Breck and Violet. He doesn't have much time. Breck doesn't waste time fucking a virgin, because he likes to relive his current victory over and over, again, while retelling his evil demon tales inside Pig Pen.

"Breck!" A voice yells out loud and as the body stands a few feet behind the back spine on Flamingo.

Flamingo spins around with a smile and views his high school friends Yancy and Doyle. They strut in his direction and wear a black tinted tuxedo.

"Flamingo." Doyle stops with a smile and stands in front of Flamingo.

Yancy stops with a frown and stands in front of Flamingo. "Breck, where did you hide Violet? She was on top of your shoulder before."

"You had your chance and blew it, Yancy." Doyle laughs.

Yancy frowns, "Naw! Her daddy almost blew it on me with his shotgun, kissing my handsome face. Where is Violet hiding, Breck?"

Doyle rolls his eyeballs and then smiles at Flamingo. "He is Flamingo."

Yancy stares at Flamingo. "How do you know that he is Flamingo, Doyle?"

Doyle grins. "Because Breck was toting Violet over his shoulder and headed off the stage. Do you see Violet around here?"

"Aw, naw! Violet is only hiding from me." Yancy laughs.

Flamingo slaps his chest with a smile. "I'm Flamingo."

Yancy frowns. "You look like Breck with your new short haircut, Flamingo. Why did cut off all of your golden locks?"

Flamingo nods. "We're triplet siblings, Yancy. We, three brothers came from the same zygote."

Yancy frowns again. "Do you gots fleas or ticks, Flamingo? I didn't understand your statement." Flamingo chuckles at the silly teen male.

Doyle reaches over with a sour frown and grabs the arm on Yancy, back stepping from Flamingo, saying with a smile. "Bye, Flamingo! We'll see you Monday morning at school. Say 'hi' to Breck and Cinco for us. We're heading back home now, since all the pretty slave girls are gone which leaves only the old women for the auction block," he laughs with Flamingo. Yancy and Doyle spin around and exit the hotel lobby.

Flamingo stands in place and scans the lobby without seeing Breck, looking down at the floor while pondering the new situation.

The rented space inside the limousine will be close, private, and dark for a quickie teenly sex fuck with Violet. Flamingo would think and do the same thing as his triplet brother Breck.

Inside the lobby, Flamingo looks up with a smile and stares out the glass entrance doors, "Yeah, the limo!" He exits the lobby and races into the parking lot.

Outside within cool temperatures, he struts over the parking lot towards at the parked limousine, Flamingo discovers the vehicle with the driver, who is dressed in a traditional black suit with a silly cap over the bone skull. Flamingo stops and stands at the open window, leaning down with a smile into the nose profile on the driver, "Hey, buddy."

"Yeah." The driver continues to sit and reads his personal mobile telephone.

"Is the rear seat occupied yet?" Flamingo smiles. A teen couple likes to fuck inside the rear bench seats while the driver rides the couple around the metro city of Huntsville.

The driver looks up and winks at Flamingo, "Naw, man. The rear seat is empty for the moment. Do you get a little filly that needs milking?" He laughs.

Flamingo nods with a grin. "Not now, maybe later in the evening! Thanks, buddy!" He accepts the secret invitation and back steps from the open window, spinning around, moving back towards the hotel lobby. He turns and scans the landscape.

Breck would not fuck in the bushes or near the grove of trees or on the patio as the place is too public with the eyes of the public.

Flamingo halts in front of the glass entrance doors and looks up with a smile, viewing the levels of room windows. "Yeah, the hotel," he enters the lobby again.

Inside the hotel lobby at the registration desk, Flamingo parks his body at the registration desk and smiles at the ugly girl, who is an adult, "Hi there, sweetheart!" His bank account contains enough money to pay for a hotel room at the Lacy Springs Hotel, where Breck has done without any doubt and any clue from his precious mother.

She looks up and smiles at Flamingo, "Sir."

Flamingo nods. "Do you remember me, honey?"

She nods. "Yes sir!"

His twisted guts are always right and as he grins. "I have already lost my hotel key, sweetheart. I'm a sorry, stupid redneck."

She looks down and taps on the keyboard. "What is your name, sir? I need to confirm your number room."

Flamingo grins. "My name is Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the third. That would be with three Roman numbers, after the proper name."

She smiles down at the computer screen. "Yes sir! I see your name. I have verified your person. And I have created you a duplicated hotel key." She presents two plastic cards representing the hotel room, handing them for Flamingo.

Flamingo accepts the two new keys for his spying treat. "You're so sweet, precious."

She winks at him. "I get off work around one in the morning, Mr. Balegreen."

"I'll remember that fact, Miss Patricia." Flamingo holds the key and her hand way to long, winking at her and then releases her hand. He spins around with a grin and moves ahead towards the closed elevator door. The flirting action and the older clerk is not an acceptable date as he is a minor to her maturity.

He stops and stands in front of the elevator, pressing the button, cussing at Breck. Flamingo tries to decide to beat Breck first or tie up his naked ass with a set of ripped shreds from his long-sleeved dress shirt. Then Flamingo will fuck virgin Violet in front of Breck pondering the enjoyable idea.

The elevator carriage sounds with a low ding and then opens the door without another heated body.

Flamingo enters the carriage and spins around, reaching out, pressing the button for the seventh level hotel room. The elevator carriage is very quiet and efficient, carrying Flamingo up the proper floor level.

He exits the carriage, struts down the hallway searching for room number 714, and stops with a smile. He stands in front of the closed hotel door and inserts the new hotel key into the vetted slot.

The hotel door cracks open in silence.

At 11:01 pm, in front of hotel room number 714, Flamingo exhales with worry and hopes not to see what his mind is imaging with his two eyeballs.

He slowly steps into the luxury room and stops beside the closed bathroom door.

In front of the neatly made bed mattress, Violet stands upright and wiggles side to side, playing with the zipper on the rear of her baby blue-tinted ankle-length gown. Breck is absent from the interior of the private hotel room.

Flamingo stands and hears a loud noise coming from the closed door on the bathroom setting, where Breck is undressing for the special occasion. Flamingo moves ahead and stops, standing behind her ass, whispering with a stern face into her eardrum. "Violet," He reaches out and zips the dress back up to her neckline.

She shivers from his warm hands and then spins around with a smile, "Breck!" She looks at the closed bathroom door and then views Flamingo, "Flamingo! I mean, Breck," she frowns at Flamingo.

He smiles with a nod, "Flamingo."

She gasps. "Wow! Both of you look alike when you wear the same type of clothing. Since you quit wearing that nasty baseball cap and have re-shaped your haircut to look like Breck's."

Flamingo nods. "Thanks. Violet, please, don't do this thing."

"Why not?" She frowns.

He smiles, "Because I nicely ask you not too."

She gasps and then nods with a smile. "That, that's the nicest thing any guy has ever said to me."

"You're a nice girl, Violet You should insist upon a nice guy to say lots of nice things to you and does lots of nice things for you, darling."

"Thank you, Flamingo."

"You're welcome, sweetheart." He back steps from Violet with a nod and stops, standing beside the closed bathroom door, knocking on the metal frame and talks to the closed door. "Plant your pants back on your naked ass, Breck! Our mother is up next for her slave auction show. Get moving right now!"

" _Flamingo!"_ Breck yells out loud from behind the door.

Flamingo whispers for his eardrums only and stares with a smile at sexy Violet. "Yeah, Flamingo is here for the rescue." He turns and frowns at the closed door. "Get dressed! Get downstairs! Before, I send Cinco up here to beat your ass black and blue. Because, I don't want a set of bright red spots on my new white dinner jacket." He reaches down and brushes lint off his jacket, laughing out loud with a smile.

Breck cusses through the bathroom door as he is defiantly whole in nakedness or partly nude in his birthday suit.

Flamingo moves ahead with a smile towards Violet, reaching out, grabbing her arm. He spins them around and exits from the hotel room, slowly moving down the lighted hallway toward the elevator carriage in silence.

Inside the closed bathroom door, Breck continues to stay inside the room, cusses out loud, and re-dresses inside the paid hotel room without any fucking sex action.

Inside the empty and quiet hallway, Flamingo and Violet slowly move ahead towards the elevator archway in silence.

Her mobile telephone plays a popular country song. She halts with a gasp. "My mama!" Violet whips out her phone and swishes the screen while yelling into the receiver, before it hits her earlobe. "Mama!"

She listens to the voice on the other end of her mobile telephone with worry.

"No, ma'am!" Violet looks down at her fashion sandals and wiggles her toes "I'm not sick, Mama. I just found a better clean-looking bathroom which was away from the banquet room. That's all."

Pause.

"Yes ma'am. I'm walking towards the hotel lobby right now, since you and daddy are ready to go back home. I'll see you shortly. Bye, Mama!" She pockets the mobile telephone back into her small handbag with a loud groan, looking at Flamingo. "Ugh! Thanks for the save, Flamingo!" She rushes towards the elevator doors. "That was my parents."

Flamingo races ahead of Violet and slams his body into the closed elevator door, pressing the button, back stepping with a chuckle and stands in place. He places both hands down into each trouser pocket while feeling shy around a sexy, innocent virgin.

Violet slowly waddles ahead towards the elevator door in her long ball gown and then stops beside Flamingo, staring down at the floor with worry.

His female dates consist of known whores that enjoy playing at the river bank on Friday night or around the church picnic tables on Saturday afternoon.

He is a senior student at Lacy High School and will graduate next May. He will attend college for his academic advancement in becoming a medical physician and then return home living the rest of his days and night within the small cow town of Lacy Springs. He ponders his life and decides Cinco is the smartest one among the triplet brothers.

Cinco will go to college, become a farm veterinarian, and then marry his high school sweetheart. They will have a baby and live happily there at Balegreen Cow Ranch.

On the seventh floor in front of the elevator doors, Flamingo ponders the same day dream and studies the nose profile on Violet in the reflection mirror on the wall. "They say love is deaf, dumb, and blind for making a dummier redneck..."

"A dummier southern belle..." Violet frowns at the mirrored image of herself on the entrance wall.

The elevator carriage dings. The doors slide open.

They enter the carriage and spin around standing together, looking at the mirrored walls which reflects a handsome young couple of Alabama rednecks.

Flamingo stares at the mirror with a stern face. "Looky, Violet! If you really do like Breck, then make him buy you a four-point caret diamond ring and build you a four-bedroom house. Then, you can marry him for love and fun."

She turns and smiles at the nose profile on Flamingo. "Are you going to do for your bride-to-be, Flamingo?"

He nods to the mirror, "When I find my bride-to-be, yeah, that and much, much more."

The elevator carriage dings. The doors slide open.

The young redneck couple steps out onto the white speckled marble floor inside the lobby.

Inside the lobby setting, Flamingo grabs her naked arm and spins Violet around to face his smile, planting his hands over her tiny waistline, peering down at her lovely set of manicured fingernails which is polished in a baby blue hue matches her ball gown. He inhales and smells a sweet odor of honeysuckles floating from her auburn hair and her pink skin, looking up and smiles at her pretty violet colored eyeballs.

Violet gasps. "My parents, they saw Breck and me on top of the stage during the silly slave auction. My mother made me do this thing helping to raise money for the sick children. They might assume that you're Breck. You are not, but you look alike."

"That's a very good point, sweetheart." Flamingo nods with a smile. "When's your birthday, Violet?"

She back steps from his chest and sways her dress, saying with a smile. "I was born in the month of September."

"Do you have a birthday party coming up then? Are you going to be seventeen years old like me, darling?" He does not know that shared information as he and she do not socialize within the same circle of classes or classmates.

She winks with a smile. "Will you come to my birthday party, Flamingo?"

"I would love it, if I could come to your fun birthday party, Violet." He winks at her.

She leans over and kisses his lips, closing her eyelashes, enjoying his taste for a few seconds. He leaves his eyelids up and then stares into her pretty face. She pulls back with a wink and a giggle. "That's my boy!" Violet back steps from Flamingo and spins around, moving ahead towards the glass entrance doors. Her parents are there waiting on top of the vanilla-colored walkway for their limousine ride back home. She shouts out loud with a giggle. "I gotta go, cowboy. But I'll be seeing you around the school, Flamingo."

"Yes, you will." He back steps into the side wall, watching her exit into the darkness of the night, without her parents but seeing his face in the glass door, which is like Breck's.

Violet is born in the month of September making her astrological sign, a Virgo. Flamingo has studied and memorized the love symptoms of Breck's astrological sign, an Aries.

Flamingo recalls that an Aries is bold like a forest fire while a Virgo is shy like a rose petal, making Breck and Violet's promised social relationship a major problem both mentally and physically.

A wild fire always kills the beautiful wild roses within the lush, thick woodlands.

The celestial stars of Breck and Violet will spark hot and then burn down into the red clay.

Flamingo steps out from the shadows and views the rolling limousine that disappears into the night.

Flamingo and Cinco are born under a different zodiac astrological sign of Taurus which is different from Breck, who had been scooped out from the womb of their mother at 12:05 am. Then at 12:09 a.m., respectively, on the next new day, second triplet Flamingo had emerged. At 12:11 a.m., baby triplet Cinco had been delivered inside the hospital room.

Taurus people enjoy tactile physical contact of tender and sensual body touches along with a comfort zone of fake or real pleasing, soothing objects.

Virgo is the sexiest sign within all the twelve zodiacs. It is the only zodiac sign that is represented by a female, who is a virgin.

Flamingo stands in place in front of the glass doors and chuckles at greeting and meeting a real sexy virgin that lives in Lacy Springs, Alabama.

A Virgo female is quite sexual and loves to please her male over and over, again, but she is not a whore, like Breck assumes.

A Virgo plants their naked toes, or in this case, her cowgirl boots deep into the red clay soil, grounding both her mental thoughts and physical actions. Other people seek out her wise advice, because of her basic sensibility which works both her eyes and neurons with the "seeing is believing" concept for a Virgo. A Virgo adapts easily to change and tends to be organized, intelligent, and helpful which is rightfully nicknamed, a healer.

So, the mythical healer (Violet) is wooed by the magnificent lover (Flamingo).

In front of the glass entrance doors, Flamingo lusts inside his brain while finding him and Violet compatible both on a physical and mental level. And the combination of a Taurus and a Virgo relationship provides duty, sensible, practical, strength, warm, and everlasting happiness.

Flamingo recalls from his astrological studies. A Virgo and Taurus couple begin as a pair of good friends. That had happened last week. Then the paired couple will blossom into an old-fashioned romance. This will happen next week. Finally, the couple will experience a potent sexual relationship, which will happen the night of her birthday party.

Both of their individual astrological stars are based on the earth sign, which is a person who instinctively understands one another and enjoys the coupling of love, an old-fashioned tradition with a touch of common sense.

Flamingo whispers to his eardrums only. "Thank you, Brother Jesus. I have found my bride-to-be with your help, of course." He swings around with a smile and slowly struts back into the banquet room with his new secret girlfriend.

At 11:37 pm, inside the banquet room, at the Balegreen donor table, Flamingo moves ahead, stops, and scoots back down into his assigned chair at the table. Breck leans over and growls at the nose profile on Flamingo.

Cinco has changed his seat position and now sits between his two brothers for the safety and protection of each brother. He has learned the truth of Violet's rescue and as the other table guests including Iredell and A.J. enjoys a cup of coffee or a tumbler of alcohol without knowing the secret among the triplet brothers.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer continues the slave auction and smiles down into the mounted microphone. "The next slave girl is Miss Arie. We shall start the bidding at one hundred gold coins."

"Hundred." A.J. stands upright from the chair with a smile and flicks his marker sign in the air.

On top of the stage, the auctioneer sees A.J. and smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have one hundred gold coins for our lovely Miss Arie. Do I see one and fifty hundred gold coins? Excellent! I see a bid marker for one and fifty hundred gold coins for Miss Arie."

At the Balegreen table, Breck swiftly stands upright from the chair and spins around with a sneer, scanning the semi-dark room. Flamingo and Cinco copy-cat his body movement.

The triplet brothers search and seek out the mysterious bidder.

Flamingo scoots sideways from the table with a sneer and slams his chair into the wooden edge still scanning the audience members

Robert Earl continues to sit and sips the coffee. "Stay right here, Flamingo! It is a little competitive fun. Arie will appreciate the bold compliment. Sit back down, Flamingo! Before, you end up embarrassing your mother."

"Naw," Flamingo moves ahead and stops beside Breck. Cinco steps sideways and stands on the other side on Breck.

Breck continues to stand and scans the room for the jack-hole, leaning into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "You take the right side, Flamingo. I got the center tables. Cinco, you go to the left. Bang each chair and annoy each guest as you rudely stomp on each toenail until that asshole moves towards the center, to me. Then we, three go and squeeze the bastard into the middle, dragging his ass out the ball room using one of the side doors and then we beat the shit out of his face and his body for thinking he can bid on our mama."

A.J. swiftly scoots away from his chair with a gasp and stops with a worried brow, standing beside Flamingo. Breck always leads the triplet brothers. He leans over and frowns at Breck, "Breck, no! Do not leave the banquet room! Stay right here! You're going to waste your teenly time and your sour breath. The banquet room is too dimmed lighted for a visual identification of an unknown enemy. It is almost completely darkness between each table, except for the well-lighted stage. Let me finish and win the bidding first. Then, ya'll can track down that shit ass."

"Then I'll be too late to beat and bleed the shit ass, A.J." Cinco continues to stand and sneers into the dark room of tables with attendees.

Breck continues to stand with his two brothers and scans the darkness of the room also, "Ya betta make damn shore you win that bid process with our mother, A.J. Do you hear me, boy!" He moves ahead and slams his tallness into the first table while seeking for the asshole that tries to buy his mother.

Cinco veers to the left in the room. Flamingo veers to the right side within the banquet room.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have a bid of one hundred and fifty gold coins. Do I see a bid for two hundred gold coins?

A.J. spins around with a worried brow and lifts his marker to the auctioneer, in silence, moving back to the Balegreen table.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have a bid for two hundred gold coins."

"I bid four hundred gold pieces." A voice echoes through the banquet room without a marker.

A.J. stops in front of his chair and flicks his marker in the air for the auctioneer in silence.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have a bid for four hundred and fifty gold coins. Did I receive a bid for five hundred gold coins?"

"I bid seven hundred gold coins." The same voice echoes through the room without showing a maker for easy identification.

Each triplet brother slams his boot toe into each table leg and leans over each empty plate of food, searching for the unknown asshole, who is shouting out bids in the air for Arie.

A.J. flicks the marker in the air to the auctioneer in silence, so the triplets can find, locate, remove and then beat the shit out of that loud voice coming from the mysterious bidder for Arie.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have a bid for seven hundred and fifty gold coins. Did I receive a bid for eight hundred gold coins?"

"Nine hundred gold coins." A.J. flicks the marker and yells out loud to end the bidding process. He hopes the shit ass doesn't possess enough money to purchase Arie as his slave girl.

"One thousand gold coins," the same voice echoes throughout the room without showing a marker.

The triplets meet in the far wall corner and huddle near the entrance doors without finding the asshole.

Cinco leans over and growls into the cheekbone on Breck while scanning the room. "Shit! A.J. is right. I can't see a damn thing in here. The stage lights act like a flashlight beam shining into my naked eyeballs."

At the Balegreen table, A.J. continues to stand and flicks the marker for the bid on Arie, yelling out loud. "Two thousand gold coins for Miss Arie!"

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "I have a bid for two thousand gold coins for the lovely Miss Arie. Do I hear or see a marker for three thousand gold coins? The finale bid of two thousand gold coins for Miss Arie is going once, twice, and sold for two thousand gold coins. Please, present your pirate booty to the nice cashier inside the lobby foyer."

The audience members softly clap for Arie. She slowly spins around in her pink ruffled plantation dress and exits the stage, giggling at the fun entertainment.

At the Balegreen table, A.J. watches Arie disappear and then leans over, grabbing two of the sack of coins, back steeping from the table, spinning around and exits the banquet room.

On top of the same stage, the auctioneer smiles down into the mounted microphone. "Our next lovely slave girl is Miss..."

On the side wall near the last set of entrance doors, Flamingo stands beside Breck and scans the room with a growl. "Who brought our mama?"

Four tall males in a matching black colored tuxedo pull up behind and then surround the triplet brothers. The male behind Cinco pushes a cold barrel into the rib cage on Cinco, reaching out, grabbing the arm on Cinco in silence.

Cinco gasps in shock and then sneers into the audience without seeing his stalker. "Hey, man! Breck!"

Breck feels a cold gun barrel massage his rib cage and exhales with worry, staring out into the audience. "Stay cool, bro!"

The next tall male stands behind Breck and leans down, whispering into the eardrum on Breck. "Move! Each one of you move ahead and then towards the last set of entrance doors now!"

Breck slowly moves ahead with a sneer and leads his two brothers toward the entrance door with the stalker behind his back spine.

A third tall male stands behind Flamingo and presses his cold barrel into the rib cage on the teen without a spoken word. Flamingo does not need the vocal instruction. Breck slowly moves ahead and veers towards the entrance doors. Flamingo swiftly moves ahead from the side wall and then halts with laughter trying to twist around for the death kill on the stalker.

The male reaches out and grabs the arm on Flamingo, shoving the cold barrel deeper into the rib cage on Flamingo, sneering into the eardrum on Flamingo. "Don't, sonny! Just move slowly and silently out the door and away from the banquet room." Flamingo swiftly moves ahead with a string of soft curse words.

Breck exits through the doors first. Cinco follows behind Breck next. Flamingo moves through the open door and then blinks both of his eyelids, coming from the bright light inside the lobby room while his eyeballs adjust to the new sight.

Inside the hotel lobby setting, the familiar male stands in the middle of the lobby room, twirling the auction marker with a pair of nervous hands. A.J. is surrounded by six other tall males that wear a matching black tinted tuxedo. He lifts the marker with a stern face and motions to the triplets, beginning to twirl the marker in a pair of nervous hands again. "Boys!"

Flamingo stops and stands with a sour frown in front of A.J. leaning down, spitting his mouth salvia down at the boot toes on A.J. He looks up and sneers at each unknown and tall male. "Is this your invited company to the gala, Dr. Bibb?"

Four males in a matching black colored tuxedo guard a white-tinted jacket tail on each brother preventing the teens from escaping the hotel lobby or fighting inside the lobby setting.

"Arie." A.J. exhales with worry and stares at each teen.

Cinco gasps in shock. "What about our mama?"

"Where is my mother, Dr. Bibb?" Breck sneer down at shorter A.J.

A.J. tilts his skull towards the entrance wall at the glass doors. "Go and get into the limo, boys." The triplets do not move from the oral command.

"Where are our Grandmother and Granddaddy Balegreen?" Flamingo turns and scans the busy lobby space without seeing his other family relatives. Numerous individuals and couples are streaming out from the banquet room and exit the lobby, moving to their personal vehicle and heading back home for the evening.

Inside the middle of the lobby floor and surrounded by an army of tall unknown males, A.J. exhales with worry. The triplet brothers are too big and too popular with the loyal citizens here within small town Lacy Springs. The three brothers could cause a fist fight, where A.J. can't win. Then, the three brothers would flee the hotel, in which, A.J. can't allow.

He leans over and frowns at each teen. "After the bidding war on your mother Arie, your grandparents spoke their good-bye to me. I led them into the lobby and then watched them enter their rented limousine. The current time is almost midnight. The auction is the last item of fun for the night. Then it ends. Everyone goes home. Arie has been kidnapped, boys. I paid the two sacks of gold coins to the cashier here inside the lobby immediately after the show. Now, I have been waiting here for her person. She has not shown up. She is not here. She is missing."

"Darrel!" Cinco sneers with a set of gritted teeth.

"Diarrhea!" Breck growls and flexes his two fists, sounding with fury.

"Son of a fucking bitch." Flamingo looks down at his shiny boots and ponders which weapon to grab from the gun safe inside the den room.

A.J. nods to each face. "You are correct on all accounts, boys. Get into the limo. We can talk in private in there."

The unknown tall males spin around at the same time and exit the hotel in pairs while darting a pair of eyeballs side to side, looking for trouble. Each one turns and moves ahead towards the second limousine that A.J. had rented for the charity ball.

Inside the lobby, Breck turns with a sour frown and leads his two brothers through the glass doors, exiting the hotel, viewing the rented limousine.

Outside, in front of the hotel veranda, the rear limousine door is open.

A.J., Cinco, Breck, and Flamingo slide down into the rear bench seat. One of the tall unknown males closes the door and continues to stand guard like he is watching for trouble.

A second unknown male in a chauffeur's uniform sits in the driver's seat and slowly drives the limousine away from the hotel building.

Inside the rear bench seat, Breck scoots towards the opposite door and window. Flamingo slides and sits beside Breck. Cinco slide next to Flamingo.

A.J. occupies the opposite bench seat and reaches down on the floor, releasing a hidden button on the bottom of the set. The floor panel slides open. He lifts a folding table up from the slot and then expands the item over each pair of kneecaps. He pulls out a paper map and then stretches the paper across the metal table, wearing a stern face.

On the opposite side, Flamingo sits beside Breck and sneers at A.J. "What is your interest in our mother, Dr. Bibb?"

A.J. unfolds the map and presses the edges into shape. "My interest is both personal and professional. That's all I can say for the moment."

Breck stares with a sneer down at the black tinted hair roots on A.J. "You work for our Granddaddy Balegreen."

Cinco stares with a sneer down at the same black tinted hair roots on A.J. "And you dissed our Granddaddy Balegreen."

A.J. looks up with a smile to see each teen. "Yes, I did. I can't hide the fact that his work at Redstone Point is both silly and stupid. But I do respect the man. Darrel is a different zebra with a set of horizontal pink and purple stripes. He serves as a current army officer. So, he owns a small house there on Redstone Point military base with the other military families. I suspect that your mother Arie is being kept there."

Flamingo nods. "Then, we go and pay a great big money ransom. Our mother has lots of money for that purpose."

A.J. frowns. "Darrel wants more than a money ransom. He wants all the money. My understanding, your mother is very, very, very rich. Diarrhea wants it all, not a sliver of the pecan pie, but the entire pie."

"Well, shit!" Flamingo turns and frowns at Cinco.

"Well, shoot!" Cinco turns and frowns at Breck.

"Well, hell!" Breck turns and frowns at Flamingo.

A.J. frowns. "Look! Darrel can leave the USA and then go abroad to Europe or Asia with Arie. She can't be found by any of the US Federal Government spies."

Breck slaps his chest. "Then she'll be found by her three gutsy sons. That's no problem, A.J. We got both money and guns."

"Our mama won't give him the money for any reason." Cinco nods with a smile.

A.J. exhales with worry. "So, Arie takes his fist and body beatings on her precious body." Each teen gasps in alarm and then growls with worry at A.J.

Flamingo nods. "Our mother will not leave the States with him."

A.J. nods. "Arie wants to live. She wants to come back to ya'll. She will do anything he wants. However, she has both faith and hope in her three sons that you will come and get her outta of the rented warehouse which is located right here. I will go and stall Darrel there at his small house..."

"Naw." Cinco frowns. "We come with you for the frontal fight and then assault on him and his small house."

"Wait! I thought Darrel owned a house here in the town of Lacy Springs. Our mama had purchased that house with her money, running Darrel out of town." Breck nods.

A.J. taps on the map with a stern face. "Look! That was part of his cover, in which, I will clarify to everyone, after Arie is safe and sound."

"Shut it, Breck! Explain the plan, A.J." Flamingo looks down and studies the map while memorizing the river bank and forest landscape with his smart neurons.

A.J. nods. "Each one of you are smart, tough, and big boned, but I'm the brains here."

"You seem like a chicken shit, Dr. Bibb." Flamingo looks up and smiles at A.J.

A.J. nods with a smile. "Thanks for that lovely compliment, Flamingo. And I am. And after this rescue, I promise to you and Almighty God to enlighten each one of you about this special event. Now, you cross here at Indian Creek."

Cinco exhales with worry. "Snakes."

"Cinco hates snakes." Flamingo laughs.

"You can float a boat from here on your land property and cross the shallow fresh water over there onto the Redstone Point land property. I promise there will be no guard sentries or vicious guard dogs or bobbed wired fence posts, only groves of thick wilderness and..."

"Snakes." Cinco frowns down at the map.

"Cinco doesn't like snakes." Flamingo laughs down at the map.

"If we are caught and captured, then we will be tormented along with our mama." Breck frowns down at the map.

A.J. points down at the paper map with a smile. "Ah! The beauty is, this section of the Tennessee River offers wade fishing which is free of charge to the public citizens here in Alabama. The entire river bank and all the side bar creek streams are declared navigable waters. That means the stream water flowing through Indian Creek is owned by the great State of Alabama, not US Federal Government..."

"And the stream water does not belong to the Redstone Point military police either." Flamingo nods.

"Which will also make each one of you safe from Darrel," A.J. smiles.

"Which will not make us safe from the Redstone Point military police," Breck frowns.

A.J. nods. "The water access can be legally obtained by driving a truck or riding a horse over any county dirt road or any bridge passage where the bridge or dirt road has the right-of-way for crossing the creek, which is owned by Morgan County."

"This stream offers spotted bass, largemouth bass, rock bass, bluegill, channel catfish, and bullheads for any fish-loving sports guy using a short fly rod." Breck nods.

A.J. nods. "And a canoe of three smart-ass teens can float straight across the water and land directly onto the Redstone property line without looking suspicious to any of the local military police officers."

"What is a canoe of three smart-ass teens doing out from their bed at dusk in the middle of a five-foot stream of fresh water, Mr. MP, sir?" Flamingo frowns.

Breck laughs. "We are gathering fresh snails to bait our fish hooks, bro."

A.J. smiles. "Breck is correct. By law, you cannot stock or release mussel, snail, or crayfish into the fresh water creek down into the public waterways here in Alabama. Sometimes, the greedy merchant will try to attract a novice or experienced fisherman there for bait food to fish. This law is written under the jurisdiction of the Division of Wildlife and Freshwater Fisheries as provided in Rule 220-2-42, except without written permission of a US Federal Government employee. Since you can't stock the creek water, you will be free to clear and clean it pretending to be fishermen, instead of cowboys this time at tomorrow evening, right before dusk. The Redstone Point military soldiers can do nothing to fine a monetary penalty or harm your teenly body. Now, is your fishing license currently updated?"

Cinco smiles, "Each one of us possesses a lifetime license to fish in any pond of fresh water here within the great State of Alabama, including all the Wildlife Heritage privileges."

Breck smiles, "A Bama resident can fish directly from the river bank in their county of residence with a hook and line of live bait without purchasing a license. This qualifies us, also, as well."

A.J. smiles, "Yes, you are correct about that fishing matter, Breck. However, let us not take any additional risk or chance of bad luck for tomorrow. Okay!" Each brother nods in silence to A.J. with the understanding of Arie's life.

The limousine slows the speed and then rolls into a halt in front of a new building with numerous floors.

Flamingo turns and stares out the side glass window with puzzlement. "Where are we located at, A.J.?"

The driver slides out from the seat and opens the rear door like a paid chauffeur, nodding to A.J. that the street is clear.

"Follow me out from the limousine, boys!" A.J. scoots sideways and slides out first from the open door, swiftly moving ahead and as each eyeball darts side to side looking for trouble. He swiftly enters the hotel lobby.

A huddle of tall males, in a pair of blue jeans and a colorful tee shirt, stands around the nice living room setting inside the new lobby at the new hotel building.

A.J. moves ahead and lifts his hand in the air. One of the tall males slips a hotel key into the cupped hand on A.J. and nods in silence. A.J. continues to lead the triplet brothers towards the closed elevator doors, stops, and stands in front of the door, pressing the button for the penthouse suite.

His team of unknown males has already checked their leader A.J. and his three guests into the hotel room under a new name for security reason.

The night is late. The elevator doors slide open. The carriage is empty of guest.

A.J. moves ahead and spins around, wearing with a stern brow facing his team of devoted employees.

The triplet brothers move ahead and spin around also, staring with puzzlement and worry at the team of unknown males, which is paid by A.J. Each active teenly mind is crowded with numerous questions.

The elevator door closes shut. The carriage soars up towards the top of the building.

A.J. stares at the closed elevator door and exhales with worry. "This is the Huntsville Hotel. We're sleeping here for the night. I'm afraid that each one of you is a liability to your mother. Darrel is looking for each one of your asses too. Arie would be much more cooperative, if one or all three of you are captured by Darrel. I have rented the entire floor of a fine luxury suite. We each got our own bedroom." He exhales with worry. "I cannot tell you much more. The plan for each one of you to hide out and stay low. I have a group of paid farm hands there at Balegreen Cow Ranch, who work for me and work the plot too. So, try to relax and get some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a real work day. I'm pooped, boys. It's bedtime. I need my rest as an old man. I would suggest that each one of you stop thinking and go to bed also. Dawn comes early here in Alabama."

Flamingo sits beside Breck and Cinco and stares at the elevator door while worrying about his mother Arie. "This plot sounds like a Hollywood production movie film, instead of a simply money scheme."

A.J. stares at the elevator doors with a stern face. "Yes, this plot has been plotted for a long, long time, Flamingo. And yes, you and Almighty God will learn the reasons and the resources of why, who, where, when, and how much. But that will be much later, after Arie is sound and safe."

The elevator carriage stops. The door opens.

A.J. leads ahead with a tired face and a worried heart, taking the first bedroom on the side wall, closing the door for some sleep.

The penthouse suite exhibits a square-shape and is decorated in the colors of teal, orange and gray. Two sets of living room furniture surround the main floor with a gigantic television plasma screen in-between a row of glass windows. The set curtains are drawn open and expose the full moon and the sky of bright stars.

Each brother slowly moves ahead and then stops, standing a few feet inside the room, scanning the room in silence.

Breck exhales with worry and turns to see his two brothers. "I don't feel like sleeping as I am worried about our mama. However, old man A.J. is right. I can't rescue her, if I'm standing upright and snoring from sleep exhaustion. I'm going to bed to pray to Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all my heavenly angels for help while trying to rest, if I am not able to sleep."

Cinco exhales with worry. "Yeah, I'm thinking the same thing, Breck."

Flamingo nods with a worried brow to each brother. "We are triplets. We feel the same damn good and bad emotions. We got up bright and early at four am. The sun raises up at six o'clock. Good night, my brothers!" He leans over and performs a high-five slap, a fist bump, and then a hand slide, nodding in silence to each brother.

Each brother spins around, separates, and enters an individual bedroom with worry, closing the door with hope.
Sunday September 28th

07:07 am

Bright sunlight and warm temperatures

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Indian Creek waterway setting

Cinco slides his motorcycle to a halt over the wet grass flipping open the visor on his helmet, breathing in the morning humid air and looks back over his collar bone.

A dull, rusty brown-tinted, jacked up, ancient long station wagon vehicle busts through a thicket of overlapping tree limbs, scattering the green limbs, brown branches, and the green leaves like a tornado within the calm winds in Alabama.

A white-tinted, jacked-up pickup truck slowly rolls through the new roadway pathway bouncing into the shallow mud puddles instead of each deep nasty water hole underneath each tree top on the farm property, which is owned by Arie Balegreen.

Each vehicle follows the motorcycle like a mudder race and not for fun ride.

Flamingo drives the station wagon clearing the roadway from intertwining low-lying flowering vines, overhanging tree limbs, and tall clumps of dirt statues that will impede the escape route from the river back towards their farm house.

Breck steers the truck safely through the new opening heading towards Indian Creek.

Cinco stares into the thick grove of trees and reaches down, pulling the hand gun from the saddle pocket, aiming at the object. He fires the single shot and kills the snake on the tree limb, watching his prey lounge across the tree limb in dead.

Flamingo slams the brake pads that sound with a set of tiny squeaks and flings open the rusty door with a heavy groan, moving ahead with a sneer and trots towards Cinco. He stops and reaches up, grabbing the dead snake from the tree limb with a practiced hand, flinging it into the woods and yells down at the motorcycle helmet. "What in the hell are you doing, Cinco? You're signaling to Darrel and his monkeys our new location, man."

"I hate snakes." Cinco stares down at the dead reptile.

Flamingo slams his hand down into the motorcycle helmet on Cinco, growling with a sneer. "You're a wussie baby, Cinco. If we were not on a rescue mission to rescue our mother, then I'd beat your ass..."

"Bro!" Breck appears and slaps the collar bone on each brother, saying with a smile. "We're both hunters and fishermen today having some redneck fun. Get back into your station wagon and reverse gear and clear out the other hanging tree limbs. I can't get the truck through the limbs, Flamingo. I wanna clear pathway when Darrel is chasing our butt-holes back home."

Flamingo sidesteps from Breck with a sour frown and spins around, sounding with a string of curse words back towards the station wagon.

Beside Cinco, Breck looks ahead and scouts the new geographical direction, saying with a smile. "This new pathway looks clear and good to me, now, bro. Are you ready to lead, Cinco?"

"Yeah!" Cinco hostlers the gun and slams the visor over the helmet shield and then guns the hand grip on the handle bar, dropping the pedal down into first gear, steering ahead towards the river bank and away from Breck.

Flamingo reverses the station wagon and breaks down more of the hanging tree limbs for Breck, slamming the gear into drive, slowly steering ahead and continues to clear the road pathway for the important escape.

Breck jogs back and enters his truck, slowly moving ahead, testing the new roadway. He does not want any type of stationary obstacle to impede their escape with their mother Arie from an evil Darrel.

At the Tennessee River bank, the pale blue skyline is hidden by thick groves of tall shade trees. The river water flows in dark greenish-black hue hiding numerous aquatic life forms underneath the murky placid waves. The landscape is painted in gleaming red tint and wet from the sloshing waves of the river water.

Cinco stops fifty feet behind a row of green tinted bushes with ripping fruit bushes that hides some of the river bank and smells the fresh scent through his helmet. He swings off the motorcycle and spins around without removing the helmet.

Flamingo speeds ahead and plows the rooftop and the front grill on his station wagon through a series of low-bearing dead tree limbs, scattering the tree bark, leaves, and branches in the air and down towards the creek water. He reverses the transport and drives another ten feet backwards clearing more of the new roadway for Breck, slamming the gear into drive and runs over the same ground, flattening the grass and tree branches with the tires. He stops and parks the vehicle fifteen feet from the wet river bank for his escape from Darrel, sliding out the driver's seat. He gently closes the door without locking the latch and moves to the rear end on his vehicle.

Breck slowly steers over each mud puddle and each pile of tree branches with great care. The truck can easily plow through each natural obstacle, but he does not want any damage to his truck during the rescue mission with his mother Arie. He stops and parks ten feet from the wet river bank, killing the engine. He emerges out from truck cab and closes the door without locking the latch.

This part of the land property belongs to his mother Arie. No person or hunter should be trespassing onto her land property for any reason, today or tomorrow.

Cinco and Flamingo meet and stand behind the tail gate on the station wagon. Flamingo opens the sideways gate and reaches inside, pulling out one of the two canoes from the rear compartment, lifting it over his non ass-backwards baseball cap with a heavy grunt and slowly back steps from the vehicle.

Cinco drags a second canoe out and then totes the canoe above his hair roots, slowly spinning around, moving ahead towards the river water. He scans the shallow water of dark green hue and as he is wasting time and his body energy with the awkward water transport. "We can swim across faster rather than use the two canoes."

Flamingo shuffles ahead and wears his new pair of black tinted cowboy boots, slipping over the slick mud. He dresses in a pair of black tinted cargo pants down to his ankles and a black tinted long-sleeved shirt, appearing like a sports hunter. He wears a solid black baseball cap over his new blonde hair cut and appears sorta like a solider while hoping to pass an eye inspection from one of the numerous Redstone Point military police guards. He exhales with the excursion. "Naw, I didn't sleep too well last night in that fancy hotel room and our mama probably did not sleep good either. Mama is going to be scared and tired along with me. I ain't taking no gawd damn chance in getting our mother hurt on this rescue mission."

Breck jogs ahead and slams the rear door on the station wagon shut, pulling up behind Cinco, stealing the canoe from his brother and rushes ahead and then stops. He tosses the canoe over the river bank and down into the shallow water, saying with a nod. "Flamingo is right." He jumps from the river bank and lands directly down on the floor inside the canoe, sitting on top of the floor, drawing out one of the paddles. He quickly steers ahead towards the opposite side on the river bank and hits the shoreline. He stands upright and jumps up from the floor on the canoe, landing down on the wet grass with a heavy grunt. He spins around and drags the transport onto soil ground of mud and grass, standing upright and turns, scouting the new hillside while waiting on his two brothers.

Flamingo and Cinco share the other canoe as Flamingo swiftly paddles across the water and steers towards the opposite river bank, hitting the low ground within minutes.

Cinco jumps out from the canoe floor and lands down in the shallow water, reaching out, dragging the transport onto the solid shoreline of wet grass and mud.

Flamingo climbs out from the canoe and slips over the wet mud again, softly cursing with annoyance.

Cinco stands upright and whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny screen, reading in silence the geographical direction. He points in the direction of the rental warehouse that is rented by Darrel on Redstone Point and moves ahead, leading his two brothers in silence.

Each brother is not wearing a defensive weapon, not even a hunting knife. The little tool could be considered a single terrorist threat against a US military base, such like, Redstone Point, within the eyeballs of any US military officer. So, each brother will use their smart neurons to access the locked door on the guarded warehouse.

Each brother stumbles up a steep sloped hillside and tumbles over each pile of loose rocks, each heap of wet pine needles, and every stack of dead leaves, finally reaching a gray tinted city street on the Redstone Point military base property. They quietly huddle behind a stack of gray colored limestone boulders which has nicely been created by Mother Nature and then each face peeks around the rock and scans the new landscape.

No parked or rolling cars. No armed or standing soldiers. No view of Darrel.

On a lonely and empty city street, inside Redstone Point military base, a row of nicely maintained warehouses stands in front of a vanilla-colored walkway. Each warehouse is tall, square-shaped and exhibits four sides of gleaming steel plates.

Each brother crouches down and scurries away from the stack of boulders, quickly dashing across the open roadway without a single rolling vehicle and then stops beside a grove of tall trees, kneeling on the short grass and weeds.

A pair of eyeballs scans each warehouse while hunting for number thirteen.

Flamingo sees the black tinted number thirteen ahead in the distance which is located at the end of the long row of warehouses, slapping the arm on Breck in silence, standing upright and races ahead towards the last warehouse. Breck and Cinco stand and ran at the back spine on Flamingo in silence also.

Flamingo halts and stands in front of a solid door of steel, touching the door with all finger pads while searching for the door knob. There is only a single lock pad that holds the door shut.

Cinco looks down at the ground and marches around the grass, finding a large rock, swinging back to the solid steel door. He stops, stands, and holds his breath, pounding the rock against the simple lock pad with a powerful hit.

The lock pad does not bust open.

He pounds the lock pad again.

The rusty door slowly creaks open with a creepy squeak.

Cinco keeps the rock for security and enters the semi-dark room setting first.

Breck moves ahead next and whistles through his parted lips a familiar duck call which signals to Arie that her first born son has arrived inside the rented warehouse.

Each brother stops and listens to the air waves and as each pair of eyeballs scans each dark wall of steel. Each pair of nostrils smells the dank odor inside the abandoned warehouse.

A faint sound similar like a returning whistle echoes around each steel wall.

Cinco slowly moves ahead and follows the faint noise, strolling ahead towards a rear door on the back wall, racing ahead and shouts out loud at the dull steel, "Mama! Are you in there, Mama?"

"Cinco!" Her faint voice echoes back through the steel plate from behind a solid door without a window.

Breck and Flamingo back step from Cinco and then spin around, quickly searching for a tool to bust down the thick steel door.

Cinco continues to stand at the solid door and yells out loud instructions to Arie through the tight door hinges. "Get to the rear of the room, Mama! We're going to bust you outta of here! Get away from the door, Mama! Get to the rear of the room for safety, Mama!"

Flamingo finds a large axe behind one of the rusty cabinets and squats down, grabbing the item, presenting a wicked grin. He stands upright from the floor and totes the weapon on his collar bone, spinning around to face steel door, sweeping his free hand to the side for each brother to move away from the steel door.

He stops and stands beside the door, posing in a perpendicular stance into the steel. He strikes the air part-way to the door for an exact measurement of the latched bolt and then forcefully flings the axe backwards behind his collar bone. He takes a gulp of air, holds, and then slams the metal point into the bolt.

The steel door violently shakes and then loudly rattles without giving up its hold on the hinges.

He rears backwards and holds his breathe, ramming a second whack at the bolt.

This time the bolt breaks away from the door frame with a swishy, creepy creak. The steel door slowly creaks open and reveals darkness inside a long, narrow enclosed storage room.

Flamingo back steps from the open door and spins around holding the axe as a deadly weapon to use against Darrel, if the man presents his sneer.

Cinco rushes ahead and enters the dark storage room, sliding down, squatting in front of his mother Arie. She is curled in a ball at the rear wall for safety. He reaches and checks her medical condition first for any open wound or broken bone on her petite body.

Her pretty face possesses a pair of swollen eye sockets from crying with worry and as her dress displays a set of torn and rips from the fighting with an evil Darrel. She doesn't wear pair of her heeled fashion sandals or her three puffy underskirt crinolines.

Cinco reaches over and grabs her waistline, assisting Arie to stand upright on top of the cold concrete floor in silence. Time is wasting away here. He leans down and lifts her body from the cold floor, cuddling his mother into his armpit, toting over the floor. They swiftly back step from the rear wall and then spin around, quickly dashing out from the dark storage room into the dim lighting.

Inside the open archway, Flamingo holds the axe and watches the outside for any people sightings.

Breck spins around with a stern face and leads them ahead toward the open doorway, shoving Flamingo through the open archway first.

Over the flat ground of short weeds and deathly grass blades, Flamingo dashes away from the warehouse entrance door and flings the axe towards a stationary tree as it lands down on the ground with a soft thump. His eyeballs dart around the landscape for any trouble.

Breck moves ahead a few feet from the warehouse, stops, and swings around, staring at Cinco and Arie.

Cinco quickly exits the warehouse and holds his mother underneath his armpit and stops, handing her to Breck.

Breck tucks Arie underneath his armpit and slowly spins around to see the back spine on each brother.

Cinco and Flamingo dash ahead, stop, and stand in the middle of the street acting as a distraction, so Breck and Arie can escape. Each one waves a clear signal to Breck.

Breck and Arie swiftly dash across the street entering the woodlands, escaping from the warehouse.

Cinco and Flamingo slowly move ahead and then twirl around in a circle while scouting the roadway and each warehouse building without meeting Darrel. They scurry into the woodlands setting.

Breck totes Arie through the woodlands and then stops beside the stack of limestone boulders. Flamingo and Cinco dash across the roadway and stops parking beside Breck.

Breck pulls Arie away from his chest, holding her in the air.

Cinco rips off his leather motorcycle jacket and wraps the clothing around her bare shoulders, protecting her body from each hard tree branch and each prickly tree plant that will attack her delicate skin while running down the steep hillside back towards the river bank.

Cinco reaches out and grabs Arie, cuddling her petite body into his chest like a baby. Arie might be a small person, but her light weight coupled with his heightened excitement and extreme restlessness of sleep will tax his teen strength while stumbling down a steep hill towards the one of the canoes. Cinco quickly prays and hopes that they do not run into Darrel.

Breck leads and stumbles down the steep slope of leaves, tree limbs, and pine needles first.

Cinco totes Arie into his chest and races behind the back spine on Breck.

Flamingo draws the flank and rotates around looking for any movement, listening for an unusual man-made sound also.

They slowly run back down the steep hillside while tumbling over each hard rock, every exposed tree root, and each rotten pile of tree leaves, finally reaching the flat creek bank safely and then halt on top of the slick and sticky red tinted mud.

At the Tennessee River bank of red clay and deep black water, Breck spins around and relieves an exhausted Cinco of the dead weight, lifting his mother and her fluffy dress in the air, swinging around to face the canoe. He gently places her naked feet down on the floor in the first canoe. Arie hits the floor and then squats down, crawling ahead towards the front bench helping to balance the light weight water craft over the Tennessee River, so the canoe doesn't overturn down into the cold swift river water.

Breck, Cinco and Flamingo reach down and shove the first canoe off the sticky clay down into the shallow river water. Breck leaps into the rear bench and reaches down, grabs the paddle, steering the boat ahead towards the opposite river bank to freedom.

Cinco and Flamingo shove the second canoe into the water and then jumps down on the floor. Flamingo steers the second canoe and arrives first at the opposite river bank in his canoe and jumps out, standing upright in the knee-high shallow water, waiting for Breck.

Breck slowly maneuvers the first canoe through the deep swirling stream towards Flamingo.

On the opposite river bank in the dark green shallow water, Flamingo reaches out and slams the tip on the metal canoe with both of his palms, twisting the aluminum canoe parallel into his chest.

Breck steadies the boat with the paddle as best he can in the fast rushing river.

Cinco drifts the second canoe towards Breck while assisting with a parallel parking job.

Flamingo reaches over and grabs her, lifting Arie by the waistline up from the front bench in the air, twisting around to face the muddy river bank.

Arie reaches out and digs all her fingernails and toe nails down into the soft red mud, slowly moving up the steep bank and then lands her cupped hand on top of the flat ground of mud.

Cinco continues to sit inside the canoe and leans against the mud bank while protecting her body from falling backwards down into the cold creek water.

At the McCory land property line, Arie continues to wear the leather motorcycle jacket over her shoulders and then kneecaps in her fluffy pink dress on top of the wet red clay, crawling upwards and away from the sloped river bank through a series of sharp rocks that cuts into the dress, touching her wet hand on top of semi-dry land with a slight smile of relieve.

Cinco leaps out from the parked canoe and lands on top of the sloped muddy bank, scratching his fingers into the mud, climbing from the water. He swiftly stands upright and dashes ahead, leaning down, assisting Arie stand upright in her wet long dress on the top of the soft mud. He grunts with nervous energy and lifts Arie in the air, swiftly toting her body ahead towards his truck. He leans into her wet skull with a worried brow. "Mama, you hide down on top of the soft blankets which have been laid out on top of the truck bed for protection to your head and your body." He swiftly moves her rescue with greater speed ahead of Darrel and stops, standing near the rear wheel base, placing her naked feet on top of the semi-dry ground. He removes his leather jacket and covers her face during the dangerous truck ride back through the rough terrain towards the Balegreen Cow Ranch.

He scoots around Arie and then stops, standing behind the tail gate, dropping the metal panel, moving ahead towards a set of folded soft blankets that line the cold metal bed.

Flamingo has exited and then dumps the canoe onto the river bank pulling up behind a blinded Arie and reaches out to her waistline. She gasps in shock but understands the urgent need to leave the river bank. Flamingo lifts her into the air and hands Arie to Cinco.

Cinco accept and drags Arie over the side metal railing, squatting down, placing her body down on top of the soft blankets inside the trunk bed. "Lay down here on top of the soft blankets, Mama."

Flamingo back steps from the trunk and spins around, slowly moving ahead towards the river bank while scouting the landscape for any trouble.

Inside the trunk bed, Arie lands on her fanny stretching out her body over the soft blankets in silence.

Cinco slides the leather jacket from her eyeballs and places a couple of blankets over her wet dress while smiling as best he can at the deadly dilemma.

At the river bank, Breck leaps out and dumps the first canoe, dashing ahead towards the parked station wagon and then stops. He opens the rear compartment and drags out a third dry canoe from the station wagon, back stepping from the vehicle and spins around, moving towards his truck. He lifts the aluminum canoe over his hair roots and then stops, handing the item to Cinco.

Inside the trunk bed, Cinco stands upright from the truck bed floor and spins around, accepting the canoe from Breck. He swings around and anchors the canoe on top of the metal frame that has been built into the middle of the trunk bed which will cover her face and her body while protecting Arie from any falling tree limbs or dying birds during the escape run.

Cinco latches the canoe and then shakes the boat testing the security. He drops down and views Arie with a smile, gently touching the hovering canoe that hangs over her body and face. "This is our plan, Mama. In case, we get stopped. I'm placing the upside canoe over the bolted framework. This is secure. I promise. You will not get hurt, Mama. Just stay low and still underneath the canoe. We'll be back home shortly."

Arie doesn't move or smile or grunt just blinks her eyelashes with a visual command. She is both tired of fighting against Darrel and deeply worried with the safety of her three sons.

On the ground, Flamingo swings around with a gasp and dashes ahead, slamming into the back spine on Breck and whispers with worry, "Noise!"

A single helicopter flies low over the grove of tall tree tops.

"Move it, Cinco!" Breck continues to stand with worry beside the truck and sneers at Cinco.

Cinco stands upright from the floor with a gasp and swiftly spins around, leaping over the tire rim, landing down into Flamingo's arms. Each brother quickly shuffles around each other and then races ahead towards an individual getaway vehicle.

The getaway plan splits Breck and Flamingo, who travel in two different directions while confusing Darrel into picking a rough wildness pathway and hopefully chasing one of the vehicles in the wrong direction.

Breck will plow his truck with his mother down the new forest clearing that the brothers had created earlier this morning, heading back towards the house, where the hired paid farm hands will call the police and protect Arie.

On the ground, Breck slides beside the driver's door and reaches out, touching the door handle on his pickup truck. A flying bullet hits and explodes the driver's side view mirror. The mirror particles down on the grass and his boot toes. Breck stands in place and lifts his palms in the air while cursing with a string of loud words at Darrel.

A second bullet hits and explodes the front passenger side-view mirror on the jacked-up station wagon. Flamingo halts in place and holds both of his palms in the air while cursing out loud with a string of nasty words at Darrel too.

A cold rifle barrel in a pair of talent hands from a soldier points directly at the cheekbone on Cinco, who straddles the motorcycle and does not lift his hands into the air while shouting out loud with a string of vile curse words at Darrel also.

On the opposite side of the Tennessee River, Darrel steps out from behind a tall tree and stares in silence at each teen smart-ass while scanning the landscape for Arie. He wears a gray-tinted outfit, a white knit shirt, a sports jacket, and a pair of matching trousers, flipping his hand in the air.

A semi-crooked row of tall females and males wear a painted face of green, white, and brown colors and displays a set of matching camouflage body gear strutting ahead from the grove of trees and then halt on top of the flat muddy river bank.

Each solider whip up a blue-tinted slang shot devise and whirls the weapon above their baseball cap, releasing the object inside the net. An array of flying mobile telephones soar across the Tennessee River. Some of mobile telephone land down into the placid fresh water. The set of other objects slams down into the mud on the opposite side of the river and sticks a few feet from each teen.

Darrel continues to stand beside the tall shade tree speaking into his personal mobile telephone and as each one of his words is relayed through the grounded mobile telephone into the eardrums of each teen. "Turn around and huddle like a litter of good puppies, boys. And obey me!"

On top of Arie's land property, in front of the parked station wagon, Flamingo continues to stand and stare into the woodlands while hearing a tiny voice coming out from the numerous ground mobile telephones and then slowly twists around sneering at Darrel.

Beside the truck, Breck also hears the tiny voice of Darrel coming out from each grounded mobile telephone and then calmly pivots around with both of his arms in the air, growling at Darrel.

Cinco gasps in shock at the landing of each grounded mobile telephone down in the mud and slides off the seat on the motorcycle, slowly shuffling ahead without a pair of raised hands and stops, standing beside Flamingo.

On the opposite side at the river bank, Darrel doesn't smile as he is in a crappy mood. His bride has been stolen from his rented warehouse by her own resourceful children. He speaks into his mobile telephone, "Arie!"

On top of the Arie's property, Cinco stands with Flamingo and shouts out loud into each grounded mobile telephone, sounding with fury. "This is our mama's land. You are trespassing here, dude."

Darrel speaks into his mobile telephone with a smile and as his words echo throughout the forest land inside Arie's land property on the opposite side of the river bank. "Then I will insist that you call out Sheriff Tommy Lee and complain, after I come and collect my lost Bama treasure."

Breck points down at the dumped canoes and shouts back into each grounded mobile telephone and as his words are echoed back to Darrel. "We're fishing for trout like the local rednecks do. We thought our mama was with you, Darrel."

On the opposite side of the river bank, Darrel scans the woodlands, then the river water, then the canoes, and then the pickup truck, smiling with glee, speaking into his mobile telephone. "Guns."

His army of colorful painted faces whip up a long rifle in each pair of hands pointing at the three teens. The triplet brothers view each weapon barrel and then stiffen with fear and angry.

Darrel speaks into the mobile telephone. "Target the pickup truck on my..."

"No!" Breck shouts out loud into each grounded mobile telephone, runs backward, and stops, standing beside the tire rim, protecting his mother. Arie is hiding down on top of the truck floor. If a series of flying heated bullets penetrate the soft metal on the truck, then Arie will die.

On the opposite side of the river bank, Darrel smirks and flips out his arm. The hired soldier hands him a metal scooter. Darrel shuffles down the sloped hillside and halts on top of the flat river bank slamming the metal scooter down into the water. The small motor ignites on the upright boat-like devise that displays a vertical handle bar. He steps on top of the flat skis and slowly glides over the placid water like Brother Jesus.

Each hired soldier copies Darrel and drops a metal scooter with a soft thump down into the river water and then starts the small motor, gliding across the water on top of the metal skis, reaching the opposite side in record time.

On top of the placid water, Darrel leads his hired team of soldiers towards the opposite river bank and slows the machine, halting the skis on top of the sloped bank and as the machine sticks upright down into the mud. He slides off the skis and then slowly climbs up the steep muddy bank, standing on top of the flat dirt with a wicked grin, staring at each teen. He tosses his arm without using the mobile telephone and shouts out loud with a sneer. "Cuff each pair of wrist bones behind a back spine and bound each set of arms tight. They're a pack of strong, smart asses."

Each hired soldier halts the machine and as each scooter sticks upright in the mud. Each soldier slides off the skis with a stern face and slowly climbs up the steep river bank splitting apart into a set of smaller groups and then surrounds each teen ass. Some of the soldiers pull out a weapon and points at the face on each teen. One solider pulls out a set rough rope and ties each pair of wrist bones on each teen in silence.

Darrel slowly moves ahead with a sneer towards the stationary jacked-up pickup truck. "I don't want any more problems, Cinco, Flamingo, and Breck." He stops and jumps upon the tire wheel and reaches over, slapping the canoe off the stationary platform, tossing each blanket and leather jacket to the side, smiling down at Arie. "Awe! The princess snoozes." Arie reaches up with a sneer and slams her two fists at his face.

Darrel laughs out loud from her set of childish punches and reaches down, grabbing her waistline, lifting Arie in the air and tosses her over his collar bone. He jumps down with Arie and lands on top of the soft dirt, back stepping form the truck, spinning around to face the river bank. He moves ahead back towards the grounded scooter machine that glides over water, "Everyone, let's move out! We're gliding back over the river water and visiting my personal residence."

The other soldiers spin around and drop down the gun, moving back towards their individual scooter. A single female soldier that stands behind Breck, Cinco, and Flamingo reaches out, shoving the teen back towards the river bank. The triplet brothers slowly move ahead with a set of soft growls at Darrel while worrying about their mother Arie.

At the river bank, Darrel rolls down the slope first and drops Arie on top of the flat skis, facing the river bank, wrapping both of his arms around her waistline. He cranks the engine and back slides the scooter into the water spinning the machine, soaring across the waves back towards the opposite side of the river bank.

Each soldier quickly loads back onto an individual upright skis pad and cranks its engine, slowly sailing across the river water towards the Redstone Point property line.

Each single female soldier stops and cuddles with one teen on top of the skis pad cranking the small motor, gliding the machine back across the river water and then lands skis on top of the flat dirt.

Each soldier slides off each machine that stands upright in the mud and slowly climbs back up the steep hillside for a second time, huddling around the three teens and Arie. One of the male totes Arie up the hillside and follows behind Darrel.

Darrel leads his team of soldiers and lands on top of the gray-tinted paved roadway, crossing the road and then turns to face a new row of structures, strolling away from the warehouse buildings. He leads the team towards a small one-story wooden white painted house.

At the Redstone Point military base property line, in front of a row of one-story, A-frame wooden house, Darrel Kant walks to the last one on the room within the heated daylight hours and slams the front door open for each one of his invited guests.

Darrel stops on top of the wooden front porch. The male drops Arie down beside Darrel. Darrel reaches over and grabs her hand dragging Arie through the open door, wearing a smile.

Inside the tiny living room space, each person stands on top of the polished wooden floor and greets with a smile, staring at the new couple in silence.

On top of a tiny elevated platform, in front of an ancient bricked fireplace, Robert Earl stands with a smile and motions Arie into the small living room. _The Holy Bible_ occupies his free hand. "Welcome back, Arie! I see you have brought more company for our very special occasion. Very nice! Welcome, lads. Come in! Grab a seat anywhere! Let's begin the wedding ceremony, before the sun sets."

Each hired soldier slowly enters the same living room setting and then turns, standing in front of the entrance wall without windows beside the single the front door, watching the commotion with a stern face.

Darrel and Arie slowly cross the empty room, stop, and stands in front of the tiny elevated platform, looking up to see Robert Earl.

Flamingo enters through the open archway next with a gasp in shock, following the back spine on the solider.

Breck enters next and scans with a gasp each person inside the tiny room.

Cinco halts on top of the front porch and sneers with fury. A cold barrel from the hand gun leans into then shoves the metal deeper into the back spine on the teen. Cinco slowly moves ahead through the open archway and snarls at each person.

The tiny room contains wallpaper in red and orange big flowers and measures twenty feet in length, twenty feet in wide, and nine feet in height up towards a painted wooden ceiling of pale peach.

The street is an older piece of roadway, which is used for a bachelor US military soldier, who is stationed here Redstone Point military base. The adjacent tan colored steel warehouses are older and used to store any personal items for the bachelor US military soldier, like an automobile.

Inside the tiny living room, Cinco slowly struts ahead towards a single dark-tinted, naked wooden bench that rests against the side wall of red and orange wallpaper above a single glass window that burns down the morning sunshine rays over the polished wood.

The female soldier swishes her switch blade knife near the eardrum on Cinco, reaching down, slicing through the set of thin ropes on each one of his wrist bones while freeing Cinco.

Cinco steps forward and swiftly twirls in a half-circle on his other foot slamming his folded fist forward into her ugly face. The female solider stands in front of Cinco and reaches out grabbing the other arm on Cinco and then holds the teen in place with her womanly strength, sniggering at the young asshole.

On top of the elevated platform, Robert Earl wears a gray-tinted business suit with a coral colored necktie, a white-tinted dress shirt, and a pair of gray-tinted leather shoes. His suit jacket displays a matching coral handkerchief in the left-breast pocket. He smiles at Cinco. "That is a good move, lad! Now, quietly sit down with your two brothers, Cinco! Before someone gets hurt."

Cinco spins around with a sneer, moves ahead, and stops, standing beside Flamingo. The three brothers stand upright in their proper birth order in front of a wooden bench and a single glass window.

On the opposite wall of red and orange flower-patterned wallpaper, Lacey Newton detaches from the wallpaper and aims her shotgun at each triplet. She displays a coral-tinted short sundress, a pair of matching summer high-heels shoes, a tone of coral-tinted lipstick while smacking on a piece of bubble gun. She stops and stands beside Robert Earl, smiling at each teen, bubbling one bubble at a time.

Breck snorts at Robert Earl, "The brains."

Cinco laughs at Darrel, "The balls."

Flamingo sneers at Lacey, "The bitch."

Cinco leans over and sneers into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "Hush it, Flamingo!"

Flamingo leans over and winks at Breck. "I told you, Breck. You are way too awesome for this little city slicker cunt," Cinco and Flamingo chuckle.

Breck snarls at Lacey and then views Robert Earl, saying with a worried brow. "Why are you doing this thing, sir?"

Flamingo chuckles with a smile. "Robert Earl, he told us inside his pretend laboratory the day of our senior class research project, which was entitled _Topo-morphology_. I can't believe I fell on my boots and failed in my mind for that old dog trick. This is all a fucking fake fairy tale, ya'll, including his work job, his work title, his paid work. A topo-morphologist seeks to understand the history and dynamics of the landforms and predicts future change through field observations, physical experiments, and technology modeling."

"Word for word, Flamingo! I salute you, lad. You are too smart for your own good gracious sake's alive body." Robert Earl smiles at Flamingo.

"How so?" Cinco frowns at Robert Earl.

Flamingo nods. "Villi Efoney. Cinco made a joke out of the proper name. He is phony. Robert Earl tossed the sour beer in our faces, boys. We just had to swallow it and taste the toxins."

Robert Earl nods. "I will miss you the most, lad. You are the smartest among the triplet brothers. I'm proud that you finally figured out my plotted plan, but a little bit too late." He turns and smiles at Arie. "Arie, your place is here in front of me, please." Arie struggles with Darrel and sounds with a set of loud grunts. Robert Earl frowns. "Contain your bride, groom!"

Darrel leans down and whispers into her eardrum. "Do what he says, sweet pea!"

Arie grunts again in frustration. Darrel holds Arie in place. She cuts her two eyeballs and views her three sons.

Robert Earl smiles. "Sit down, lads!"

The trio of female soldiers shuffles around and then shoves each teen on the chest as Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco sit down at the same time and then sneer at the solider. Each solider slowly backsteps away from each teen and joins her co-workers on the entrance wall, sitting down on the floor, watching the action, before receiving the rest of their monies.

On top of the tiny elevated flat platform, Robert Earl smiles. "You can see that the tiny room does not contain any other pieces of furniture. However, I invite everyone to stay for the upcoming happy wedding ceremony. Soldiers, you can sit down on top of the floor and lean against the wall. The ceremony will be short. I promise. Then we can start the joyful celebration." He turns and smiles down at Lacey. "I believe that a set of formal introductions are called for here," he points down at Lacey. "This is my grandchild, who is named Lacey. This is my child, who is named Darrel. These are my true granddaughter and son." He turns and stares down at Arie. "Darrel and Lacey are my blood, my kin."

"My, not Granddaddy!" Flamingo sneers at the nose profile on Robert Earl.

"My future." Robert Earl turns and smiles at Flamingo.

"My, not future!" Flamingo growls at Robert Earl.

"Hush it!" Cinco leans over and sneers into the cheekbone on Flamingo.

Robert Earl turns and smiles the audience of soldiers. "I was married, before I met and married Iredell. I am very happy that my own blood family members are here with me on this very special occasion. Welcome to the marriage ceremony of Darrel to Arie. I apology for stopping the wedding ceremony, yet, again. But I must express that I am a deacon at the local church which qualifies my person to marry anyone on Planet Earth." He chuckles. "I could marry Joseph and Mary, again, if they were present, today, with us."

Flamingo sneers. "Brother Jesus is present, today, with us."

"Amen, brother! Brother Jesus protects our flock." Robert Earl turns and smiles at the triplets.

"Brother Jesus protects our good flock." Flamingo sneers at Robert Earl.

Breck leans over and sneers into the other cheekbone on Flamingo. "As Almighty God is my heavenly eye witness, if you get our mama hurt with one of your stupid shit ass stunts, then you will be confessing all of your evil sins directly with Brother Jesus in heaven, compliments of me, Flamingo."

Flamingo looks down at the floor and whispers with a worried brow. "I am not that stupid, Breck."

Cinco leans over and whispers into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "How do we get mama outta of this mess?"

"We stay alert and awake!" Breck stares at Arie, who hides inside Darrel's arms.

"Welcome to the marriage ceremony of Darrel and Arie." Robert Earl tosses his arm in the air and smiles to the captured audience. "Thank you all for coming to this cherish event. Let us please pray for our evil sins and good mercy coming from Almighty God." He drops his arm by his side and bows his chin down into his expensive necktie.

Each soldier lowers a painted face down into a chest while sitting on top of the floor.

In front of the tiny elevated platform, Darrel releases Arie and then twirls around to face the entrance wall, pulling out an automatic weapon from his dirty jacket, aiming at the line of hired soldier on the entrance wall.

Lacey spins around to face the same entrance wall and aims her shotgun barrel at the same line of soldiers, presenting an evil smile.

Robert Earl pulls out an automatic weapon from his ass and aims the barrel at the entrance wall also.

An array of flying bullets peppers the entrance wall creating a set of dead bodies that paint the floor, the ceiling planks, and three walls in whirling designs of red tinted blood stains, broken bone fragments and tons of tiny pink guts.

The gunfire halts.

Lacey fires a single shot from the shotgun blowing the moving skull on the female, spraying an array of white bone fragment, pink skin flesh, and red blood over the wall again while laughing at her evil feat.

In front of the tiny platform, Arie stands in place and covers her eardrums from the loud gunfire, sobbing with her sad tears, turning with fear to see her three sons and whispers to Darrel. "My babies, please, release my sons. I will do anything you want, give you anything you want, Darrel."

Darrel stores the gun back underneath his jacket with laughter and spins around with a smile, cuddling with Arie, planting a kiss on her wet cheekbone. She stiffens from his nasty touch like a poisonous rattle snake bite. He pulls back with a smile and whispers into her wet cheekbone. "Just give my old dad lots of American money. Then he will leave us alone moving someplace like one of the Caribbean islands while living out his last days. Then, sweet pea, you and I can send your three brats off to an expensive boarding school overseas from the USA, where the three assholes will not make any more trouble for me. I promise. Then we will be very happy together, you and me forever, Arie."

The triplet brothers continue to sit on top of the wooden bench and stare at the crooked row of bloody bodies and the newly painted walls in pink guts and red blood that consists of the dead hired help.

Robert Earl continues to stand on top of the platform and tosses his free hand, saying with a smile. "Everyone, please, take your place for the wedding ceremony. Let us finish this up. Stand right her beside Arie, Lacey. And I do not want any more trouble here, lads."

Darrel cuddles with Arie. She turns with worry and stares at her three sons.

Breck nods in silence to Arie that everything is going to be fine. He is mentally planning a nasty kill attack on Darrel in order to free his mother.

Flamingo continues to sit and growls at Darrel, elbowing both Breck and Cinco, readying for his surprise kill attack on Darrel also.

Cinco continues to sit and shakes his curls at Arie while silently mouthing her name: Mama.

Arie shuffles side to side in her naked feet while sobbing with tears of fear and worry, praying for a miracle and whispers the same word for her eardrums only, "My babies!"

Lacey shuffles beside Arie and points her shotgun at the nose profile on Arie, wearing an evil smile.

On top of the shared wooden bench seat, Flamingo sneers. "There's only one shot left in that gun, girlfriend."

Lacey turns and sneers at Flamingo. "And there is only one mama left in the family unit, boyfriend." Breck slams his fist into the guts on Flamingo. Flamingo huffs with exhaled air.

Cinco elbows the rib cage on Flamingo next. Flamingo grunts in pain and continues to watch the wedding ceremony.

On top of the tiny elevated platform, Robert Earl continues to stand and smiles down at Arie. "Bless these children, our heavenly Father in their tender bonded sweet union of marriage. Now, Darrel, do you take sweet Arie as your wife?"

Darrel looks up and smiles at his father. "I do."

Lacey smiles at Breck and continues to aim the shotgun at the skull on Arie.

Robert Earl smiles. "Arie, you might not take Darrel inside your heart. But I want to remind you to vote with your smart mind," he turns and nods at her three sons. "Since your three lads depend upon your answer."

"Mama!" Cinco gasps in shock.

Lacey swings the shotgun barrel at Cinco and as each brother stiffens in fear and fright, not Flamingo.

Flamingo sneers at Lacey. "Fucking bitch, you die last." He laughs from his fear and stupidity.

On top of the tiny elevated platform, Robert Earl turns and smiles down at Arie. "Ignore the lads, Lacey! Resume your position, child!" He looks down and opens a page inside the Holy Bible. "Arie, do you take Darrel to be your loving husband?"

"I...I..." can't do it. She turns and sobs with tears at her three sons.

Breck continues to sit and shakes his skull for Arie not to accept the marriage agreement.

Flamingo continues to sit and growls at Darrel.

Cinco continues to sit and shakes his curls, silently mouthing her name: Mama.

"I...I..." can't do it. Arie continues to shout out loud and stares at her three sons.

" _I do."_ A familiar voice echoes throughout the tiny room.

Each pair of eyeballs turns and stares at the open front door.

Iredell Balegreen stands inside the open archway, wearing baggy faded blue jeans with her booted cowgirl feet apart, aiming a pair of twin hand guns at Robert Earl as she can shoot a real gun. She moves ahead with a lady sneer towards Robert Earl. "Do not think about harming my pretty daughter or one of my precious grandsons, Robert Earl!"

Robert Earl frowns at Iredell and the huddle of new soldiers. Each soldier wears the color of black hue coming from the skull cap down to each leather boot.

Iredell stops and lounges within the safety of her team of hired soldiers aiming her twin guns at Robert Earl.

Lacey squats and gently drops down her shotgun on top of the floor, standing upright, lifting her hands, sounding with a sneer at Iredell.

On top of the tiny platform, Robert Earl frowns. "Iredell, did you know the entire time? How did you know about me?"

Iredell frowns with a nod. "Of course, I knew about you, Robert Earl, ya stupid pile of horse shit. I'm a true southern cowgirl that notices when the cows are missing from the pasture meadow. Who do you think hired A.J.?"

A.J. steps from behind Iredell with a smirk and aims his hand gun at Darrel.

Darrel reaches inside his jacket and pulls out the automatic weapon down, squatting down on the floor, resting the weapon on the floor. He slowly stands upright and sneers at A.J.

"I hired A.J. to watch over your butt-hole, darling." Iredell smiles. "Arie honey, please move away from that sorry piece of bull shit. Come over here and stand next to me for protection."

On top of the wooden bench, Flamingo swiftly stands upright from the bench seat, dashes ahead towards his mother Arie, and then stops, pulling Arie away from Darrel and cuddles her into his chest. He rears back and slams his folded fist into Darrel nose.

A spray of bright red blood sprints in the air and runs down the face on Darrel. Darrel swiftly falls forward and lands down onto the wooden polished floor, holding his broken nose with both hands without comment.

The triplet brothers and his new allies laugh out loud from the amusing sight.

Iredell stands in place and laughs with a nod at her grandson. "Good job, Flamingo! Grandsons, please, take your mother outta of here, right now. Breck, your personal pickup truck is located around the street corner. All of you go back home right now! I will be there in a few more minutes, once I take out the trash," she sneers at Robert Earl.

"Yes, ma'am!" Breck swiftly stands upright with a smile from the bench seat and leads his family members towards the open archway, scooting around the huddle of new soldiers and his grandmother.

Flamingo cuddles with Arie and slowly moves ahead, scooting around the same huddle of soldiers, following the back spine on Breck. He stops and stands, turning to see nose profile on A.J. "Are you coming with us, A.J.?"

A.J. stares and smiles at Darrel. "No! I'm helping Iredell take out the trash. Don't worry, son! I'll bring her right back home afterwards."

The new group of soldiers sounds with an array of soft chuckles and stares at Robert Earl, Lacey and Darrel.

Flamingo cuts his eyeballs to each masked male and female, saying with a worried brow. "Right!" He swiftly moves ahead with Arie and strolls through the open archway, exiting the house, moving across the wooden front porch.

Cinco swiftly dashes ahead from the bench seat with a nod and a smile to his grandmother and A.J., exiting the house also.

Cinco follows Flamingo and Arie down the bricked steps. Flamingo stops and then lifts Arie into his arms while strolling over the heated vanilla colored walkway as Arie does not wear a pair of shoes.

Breck moves ahead and looks up at the sky, silently praying to Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all his heavenly angels for the surprising divine intervention strolling down the walkway while scanning for his personal pickup trunk.

The front door on the small wooden house slams shut with a loud pop.

Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco halt and then spin around at the same time while staring at the front porch and the closed front door.

A set of loud gunfire explodes inside the tiny house as a set of loud human screams permeate the quiet countryside and then there is silence.

On top of the heated vanilla walkway, Flamingo cuddles Arie next to his heart, staring at the closed front door. "Uh!"

Breck frowns at the closed front door and growls with a sneer. "Shut it, Flamingo." He spins around with a sour frown and swiftly moves ahead, bowing his chin down into his dirty shirt, leading his family members towards his parked pickup truck that sits underneath a grove of shade trees.

"Right!" Cinco spins around with a sad face, moves ahead, and stops, reaching out, grabbing his mother. He lifts Arie up from the bent arms on Flamingo, cuddles her from the heat, and swiftly strolls ahead toward Breck and the parked pickup trunk in silence.

Flamingo continues to stand and stares at the closed door, bowing his chin in a silent prayer for the three dead bodies. He looks up to see the skyline and softly mumbles. "Thank you!" He spins around and races ahead towards his family members, who are getting inside the hot truck while waiting on him. He enters the trunk and sits in the rear bench seat in silence.

The rear passenger door slams shut.

The warm engine roars to life. The pickup truck slowly steers away from the grove of trees, onto the smooth gray tinted roadway, passing a tiny A-gram house with the three dead bodies, and then continues ahead towards the main roadway.

09:09 pm

Balegreen Cow Ranch location

Belle Parlor Room setting

Hot temperatures with dull moonlight and no stars

The entire family has gathered inside the belle parlor room, after the supper meal cuddling on top of two new long sofas in the colors of girly pink, orange, and yellow flowers. The audience consists of Arie, Breck, Cinco, Flamingo, Iredell, Jarvis, Reese, Aurora, and Moe, not the young children.

The two girls are inside the guest bedroom fast asleep after finishing their fun time and delicious supper at the Balegreen Cow Ranch house.

Arie sits on top of one of the orange-tinted sofas beside her children, Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco, who pose in their birth order.

Flamingo has ditched his new clothing style for his old self wearing that nasty baseball cap ass-backwards over his neatly trimmed locks as his cropped hair grows back long. His naked toes wear the same pair of nasty flip flops also, scanning the room like the rest of his family members in puzzlement and curiosity.

On the other long sofa in pink and yellow strawberry and banana fruit-pattern, Jarvis, Reese, Aurora, and Moe spread out and lean against the new cushions, sipping on coffee or staring with puzzlement for the family meeting.

In-between the two new long sofas, Iredell lounges inside a new oversized pink and yellow stripped sitting chair and smiles at each one of her grandsons. "My dear friends, my beautiful daughter, and my three precious grandsons, I love your very, very much."

Flamingo laughs with a nod. "Ah shit! She ain't our grandmother."

Iredell frowns at Flamingo. "I am your grandmother. I am not a Balegreen, thou. I am. You are. We are the clan of McCory, the first family of Lacy Springs."

"We are, are we?" Brecks turns and frowns at the nose profile on Arie. Arie stares with a puzzled brow at her mother Reese, who sits across the room in the second sofa.

Reese turns and stares at the nose profile on her husband Jarvis. Jarvis stares with a grin at Iredell in silence.

Inside the single chair, Iredell nods to each family member. "Back in our time, which Jarvis and Reese can verify, there was not such a devise as a mobile telephone, an outer space satellite television station, or twenty-four new informational new stations. Information worked like gossip and took weeks, sometimes months, to flow from the lips into the ears," she laughs with Jarvis and Reese. The triplet brothers wear a puzzled brow.

She smiles. "I married your biological granddaddy McCory a long, long time ago. However, there came a swift deadly tractor accident that took my husband and your grandfather, who was named Breck Freehurst McCory, the original. Your biological granddaddy lived and survived for a couple of hours, before he died from a crushed heart valve. I was heartbroken. I loved Breck, very much. We married young with my father's permission, of course, back then. I'm on old country girl. I married a country boy. We were very happy. After the funeral, I was depressed and unhappy. My loving and wise father decided to send me to the university. Back then, a female rarely when to college, since they up and got married. Is that not right, Reese?" Reese nods in silence.

She nods. "Well, I up and get widowed. So, my father insisted that I leave my home for a college education, a change of pace and all that nonsense. I was happy in a new environment. I adapted very quickly."

Flamingo nods with a sneer. "You met Robert Earl."

Iredell nods with a lady sneer. "Yes, my smart-ass grandson, I met Robert Earl at the university at the age of eighteen years old. He was a young adult in his twenties working on his doctoral degree. I was working on mending my heart. So, we fixed each other up. I guess. I was young, looking for love. He was young, loving for luck. We found each other."

"You must've suspected a tiny ounce of something out of place, Mom." Arie nods.

Flamingo nods with smile. "Love is deaf, dumb, and blind making for a dummier southern belle."

Iredell laughs out loud and nods at her grandson. "Flamingo is in love."

"What!" Breck turns and gasps at Flamingo.

Flamingo shakes his nasty ass-backward baseball cap and looks down at his hands as his face is turning red from her honest, "Naw."

"Who? Who are you in love with, dude?" Cinco leans over and shakes the body on Flamingo for fun, laughing out loud, "Who? Who is the girl? Do I know here? Tell us, dude!"

Arie turns and frowns at Cinco and then nods to Iredell. "Please stop that, Cinco. Please continue, Mom."

Flamingo flings both of his arms and tosses Cinco from his smirk in silence.

Iredell smiles. "I was in love with Robert Earl. After our quickie wedding as he had swept me off my pair of polished cowgirl boots, I was very happy. So, my father was very happy for me. We moved back to Lacy Springs and lived in a small house on the outskirts of the McCory farm. I was farm girl. The farm needed attention with the herds of cows, horses, goats, crops, and such. I want back to work as a farmer. Robert Earl went to work as an engineer on Redstone Point. He didn't like the farm or the sun or the fun. I was happy. He was happy. Then, I found out I was pregnancy with child. Again, in ancient times, we didn't have an ultrasound machine to see or predict the baby's arrival. I figured out a due date of my growing fetus based on all the wrong information, of course. I was due in the month of November. My parents were thrilled to have a baby grandchild coming. I was happily married and happy to be a new mom. Robert Earl was happy for me and the baby, as well.

"You never thought the infant inside your womb belonged to my dead biological Granddaddy Breck." Breck frowns.

She shakes her curls with a stern face. "It was timing really. I delivered almost three weeks over the original conception date of my first husband, who was the true father of my son Breck Freehurst McCory, Junior. Since, back then, you just popped out that baby, when the babe wanted it. Is that not right, Reese?" Reese nods with a smile in silence to her three grandsons and Arie.

Iredell smiles. "But once I saw my newborn son, a cute bug with curls of platinum blonde hair, piercing baby blue pupils, and a healthy set of lungs like three other bear cubs, whom I have come to love and adore. You are your father's three sons and your biological granddaddy's three grandsons." She taps an ancient big black tinted manual inside her lap. "I brought photographs of your biological Granddaddy McCory which are presented in black and white hues, of course. His face and his frame are the same type, like you and your deceased father."

"Robert Earl figured that out too." Breck nods with a stern face to Iredell.

Iredell nods. "Yes sir, Breck, the third. Robert Earl didn't make a stink about it, thou. He had reddish hair. I had the blonde locks with curls. Therefore, it was easy to see that the babe looked like me, not Robert Earl. And my second husband Robert Earl never made a nasty comment about my first husband Breck Freehurst, Senior or his biological son Breck Freehurst, Junior."

"He wanted the money." Flamingo nods.

She frowns at Flamingo. "Yes, smart-ass grandson of Breck Freehurst McCory, Senior. He wanted the money more. My father loved me more. Thank the stars, the heavens, and the goodness for my biological caring father. He didn't just watch over Robert Earl for my benefit and his farm benefit. My father had penned an entire journey book while recording Robert Earl's physical movements, financial transactions, and verbal statements. My father had kept all his secrets to himself as he has been a good loving father and a good loving husband to my mother. On his death bed, my father shared his secrets with me along with a great big paper notebook, where he had written it all down in pencil lead. I read my father's book. I believed my father's book," she exhales. "So, let's not waste too much of your precious time or my bedtime, I lost my true love, married a loser lark, and then produced a beautiful angel." She looks up with a smile to see the ceiling which leads up towards beautiful heaven. "Then, Brother Jesus needed my angel back," she looks down and smiles at her three grandsons. "But Almighty God was kind to me and gave me back three more Brecks for the one that I had lost."

Flamingo starts to stand from the sofa and as his teenly mixed emotions are driven with a deep desire to hug his true biological grandmother McCory, who had survived and sacrificed much more than he over the past two days.

Iredell lifts her palm and yells out loud, "A.J.!"

A.J. appears and stands with a smile inside the open archway of the belle parlor room wearing a pair of polished blue-tinted cowboy boots, a pair of faded blue jeans, and a red short-sleeved shirt. Flamingo slowly sits down and stares at A.J. and a new face.

The older man displays a short, round body frame, a head of cropped, silver-grayish colored hair strands and wears a USA soldier's military uniform in the colors of green, tan, and brown and a pair of spit and polished black tinted ankle boots.

On the other side of the two long sofas, a row of oversized sitting chairs stands in the color of solid yellow hue. A.J. and the older man move ahead and sit down inside each chair.

Iredell turns and smiles at the two new faces. "There is more information for each one of you to hear and share. Everyone knows A.J. The gentleman beside A.J. is General Higgins."

Higgins turns and smiles at each male teen. "Dang it! If you, three boys are not three spitting and separate images of your father, Breck Freehurst Balegreen, Junior. Looking at each one of you, it takes me back to my long-ago happy memories. I'm more than happy to share these yesteryear memories with you at the permission of your mother, of course."

Cinco nods to the Higgins. "Mama, can we hear the stories about our daddy, please?"

Arie smiles with a nod while desiring to hear the shared stories also. "Yes, of course, you can share all of the stories about Breck, Junior with us, General Higgins."

He nods. "Miss Arie, Arie's parents, and the rest of the family members, I was Breck's top commanding officer in the US Army from years ago. Miss Arie, I am so sorry for your loss from all these years ago. I lost my first-born son in that very same paratrooper flight, within that same an air raid, many moons ago," he exhales. "I was convinced of some type of sabotage as I was a trained military man my entire career. The saboteur was Darrel, who was not really named Darrel..."

"His name is Diarrhea." Flamingo chuckles with a nod.

Higgins nods with a smile. "Well, we uncovered and found that stench and have emptied all the trash cans today."

Flamingo smiles, "That seen to be a reoccurring theme for the day, sir."

"Hush it, Middle Child." Arie rolls her eyeballs and frowns at Flamingo.

Higgins nods. "I want to express my heartfelt symptoms and signs of good will in person, Miss Arie. A.J. was one of two of the surviving paratroopers. He spent two weeks digging his injured body out of ice, snow, mud, and hell within the thick and dangerous mountainous terrain within the foreign country of Iraq. Then the son of a bitch found me. And I believed his story from the get-go. Darrel was the other survivor, who had believed that is fellow military soldier A.J. had died from his own bloody wounds back there on top of that snowy mountain peak, that night. This mental thought process within Darrel's mind had brilliantly worked to our advantage point over all of these years, decades."

Breck grits his teeth and sneers at the general. "Decades! I am seventeen years old, sir. My father died when I was two years old. How has that worked to my advantage over these years, sir?"

Higgins clears his throat with a nod. "Yes, I know that, son. Our secret plot took decades to uncover and unfold while involving only a handful of folks. One person was Iredell, your Grandmother Balegreen. She didn't take a lot of convincing to role play role within our secret play. But she did take on a lot of responsible and risk, if something had gone badly wrong."

Iredell smiles at Cinco. "Nothing goes wrong with a smooth hand gun in both cupped palms, pointing at your enemy. Ain't that right, Cinco?"

Cinco nods with a chuckle. "You got that right, Grandmother!" Flamingo and Breck lean over and elbow each other, presenting a nod and a soft chuckle in agreement.

Higgins exhales. "Robert Earl was suspicious of everyone and more cautious of everything. He was better than a professional thief or a cold-blooded murderer. He married his first wife, right out of high school, bringing a child into the world nine months later. Darrel originally was birthed and lived in the rural town of Balegreen, within the US State of Alabama. Have you heard of that small town?"

"Naw." Breck frowns.

He nods. "The township of Balegreen is a railroad town with a pod of scattered individual tiny farms that raise corn and soy crops. The farmer literally drives his dirty farm tractor with all the corn stalks directly towards a row of corn binds and then dumps the harvested crops right down into a railway carriage. That's how each small-time farmer makes their household income and money for food, clothes, and shelter. Robert Earl learned to hate the farm, the farm life, and the farm people. He was smart, thou. He had received an academic scholarship to Burn U and receives good grades which had produced more academic scholarships. He had continued to receive more good grades and finally was working on a doctorate degree in engineering. Then, he accidentally met and purposefully married Iredell. He was a smart dog. He learned and researched the McCory name and the unique McCory resources."

Flamingo rolls his eyes and then looks back with a frown at the general. "Any dumbass knows about the first family of Bama, the McCory clan."

"Thanks for contributing to the conversation, my smart-ass grandson!" Iredell smiles.

Higgins points with a chuckle at Flamingo. "You are the spitting image of your smart-ass father along with his biting tiger personality, son. Breck continuously injected his smart-ass remarks during each one of my social lectures. Keep up the good work, son!" He laughs. "Robert Earl got a quickie divorce from the first wife then he married his new bride. During all his yesteryears, Robert Earl used Iredell and her money to feed, house, and cloth his only biological child, a son. We will call Darrel. Then Robert Earl plotted to leave his second wife Iredell, when he successfully felt comfortable with his own stolen set of money finances. Well, I guess fate had intervened once again. Darrel had gotten a young female pregnant producing his only child, a daughter. We should name Lacey. So, Robert Earl needed more of Iredell's money to feed, house, and cloth his only biological grandchild."

"Did you know any of this unrelated and secret information, Grandmother?" Flamingo nods.

Iredell nods. "Yes, I did. But then, the situation became very complicated."

Higgins nods with a stern face. "The new situation became very, very complicated. Robert Earl was stealing and stocking Iredell's money for his early retirement from his work job, planning to leave his second wife Iredell and providing a pretty good living for his person, his son, and his granddaughter. When..."

".. Loser Lacey came along..." Flamingo shakes his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap and wears a sour frown.

"The granddaughter, who was named Lacey, had learned about the second wife of Robert Earl and his luxury life here in the small cow town of Lacy Springs. About the same time, A.J. had received knowledge regarding the modified solider identity on the person that we have called Darrel. The father and the daughter were living a nice life coming from all of Iredell's stolen money. They stayed in a modest house there in rural township of Balegreen, where they had been tucked out of sight from a spying pair of eyeballs or a prying radar screen. When Lacey tumbled out of a pickup truck here in Lacy Springs High School parking lot, well then..."

Cinco chuckles, "Shit hit the fan."

"Iredell hit the panic button, propelling our planned plot into an emergency reaction," A.J. nods with a stern face and stares at each teen. "Since, Lacey had learned about the triplets."

Flamingo slaps his chest and gasps in alarm. "We, three were the three targets of interest."

Iredell sneers. "Yes, you are correct my smart-ass grandson. My three precious grandsons had been targeted by that bitch, who will be called Lacey."

"Golly." Breck gasps in alarm.

"Kiss my boot toes!" Cinco grits his teeth with a sneer.

Higgins nods with a stern face. "Darrel desired the money along with the Source while knowing he couldn't control the Source, unless he had the three Sons all underneath his thumb print. He used his biological child Lacey to trick, treat, and trap you, three boys. Robert Earl had arranged for Darrel to spy on Arie. Iredell had arranged for A.J. to spy on Robert Earl. And Darrel had arranged for Lacey to spy on the triplets."

"Is that like a triplet spy, spying three-ring circus, General?" Cinco smiles.

"Hush, Cinco!" Iredell frowns and nods to Arie. "I am sorry, Arie. I didn't you involved but..."

Arie wipes the wet tears from her worried face after learning too many good and evil truths about her husband, her former fiancé Darrel, and her three sons. She nods with a stern face. "You did the right thing, Mom. My three precious sons were the target of a dangerous madman along with their crazy kin. If I had known of any piece of this plot, I would have approved whole-heartedly. Thank you, Mom!"

"So, we just let the cast of character roll the pretend play into motion while watching it carefully with our own trusted resources." A.J. nods. "The end ended really well like we had planned."

Flamingo frowns. "Wait! Each one of you was spying, stalking, and stoking each one of us all along within your pretend horror movie film. Man, I feel like an ass."

"Naw, Flamingo." A.J. nods. "I, and the others not named, protected each one of your asses from the get-go. But we had to hide our ace in the hole, so to speak."

"The fake rescue. The fake wedding. The fake topo-morphological isolator." Cinco nods with a sour frown. "Well, I feel like jackass, too." He turns and sneers at Flamingo.

"No, Cinco." A.J. shakes his skull with a stern face. "I built the topo-morphological isolator and then I named it that silly description. Then I gave my silly creation to Robert Earl at work. That was my role within the pretend play. The machine only worked when you ran away like a fool on foot within an open grassy clearing. The indicator light would change from a solid red tint into a blinking green hue of light appearing like it was a functioning devise to find a hidden petroleum oil field or an underground tap of natural coal."

"You plan worked very well, A.J. I ran around with my head chopped like a dead chicken seeing the red light change into a green light. Now, I feel like a fucking fool." Cinco laughs.

A.J. smiles. "That's good to learn, Cinco. My tool was a working prop. I didn't really mean for you to test the isolator on the summit of Mohawk Patch. I purposefully had visited Robert Earl that morning inside his work office at Redstone Point to show him the yellow tinted paper map, which would direct him on where to test my tool. However, you, three brothers had interfered with my brilliant plans. Ya'll were damn entertaining as hell on top of that pink dome. What in the hell did Flamingo shoot on top of that pink stone, his foot?"

Breck exhales with frustration, "The fake girl. The fake kiss. The fake love." He looks down at his hand and softly groans with mental pain, "I feel like the third jackass in this room."

"Didn't feel bad, Breck." A.J. smiles, "I, too, have been duped many more times than you by a room full of hard bitches, with a set of soft body parts," he chuckles with the mature males.

"Just go with the flow, man!" Flamingo leans over with a smile and bumps into Breck.

A.J. exhales. "Each one of you have experienced what I like to call life, boys. There was a group of good and bad folks that played a set of good and bad roles in your short life for the past month. Every emotion, act, action, reaction, and feeling real. And all of it really happened to each one of us. We were dealing with some evil people here. We were all in danger, when we all reacted to a fake role while playing the best we could, without thanking the Lord above. Any one of us could have been injured. We all will continue to deal with more evil persons, maybe one is standing over there. Or one is sitting over yonder. This is a new life lesson that we all will share within each one of our lives as we care and love each other. That here is the most important lesson to learn, family," he smiles at Arie. She nods and smiles back at him.

Iredell smiles. "My life lesson is dedicated to my departed love now. The clan of Balegreen will be changing our sur-name back to the clan of McCory, who was truly the first family within the great State of Alabama," she slaps the book with a smile. "Next week, I'm hosting a grand party and inviting all the folks from Lacy Springs to come and celebrate our life and our happiness within our small community. So, I need for each one of you to meet me at the lawyer's office at eight o'clock sharp tomorrow morning to sign each one of the legal papers. How does that sound to your eardrums, Mr. Breck Freehurst McCory, the third and the fourth and the fifth?" The triplet brothers nod with a smile in silence to Iredell.

Iredell slaps the book in her lap and nods to each grandson in silence. Cinco, Flamingo, and Breck stand upright from the sofa, move ahead, then squats down surrounding their grandmother Iredell. She places the book on the floor as the triplets slowly study each black and white photograph with a set of mumbles at the picture of their true grandfather McCory.

Cinco looks up and grins at Iredell. "Can I be legalized and then called Cinco McCory, instead of Breck Freehurst McCory, the fifth, Grandmother?"

Iredell frowns down at her grandson. "Naw, boy! Only a true Breck Freehurst can run the McCory cow ranch. You're a McCory now and forever," she reaches over and hustles the hair strand on Cinco. Cinco nods with a smile in respect to his grandmother and her new family order, looking back down at the new black and white photograph of his grandparents.

From the sitting chair, A.J. slowly stands and leans down, pressing the creases in his faded blue jeans, swiftly standing upright with a smile and a pair of sweaty hands. He moves ahead, stops, and kneels one kneecap in front of Arie, who continues to sit on top of the sofa alone. He reaches out and grabs her hands with a smile, leaning over, whispering a set of secret words into her face. She pulls back with a smile and a nod in happy silence.

A.J. releases her hands and reaches down into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a four-carat diamond engagement ring, sliding the ring over her left hand onto her ring finger. He looks up and leans over, gently kissing her lips, pulling back with a smile.

On the other long sofa, Jarvis and Reese hug each other and hold hands with love too, smiling at the newly engaged couple, A.J. and Arie. Aurora and Moe gasp in shock and then smile at both A.J. and Arie.

A.J. assists Arie to stand from the long sofa, leaning over, pecking a light kiss on her smile. They emerge and wear a goofy grin, spinning around to face Iredell and her three sons, who continue to mumble and point down at the ancient photograph album. They slowly move ahead and stop, standing a few feet from the chair, Iredell, and her sons.

Jarvis, Reese, Aurora, and Moe, each one stands upright from the second sofa, quietly advances ahead with a smile and stops, standing a few feet from stationary A.J. and Arie.

Arie clears her throat and hugs A.J. smiling down at Iredell and her sons. "Mom, I will not be coming with you and my three sons to sign the set of legal papers at the lawyer's office at eight o'clock tomorrow morning."

Iredell continues to sit and stares down at each ancient photograph of her and her first husband, wiping off the sad tears of old memories. She clears her throat and softly voices. "I did not mean to insult you, Arie. But I really want to honor the old memory of my first husband and your deceased father-in-law Breck Freehurst McCory for the rest of my living days, not my second husband."

Arie extends her arm and as her diamond ring gleams underneath the overhead lamps. "Mom, I want to honor the McCory name, too, but in a different way. I guess. Since, I will be changing my sur-name to Bibb."

The triplet brothers look up from the album and then spin around, sounding with a stunned gasp staring at her glittering diamond ring, then their mother Arie, and finally A.J.

A.J. continues to sit and cuddle Arie, nodding with a smile to each teen.

Cinco stands first with a smile and advances to the couple, opening both of his arms.

A.J. releases Arie for the upcoming hugs and kisses from each family member, smiling at the love within the McCory family.

Cinco stops and hugs his mother, pulling back with a smile. "Mama, I'm so happy for you and A.J.!"

Breck stands next and dashes ahead toward Arie also, stopping and huddles with a hug with Arie, and Cinco, pulling back with a wink. "Mrs. Bibb."

"Mrs. A.J., now, that sounds best." Flamingo stands last, moves ahead, and stops, extending his hand to A.J., instead of a man-hug.

Each person shuffles around and shares a tight hug, a wet kiss, and a handshake to the newly engaged mature couple.

Cinco back steps from his grandfather with his fake smile then shoves Flamingo away from the semi-circular huddle of happiness, nodding ahead towards the kitchen for an escape plan from the adults.

Each adult will talk and plot and plan out the upcoming wedding ceremony of Arie and A.J. until the cows come back to the front pasture at dawn tomorrow morning.

Flamingo reaches out and shoves the back spine on Breck while signaling an escape plan from the belle parlor room. He spins around and dashes at the back spine on Cinco exiting the parlor room, through the entrance hall, running ahead towards the kitchen space.

Inside the kitchen setting, Cinco enters first and stops, raiding the food pantry, jerking out a set of snack items and places on top of the empty tray. He spins around with a grin and moves ahead, dropping the crowded food tray in the middle of the empty breakfast table, sliding down into an empty chair.

Flamingo and Breck enter the kitchen one at a time. Flamingo stops and slides down into an empty chair, reaching out with his grin, grabbing a handful of snacks. He tears open each package and consumes the food with his smirk in silence.

Breck veers ahead towards the refrigerator with his grin and stops, opening the door, leaning inside and studies the cold beverages. "Who is high school your sweetie that claims your undivided love, Flamingo?" He grabs an armful of cold beverages and spins around, moving ahead towards the breakfast table and then stops. He gently places each cold beverage on top of the hard surface with a smile, sliding down into an empty chair, grabbing a handful of snacks. He tears open each package and snaps open the cold beverage, chewing the food, staring at Flamingo.

Flamingo spits out his chewed food particles over his naked hand, the naked table, and his some of open snack packages, wearing his sour frown. "We, three rednecks just survived a kidnapping, an un-fun torture, and a girly blackmailed scheme by a bunch of asshole country hillside hillbillies. And all you wanna know is if I'm in love with a pretty chick."

Breck swallows the food. "Yeah, I do," he slurps the cold beverage and slams the bottle down onto the naked table, presenting with a smile.

Cinco laughs out his chewed food particles over his hand, the naked table, and part of Brecks' hand. "Brain Breck is really lost in outer space, tonight, Flamingo. Don't tell him nothing! Let him suffer with pain and surprise, like me and Mama," he opens and then slurps the cold beverage, slapping the bottle on top of the naked table, eating a mouthful of snacks. He chews with an open mouth for fun.

Breck swallows the food and then winks with a smile at Flamingo. "O! The pretty girl is a female in one of your AP classes. I didn't know a pretty girl existed in any of the AP classes. Who inside your class is pretty enough for your shallow beauty standard princess redneck? Since every ugly female is smart. All the pretty females are..."

"...smarter than Brian Breck. That's for damn shore." Cinco chews with an open mouth while laughing.

Flamingo pops open the bottle and then slurps down the cold beverage, without answering the question.

Breck stares at Flamingo. "The AP girl named Blanche. No, bro! She's a tenth grader and is way too young for you, Flamingo." Cinco continues to sit and chews the food staring at Flamingo. Flamingo continues to sit and chews the food staring at Breck. Breck smiles. "The AP girl is Ashley."

Cinco continues to sit and chews the food staring at Flamingo. Flamingo continues to sit and chews the food staring at Breck. Breck grins, "The AP girl is Tara."

Cinco continues to sit and chews the food staring at Flamingo. Flamingo continues to sit and chews the food staring at Breck. Breck gasps in shock. "The AP girl is Retardo Jean!"

"Naw, man! Grow a brain cell!" Flamingo winks to Cinco.

Breck is clueless about the prospect of sweet virgin Violet as a future wife for his smart brother Flamingo, because Flamingo plans to react with his pair of folded fists and his set of kicking boot toes at a nosey teen-ass Breck, if his brother causes any teen-ass trouble.

"Guess again, Brick Brain!" Cinco laughs and frowns at Flamingo. "Geez! Loser Lacey really scrambled up his neurons, Flamingo. I do believe that we need to find Breck a nasty whore for the next Saturday to relieve his set of strained and stressed tension of death."

"Fuck off, Cinco!" Breck turns and growls at the nose profile on Cinco. Breck is tense and uptight and does not want to be reminded of his death threat coming from his pretend grandfather that used to be named Robert Earl Balegreen.

Iredell enters the kitchen setting with her smile, stops, and stands in-between Cinco and Breck at the breakfast table. "Well, a happy ending is declared for all."

Cinco stands upright from his chair and scoots all his snacks and the open beverage towards an empty chair, allowing his grandmother to sit in his chair like a good southern beau.

She slides down with a smile and a nod to her grandson. "Thank you, Cinco!

Cinco sits down with a smile. "I'm really happy too. I finished my senior class research paper before the holiday deadline. And I received the letter grade of A-plus. My paper had been graded by..." he exhales. "Grandmother, can I keep the letter grade of A-plus?"

She nods with a smile. "Yes, you earned and deserved the letter grade of A-plus, Cinco. Congratulations!"

Cinco smiles. "Yeehaw! For the first time, within my fourteen years of schooling at Lacy Springs High, I will receive the letter grade of A-plus. Mama is going to be very proud and happy for me."

"And, me, too. I received the letter grade of A-plus, also. Isn't that right, Grandmother?" Breck nods with a smile.

She nods with a smile, "Yes, Breck. Your academic grade has been approved by the Principal Marshall, too. Flamingo, you still have an outstanding senior research paper to complete for eighty-five percent of your combined academic courses within your AP studies."

Flamingo stares down at his open beverage which is becoming warmer inside both of heated hands while pondering a set of other mental thoughts, which does not include his senior class research paper. "Did you, A.J., and your troop of devoted warriors with an individual hand gun really, really...?"

Cinco turns and frowns at Iredell. "Look! I don't wanna know the truth or the fact or the false, Grandmother. I want to look at the future for all of us as we are newly designated as a McCory, not a Balegreen anymore. I do believe that is a great start of a new family life for the lot of us, rednecks."

Iredell nods with a stern face. "And I agree with Cinco. This is a great place to be and stay while never looking backwards. Flamingo, now, I am your new school sponsor for an obvious reason. I have thought about your required senior research paper. So, I would like for you to write me a ten-page academic report on the subject of gold."

Flamingo looks up with a smile and nods a couple of time with happiness with the easy academic assignment which guarantees his perfect grade point average of A-plus and a spot with the other thirteen valedictorians at the speaker podium on graduation night.

Cinco smiles. "A happy ending for everyone! And Flamingo gets to write, like a fourth grader, his senior research report and still will graduate the top of his class next month in May. Yeehaw!" He turns and smiles at his grandmother. "So, was that colorful geographical map a fake, too, Grandmother? You did a good job drawing all of these little tiny letter X's for each tree and the tiny letter of O for the pond water." He finishes the beverage and then burps out loud.

She shakes her curls with a smile, "No, sweetheart. That yellow tinted paper map is quite real, Cinco. I found it a long, long time ago. Well, I found it inside my father's personal journey. I had used and planted the paper map with A.J., who had allowed Darrel to find it. However, a gang of three teen snot-holes had become too tomcat curious and then had totally interfered with my brilliant plot," she smiles at her three grandsons. "A.J. and General Higgins had plotted and planned that special geographical grassy clearing, where they would have claimed and then captured Darrel alive, before we had buried his broken bones along the cold mountain cliff."

The three teens nod with a smile as the true plot had been carried out by their grandmother and their new future step-father A.J. Bibb.

Flamingo jabs her finger and winks at Breck. "O! That was Brick Brain over there. He was tomcat curious and fucked up your brilliant idea, Grandmother," he laughs with Cinco.

"Smart-ass brother, why do I need one? He ain't good for nothing but tattle-tailing on their older and smarter kin." Breck snarls at Flamingo during his bad mood, after learning about too many lies, broken promises, and one real death threat on all his loving family members, the real McCory clan.

"O! So, there isn't a small sack of gold nuggets for the future three triplet millionaires. Shoot me dead! Flamingo is right, like always." Cinco smiles and holds the cold beverage between his palms.

Flamingo smiles with a nod, "Right-o, man!"

Iredell smiles, "There is an ancient grave site with a stack of dead horse bones from that barn fire at the Birmingham University that killed a horse, who was named Mohawk. The dead horse belonged to your great, great, great, great Granddaddy McCory just like the ancient story reads inside your Alabama History book. And like written in the American History textbook, there was a robber of gold coins by a group of wild Indians here in Alabama also. However, no one today has ever found that cache of cash," she giggles.

Cinco smiles, "Flamingo, you should theorize about that lost gold which had been stolen from the US Federal Government that maybe hides and lies somewhere here around the Brindley Mountains. You would receive the letter grade of A-plus. Ain't that right, Grandmother McCory? It's a funny sounding new name, our new last name. Breck Freehurst McCory, the fifth."

She smiles. "You'll get used to it, dear. And Flamingo, you might be interested in knowing that one of many theorizes circling around that lost Bama gold comes from the lips of a surviving Civil War solider, who was named McCory. After the Battle of Mohawk Patch, he stumbled back home to his worthless cotton plantation, wearing a pair of bloody cowboy boots with both arms full of gold bars. But then, that there is only an ancient rumor, boys." She slowly stands upright from the chair with a smile, silently thanking Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all her heavenly angels for each live and smile on her three precious grandsons. "But that Native American Indian gold has never been found or claimed or nothing." She nods. "Good night, boys. O! You can sleep late in the morning for your senior advisor-ship class which will be held at my house. Then, come on over about noontime for the lunch meal. Then, me and ya'll will go quail hunting for our nightly supper with Arie and A.J. How does that sound to you, boys?" She swings around with a smile and slowly exits the kitchen stomping her worn cowgirl boots down an empty hallway.

At the breakfast table, Breck smiles at Flamingo. "Golly!"

Flamingo turns and smiles at Cinco, "Hot damn!"

Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and wears a smile, staring at his two brothers, "Yeehaw!"
Monday September 29th

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunshine

01:01 pm

Mohawk Patch location

The first terrain vehicle slowly bounces up and down over each exposed tree root and then slowly steers around the outer rough edge on the pink tinted mountain, which is called Mohawk Patch. The vehicle steers ahead every fallen tree branch, each pile of tan colored boulders, a grove of tall trees, clumps of wet pine needles, rows of low-bearing green tinted fruit and plant bushes, berries and then passes the fresh water pond heading towards a small clearing. The small clearing is devoid of trees, low shrubs, and patches of colorful wildflowers and is called the midden.

A midden was an ancient trash pile used by a tribe of Native American Indians. They camped here and hunted for food here. The midden was originally covered with green leaves, red dirt, and tan rocks, human bones, and other discarded trash items from the natives. However, numerous heavy Alabama thunderstorms had washed most of the original contents away from the midden leaving a rounded mound of dirt, dead leaves, and dead tree limbs.

The driver inside the first terrain vehicle is Breck wearing an ancient short-sleeved white-tinted tee shirt, a pair of faded and slightly ripped blue jeans, a pair of ancient unpolished brown tinted cowboy boots, and a blue tinted cowboy hat. He stops several feet from the midden, an elevated mound of grayish-black dead leaves and dead gray tinted tree twigs and kills the engine.

The next terrain vehicle driver is Flamingo, who follows the rear bump on Breck and then stops beside the first vehicle, killing the engine. He wears a pair of faded, ripped blue jeans, an ancient and slightly ripped blue-tinted tee shirt with a string of vile words on his chest, and a pair of ancient unpolished brown tinted cowboy boots

The last terrain vehicle is driven by Cinco, who follows the rear bumper on Flamingo, and then slides to a halt over the dry grass, killing the engine. He wears a pair of faded and ripped black tinted jeans, a pair of old black tinted biker boots, a dirty and slightly ripped, white-tinted tee shirt, and a pair of dark-tinted sunglasses.

Three hours ago, the triplet brothers finished the quail hunting fun adventure with their Grandmother McCory, leaving her at the McCory Cow Ranch house. She is working with the house staff members skinning and then cooking the tender white meat on each dead tiny fowl for the evening meal.

Arie and A.J. left the house, after an early breakfast meal, this morning driving north towards the city of Athens, visiting with his parents and announcing the good news of an upcoming wedding ceremony. After the fun visit with the future new in-laws, Arie and A.J. will board a rented private business jet airplane in Huntsville and then fly towards one of the islands in the Caribbean. The pair had greatly desired to get away from the terrible events here in Lacy Springs which originally marred their initial introduction.

Then they will create a new set of fun events that will kick start their new life together, before their upcoming wedding ceremony here in Lacy Springs, where A.J. will live with Arie at the McCory Cow Ranch.

Here in Lacy Springs, the McCory triplet brothers are under the loving care, wise guidance, and watchful eyeball supervision from their Grandmother Iredell McCory. Iredell also greatly desires to purge her set of recent terrible memories and has found a new therapy that will challenge her active mind and body, her three grandsons.

Iredell give permission for her triplet grandsons to pursue the treasure hunt at Mohawk Patch. Honestly, she heard the rumor from her father as a child, but never been curious or intrigued with the ancient tale. However, the myth of lost Confederate gold coins has given the triplets something to focus their wild imagination and unlimited energy, before they eventually graduate from high school and leave the nest to chase their dreams.

At the Mohawk Patch location and the nasty midden mound, a tall, pink tinted mountain stands behind the rear bumper on each stationary terrain vehicle.

Both Flamingo and Breck continues to sit inside their individual terrain vehicle and whips their personal mobile telephone, swishing the tiny screen, reading each text message from both their friends and family members.

Cinco slides out from the third terrain vehicle and stands on top of the dry grass, swinging around, pulling out a tool from the secured tool box, which is bolted down on the floor. He stands upright and spins around with a smile, moving ahead towards the elevated ground, where the midden stationary dirt contains an array of shallow holes, numerous ripped up lumps of red soil, and scattered dead tree leaves. He stops and stands in the middle on the elevated mound, slamming the pick axe tip down into the solid hard ground of red clay dirt, exhaling with a heavy grunt, working up a sweat while finding the treasure chest first and digs deeply down into the hidden grave site.

Inside the first terrain vehicle, Breck slides out from the seat with a sigh and stores his mobile telephone down inside the pocket on his blue jeans, reaching over, grabbing the shovel. He moves ahead with a stern face and looks up to see the bright sunshine and stops, standing on the opposite side of Cinco. He leans down and stabs the shovel tip down into the dirt, tossing the loose dirt to the side, exhaling with the tense physical exercise. "We're going to wish we could have flown out one of these mini-construction diggers here to clear out this mound of solid clay dirt."

Cinco continues to dig with a grunt. "Exercise is good for the soul. Put your back into the job, Breck! Then we, three will be done before the sunset."

"We three better be back home before the sunset drops into the ground per Grandmother McCory's order." Breck continues to dig with a stern face.

Inside the third terrain vehicle, Flamingo slides out and pockets his mobile telephone down into his blue jeans, leaning behind the driver's seat, pulling out a shovel. He spins around and moves ahead towards the red dirt mound, stops, and stands on the opposite side of Cinco, who stands in the middle. Flamingo leans down and stabs the dirt, exhaling with a heavy grunt of manual work.

Two hours later, at 03:03 pm, within the heated day of bright sunlight, the triplet brothers stop the manual work and take a food break. Cinco sits down on top of the grass, pulling out snacks and beverages from his ratty backpack, consuming the food items in silence.

Breck also drops down to rest on the ground and eats food from his own ratty backpack in silence too.

Flamingo sits on top of flat tree stump and reads the ancient information from his mobile telephone. "On the ninth day, in the month of April, in the year 1865, the last Civil War battle rages between muskets and gun power of Union blues and Confederate grays on a small woodland plot of land called Mohawk Patch. At the same instance in time, General Robert E. Lee resides in the city of Appomattox, within the US State of Virginia, surrendering his rebel troops to Union Yankee General Ulysses S. Grant. The Mohawk Patch fierce battle fight becomes lost forever inside the American History books, since the historical Civil War surrender by General Lee renders it silently moot among each academic mind from every authentic Civil War historian along with a surviving solider from the bloody bout who was named McCory. Soldier McCory carried the true war tale down into his grave site in the year 1909. The Brindlee Mountain range, which is an isolated part of the Alabama foothills, houses an extremely high summit tabletop tip from the geographical landscape in Morgan County, not Madison County. The tabletop summit is marked by a unique geological creation of sandstone cap-rock overlying a layer of limestone rock in the bright color of candy pink. Mohawk Patch lies below the mountain range within the green valley of white lilies, colorful wildflowers, tall shade trees, a fresh water fishing pond, and three boys digging through a former grave of a dead race horse," he laughs with his two brothers.

Flamingo sips the cold beverage and then reads out loud again. "Listen up! The legend of the lost gold here in the Mohawk Patch states. In the month of December, in the year of 1862, Colonel Joseph Sanders was on his way to the city of Birmingham to main and then murder and whatever with a skeleton crew of Confederate soldiers. The treasure was destined for the Confederate Treasury in the city of Richmond, within the US State of Virginia, in year 1862. However, the wagon with six wooden crates of gold never reached its destination. The treasure consists of golden coins and golden bars worth about one hundred thousand dollars US, in the year 1862, which is buried somewhere within the Brindlee Mountain range inside numerous wooden crates. A wooden crate was a common storage tub during the Civil War. The lost wooden crate measured two feet by three feet by four feet. The wooden crate was buried by a group of Union soldiers hiding it away from the Confederacy soldiers." He wears a sweaty face while searching the internet for any additional clue for finding the hidden lost crates of gold coins and bars. "We can fly one of those mini-diggers out here, if you wanna go and call our mama and explain why we're plowing up the pretty landscape between the Brindlee Mountain Range. She'll love to know and love to help, once we explain that we're hunting for the lost gold that a troop of Confederate soldiers lost, a long time dead now."

Cinco stands upright from the ground and returns to digging out the dirt on top of the horse grave, staring down at the hole. "Mama doesn't know that."

Flamingo continues to sit and studies the screen on his mobile telephone. "Mama doesn't know, and Cinco doesn't know, and Breck doesn't know, only our Grandmother McCory knows. We are out here not having fun. Iredell had told, tricked, and trapped us into finding the lost crates of gold coins and silver bars."

Breck stands upright from the grass and returns to digging out the dirt shoveling a pile of dirt to the side, exhaling with a loud grunt. "Isn't this part of your senior research paper, Flamingo?"

Flamingo looks up and smiles at Breck. "I completed my senior research paper..."

"How, bro!" Breck looks up and frowns at Flamingo. "How did you complete a senior research paper, last night?"

Flamingo laughs. "Actually, I stayed up until midnight and worked on my fourth-grade paper with the kiddie topic of gold. I was too hyped, wired, and keyed to sleep, after what happened to us and our mama and our grandmother and all of them, yesterday. So, I spent my free time at my student desk and focused my brain on something productive. I wrote, edited, and finished my research paper, last night. Then, I emailed my research paper to my senior advisor, this morning, at seven o'clock. Grandmother McCory quickly read it and sent me back the alphabetic letter grade of A, like always. Now, my senior research paper is done. Now, we're out here looking for our golden opportunity and rich fortune."

Cinco looks up and frowns at Flamingo. "We have money fortune. Mama has a trust fund for the each of us, once we attend and finish college, her only demand, command, voice, word, request. And I wanna find some gold nuggets to share and show Doyle and Yancy..."

"Geez!" Flamingo rolls the eyeballs and then looks back at Cinco, shaking his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap, where some of his blonde locks are still hidden underneath the dirty fabric. "You're thinking like a ten-year-old kid, Cinco. We're almost a set of mature adults. We concentrate on our prosperous futures. If we happened to find the lost treasury chest of gold coins that had been stolen from President Lincoln, then we'll become a trio of famous, rich, and popular teens. The pretty and popular people receive all the great opportunities in life..."

Breck stops tossing a shovel of dirt and looks up with a sour frown to see Flamingo, "Famous, rich, and popular! I wanna become the family lawyer that take care of our family business here on McCory Farms. I wanna be here and not any other place in the damn world, Flamingo. There is plenty of opportunity right here which is called helping out our mama and taking over the farming stuff, so our mama can retire and spend the rest of her free time with A.J., Flamingo."

Flamingo nods. "Yeah, I agree, too. But we just want through hell with an unnamed dead him and unnamed dead her. I don't wanna catch with my blue jean pockets down and expose my clean white underdrawers while my ass is dragging through the red mud again. So, we gotta take and grab on every opportunity that knocks at the front door from life that tosses and sometimes strangles at your throat for all the right reasons. Think it, Breck! If we happen to find one single bar of solid gold, then we could open a trading post. Or better yet, we could open an adventure trail coming right here exploring the openness of the wilderness like the pioneers of yesteryears like our great-whatever-power grandfather McCory. We can save the past..."

"...by tromping and stomping all over Mother Nature," Breck frowns. "Naw. I don't like your illogic of human events. What in tarnation for money or glory or fame or opportunity? Think it, Flamingo! Our mama is rich. She's a billionaire, Flamingo. We got money up our ass all the way sticking outta of our outie-shaped belly button. However, we do not have a closet or room or a wing of trustworthy people, who are safeguarding our individual futures, once our mama retires. This is the reason we, three are attending college and learning a useful trade. I have chosen to become a lawyer handling all the money. Cinco has chosen to become a veterinarian taking care of the livestock. You are going to become a physician..."

"...solving the cure for cancer and curing all the sick little kids. We gotta dream big and bigger, Breck. Yeah, our future here in Lacy Springs is like a given point in mathematical geometry. We each know where we came from and what we are going to do and be. I wanna be more and do more for our daddy, our mama, our grandparents, our neighbors, our town, our state, our country, our world..."

"Naw!" Breck looks down and starts tossing the shovel of dirt again while shaking his cowboy hat, "I wanna be here trying to be a good son to our mama and a good grandson to our grandparents. I got enough on my mind and my plate without looking for more opportunities of chance or luck or life."

Cinco frowns. "Flamingo, I'm glad you wanna find a cure for cancer, but I agree with Breck. Our first and primary obligation starting with another capital letter O is here at home base. Once, you have healed all the sick folks here in Lacy Springs. Then you can start saving the rest of the world, one boot heel at a time," he shakes his curls and looks down with a sour frown, studying the hole.

The mobile telephone alerts the scheduled appointment sounding a set of low deep dongs. Flamingo looks down and swishes off the red button, saying with a smile. "I gotta go, ya'll."

Breck stops digging and looks up with a frown to view Flamingo. "Where are you going, bro? We haven't hit rock, only dirt and tons of tree roots. There's lots of work to be done here, before we hit gold," he laughs alone.

Flamingo slowly stands upright from the flat tree stump and wipes down part of the dirt from his clothing, saying with a smile to Breck. "I'm going to Violet's birthday party. She is born underneath the sign of Virgo, the virgin," he spins around with a chuckle and moves ahead to his terrain vehicle.

Breck slams the tip on the shovel down into the dirt and wears a confused brow. "I didn't get an invite to her birthday party this year. I always get an invitation to her birthday party each year. I always attend her great birthday party, every year. I wonder why I didn't get an invite to her birthday party this year also. Violet always has a big blow birthday party each year given by her parents."

Cinco stares and smiles at the back spine on Flamingo. "What are you giving her as a birthday present?"

Flamingo spins around with a wink and slaps his dirty shirt, slowly moving backwards. "Me!"

Cinco laughs with a nod. "That's a great birthday gift."

Breck leans onto the shovel with a puzzled brow. "If Violet is a Virgo, then she is born in the month of September. However, if I am not mistaken, and I am not mistaken, today, in the month of September, is the date of twenty-ninth."

"I know that, Breck." Flamingo frowns.

Breck frowns. "You should wait until your marriage honeymoon to fuck your virgin bride, Flamingo. I would do that."

Flamingo jabs a finger and a smile at Breck. "Look over there! Who's giving me sucky love advice, king-whore of cow town Lacy Springs?"

Cinco turns and frowns at Breck. "Why should Flamingo wait to show his love to his girl? Violet is his girl. Don't you remember that teenly fact, Breck? Flamingo won her fair and square during the non-physical duel fight on Saturday night," he laughs with a nod.

Breck rests on top of the shovel handle. "I'm just saying. Violet is a wonderful prize. You should wait as a southern gentleman for your virgin bride on your legally married wedding day from your expensive wedding given by our mama."

Flamingo frowns. "Violet is a human, not a prize, Brick Brain. I'm in love with a human, not a thing, Breck. You should learn to identify the major human differences," he spins around with a smile and moves ahead towards his terrain vehicle again.

Cinco turns and chuckles at Breck." Breck is pissed off, because Flamingo has corralled and then cuddled the last virgin there at Lacy Springs High."

"I am not," Breck turns and sneers at Cinco.

Cinco jabs a dirty finger and a nod at him. "You are so."

"Don't care," Breck looks down with a stern face and starts shoveling more of the dirt on top of the grave site.

"Do care." Cinco shakes his sweaty brow. "Go for it, Flamingo! Stake your claim, before another redneck beats you to it. Girls like Violet are indeed rare and valuable for guys like Breck. Bye, Flamingo. O! Don't worry, Breck. There's one more. Violet is not the last virgin at LSH."

Breck gasps and turns to see Cinco. "Who? Who's the last virgin at LSH?"

Flamingo spins around with a sneer and swiftly dashes ahead, shoving Cinco away from the deep hole into the line of tall shade trees. "How do you know that information?"

Breck leans into the shovel and stares with a smile at Cinco. "Who is the last virgin at Lacy Springs High, Cinco?"

Flamingo swings around and races ahead shoving Breck backwards into a different line of shade trees, jabbing his finger into Breck's face. "Stay away from her, Breck! I'll beat your ass first and then your face last," he spins around with a sneer and moves ahead back toward his terrain vehicle.

Cinco laughs and jabs his finger into Flamingo skull. "He means it, Breck Brain. Stay away from her!"

Breck turns and frowns at the butt-hole on Flamingo. "You better be home at midnight, Flamingo. That's still your teenly curfew while living under our mama's rooftop."

Flamingo waves his arm in the air and smiles. "I'll be home at stroke of dong," he laughs and swiftly jogs ahead towards his terrain vehicle for home.

Two hours later...

07:05 pm

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

McCory Cow Ranch location

home of Arie Dunlap Balegreen McCory

(Four miles, northeast, from Highway 231)

Bedroom setting of seventeen-year-old Flamingo

Flamingo stands in front of the full-length mirror inside his private bedroom, appearing both cleaned and dressed. He wears his familiar pair of green, beige, and black colored camouflage cargo pants that drop down below each kneecap, his familiar nasty pair of dirty flip flops, and a solid black shirt without a curse word for the love of Violet.

He brushes the short-cropped hair, studying the reflection and then slides on the nasty ass-backwards baseball cap over the blonde hair roots. The cap nicely covers his scalp. His curls had been sliced off, after upsetting his mother as an active asshole teenager toward the unnamed dead male. Flamingo removes the baseball cap brushing the hair again and studies the reflection, "Naw! I look just like Breck," he chuckles. "Because, we come from the same zygote, which means we are similar to a trio of identical puppies from the same litter basket," he laughs and replaces the cap with a nod. "Now, I look like Flamingo, the middle child of the triplets. Yeah, I am the man for Violet. Yeah, I am the local redneck for the belle," he swings around to face the wall, flip flopping towards the side table. He gathers his wallet, car keys, and mobile telephone. "I like fucking in my cap too." The mobile telephone pings with a new text message.

He stops and views the screen: **Come to the Lacy Springs Hotel. Love and kisses, your girl, Violet.**

He chuckles. "Her party is located at the Lacy Springs Hotel. Breck said that she gave a big blow out birthday part. I've never been to her party." He exits his bedroom and moves down the staircase. "I gotta mention to my mama about celebrating our next set of three birthdays at a hotel, too. Tonight, the hotel is convenient with my virgin princess. I'll book us a room at the palace for the king. She's going to rule as my queen tonight," he exits the kitchen door for his sports car.

Hot temperatures with dull moonlight and dull stars

Lacy Springs Hotel location

07:17 pm

Parking lot setting

Flamingo parks his sports car away from the entrance doors down the lane between a pair of tall pick-up trucks. His older nosy brother Breck might accidentally spot the familiar sports car during one of his illegal spying tours.

Cinco had promised Flamingo that he would babysit a nosy teen-ass Breck for the evening ensuring both Flamingo and Violet some fun privacy.

Flamingo kills the engine and then hears the ping of a new text message on his mobile telephone. He looks down and views the screen: **Where are you? Love and kisses, Violet.**

He texts: **In the parking lot of the hotel.**

She texts: **I left an envelope for you at the registration desk. Go there first.**

He texts: **Okay.**

He slides out the car with a chuckle and locks the door, pocketing the mobile telephone and his car keys, strutting ahead towards the entrance doors at the hotel.

Violet and Flamingo met at this specific hotel building during the Mint Julep Charity Ball, last Saturday night, when she had been bid and then won by Breck during that evil slave action event. Flamingo followed and found Breck inside one of the rented hotel rooms, charging in for the rescue, saving the southern belle. Violet was grateful for the manly rescue and then selected Flamingo over Breck as her life time southern beau and future husband.

Tonight, Violet and Flamingo will make a new beautiful musical song, not coming from the television plasma radio station, during her first fuck as a virgin.

Flamingo stands outside the entrance glass door and looks up with a smile and a whisper while viewing heaven. "Thank you so much!" He looks down and enters the hotel, wearing a smile.

At 07:21 pm at the registration desk, Flamingo parks his naked elbow on top of the white marble counter while smiling at young pretty girl, who is older than his seventeen years of life. "Hi there, sweetheart!"

She looks up from the computer console and smiles at Flamingo. "Good evening, sir. How can I assist you this evening?"

"My name is Breck Freehurst McCory, the fourth. Do you have an envelope waiting for me inside one of the slotted mail boxes by chance?" He nods with nervousness inside a posh hotel with Violet about to do the "wild thing" for the first thing with a virgin teen.

She swings around to face a wall of tiny boxes and scans each one, spinning around with a stern face to see Flamingo. "No sir!"

He gasps and then exhales. "O! I am sorry. Could you please view again for an envelope for Flamingo McCory?"

She turns around again to face the wall of boxes, scans, and then spins around to see Flamingo. "No sir!"

He smiles. "I'm sorry. Could you please check an envelope for Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fourth?"

She turns around again to face the wall without success. "I do not have a package with that name, sir." The clerk swings around with fury to see Flamingo. "Is this a joke, sir? Are you a guest here at the hotel for the day?"

He raises his palm and smiles. "This is no joke, miss. I promise. Is there an envelope for Flamingo McCory?"

She swings around with a frown to face the wall of open boxes. "No."

"Flamingo Balegreen."

She scans each open box with a nod. "Yes. I do have a sealed envelope for a Flamingo Balegreen," she spins around with a stern face and wiggles the envelope in the air. "Are you really the person named Flamingo Balegreen?"

"Yes, I am." He smiles. She slides the envelope over the marble counter with a stern face in silence. Flamingo accepts the envelope with a smile, "Thanks kindly! And I'm also looking for the Violet party conference room number please."

She checks the computer screen with a frown. "No. I do not have a party under that name. Is it under another name? Since you do not seem to remember the correct sur-name tonight, sir."

He views the floor and looks up with a smile to see the clerk. "I'm so sorry. I received only a few bits of information. Is there a big blow-out birthday party here tonight inside one of the reserved ball rooms?"

She checks the computer screen again and then looks up with a worried brow to see Flamingo. "No sir! I do not have any social event here tonight. Do you have the correct hotel?"

Flamingo raises the envelope and says with a nod and a smile. "Yes, I do. Thanks for your precious time!" He back steps from the registration counter and scans the lobby. Empty! He views the envelope number 1203 and then opens the flap, seeing a hotel key, looking up to see the clerk again. "Excuse for your time once more. The envelope reads the number 1203 with a hotel key."

She looks up and then exhales with annoyance. "This hotel has twelve floors. You are holding a hotel key for one of three penthouse suites which is located on the twelfth floor, specifically room 1203. Are you certain that you are supposed to have that hotel key, sir?"

He nods with a chuckle of nervousness. "Yes, someone is expecting my visit. Yes, I am expected tonight. Thanks, again!" He back steps from the counter and spins around, dashing ahead towards the set of closed elevator doors, wearing with a smile. He reaches out and punches the button several times with nervousness. Violet is waiting inside the hotel room 1203 for their first fuck. He whispers for his eardrums only. "I missed her birthday party. Damn! And I didn't bring her a birthday present either," he chuckles, "O wait! Yes, I did. It's me." He presses the button again with laughter.

The elevator door slides open.

He enters and slides over the floor pressing the button for the twelfth floor.

The doors close shut. The carriage lifts upwards with silence speed.

At 07:29 pm, on the 12th floor penthouse suite level, the elevator carriage stops. The doors glide open.

Flamingo steps out and turns with a grin in the correct direction, slowly strolling down an empty hallway and then stops in front of the metal door that reads 1203. He quickly inserts the key hotel into the vetted slot as the door cracks open. He smiles and swings the door open, shouting out loud, entering the new room. "Your birthday present has arrived, my lovely virgin princess. Happy birthday, my southern belle!" He chuckles with his evil thoughts.

Violet stands at the forward wall of glass windows wearing a tight fitting, ankle-length pink tinted dress flowing from her waist down towards the carpet. Her naked shoulders glow from an off-the shoulder necklace with a string of pearls suffocating her throat. A pair of pearl earrings hugs her earlobes and a curved hairband of pearls arches across her skull.

He stops with a chuckle between the closed doors of the bathroom and the wardrobe closet. "You look beautiful, my princess belle," he bows his arms for a hug.

They pace toward each other and then halt in front of the queen-sized bed mattress with a set of unfolded bed covers in the color of gold and white. Two red roses kiss each king-sized golden and white stripped pillow case.

He turns and smiles at bed and then views her with a wink. She giggles and blushes in pink. He taps her nose for fun and then cuddles Violet, leaning over, pecking her forehead, nose tip, each cheekbone, and finally then her two pink tinted lips. He moans with pleasure when she groans with nervousness. They pull back from the kiss with a smile.

"Allow me to provide a short and sweet grand tour of our luxury suite, sir," she back steps and holds his hand moving ahead towards the open balcony doors and then stops in front of the boiling water inside a hot tub on top of the balcony floor. "The action, before the action." She moves ahead and cuddles Flamingo, slowly spinning and stroll back towards the bed mattress and then stops. "Then I'll give you my new strip tease act for our first time and many more times," she giggles.

He plops down on top the neat bed covers and twirls down onto his stomach muscles, bending both of his elbows in an upright pose with a smile, facing Violet.

She back steps from Flamingo and slowly whirls in a full circle while smiling and winking at him. She stands in place lifting her ankle-length gown showing off a pair of matching pink tinted fashion high heeled sandals, kicking one off her naked foot.

He watches her with a smile. "I'm sorry. I missed your birthday party. I didn't know it had finished."

She shimmies and shakes her body for Flamingo, saying with a giggle. "No. You didn't. I have a private birthday party with only my parents this year," she kicks the other sandal off her foot.

He slides off the bed and moves ahead towards her, placing his warm hands around her clothed body.

She giggles. "Breck, I mean, Flamingo. Can you unzip my dress? It goes way down my back spine. I can't reach the zipper without looking all funny and unladylike in front of my man," she spins around and shows her back spine to Flamingo.

He reaches out and slowly unzips the metal licking his lips in anticipation of his tongue touching her naked back spine too. She wiggles side to side while feeling the cold air on her naked back spine and then spins around, slowly sliding the dress down her shoulders, wearing a smile too.

He views with a puzzled brow a tub of bottled beer on top of the side table, then the balcony boiling water inside the hot tub, a cold pail of chilled champagne, and then finally Violet. "How did you con your parents into paying for this room? This is a penthouse suite here at the Lacy Springs Hotel."

She drops one shoulder and looks back with a wink and a giggle to see Flamingo. "I didn't. I paid for the room."

He frowns at Violet. "This is a penthouse suite on the top floor which is priced about..."

"One thousand dollars-per-night, sugar!" She blows an invisible kiss into his face. "The suite is just for me and you, all night long," she twirls around and exposes her naked collar bones.

"One thousand dollar-per-night, how can you afford a one-thousand-dollar room hotel suite? Did you pay in cash?"

She smiles. "I used a credit card, silly boy. I don't carry that much cash money on me."

He frowns. "A credit card, did you use your daddy's credit card for this one-thousand-dollar hotel penthouse suite?"

She lifts the dress and show off her naked leg, saying with a giggle, "Naw. I used my credit card."

He scratches his whiskers with a puzzled brow. "Your credit card has a one-thousand-dollar money limit. My credit card has only five-hundred-dollar limit. I would have beg, borrow, or steal my mama's personal card, if I needed that much cash for a single purchase. Wait! How did get the tub of cold beer bottles and a pail of chilled champagne? Those are alcoholic beverages. Teens can't purchase an alcoholic drink for any reason. The legal age is twenty-one years of old in the State of Alabama."

She winks and shakes her collar bones. "Silly boy, the tub of beer and pail of champagne comes with the honeymoon suite, when I paid for the room."

Flamingo gasps. "The hotel clerk didn't check your driver's license."

"Naw!"

"I don't understand. How can you rent a honeymoon suite?"

"I rented the honeymoon suite with my credit card."

He views his wrist watch. "Wait! How can you be here inside this room alone? Will your parents call on your mobile telephone looking for your lost whereabouts again? It's close to eight o'clock at night here in Lacy Springs. Where are your parents?"

She rolls her eyeballs and then smiles at him, "Geez! Are you going to ask ten thousand questions all night long? Or are we going to..."

"Where are your parents, Violet?" he views the entrance door. "Are they sleeping here tonight too?"

She shakes her curls. "No. I had a family birthday party with all of blood relatives, including my uncles, aunts, cousins, and grandparents. My elderly grandma lives in the city of Huntsville within an assisted living home. My parents drove up to get her and drove back to take her home. She doesn't like staying with my parents. She needs all her personal medication. So, my parents will not be back home very, very late, after midnight."

He returns and frowns at Violet. "My curfew is at midnight too. I have to be home or I turn into a turnip," he chuckles. "Is your curfew at midnight too?"

"No. I'm going home, after we sweat and blood over the set of clean sheets on the bed. But I'll be shore that my little boy is home, before he turns into a turnip," she winks and giggles.

"So, we have the room all night for ourselves."

"Yeah."

He turns and scans the room and then her. "I still don't understand, Violet. How can you afford to pay for a room with a bucket of beer bottles and a pail of chilled champagne, without the permission of your parents?"

"They don't know I rented the room."

He gasps. "But then, they'll see the rent room fee on the next invoice from your personal credit card purchase tonight."

She smiles and shakes her hips, "Naw! They won't."

He nods. "Yeah, they will. Looky! I'll help pay for half the room. I can charge five hundred dollars on my credit card while explaining that it was your birthday gift. My mama will forgive me. She has a soft spot for her trio of future daughters-in-law. Hey! I might can get my mama to cover the entire one-thousand-dollar room fee with a really good lie."

She winks and wiggles her body. "I don't need for you to fib, Flamingo. I have money. I used the money to pay for the room. Don't worry. I got it covered, babe."

He shakes his hands and his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap. "Something ain't right here. You're telling me. Your parents are gone from here in Lacy Springs and they don't know about this room. Do you know about us?"

She giggles with a grin. "My mama hints that she likes you a lot, Flamingo. I hint that we're both going to Burn U at the same and together. I think she gets all the hints."

He nods. "Good! That's good! Where is your birthday party located inside the hotel?"

She exhales. "My official birthday party started on Tuesday morning and ended at midnight, last week. Last Tuesday was the twenty-second of September."

"What?" He looks down with a gasp and views his designer wrist watch looking up with confusion to see Violet.

She nods with a smile. "Yeah, I had a small private birthday party with my parents and my grandparents."

He frowns. "But you usually have a great big blow out birthday party every year."

"Well, I used too. But this year, my day of my birth landed on a weekday which was a school night for the rest of the kids. And my parents usually hosted my birthday bash on a Saturday night, but your mom's wedding ceremony or non-ceremony was the grand event last week."

"Yeah!"

She frowns. "You seem upset."

He exhales with puzzlement. "It was a busy weekend. That's for shore!"

"Yeah, everyone had been happy about Miss Arie getting married. And then, she walked out of her own wedding, wearing a hand gun on her hip. I found all of it very strange and weird. The rest of weekend was extremely busy with her wedding and then the Mint Julep Dance and Dinner Gala. I had tons of funs at the dance and dinner gala which had hosted by the Lacy Springs Hospital."

He smiles. "I did also."

"Then I turned eighteen years old again at two pm, this afternoon, until six tonight. My parents gave a formal dinner for me plus numerous birth day presents coming from all the relatives for my final birthday party, thus my pink-tinted evening gown. Since I'm starting college, there aren't any more kiddie birthdays. The party ended at six this evening. My parents are driving my grandmother back to the city of Huntsville. I booked this hotel room getting prettily bathed and perfumed for just for you, Flamingo," she smells her wrist bone and then extends her arm into his nose. "Do you like my new womanly perfume?"

He sniffs her wrist bone and pulls back with a grin. "Yeah, your new womanly perfume smells sweet like you. Back to the hotel room purchase! If your parents find out that you have a pail of cold beer bottles inside here as a teen, then they are going to stroke out and maybe die," Flamingo exhales with worry.

She shakes her curls with a grin. "Relax! Where's my tough guy Flamingo that I fell into love with, last week? The redneck beau that rescued me and then kept me for himself," she giggles.

He back steps with a worried brow and exhales with frustration. "I'm really nervous about being inside a hotel with the bottles of beer and numerous adults that can spy on us, teens. Maybe, we should go to your house, since your parents aren't home. We can have fun there too."

She giggles. "I know what I'm doing. I can make decision after eighteen years of studying learning."

Flamingo gasps. "Eighteen years! What eighteen years old? Who is eighteen years old?"

She giggles. "I am eighteen years old tonight."

He gasps. "You're eighteen years old today."

She smiles. "Yeah, I turned eighteen years old last week."

"You told me that you were going to be seventeen years old at Mint Julep Dance, last Saturday night, at this very hotel, inside the lobby, before your parents left the ballroom."

She frowns. "Yeah, I did. You swept me off my feet that night. Breck swept me off the center stage over his shoulder also. I must confess with stunned and shock, sir. I was in awe. You spoke to me for the very first time, since we were in the pre-kindergarten class. Once you had exhibited your mighty brains, you entered the gifted program and we didn't see each other for a long, long time. The regular students didn't eat, play, or talk with the Gifters, only other Gifters."

He frowns. "Gifters, that's a funny name."

"Yeah, it's a silly name, which was made up by your brother Cinco."

He sneers, "Asshole."

She smiles. "Yeah, Cinco, he calls you that funny name also."

He smiles, "Yeah, I gotta get Cinco for that tomorrow, twice," Flamingo laughs alone with his evil thoughts.

She giggles with a grin. "I'm sorry for the confusion and surprise. I was so happy, excited, shocked, and thrilled about the night, especially talking to you that I hardly heard your words. You accepted an invitation to my birthday party. I was thrilled. You never came to my birthday parties ever."

"I was fucking a whore, somewhere, probably. I am sorry for the confusion too. But I'm only seventeen years old."

She winks. "O! I'm older than you are. Does that bother you loving on an older woman?"

He smiles. "Naw, I don't mind. I like an older female, but you're eighteen years old. I'm only seventeen."

"So!"

"So?"

"So!"

He exhales with worry. "Violet, I'm a minor when compared to your non-minor. You are eighteen years old, an adult in the eyes of the court room and the court of law. I am seventeen years old, a minor in the eyes of the court room. Gawd! And I am standing inside a hotel room with pail of alcoholic beverages and a mature adult, who is eighteen years old. We must leave here. I mean, I have to leave..."

"Flamingo, what's wrong?"

He scoots around her, moves ahead, and stops at the wall of glass windows, scanning the parking lot with worry. "If someone sees us here, together, in a hotel room..."

"Flamingo, you're acting really weird," she spins around and moves ahead, stopping beside him. "Eighteen years old is still a teenager. I am still a teenager like you. I am still in high school, like you. We both attend the same high school..."

"Yes, we are, and we do. But..." He back steps from her while shaking his hands and his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap. "You are legally an adult female, at the age of eighteen years, Violet. I am legally a minor teenager, at the age of seventeen years old. Look," he exhales. "We cannot do this here and right now."

She spins around with puzzlement and views him. "Flamingo, I bet you have fucked another girl that was eighteen years old too."

He nods with a stern face. "I can't argue with your reasonable logic. Except in my self-defense, I was seen first in a public place like a football game or a hoedown dance or a social party. Then I fucked her. Don't you see the difference?"

"No. I'm with you in a public place."

"You are with me in a public place, at eighteen years old with a minor teen, at the age of seventeen years old. I'm a minor. You're an adult. We can't do this thing not here, not now."

She pouts. "You...you are breaking up with me."

"Naw!" He exhales. "I love you truly with my heart and soul. I mean we can't fuck together right now here inside the hotel in a public establishment. Someone could see us together."

"I don't understand, Flamingo. You have a very nasty reputation for fucking girls everywhere and anytime..."

"Yeah, I do. A whore is a whore, who does it, anytime and everywhere. You are not one of them. I love you more knowing that I can't touch you in certain places. Hell! I can't date you without a social and proper adult chaperone."

She exhales. "What?"

He exhales with a nod. "This is the basis concept, within the Old South, where a maiden virgin did not receive a gentleman without her parents or a chaperone. A virgin girl was guarded, sometimes with a shotgun, from an evil beau, until the day they got married," he smiles. "We're implementing that old concept living here in State of Alabama."

She frowns. "What!"

He reaches out and shifts her upper dress back over her naked shoulders. "You're my virgin princess, who is going to be my virgin bride, one day."

She views the ceiling tiles and then returns with a sour frown to see Flamingo. "One day is seven years from now..."

He back steps with a smile from her while shaking both his hands and his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap, "Naw, babe! When I turn eighteen years old, I'll be an adult male of legal age equal status to your adult female. Then I'll come and rent this same suite, fuck your eyeballs out over and over, again. I promise with dog bones and biscuits," he slams his back spine into the metal doors, sounding with a set of soft chuckles, spinning around and opens the door.

Flamingo exits the hotel room first and struts ahead down the hallway towards the set of closed elevator doors while darting his eyelids side to side and then stops. He paces side to side over the marble flooring with nervousness. He hopes no one sees him leaving a hotel in the late evening hour. Someone might accidentally tattle to one of his high school friends, who might accidental tattle to his biological mama, who might accidental tattle to Flamingo's biological mother Arie.

Violet exits quickly from her rented room and wears a worried brow.

They move ahead and enter the carriage, moving down to the lobby floor.

At 07:45 pm, outdoors in the dull moonlight and heated temperatures, Flamingo exits the elevator and then strolls out the entrance door first strutting across the roadway beside a row of tall dark trees, without Violet. He stops beside a row of cars and whispers for his eardrums only. "I'm right. I'm right. I'm right. She is eighteen years old. I am seventeen years old."

Violet exits the hotel entrance doors next, strolls across the roadway, and then stops in front of Flamingo, wiping the tears from her face, saying with a soft voice. "I'm sorry. I thought about what you said inside that room. I don't want any trouble either. We can wait, until you're officially eighteen years old too. Then we can have our sexy fun time here. Do you want to come over to my house and wait some television or a movie?"

He scans the rows of cars. "Where is your parked car?" She fingers the end of the row of vehicles. He gently shoves her down towards her parked car. "I'll follow you home ensuring you're safe and sound. Naw, I mean, I want too. We shouldn't be seen together and alone."

"Together! There's the football game homecoming dance, the Halloween dance, the Turkey Day dance, the Holiday Dance, the..."

He exhales with worry and moves besides her, turning to scan darkness for any familiar friends from Lacy Springs High School, which would usually. His friends are at home watching television or fucking their girl at the riverside or playing on electronic games. He turns and smiles at Violet. "Look! We can still attend each public social function as a dating couple. I mean, we cannot be alone by ourselves. Gawd! My mama would have a stroke, if she knew that I was dating an older female. She comes from the old generation and won't understand."

Violet exhales with a nod. "Yeah, your mother and my parents would not understand, either. I just didn't think about being older than you, Flamingo. I am one of oldest student in our academic class."

"Ah! The termination date for a child entering pre-kindergarten is July 31st. Your day of birth is in the month of September. You had to be left behind."

"Yeah."

He nods. "This is so surreal. My mama doesn't allow a teen to visit our ranch, especially during the weekday. I realize now how wise my mama is. She did that to prevent this right here from happening."

"I visited your house before during the Toot, Toot Tutoring session with..."

"Yeah!" Flamingo and his family members only know the tragic ending of Lacey and her two family members. The rest of the town thought high schooler Lacey had moved away from Lacy Springs.

He exhales. "The Toot, Toot Tutoring session has been blessed and approved by my mama for an educational session. She does allow a teenager over for a planned event. Period!" Violet nods in silence. Flamingo exhales. "Look! I don't think we should make a big deal out of me as seventeen years old and you as eighteen years old. We act like a pair of high school teens in public places. We cuddle and hug and kiss. That's it."

She frowns. "Your two brothers are going to get suspicious."

He laughs, "Naw! Everyone will think the usual as each one is a dumbass teen. Except, if a smarter teen tattles, then are we covered and cleared. Do you agree with me?"

She nods with a smile. "I agree."

Flamingo stops and stands beside her car. She pulls out the key fob and unlocks the door. He opens the door with a smile and leans over, giving her a quick kiss, pulling back with a smile.

She nods in silence and enters her car, cranking the engine, driving away.

08:41 pm

McCory Cow Ranch location

Semi-dark hallway setting

Inside the hallway, Cinco totes a tray of food snacks while studying for each school examination. He applied and was accepted into Birmingham State University at the start of summer session for next year.

However, the university administration is requiring Cinco to take a set of remedial class courses in math algebra and world literature, since his academic grades stink worse than his stallion's green colored steamy shit piles.

So, Cinco is performing double-time homework assignments. He can re-test in those academic studies making a higher acceptable grade then start the regular classes with the regular freshmen.

He stops with a gasp inside the middle of the narrow semi-dark hallway, staring at his brother. "Flamingo!"

Flamingo slams his finger into his lips, shaking his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap, when Cinco nods in silence.

They shuffle backwards and move down the semi-dark hallway into the kitchen setting. Cinco scoots down at the breakfast table, placing the food tray on top of the hard surface, whispering with worry. "It's a little after eight o'clock. What happened?" He eats food from the tray and spits out chewed food particles across the table, "I mean, I know what happened. But the happening is usually longer, longer an hour or two. Why are home so early? O no!"

"O yes!" Flamingo scoots down into the chair, leaning over into cheekbone on Cinco, without alerting a nosy Breck. "There wasn't a blowout birthday party..."

"I know," Cinco chews the food.

He frowns with puzzlement at Cinco. "How did you know that? Violet didn't have a birthday party for the other kids at Lacy Springs like always."

Cinco grins. "Babbie knows everything and everyone. She is a trusty belle among both the trusted and un-trusted teens. That's why I love her so much. She fits into every crowd making everyone feel comfortable. She secretly took Babbie. Babbie told me," he sips the beverage and then smiles. "Babbie tattles to me everything."

"O! Then you know that also." He steals food from Cinco's tray and chews.

"Did ya'll have a lover's fight? I thought Violet liked you."

"No fight. She does. I love her, too, and I am going to marry that girl, right after I graduate medical school."

Cinco laughs. "So, why are you home, before midnight? That's not your loving style."

He grins with a nod. "No, it ain't my loving style. So, you don't know."

"Know what?" Cinco chews the food.

He frowns with puzzlement at Cinco. "Babbie doesn't know."

"Know what?" Cinco chews.

He exhales. "She turned eighteen years, last week, not today and not next year."

Cinco gasps. "Shit, naw!"

He nods. "Shit, yeah! I'm worried about what our mama and our grandmother would think or say." Cinco nods and chews the food in silence. Flamingo nods. "I guess you would worry too about our mama's first reaction." Cinco nods and chews the food in silence.

He nods. "That's why our mama guards us, sons worse than a flock of heavenly angels while preventing us from messing up our lives as she is our mama and our protector." Cinco nods and chews in silence.

He exhales. "I drove around pondering my short life of seventeen years, after leaving the hotel around eight o'clock. Her family birthday party scene was not located at the Lacy Springs Hotel."

Cinco spits out chewed particles of food over the table. "Ah, naw!"

"Ah, yeah! I found out then high tailed my ass out of there before some folks recognized us."

"Ah, naw!"

"Ah, yeah!"

"Ah, naw!"

"Ah, yeah!"

Inside the semi-dark narrow hallway, first-born triplet Breck turns the wall corner from the staircase with a smile seeing the bright overhead lights inside the kitchen. Cinco is up and stealing a tray of food too. He slowly pads down the empty hallway on a pair of silent naked feet seeing two skulls and one wears shoulder length blonde curls. The other is a nasty ass-backwards baseball cap, meaning Flamingo is home.

Breck stops and views his designer wrist watch with puzzlement while whispering for his eardrums only. "Flamingo is back home at nine o'clock in the evening, not before the stroke of midnight. Why? What for? What happened?" He slowly moves ahead down the hallway towards the bright light and then stops at the wall corner listening to the private conversation between his two brothers.

At the breakfast table, in front of the food tray, Cinco spits out food particles over the table surface. "So, what are you going to do now?"

"Nothing." Flamingo frowns.

Cinco frowns. "Nothing! What does that mean? Are ya'll still a romantic couple, like a boyfriend and a girlfriend, at school?"

He nods, "Ah, yeah! We are a social couple without all the fun parts."

"Ah, naw!"

He nods. "Violet is still one of two virgins there at Lacy Springs High School," he shakes his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap and says with a sour frown. "Do not tell Breck ever!"

Cinco frowns. "Ah, naw!"

He exhales. "Look! I want you to act normal, tomorrow, at school. Okay! I don't want Breck to find out my un-loving manly secret."

Cinco nods. "I swear to it. I know how Breck is now, especially, since he got his ass handed back by...her."

"We all agreed." He frowns. "We are not going to mention unnamed her or unnamed him, ever again. We made that vocal promise to our mama and our grandmother."

Cinco nods. "Look! I didn't mention unnamed him and unnamed her. But Breck is thinking about unnamed her. He's still depressed and acting really weird-ass. Quiet. Shy. Reserve."

He exhales. "My teenly emotions are duplicating these same brotherly traits. A girl can make your head and your ass spin into two different directions. I just want everything to go back into normal statue with the groove of my usual school routine. Our mama is safe with her overprotective bodyguard and new boyfriend A.J. now. So, I feel much better about that. A.J. will not let anything happen to our mama."

Cinco nods. "I agree. Okay. We go back to acting normal, even though our sur-name has changed, which is sorta really weird-ass also. I still can't remember to say McCory over..."

"...the Unnamed Him..." Flamingo nods. "Yeah, that's part of not mentioning Unnamed Her or Unnamed Him or the Unnamed Him ever again."

Inside the narrow hallway, Breck back steps from the dark corner near the open archway while hiding inside the shadow, spinning around with a smirk, rubbing both hands together with a soft chuckle. He silently dashes ahead through the semi-darkness in the hallway, before Cinco or Flamingo sees his wiggling ass.

Inside the kitchen at the breakfast table, Cinco and Flamingo stands upright from the chair one at a time.

Cinco smiles and holds the food tray. "Well, since you're back as a single and handsome bachelor dude again, you can come with me and Breck back down into ground zero at Mohawk Patch. We hit some buried leaves and bones of a dead horse. And there is a thick layer of additional wet leaves below the dead horse."

Flamingo gasps. "Do you really believe that there is a treasure chest of gold coins right below that damn dead horse?"

"Yeah, I do believe so. There is something of great worth. Breck is only digging in the dirt, because his feelings are bent with pain. And he hasn't lined up a social date for this weekend, either, which is usually."

He nods. "The football is this Friday night. This is an important game. We're heading towards winning our regional playoffs and then hopefully taking on the first playoff team..."

"We will win with you as the superstar quarterback and me as the superstar defensive end."

He frowns. "You didn't place our big brother in that quotient."

Cinco buzzes his lips. "Breck is an extra point kicker. He never misses the space between the two goal posts. He is a given like in geometry."

He gasps and then smiles. "You finally understand your geometry homework problems."

Cinco nods with a smile. "Yeah, I figured it out all. And I'm maintaining the alphabetic letter grade of B in my geometry class. Thanks to you, Flamingo. So, we'll win out regional place in the first round of playoffs. Then we'll win the whole thing. Thanks to you, me, and the rest of the team, including Breck. I guess," he laughs and back steps from the dirty breakfast table surface, exiting the hallway, moving down the hallway back, climbing the staircase with Flamingo as they joke and laugh out loud.

On top of the staircase, Cinco veers towards his private bedroom. "Night, Flamingo!" He enters the room and slams the door, but the set of silent hydraulics quickly catches the brute force from Cinco and then gently closes the heavy bedroom door shut.

"Good night, Cinco!" Flamingo moves down the hallway and enters his private bedroom while his mental thoughts continuously ponder if Violet is the right girl for his person. He drops down and rests on top of the nicely made bed covers and frowns down at the bed covers. "What is wrong here? I am right. Breck is wrong. I know that Violet and I are made for each other. Our stars collide and are meant to meet and then mate," he exhales with worry and whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard and reads the screen. "I'm a Taurus, which represents the face and the horns on a bull. The star constellation is a symbol of growth and fertility. The sign of Taurus is ruled by Venus," he frowns. "I know all about me. What is Breck? He is Aries, the ram."

Flamingo types on the keyboard and reads out loud the information on the tiny screen. "An Aries personality possesses a big ego. Check! He is adventurous. Check. He is ambitious. Double check! And his is loyal. I don't think so. He is a path finder and pioneer of thought and action making Breck a natural born leader. Triple check! When the Aries personality does not get their way, he is anger and aggressive at the entire world," he laughs. "Yes ma'am! An Aries personality is independent. He is a go-getter and leads the way. Yes, Breck does at that. An Aries personality possesses an upbeat and magnetic trait that attracts attention as the leader. However, the Aries personality is also dependent on close ones, selfish and generous. Yes, Breck is that also. Where is the good stuff?" He types on the keyboard and reads out loud the new information on the tiny screen. "An Aries personality brings excitement into people's boring lives. Well, that explains his behavior at the church's revival work. The traits of an Aries are enterprising, incisive, spontaneous, daring, active, and courageous. Yeah, that explains a lot of Breck and his move on my girlfriend. Finally, the most compatible person with an Aries personality is a Leo or a Libra or a Sagittarius. Do you see this? I see this. The star list does not mention a Virgo. You lose again, Breck!"

He types on the tiny keyboard and views the tiny screen with a smile. "I'm right. Look at this! Aries is ruled by Mars. Taurus is ruled by Venus. Aries is guided by instinct, the need for continuation of the species, and the transfer of genetic material to the next generation. That is so typical of Breck! Taurus consists of satisfaction. Aries is satisfied all the time. Yeah, that's Breck too! Taurus is a fixed sign and set in their ways. Yeah, that me! I don't change for anyone, including my mother or my girlfriend. Both Aries and Taurus form a brotherly relationship on honesty. Neither one runs away from a challenge. That's so true! Both Aries and Taurus possess a set of horns which makes both of their personalities stubborn. Tell me about! But they still share some understanding. Yes, we do that too. Aries-guy grabs his convictions and does not let go. A Ram person will kick and scream until he convinces everyone in the room that he is right the smallest thing in the universe. That's so true about Breck!

"When a Taurus notes that rude behavior, the Taurus person will dig in and not move either. They face each other and stand there annoying each other. Mama hates that personality conflict too. That's so true from the both of us! However, a Bull personality can stand there and listen to the shouting, without compromise. A Taurus personality can and will and does something. That's so me! For a Taurus personality, the issue is not angry or intelligence, he does not deal with that behavior well. Yeah, that's me! So, the answer is the middle ground. Taurus needs to set the boundaries of a safe zone. And Aries needs to take a step back and lower his shouting voice. That's some good advice in dealing with a hot-headed Breck. Both signs are emotional signs. Aries displays their emotions with rude, loud, and impatience acts of war and love," he laughs. "That's so true of Breck! The emotions of a Taurus personality are silent and slow moving like touching and gentle words. That's me! Aries finds this boring and stiff. And Aries and Taurus value material security which involves money and possessions. Ya got that right! Each one looks for character and strength. Aries is active and ready for the fight or the game through physical activity. Taurus needs to rest and then gather energy all the time. However, they both like Mother Nature. That's true also. Aries and Taurus must stop using their individual horns on each other and establish a peaceful work or social environment through additional shared education and laughable humor. Then, the relationship will become better and better and better. That's a good piece of advice!"

Flamingo flips over and stares at a picture of Violet without calling her. A few seconds later, he rises to work on his AP homework assignments in silence.

Tuesday, September 30th

08:08 am

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunlight

Lacy Springs High School

Parking lot setting

The weather is heated and hot in the month of September, within the US State of Alabama, displaying a pale blue sky and scattered semi-crooked rows of white fluffy clouds over the town of Lacy Springs.

Three vehicles slowly drive in a line through the gray tinted parking lot and then stop, parking side by side.

Cinco kills the engine on his blue tinted racing motorcycle, slides off the motorcycle, and jogs ahead towards a red colored sports car and then stops. He opens the car door and drops the motorcycle helmet down on top of the black tinted front passenger leather seat, back stepping from the car, slamming the door shut. He spins around with a smile and dashes ahead towards his girl Babbie.

Breck kills the motor his white tinted, jacked-up pickup truck, slides out from the driver's seat, and closes the door, moving ahead towards to the tail gate. He stops and reaches out, dropping down the tailgate, slamming his black tinted backpack without a set of academic textbooks on top of the metal. It sounds with a soft thump.

Flamingo kills the engine on his red tinted sports car and slides out from the driver's seat, jerking out two individual black tinted backpacks with books, slamming the door shut with a flip-flop move. He swings around with a smile, moves ahead towards the lowered tailgate on the trunk and then stops, handing Breck the black tinted backpack with books for Cinco.

"Thanks, man!" Breck accepts and then empties out the black tinted backpack for Cinco, slowly sorting through the set of new homework assignments for his brother, like always. He examines each piece of paper and smiles at the set of correct answers. The tutoring session from Breck is paying off, so Cinco will be able to apply to the university admission department with a set of fair grades now, and maybe, he could avoid the set of remedial college courses, before the fall semester starts.

Cinco dashes ahead and collides into Babbie, hugging her body, sucking on her face, like usual.

The other students exit from a vehicle and then stroll within a huddle of friends or move ahead individually towards the entrance doors in the school building for the homeroom class.

Flamingo moves ahead with his backpack of books and completed notebooks of homework and then stops, talking with his high school friends Doyle and Yancy, like usual.

The school scene appears normal for the triplet brothers. Almost like Lacey had never existed here at Lacy Springs High or never lived in a house here within the cow town of Lacy Springs either.

Flamingo reaches out and slaps the collar bone on each one of his friends, scooting around his friend, moving towards his girl Violet. She stands by the closed door on her mint green colored sedan with a smile and sways her body side to side, winking at Flamingo.

Flamingo swiftly moves ahead and gently collides into her body, for fun, pulling back with a chuckle, leaning over and kisses her lips. He pulls back with a wink.

So, not everything is normal for the triplet brothers. Some events are new, such like, his new girlfriend and his mother's new fiancé.

At the tailgate, Breck continues to sort through the wrinkled homework assignments, like he has done, since the ninth grade, so Cinco can continue to play sports here at the high school. One of his eyeballs strays away from the stack of wrinkled papers and then scouts each vehicle inside the parking lot for that one single virgin, who stills hangs at Lacy Springs High.

Cinco and Flamingo know the name of the virgin girl.

Breck is totally clueless regarding both her name and her appearance. His single eyeball scans the nose profile on a petite and pretty Nitocee, possessing a tone of amber skin, matching amber tinted long hair strands, and the same eyeball color. She is a tenth grader and a member of the marching band, moving with a group of girls towards the entrance doors on the school building.

Her mother is the mayor of Lacy Springs.

So, that tells Breck enough information about the teen female while marking her off his mental list

He sees a tall and sexy Edivalynn, displaying a tone of dark skin, a ponytail of brown hair, and a pair of brown eyes. She is an eleventh grader and moves toward her boyfriend Thance. Thance would be certain to remind Breck that Edivalynn is his girlfriend with a folded fist into the eye socket on Breck.

So, Breck marks her off his mental list also.

Breck sees a cute and plump Xebee, exhibiting a tone of pale skin, a hair of platinum short hair, and a pair of gray eyeballs. She is another tenth grader. Her parents own three bakery shops with delicious pies and pastries here in Lacy Springs.

If Breck starts to date Xebee, then he could receive free donuts for life.

Xebee stops and hugs another short and plump teenager, kissing his face.

So, Breck crosses her name off his mental list.

He sees an average height and weight Gipsy, possessing a head of long black hair, a tone of pale skin, and a pair of green eyes. She attends the ninth grade, where some students are fifteen years old with a driving permit for a vehicle. And some kids are only fourteen years old. Gipsy is fourteen years old.

Breck draws the invisible line with the age factor. Fourteen years old is too young to date and play around. So, he crosses her name off his mental list.

His eyeball sees a tall and sexy Kiki, displaying a tone of firm muscles, a head of brown colored hair, and a pair of blue eyeballs. She attends eleventh grade and strolls ahead, walking into the arms of another eleventh grader, a female.

His set of neurons clicks with a string of colorful fantastic images with the two teen females.

The school bell rings out loud for the first time.

Flamingo cuddles with Violet, slowly moves ahead from her parked vehicle stops, reaching out, slapping the collar bone his brother and says with a grin, "Breck!"

Breck jumps outta of his bones and then swallows back down the mouth drool, wiping off his mouth with the back of a hand, "Yeah."

He slowly moves ahead with Violet towards the school building without his school friends. "Pack it up right now! Did you hear it? The school bell has rung for the first period hour of classes."

"Yeah, yeah," Breck stuffs each textbook back down into the Cinco's backpack, back steps and slams upright the tailgate on his truck, spinning around to face the school building and wears a smile, wiping his wet lips again. He continues to stare at each female while still hunting for the last virgin here at Lacy Springs High School.

First period hour

AP Chemistry classroom setting

08:06 am

Each student has entered the appropriate classroom for a long day of academic studies.

Inside the AP classroom, Flamingo moves through the archway and struts ahead, sitting behind his three-foot wide writing desk, inside a mint green painted classroom, tapping on the open page inside his chemistry book, waiting for the second bell to ring for the beginning of class.

The square shaped room offers more decorative time than the regular classroom with three solid white walls and a wall of long glass windows.

The AP classroom contains four walls also. The entrance wall is located on the side of the room, holding a metal door with a clear glass window. The rest of the wall contains a mixture of materials, part white board for hand written messages in numerous colors, part cork board for pinning a type or hand-written exhibitions for fun. In the middle of the wall, a gigantic built-in plasma television screen, which stays powered down, except in case of bad weather like a tornado warning or an ice storm.

Each AP teacher feels each AP student must use their brain cells, not the remote-control devise with the television screen.

Below the mixture of boards, a lengthwise built-in book shelf holds numerous hard copy textbooks and reference books for ease of learning.

On the rear wall, two rows of blue-tinted individual student lockers gleam through the artificial lamps, where each AP student stores their school and personal items.

On the opposite side wall, four sets of French doors view the manicured lawn, the flower garden, the pale blue sky, the white clouds, groves of tall shade trees, and a flock of flying birds, when available.

The front wall contains a long white board which is used for class instruction and a short tan colored wooden office desk for the current AP teacher. Usually, the office desk stays clean and empty between each period as the AP teacher rotates around from AP classroom to the regular classroom for academic teaching.

The group of AP students are separated from the regular high school graders from the ninth, tenth, eleventh, and twelfth and possess their own classroom, two bathrooms, a laboratory room, a library section, and a smaller lunchroom for each genius egghead. Some of the genius eggheads invades Lacy Springs coming from the northern part of Huntsville as an academic eject from the gifted program within the Madison County school system.

The AP classroom holds twenty-eight students.

Flamingo was placed in the advancement placement classroom as a sophomore with the good intent of leap frogging both his body and his mind into the Birmingham University system as a sophomore college student, after graduating as one of thirteen valedictorians from Lacy Springs High School. He plans to earn a biology undergraduate degree and then apply and enroll into the Burn U School of Medicine, becoming a medical physician, who will cure every disease and disorder known to mankind.

In front of the white board on the side wall, the first period AP academic teacher instructs in the subject of advanced chemistry. She possesses a short, queen-sized body frame which is covered in a long-sleeved white tinted silk blouse with a cute girly bowtie on the high collar, a long ankle-length dark brown colored skirt, a pair of low brown tinted heels, and a pair of eyeglasses. She stands with both cupped hands behind her back spine in front of the clean white board, scanning the face of each student, saying without a smile but a sneer from her monotone dull tenor voice, "Good morning, geniuses. We are starting the morning off with a brief presentation from our principal Mr. Marshall," she views him with a slight nod, back stepping from the center of the classroom in front of the long white board. "Sir, you may have center stage."

She sits down behind an empty teacher desk, without a stack of papers or a pile of pencils, staring at the nose profile on Marshall.

Marshall exhibits a short body frame, a tone of pale skin, and a balding skull of brownish-gray hair, wearing a dress suit without a necktie, and a pair of polished aqua colored cowboy boots. He stomps in front of the students without paper notes or a speaking podium. He clears his throat. "I am very excited to share this new information with the advanced placement students here at Lacy Springs High. Each year, each senior student is required to write a senior research paper for a letter grade which applies towards completing a high school graduate diploma. Not many seniors understand that the research paper is also forwarded to the State of Alabama Governor's private office. The current governor personally selects five senior research papers based on topic, intrigue, adventure, and creativity. Then, the governor awards a blue colored ribbon to five Outstanding High Schoolers within the State of Alabama. I am so very pleased to announce that one of our seniors here at Lacy Springs High School has been awarded a blue ribbon as one of the five Outstanding High Schoolers within the State of Alabama."

The audience of smart students softly claps and wears a bright grin viewing Marshall.

He stops clapping, and then smiles. "I would like to personally thank each one of you as the principle here at Lacy Springs High School. The academic staff and I work very hard to maintain both integrity and honesty in a world of evil along with good citizenship in a world of corruption. We are very pleased to showcase our role model skills for each young and impressible high school student. Without further delay..." he exhales, "...the senior student from Lacy Springs High School is Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fourth. Please, stand and reach over, slapping the back spine or shake the hand on Mr. Balegreen with your applause."

Each advanced placement student softly claps and views Flamingo.

On the last row, in the first writing desk, Flamingo scoots off the chair with a smile and a nod, moving ahead and then stops, standing beside Marshall. He clears his throat and stares at the students. "My new name is Breck Freehurst McCory, the fourth, sir."

Marshall reaches over and shakes the extended hand on Flamingo, holding up the solid blue satin ribbon near his grin. "Yes, yes, of course, I am so sorry, Flamingo. My old brain cells forget sometimes. It is highly usual to have a student change their sur-name, so swiftly in time and so young as a teenager. Let each one of us knowledge Breck Freehurst McCory for a job well done as one of five Outstanding High Schoolers here at Lacy Springs High School and the great US State of Alabama," he hands the ribbon to Flamingo and softly claps with a smile.

Flamingo accepts the ribbon and continues to stand, holding his blue ribbon near his smile in silence.

The students softly clap with a smile for Flamingo again.

Marshall leans over and whispers with a grin into the eardrum on Flamingo. "I would like for you to have lunch with me, Flamingo, today. We have a lot of information to exchange."

Flamingo looks down and frowns at the clean floor, looking up to see the wall of lockers while smiling at the clapping students. "Yes sir." Marshall turns and motions with his hand towards the glass window.

The automatic door opens.

A tall and slender, black-haired male enters and then stands in front of Flamingo and Marshall. They smile and pose for a colorful photograph together in the local newspaper. The photographer snaps the picture and then leaves the school building for his job at the local Lacy Springs newspaper and internet site, displaying the local high schooler with his award.

05:11 pm

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunlight

McCory Cow Ranch location

Dining room setting

The dining room is square-shaped with four dark green colored walls that appear behind numerous pieces of cherry wood furniture including a long buffet table, three squat cabinets, two glass curios, and a hand-painted portrait of first McCory family eating at the dining room table on the side behind the other end of the table.

In the middle of the room, a twenty-one-foot matching dining room table stands, where a person sits every three feet in-between each pointy elbow. One side panel can seat seven adults or fourteen children.

A row of steamed trays of heated food stands on top of the polished long buffet table that leans against the dark green paint.

The triplet brothers eat the supper meal with their Grandmother Iredell McCory. Arie and A.J. are away from the ranch house and eating their dinner meal in the city of Athens with his parents while talking about their upcoming wedding ceremony here in Lacy Springs, sometime next month.

On the opposite side of the table, Cinco spits his chewed particles of food over his plate of food, his hands, and the naked table surface, turning to see Breck. "Eat fast, dude! We hit the terrain vehicles and then swiftly race out towards Mohawk Patch, before the sun falls down into the grass. Then we..."

"...cannot leave the house." Iredell turns and frowns at Cinco. "You are to stay home and study or relax or enjoy the evening like a set of teenagers, Cinco. In the fall season, here in Alabama, the sun falls down in the grass blades around six-thirty in the evening. The time is a little passed five in the evening. It will take you about forty-five minutes to reach unknown and isolated Mohawk Patch. I should know. I have lived here all of my fifty-seven years and still growing older," she laughs and then says with a stern face. "You can reach the mountain pass during the remaining daylight hours, but then your return travel will be passed the dark nighttime hours steering towards your homestead. The wildness does not contain a row of bright flood lights and a set of traffic stop signs. It is too dangerous for each one of you to maneuver during the nighttime hours out in the wilderness," she exhales. "I am responsible for your security and safety. If something should happen to any one or all of you, boys, then Arie would never forgive me. Do you understand, Cinco? I love you and I protect you."

"Yes, I understand, Grandmother. Thanks for the explanation." Cinco eats and chews with a sour frown.

On the opposite side of the table, Flamingo spits out his chewed particles of food over his plate of food and the naked table, nodding with a smile to each family member. His mother Arie is not present to correct his bad table manners and his Grandmother Iredell has given up allowing the child to act like a redneck. He smiles with food particles between his front teeth. "Well, something happened to me, today, at school. I had received a blue ribbon from the State of Alabama Governor's office as one of the fiver Outstanding High Schoolers here in Bama."

Breck spits out his chewed particles of food over his plate with a jealous mumble. "I heard."

Cinco looks up and nods with a smile to Flamingo. "We all heard the fantastic rumor going around the school campus. Flamingo, also, got his colored picture taken by the photographer from the Lacy Springs newspaper."

Breck mumbles down at the plate of food. "His pic is already on the internet."

"It is, is it?" Flamingo whips out his mobile telephone and types on the tiny keyboard, viewing his person on the mobile telephone screen. He smiles. "There, I am!" He places the phone by his elbow and looks up, switching both hands back to his dinner plate, "I also had lunch with Principal Marshall..."

"...inside his principal office," frowns Breck.

Flamingo looks up and smiles, "Naw! We went to the Fish Shack down from the high school for a plate of fried catfish and hush puppies. We talked and ate almost the entire afternoon. I showed up for football practice. Principal Marshall is proud of my academic accomplishment. We talked about how I have made the school noticed within the governor's office and what an honor it is to be represented by my hometown of Lacy Springs. Apparently, I'm the only student to receive the honor of being an..."

"... outie high schooler in the State of Alabama," Breck chews and sneers with food particles between his teeth at Flamingo. "Yeah, I heard the story about one million, four hundred thousand, three hundred, and nineteen times, only, today, Grandmother."

Iredell frowns at Breck. "Please, practice your southern gentleman table manners, first-born triplet. I have not heard the wonderful story coming from Flamingo. This is such an honor for my grandson Flamingo and the recognition of our local Lacy Springs High School. And that recognition of academic excellent sends a pile of state monies into Lacy Springs High School. I mean, Arie and I can't fund the local elementary, middle, and high school forever. And my three grandsons are graduating from high school also. I will continue to contribute my money to the school, of course. However, this Governor's award will ensure that Lacy Springs High School will receive a nice chunk of state funding for next year. Do Arie and A.J. know of your prestigious award, Flamingo?"

"Does Violet know about your non-party award, too, Middle Child?" Breck eats with an open mouth, chewing up the used food particles with hid teenly feelings of annoyance. He is depressed. His good luck has run down into the local sewer system, regarding any female teen and a corresponding teenly tongue of hot gossip.

The swift disappearance of his former girlfriend Lacey Newton has started a vile rumor that she is pregnant with Breck's baby. So, each known and unknown teen high school female is staying clear of Breck, until the baby has been birthed or the rumor dies like a patch of yellow weeds in the winter meadow.

At the dining room table, Flamingo spits out his food with a nod. "Yes ma'am! I called Mama and A.J. right after my football practice on my cell phone. Mama is very happy for me."

She nods. "Please tell us more, Flamingo."

Breck spits out his food particles over his plate and the naked wooden surface. "Flamingo wrote a ten-page research paper for his senior project on the elementary topic of gold."

Flamingo spits out more food particles with a smile, "My fourth-grade paper was both creativity and intriguing within the brain cells on our smart Alabama governor." The heavy blue colored ribbon droops down from his tee shirt while covering some of the vile words over his chest.

Breck spits out more food particles. "An elementary topic of gold, a dumb ass fourth grader can produce without references."

She nods. "Please tell us more, Flamingo."

Flamingo swallows the food and exhales with happiness. "Well, this bit of information is very exciting, also, Grandmother. Since I won the award and I was one of the five Outstanding High Schoolers within the State of Alabama, our high school and all the senior AP students have been selected to participate in a College Honor Challenge.

"The College Honor Challenge is a pet project from the Alabama governor, which is only here within the State of Alabama and only for any Alabama post-graduate institution. The College Honor Challenge set of results is accepted there at Burn U and Bam U, where I will attend college starting next summer session. The College Honor Challenge provides academically talented undergraduate students with an opportunity to develop their special talents and skills within an expanded and enriched numerous regular college courses. The courses include art, geography, history, math, science, and more. The details will be provided once my application is submitted and then accepted by the committee from the College Honor Challenge program. Each participating AP student benefits from the interaction with other AP students during the College Honor Challenge from all over the state, who are also highly talented and motivated students..."

"It sounds like the gifted program for a college student." Cinco spits out his chewed food particles over his plate, his hand, and the naked table, presenting a stern face.

Flamingo nods. "Yes, it' sorta setup like that, Cinco. However, there is a catch here. The College Honor Challenge is offered to every high school that has an AP program. But since I am one of the five winners, Lacy Springs High is bound to be one of first five picks for the College Honor Challenge honor-ship. Principal Marshall was not certain, but he had confidence in my AP work and my excellent academic AP record as I am one of the thirteen valedictorians..."

"What difference does it make, if you make it or not?" Cinco frowns.

Flamingo smiles with a nod. "The College Honor Challenge is really for each senior student more than the school. The school gets a brass-plated plaque the school's name, if selected as one of the qualified institutions, but each AP senior student is tested at the college level. If I am available to bypass all my freshman and sophomore college course in the College Honor Challenge, then I'll go straight into..."

"...hell..." Breck sneers.

"Breck!" Iredell frowns.

Breck smiles, "Hell, that sounds so nice and fine, my smarter brother of mine." He eats the food with an open pair of lips.

Flamingo nods. "Then I'll immediately become at Burn U a junior college student. Then I only study and test for all my biology core classes, graduating in two years or less..."

"Naw!" Breck frowns. "How can you possibly get a four-year degree in less than two years? Do the math! Well, I can perform the math also. That's a mathematical impossibility, Flamingo."

"I plan to attend college 365 days, all year long. During the summer months, the college has a core of mini-courses which can cut my physical classroom time in half while allowing me to take twice as many academic subjects in a shorter time period. It's like taking ten academic classes in one quarter. Therefore, I can graduate in one year and six months."

Cinco frowns. "Can you really graduate from college that swiftly, Flamingo?"

"Yeah!" Flamingo nods.

Breck spits out more chewed food particles over his wiggling fingers, his plate of food, and the clean tablecloth. "Bro, what about funs and footballs and fannies in the new college scene?"

Flamingo nods. "I've received several academic scholarships from various sources already as a graduating senior. I'm cutting out football and all fun social events there at college while totally concentrating on my academic achievement standards. I wanna graduate and go straight into medical school for three years plus my year-long fellowship for another year..."

"Wow!" Cinco stands upright from the chair and back steps moving ahead towards the buffet table for another plate of good food. "You'll miss me and Breck bleeding all the noses in each football game, dude."

Flamingo stands upright from his chair and back steps, moving back towards the buffet table for another plate of food, following beside Cinco. "I don't say that. I'm not going to participate and play in a football game. Violet will become a majorette in the Burn U Marching Band. I'll go each time to see her twirl the baton and flirt with her body on the football field," he laughs alone.

Iredell swallows the food and nods to Flamingo. "What is involved in the College Honor Challenge program? I am not familiar with that concept in a college atmosphere."

Flamingo sits back down and crams food into his mouth. He chews and spits out more chewed food particles in the air. "Uh! Well, I received bits and pieces from Principal Marshall as he received bits and pieces from other area principals. I will be required to write and present an oral dissertation in front of a chosen academic university professor, who is a hand-picked representative by the governor. The chosen academic university professor singularly will determine how many regular courses can be substituted for my regular freshmen and sophomore class load at Burn U during my challenge part," he exhales with excitement. "Get this! My oral dissertation has to cover geography, science, history, language, psychology, math, art, music..."

"How can you write about music or a musical song? Music is sung or hummed or strummed." Cinco laughs out loud and tosses his chewed food particles through the air. Each one lands on top of the clean tablecloth.

Breck swiftly stands upright from the chair and shakes one leg to the side while winking at Cinco as they both laugh. He spits his chewed food particles over the clean tablecloth also. "Flamingo is going to stand on his left leg while humming the _Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star_ kiddie song using his off-key vocal cords between each word on his oral presentation from his boring speech," he laughs with Cinco.

She turns and frowns down at the tablecloth. "Thank you for messing up the freshly ironed and pressed white linen tablecloth, Breck and Cinco. You, boys close your mouth when chewing and do not speak with food present on a pink tinted tongue. Do you understand me?" She looks up and smiles at Flamingo. "I understand the complication of a college dissertation. These specific components from numerous academic subjects are usually referenced in a college research paper, except for the musical part. I agree with Cinco that will be a noted challenge," she giggles and then chews the food with her set of polite southern belle manners, swallowing the food. She nods. "I am proud of you, Flamingo. However, I am very worried about Principal Marshall yanking you from your valuable advance placement class courses, then ordering you to participate in this Honor Challenge..."

Flamingo shakes his nasty ass-backwards baseball cap and says with a smile, "Naw, grandmother! This is not an order. This is an honor. It is my honor to participate in the College Honor Challenge and to advance all of my academic studies and be one of the few representations of Lacy Springs High..."

"What is the subject matter, dear?" She frowns with suspicion.

"Don't know yet!" Flamingo spits out his chewed food particles over his hands and the plate of food. "But I gotta turn back my application into the College Honor Challenge committee listing all my academic accomplishments and sports trophies and awards, since pre-kindergarten. And I must write a personal dissertation on me and then submit all the information for approval to the Alabama governor by October, the second..."

She gasps. "October, the second comes two solar sun and non-fun days from now, Flamingo. Today is the last day and the thirtieth day in the current month. Your college outline is due this school week, without providing you a topic of research. This sounds outrageous, Flamingo. I should call Principal Marshall for an explanation."

Flamingo laughs. "The outline of me is due on October, the first. The College Honor Challenge is also a selection process which is done by the chosen academic representative from the governor's office. I'm automatically selected to participate in the College Honor Challenge as I am one of the five Outstanding High Schoolers and my official blue tinted ribbon award. For my college dissertation, I'm working with Principle Marshall during my lunch hour at the school. Tonight, starting at six in the evening, he is assisting me and the rest of the other senior AP students filling out our College Honor Challenge application, before the interview process starts on October, the first..."

"Wow!" Breck views his wrist watch and says with a smile. "That's two days, fifteen hours, twenty-six minutes, two seconds or sixty-three hours, twenty-six minutes, two seconds or 3,806 minutes, two seconds or 228,362 seconds to turn in your dissertation outline, Flamingo." He looks up and winks at Flamingo then laughs out loud.

Cinco spits out his chewed food particles with laughter. "Thanks, Breck!"

Breck grins at Flamingo. "You mighty welcome, Flamingo."

Cinco spits out his chewed particles over his hands, his plate of food, and the nice clean tablecloth again. "Well, something happened to us, too, Grandmother. We dig up all the wet leaves and then tossed out all the tree twigs and heavy tree limbs. Now, we're digging deeper down into the wet red tinted clay soil. But I got a good feeling there is something else there."

She turns and smiles at Cinco. "What have you found, Cinco?"

He smiles with a nod. "I think we have found the lost or buried wooden crate of golden coins coming from the Confederate thief, Grandmother. We dug and dug on Monday afternoon a great big hole. But there is something down there inside the wet and hollow ground."

Breck spits out his chewed food particles over his hands, his empty plate, and nice tablecloth. "Cinco, I don't know when we'll be able to go and get back out there to Mohawk Patch, until this free weekend. The sun falls down real quick right after our football practice. Are you going to miss football practice, again, Flamingo?"

"Naw!" Flamingo swiftly stands upright from the chair and then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, nodding with a smile to Iredell. "Thanks, Grandmother. I gotten go and gather all my academic and sports awards and trophies and certifications and ribbons and plaques and pins and medals that I have earned at school, since I was four years old in my pre-kindergarten class. And I gotta start filling out by hand my thirteen-page College Honor Challenge application."

Breck laughs. "The number thirteen is a terrible sign of bad luck, bro. And you gotten do something by hand, without a girl. That doesn't sound cool or good or fun. It sounds bad and dull and boring."

She turns and sneers at her newest troublesome grandson. "Please, Breck, practice your southern manners here at the table and during the social conversation with me and your two brothers."

Flamingo smiles with a nod, "Grandmother, Principle Marshall will be calling you sometime tonight. He and I plan to work at school tomorrow morning before, during and after the breakfast meal. Don't worry! Principal Marshall is feeding all the senior AP students the breakfast meal inside our specially designed lunchroom. Then each one of us will be working on our individual oral presentation to the representative from the governor. So, we'll be staying and eating the lunch meal inside our special lunchroom setting also. I gotta go to football practice from two until four. Then I'll shower and change my clothes staying at the school grounds with Principal Marshall until nine o'clock at night with the other senior AP students. He wants us to work together and help each other out. And he needs your permission here, since you are acting as my adult guardian, Grandmother."

She nods with a smile without spitting out the chewed food particles. "That is a very noble cause and a good show of teamwork on the part of Principal Marshall, Flamingo. In the working world, everyone must work together. I am honored to provide my grandmotherly permission. You run along and gather all your items and leave the house, when you are ready. I trust you, Flamingo. You can stay out late on a school night. And Principal Marshall has already called and contacted me, dear. He is also very excited about the prospect of the College Honor Challenge being hosted by Lacy Springs High also."

Flamingo nods with a smile and scoots sideways from the chair, "Thanks for everything, Grandmother!" He moves ahead around the end of the table and his grandmother, exiting the dining room and races down the hallway to his private bedroom.

Iredell looks down and stabs the fork into the meat. "You are very welcome, dear."

Breck spins around inside the chair and stares at the open archway. "Why did you ask Flamingo about the award and the other stuff, if you already knew the entire time, Grandmother?"

She smiles. "It is part of the love, within a loving family, Breck," Iredell eats the food and chews with good table manners.

Breck returns and finishes the plate of food, burping out loud for annoyance. "I finished my meal, Grandmother. May I leave the table?"

"Yes, Breck!" She nods.

Breck leaves the table and exits the dining room, slowly moving down the semi-dark hallway, strolling into the entrance hall and turns to face the grand staircase. He climbs the steps and lands on top of the second level, moving ahead, passing each open archway.

The second level floor starts at the end of the staircase. If a person continues to walk straight ahead from the center of the steps, then the person runs into a solid wall of matching tan colored wood, where the wooden railings and wall surface were updated fifty years ago by Breck, Senior. The ceiling-to-floor solid wall displays an assortment of geometric framed and mounted colored photographs of each brother from birth until seventeen years old.

Arie purposes mounts each individual photograph while reminding each son that he is a son, a brother, and a grandson and should always respect his mother, his sibling, and his grandparents.

The solid wall separates the second floor into two different hallways.

Each hallway displays five individual very large bedrooms that hold its own private lavatory, built-in shelves, and a walk-in closet. The sixth bedroom door displays a gigantic master bedroom with an interior sitting room, a private lavatory, and walk-in closet. Across from hallway from the five individual bedrooms, an interior individual room stands, alone and quiet, without a glass window or a view of the sky and sun.

In the 1850s, the male or female resident had been assigned a personal house slave. The slave lived inside the tiny room that measured eight feet long by eight feet wide by fifteen feet high, who provided any service to its mistress or master.

In the 1920s, the line of interior slave quarters had been converted into an individual sitting room with a loveseat, a side table, and a book shelf of framed pictures and hard books. Or the tiny rooms became a new storage closet, with a closed door.

Breck slowly passes the first large room on the side wall without a wooden door, which is known as Pig Pen. Pig Pen is the farthest away room setting from the master bedroom, where their mother Arie sleeps.

Pig Pen is unoccupied now and displays three ratty, worn, brown-tinted chaise lounge chairs for three brothers to chat, play, and study.

He strolls ahead toward the second bedroom for Cinco while ignoring the interior furnishings, slowly approaching Flamingo's bedroom.

The bedroom door is open.

Inside the bedroom, Flamingo races around the room and collects an armful of items, dashing back to a soft cloth bag, dumping each item down into the dark interior.

Breck slowly paces by the open archway and spies on Flamingo. Flamingo does not notice and continues to race around the room and collect more items. Breck continues to spy and stares at the back spine on Flamingo, until his body passes the open archway, strolling ahead towards his own bedroom with mixed emotions of happy, jealousy, intrigue, and frustration.

The rest of the second story hallway displays consists of a guest bedroom in the sissy, girly colors of pink, yellow, and orange that exhibits a full-size bed frame, a side table, a vase of fake flowers, and a yellow sitting chair.

During his seventeen years of life, no person has ever stayed in the guest room. Each one of his blood relatives live, work, and play here in Lacy Springs.

The end of hallway displays a set of double doors in white wood that leads into the grand master bedroom.

Breck is not allowed inside the master bedroom and only has seen the interior room a couple of times with the door open. The rear wall contains a canopy bed frame which is draped in soft beige colors and rows of girly ruffles as his mother is a widower with three sons.

He turns and enters his private bedroom, strolling ahead towards the king-sized bed frame on the side wall. The tall headboard slams against the private lavatory wall near the entrance door. The opposite side wall hides a walk-in closet, where the open archway smiles at the open archway on the lavatory.

The entrance wall exhibits a wooden door frame and a built-in book shelf that flows from the ceiling down to the floor.

When Iredell learned of three newborn triplet grandsons, she designed and supervised the redecorating of the three bedrooms on the second floor, where her three grandsons would live, once her son had returned from his tour of duty.

Alas! Her son did not return alive from the war, but Arie arrived with her three tiny two-year-old sons, who immediately occupied the McCory cow ranch house.

Inside the bedroom, the forward wall views the side lawn through three individual glass windows, where both the sunrise and the sunset burn the glass and the sensitive eyeballs on Breck.

Three of bedroom walls are painted. The wall of windows is surrounded with white paint. Each side wall contains a bright red hue of color. Each ceiling plank is painted in a dull tan that does not clash with the red and white walls. The bedroom floor and the built-in shelf wall unit are composed of matching dull tan wood which does not clash each red and white wall either.

At the age of twelve years old, each son was allowed a new color theme inside their individual bedroom and then each wall was painted a little by each son and a lot by the professional painting company.

The color scheme has not been changed for five years. And each wall inside every room will not be changed until the announcement of a new infant grandchild from one of her future married sons.

Inside the bedroom, the side wall of red paint displays a king-sized bed mattress which is covered in a neat set of square patterns in the colors of rows of red, white, and black and holds a square-shaped headboard of tan in the design of slanted wooden planks, without a matching footboard. Two matching tan-colored wooden nightstands hug the wall and the mattress frame. Each nightstand contains a side lamp and other electronic objects, where his mobile telephone parks every night during his sleep ritual.

The rear wall of glass windows displays three individual short and squat dressers that hold four individual drawers each containing his personal clothing items.

On the opposite side wall, a solid wall of red paint displays an open walk-in wardrobe closet and a student work table in black chrome metal with a personal computer desktop, a personal laptop, a pile of blank paper notebooks, a tumbler of pencils and pens stand at attention and ready for use by the studiously high schooler. Breck almost completes each one of his school homework assignments at school, before the football practice session. So, he only sits at the student work station, unless he is surfing the internet for something special to annoy one or both of his brothers.

On the entrance wall, a curved black-tinted metal booth displays a blank television monitor which is surrounded by an individual curved control panel consisting of colored buttons, silver plated switches, and other metal gadgets, where the booth provides individual electronic game entertainment for Breck or an interactive section with other cyberspace friends, such like, Doyle or Yancy or Brett or one of his brothers.

Breck, sometimes, plays a set of electronic games late in the evening, if he is bored.

Between the two objects, in the middle of the red painted wall, two tall dresses with eight individual drawers contain more of his personal clothing items beside a full-length reflection mirror and a shoe stool for polishing his cowboy boots.

Coming from the hallway, moving into his bedroom, Breck turns the corner with a stern face and squats down staring on the bottom shelf on the side wall, reaching out and grabs his personal collection of shiny annual yearbooks from the eighth through eleventh grades at Lacy Springs High School. He grins and stands upright with the items back stepping from the rows of shelves, spinning around and shuffles ahead towards his nicely made bed covers and then leaps from the floor flying a few feet in the air. He lands on top of the bed covers with a smile and spreads each yearbook over the soft fabric opening the first book, scanning each photograph of each female. He is determined to identify the last virgin at Lacy Springs High School.

Two days later...

Thursday October 2nd

Hot temperatures with scattered rain showers

Lacy Springs High location

First period hour

AP classroom location

Each student has entered the first period classroom for another long day of academic school sessions.

Inside the AP classroom, in front of the white board, an unfamiliar male appears with a short and plump body frame, a tone of pale skin, and a pair of amber eyeballs, where a long brownish-gray tinted ponytail hangs from the nape of his neck. He wears a worn and dull dark brown tinted sports coat, pair of light tan colored trousers, a tan colored knit shirt, and a pair of worn but polished brown tinted cowboy boots. He stands without a hand full of paper note cards or in front of a speaking podium, staring at the room of senior AP high school students.

Principal Marshall stands and observes in the far wall corner, near the closed door, wearing a smile in silence. He has removed the other non-senior AP students down the hallway into a dull, beige-colored smaller room. The current AP chemistry teacher is conducting her usual class, without interference today.

Inside the current AP classroom, the unfamiliar male clears his throat and still does not smile but speaks out loud. "Good afternoon, I am Don Dunn. I possess a doctoral degree in American History. I am currently an academic professor at Birmingham University or Burn U. I am the one, who will determine if you qualify for the tough entrance and then terrible endurance within the annual College Honor Challenge. I do not like to waste time. I will start the interview process in alphabetic order which saves my time and your teenly heartache. The first senior candidate is named Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the fourth. Please stand up and show your person to me."

Flamingo gasps in alarm and then slowly stands upright from his student chair. His new sur-name is McCory, not Balegreen. So, he should interview down towards the bottom of the alphabetic list of letters.

Researchers always debate whether the first contestant is the luckiest or the unluckiest of the total competitors for winning the final game competition.

Flamingo gasps in alarm with worry as the first interviewee. "I..."

Dunn flips his hand with his stern face. "I'm afraid there is no time for a light chat-chit, young sir!" He spins around to face the open archway. "Follow me, Mr. Balegreen! This is your time to shine, not mine," he exits the room and dashes across the hallway, where the interview process is being conducted inside the small conference room.

Flamingo reaches down with a worried brow and collects a massive paper album that details a set of copied certificates, trophies, and report cards of his life, since the age of four years old. He swiftly struts ahead with a stern face. This is his time to impress the college professor and collect the credits at a fast pace to obtain his dream career as a medical physician.

The other AP senior students stare at the back spine on Flamingo and then view an open archway while each one feels fear, fright, and excitement too.

Flamingo enters and closes the wooden door into the small conference room across the hallway. Then each AP senior student looks down and flips through their individual paper album while silently rehearsing their speech of academic greatness for Dunn also.

McCory Cow Ranch, property of Arie McCory

Mohawk Patch setting

Hot temperatures with parted clouds of sunlight

03:03 pm

Breck and Cinco ride inside the same terrain vehicle. Breck drives, of course, as the older triplet.

Cinco bangs his hand onto the side pole without a musical rhyme, on purpose, and for a reason, which greatly annoys his brother Breck. He smiles. "I'll glad the coach released us early today from our football practice. Sometimes, I think that we over-practice the routines too much. Every football player knows the drills and the game plays. I'm ready for our Friday night football game," he continues to slap the pole again with laughter.

He drives around each short plant, tall tree, and wildflower patch and then frowns at the soft rattling from the side pole, "Hmm! The other superstar DL didn't look so hot today. What's wrong with our buddy Acton? He had some trouble getting up from the grass from each body hit."

Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and hits the metal rooftop with laughter, banging on the metal rooftop while annoying his brother, more, "Because I was practicing today on the offensive team this afternoon playing a left guard, I was blocking for Flamingo to pass the damn ball..."

"His head is filled with sugar plums of honor and challenge and college stuff. That's why Flamingo couldn't pass the damn ball to the wide receiver."

"Now, Breck!" Cinco smiles and drops both of his arms and then reaches over, slapping the naked arm on Breck for fun, slapping his hands down inside his lap. "Acton, he loves playing DT, defensive tackle. He likes the post as a defensive guard while trying to complete as many defensive tackles at the center line. He loves to rush the passer or sack the quarterback or do both at the same time, when he swiftly runs around the stupid offensive linemen that try to block for the quarterback. And he is very effective and efficient in stopping the advancing running plays at the line of scrimmage. Action is a great DT. He has hinted about maybe receiving a sports scholarship to Burn U. He also had been looked at by Bam U too."

He drives and nods. "Action is a great DT. What were you playing offensive football post today?"

Cinco laughs. "Because the purpose of an offensive lineman is advancing the active play with the wide receiver runs down the field and scores the winning touchdown. Didn't you learn that during our pee-wee football games, dude?"

"I know that, bro. I play football on the same team with you, since pee-wee football at the age of five years old."

Cinco frowns. "Well then, you didn't know this. Some of the O-line guys are hurt and will not play in the game on Friday night."

He gasps. "Who is hurt? How did they get hurt?"

"Their individual body injuries are actually minor with a set of sore joints and tons of fugly, ugly purple colored bruises, not a single broken limb. But the coach wants the O-line sitting out the Friday night game in preparation for our last game of the season. We are tied for the county championship with the Madison High School Jackasses. So, we need a big won..."

"One point is a win. The win doesn't have to be a big one."

Cinco smiles, "Anyways, we need to win that game and break that tie for the state football championship. Then we move ahead onto the first playoff game."

"We will win. I can feel it," he drives and laughs. "Is Acton sitting out the game on Friday also?"

"Naw."

"Acton, he didn't look too swift and too fast, like his usual self, this afternoon, during football practice."

Cinco slaps his chest with a grin. "Because, I was pumped up and hyped high with my new offensive guard post while continuing to hit Acton every time he stood upright from the grass, like an offensive guard is supposed to do."

He drives and frowns. "You're supposed to block the life of the quarterback or the runner back, not slam Acton down into the grass, every single time, Cinco."

"But it was fun, Mama!" Cinco laughs.

"Action couldn't have gotten badly hurt from your silly high school battery and assault charges, Cinco."

"Naw! Acton is tough a little boy like me," Cinco smiles. "We are going to wished that we had brought out the two terrain vehicles. The treasure crate that Flamingo described is two feet long by three feet wide and four feet deep. That's a tiny coffin for a dead kid."

Breck drives over each exposed tree root that rocks the vehicle side to side, saying with a sour frown. "That's a morbid mental mind thought, Cinco. And there ain't no treasure chest or treasure crate or treasure box of coins down inside that dugout hole. I'll dig through the dirt one more time, until I'm sweaty and tired. Then we call it done and go back home."

He stares at the pretty landscape and annoys Breck, saying with a smile. "I wished that Flamingo had come with us also."

"Flamingo is too busy with his new topo-morph..."

"No!" Cinco turns and sneers at the nose profile on Breck. "Do not say or use or reference that nasty word around me ever, again, Breck! That word brings up a set of terrible childhood memories that will take years to purge from my brain cells."

"Sorry!"

Cinco smiles. "Flamingo deserves to advance quickly through college using this College Honor Challenge thing. He'll pass this College Honor Challenge thing with his usual great accomplishments. And he has talked about becoming a medical physician for years and years. Now, his dreams are coming true. Don't you wanna graduate college and enter into law school?"

He drives and smiles. "After I have some fun and bang some college girls, then I'll be ready for law school," he laughs with Cinco.

Cinco nods with a grin. "Are you still hunting for that single virgin at LSH? Do you wanna me to hint at her name?"

"Naw."

"Yup."

"Nope."

"Yeah."

"No."

"Yes."

"We're here!" Breck slams the brake pads and as the terrain vehicle skis sideways. He kills the engine and then quickly slides out, reaching down, grabbing a shovel and a pick axe. He moves ahead with a sour frown and does not want to talk about Flamingo and his great accomplishment.

The three brothers are a set of identical triplets in looks, brains, and talents. Breck will figure out the last virgin at Lacy Springs High School, before he graduates next year in the month of May.

Breck stops and stands in the middle of the short mound of solid dirt, rearing back, slamming the pick axe down into the dirt using all his angry, annoyance, and brute strength of frustration.

Cinco climbs out the vehicle with a smile and grabs his tools, dashing ahead, stopping and stands on the opposite side of Breck. He slams the shove down into the wet dirt and tosses the soil to the side. If they swiftly work together, then they might hit the payload, before the sun sets in the western horizon.

04:04 pm

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

Lacy Springs High School location

AP classroom setting

Inside the AP classroom, Retta Jean sits inside one of the student chairs and says to Flamingo and the other seniors. "I believe my personal interview with Dr. Dunn went well."

The first AP senior student smiles at each teen. "My challenger interview went very well. Dr. Dunn smiled and told me that I did a good job."

Flamingo continues to sit and views the other eleven students.

There are thirteen AP students, who will share the thirteen valedictorians honor on graduation day. Each student has finished the face-to-face interview with Dunn and waits for the last student to complete the process, which started at four in the afternoon.

Dunn explained that each AP student must stay here inside the classroom until all the students completed the interview process.

The second AP senior female turns and smiles to each face, "My interview process lasted thirty minutes with Dr. Dunn."

The third AP senior male slaps his chest and grins. "My private and personal interview process with Dr. Dunn endured for one solid hour. I showed Dr. Dunn each single picture of my academic awards. He was very impressed with all my academic accomplishments. He commented on each picture with a nod."

Flamingo looks down and flips open the notebook that contains an electronic photograph of each one of his awards. He thinks back and realizes that his private and personal interview process had been a flat fifteen minutes of interview time.

Dunn had swiftly flipped through each page and sometimes skipped over the sporting activity pictures. Flamingo could understand that each sports trophy did not equate to an academic achievement. However, he possessed the tallest and thickest notebook among the twelve other senior AP students as he was played sports competitive games also.

The fourth AP senior female slaps her chest and smiles. "My personal and private interview had lasted for fifty-five minutes. I timed my time with Dr. Dunn. He was very impressed with my notebook, also, nodding and personally commenting on each picture of my award."

The fifth AP senior female frowns. "We will all be accepted into the College Honor Challenge today. I'm not sweating any ants. My interview process was twenty minutes flat."

The sixth AP senior male shakes his skull with a stern face. "No! That is not correct. Last year, there was not an AP senior from Lacy Springs selected for this honor. Does anyone remember hearing about the Honor College Challenge here last year? No! The governor had not given out award to Lacy Springs High School. So, we are not guaranteed a spot on the competitive score board. This is the point of the face-to-face interview and the silly notebook that reflects my life, since I was two years old."

The seventh AP senior laughs. "Did you really place a photograph of your person at the age of two years old inside your silly lifetime notebook?"

The sixth AP senior male laughs. "Yes, I did. Dr. Dunn found the picture very amusing. This is real life, young inexperienced people. We are moving out of student-hood into adulthood, when we turn eighteen years old. We use our imagination and creativity which separates me from the crowd of the gifted or ordinary. This is the purpose of the interview. Dr. Dunn is separating the losers from the winners. Then, the set of winners will be accepted into the College Honor Challenge. But you must conquer the challenge then."

"I didn't know," the eighth AP senior female frowns.

The sixth AP senior male nods, "I did know."

"I'm worried now," the ninth AP senior male frowns.

The sixth AP senior male smiles, "You should be worried."

"I am scared to death now," the tenth AP senior male frowns.

The sixth AP senior male nods. "You should be scared to death right now."

The tenth AP senior female frowns. "I really wanted to receive as many additional college credits, so I can obtain my college degree, swifter and faster than a regular college student. I'm planning to attend law school where the student competition is stiff and cut-throat. I'm afraid now that I will not get into law school, if I have to wait four more years."

The sixth AP senior male sneers. "You should be very afraid right now."

Each student, including Flamingo, turns and stares out the open archway from inside the AP classroom, viewing the closed conference room door, where the last AP senior interviews with Dunn.

04:11 pm

Mohawk Patch mountain location

Grave site setting

Over the past hour, the two brothers have tossed out each dirty, broken horse bone over the solid ground and then slowly have moved ahead meeting in the middle of the midden and clearing more of the dirt. The new hole is about two feet wide and four feet down from the grassy surface. Both the brothers are sweaty and smelly perspiring in volumes of wetness underneath the heated sunlight, since three o'clock in the afternoon. They have made marvelous progress down into the grave site without Flamingo's extra pair of hands and two strong biceps.

Cinco slams the pick axe down into the dirt sounding with a heavy grunt. Then Breck shovels the loose dirt from the site, moving deeper down into the hole.

Cinco slams the pick axe into the dirt again and opens a new vein of dirt and as an unpleasant odor drifts up in the air waves. The new stinky odor does not bother the nostrils on Cinco. He is used to the smell while working around the herd of horses on the ranch.

Breck swiftly back steps with a sour frown and holds both of his nostrils moving away from the new hole down inside the ground and sounds with a funny timber. "I think we hit one or two or a million fresh piles of horse shit from that dead horse. I didn't know a dead horse shit out its brains inside the grave..."

He continues to dig between a set of deep breath. "The horse didn't make the fresh set of shit piles. This is a new clue or lead. We're getting really close to the treasure chest. The original grave digger, which was probably our ancient grandfather, carefully dug out a hole and then set the shitty trap to perturb and detour a silly teen like you, Breck," Cinco laughs alone.

Breck frowns. "Wrong as usual, bro! I don't think that deep-ass ground has received too much draining rainwater from too many numerous thunderstorms around the valley going down into the grave site, since the beginning of time. Poo-wee! That shit stinks to high heaven. Let's quit for the day!"

"Naw!" He continues to dig with a stern face and a set of heavy grunts slapping the pick axe over and over down into the soft pile of horse shit, a heap of fermented dead tree leaves and pieces of tree limbs that came from Mother Nature.

Breck continues to step backwards and then stops sitting on top of the flat tree stump, wiping off the sweat with the wet cloth out from his backpack while staring at Cinco.

He looks down and examines the new dirty stationary object. "I hit something hard."

Breck continues to sit on top of the flat tree stump and laughs. "It's your foot. Are you bleeding really good now? Do I need to tote your big body to the terrain vehicle and then rush your injured body back home to the hospital emergency room, bro?"

He drops down into the hole and stares at the dirt gently spreading the dirt from the fixed object. "No! I hit something hard that doesn't break. It's the treasure chest."

"It is a fable, Cinco."

"Naw. It's the truth, Breck. Come over here!" He starts digging down into the dirt and tosses out the soil to the side of the hole, seeing a stationary object in wood. "Look at this! I found an ancient wooden box that's covered in fossilized horse shit and wet leaves. I found it. I found a dirty, old, nasty wooden crate, Breck. I found the lost wooden crate of something. Come over here!"

Breck swiftly stands with a gasp and moves ahead towards the hole inside the mound. "I don't believe it. I can't be it. Did you actually find an ancient wooden crate down there in that dead horse's tomb with piles of petrified shit and dried ancient leaves and branch twigs?" Cinco separates the dirt with a smile and then wiggles the wooden box out from the soil slapping it on top of the semi-flat dirt. Breck stops at the hole then gasps in alarm. "You found it. Open it!"

He drags the pick axe from the dirt and stands upright from the ground, slamming the tip on top of the ancient cracked wooden planks. The old wooden crate easily breaks open and reveals its guts. Cinco jumps up and down inside the deep hole. "Gold coins, I found gold. I'm rich, rich, rich, rich..."

Breck drops on the ground with a gasp and reaches down into the open box touching each object, drawing one toward his smile. "You have found a small wooden ancient crate of Confederate coins, not gold coins."

He stops jumping then smiles down at the box of glittering coins. "The coins could be worth thousands of dollars or millions of dollars or billions of dollars. I don't need to go to college now."

Breck frowns down at the golden coins inside the ancient wooden box. "That's not the right attitude to possess, Cinco. A college education will open your mind up to new ideas. If you don't wanna go to college and open your mind, then you can use your part of the mama's money and send another male or female to college."

He smiles, "That's a great plan. I plan to do that, after I become a billionaire at the age of seventeen years old. I'll be the youngest billionaire ever at the age of seventeen years old."

Breck frowns and studies the coin. "The words around the rim of the coin states Confederacy States America. This is a half-dollar coin with an ugly nose profile on Lady Liberty in the year 1861. The coin measures two inches in diameter in bright gold." He looks up with a smile to see Cinco. "You know, that old fake Pioneer Trading Post collects ancient coins and money and stuff. I bet that lady down there could tell us how much this box of gold coins is worth in millions of US dollar?"

He reaches down and touches the coins. "That Trading Post purchases any and all historical artifacts and can offer us a real pretty penny. The Post likes to show off all the local artifacts which attract the stupid city slickers inside the Trading Post for making a quick financial profit. Great idea, Breck! I can send a digital picture of the coin with the camera on my mobile telephone. Look up the website blog for me! I'll take the pic and then you send our coin to the web mistress. I know that Miss Isabella runs the store."

Breck nods, "Great idea, Cinco!"

He whips out his mobile telephone and snaps a digital picture of one single coin. "Okay. I snapped the pic. Now, pitch the pic into the website."

Breck looks down and stares at the tiny screen, typing on the tiny keyboard, saying with a smile. "I received your text message. And I have sent the pic to the Lacy Springs Trading Post website. Now, we wait!"

He dances around the grass and as each clump of dried mud and loose blades of grass fall off his upright body singing and whistles in happiness. "There's a full box of gold coins in here. We are rich, rich, rich, rich..."

Breck climbs out from the hole and leans down gathering the tools. "While we wait on the clerk, we need to gather our stuff and ride back to the house, before Grandmother McCory gets mad at us, if we come in late this evening."

Cinco twirls around and bends down, collecting the tools and his gear, singing with a smile. "We are rich, rich, rich, rich..."

They exit from Mohawk Patch for their house, before sunset.

McCory Cow Ranch location

Kitchen setting

05:05 pm

Iredell sits at the breakfast table and prepares the food menu for the rest of the week for her three grandsons, looking up to see a pair of dirty relatives. "Back so soon! Did you strike out?"

Dirty and smelly Cinco struts across the room, stops, and then kneels on the tile, dropping a small wooden crate on the floor, saying with a smile. "We strike gold. We found golden coins, Grandmother. Look at this!" He lifts one coin and hands to her.

She accepts the dull green tinted coin and wiggles the coin near her smile. "The first set of coins in the world appeared in the year 700 BC which were made of pure gold and silver earth minerals. The chemical inactivity in gold means that after years of weather elements, underground burial, and exposure to the corrosive chemical in the soil, the gold still gleams like that day if that been struck. Over the centuries, base metals, such like, nickel, copper, lead, iron ore, have been added to each new coin.

"A newly minted coin is lustrous but slowly become tarnished, such like, a copper or bronze coin becomes coated with in a green patina. The light-green power is the result on the interaction of water, oxygen, and chloride ions. This corrosion break-downs the metal making the coin brittle. A true silver coin turns a grey hue on impact from oxygen molecules. If an ancient silver coin displays a blue hue, then its decomposition surface is comprised of silver compounds. In the 1820s, the new United States of America was experiencing its first gold rush. Mined gold nuggets and pieces of large and small rocks tried to travel through the US States of South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Virginia heading towards the Philadelphia Mint factories. However, the box of shiny earth rocks ended up stolen and all the Federal guards were killed. So, the Old South opened its own mint factory, within the land property of Georgia, on March, the third, in the year 1835, which was named the Dahlonega Mint Factory producing the first gold coins, in the year 1838. In the year 1861, the Civil War came. The governor of Georgia attacked and then ceased the Dahlonega Mint Factory, in the month of March producing more gold coins for the new Confederacy Government. But there weren't enough shipped or borrowed or stolen pots of gold nuggets for striking a set of additional gold coins, so the mint factory was closed shut in June, in the year 1861. The last gold coins had been produced, in the month of April, in the year 1861."

The mobile telephone sings with a musical scale indicating a new text message on Breck's personal mobile telephone.

Cinco leans over with a smile and views the screen on Breck's mobile telephone. "How much millions are we worth, dude?"

The Trading Post clerk types out a text message: **The Confederacy Lady Liberty coin is an iron steel re-strike which is worthless.**

Breck reads the new text message and wears a sour frown, "Zero millions! This type of coin is called a re-strike."

Cinco frowns at the screen with the text message. "A what? What is a re-strike?"

She smiles. "The Confederacy State of America issued two coins. A one-cent coin and a fifty-cent coin are worth thousands of US dollars. However, among the CSA coins, there are many counterfeits and cheap imitations. After the Civil War, at the New Orleans Mint factory, numerous individual 1861 re-strikes had been filed down from a batch of legitimate 1861 gold coin halves striking them with reverse die. O! The original gold coins were melted down and then the liquid gold was mixed with a different mineral like silver or steel or iron or copper."

Cinco smiles, "O! Then are the Confederation coins a collection item? How much? How much money did I get?"

She shakes her gray curls. "I'm afraid that each fake Confederate coin will sell for zero cents to zero dollars, Cinco."

Cinco frowns, "A great big bust of sweat and blood!"

Breck tosses both of his dirty arms and wiggles his dirty hands in the air, nodding with a stern face. "Look! Now, I know. Now, I understand." He waves both palms in the air. "McCory invented the entire Native American Indian fairy tale to cover his ass. Now, we are his descendants, the new McCory clan. There is not a box of golden coins or golden bars or silver coins or silver bars. The end. Good night! I'm getting a bath and coming back down to eat three plates of food," he drops his arms and slaps his dirty blue jeans, spinning around and exits the kitchen setting for his private bathroom.

Iredell smiles at Cinco. "I'm sorry, Cinco. The coins are fake gold and fake coins. So, what are you going to do with the crate of fake coins, Cinco?"

Cinco slides down off the chair and lifts the wooden crate over his collar bone, slowly standing upright from the floor, saying with a smile. "I found my treasure and I'm keeping my gold," he exits the kitchen with an evil laugh.

She turns and smiles at the back spine on her grandson in silence.

Friday October 3rd

Warm temperatures with bright sunshine

Lacy Springs High School location

Student parking lot setting

07:40 am

The sun brightly shines among the scattered white clouds on a very warm October morning.

The square-shaped, black-tinted, paved parking lot appears like a three-ring circus without the wild animals. One side on parking smooth lot displays a short, elevated platform which is covered in three pieces of tan colored lumber and brightly painted with a row pale blue-colored, hand-made football shapes.

On top of the elevated platform, rows of colorful metal folding chairs hold a sitting football player and each assistant football coach.

On one side of the platform, several feet from the wooden edge, the high school marching band sits down in a chair and plays the fight song over and over, again. Each color guard flag bearer, pom-pom dancer, rifle twirler, and majorette spin an individual object with the beat of the musical song and wears a smile.

Violet twirls her baton and dances side to side while standing in line of other short and tall majorettes in front of the sitting band members.

The students and musical songs celebrate the upcoming football game at seven pm today.

On the other side of the platform, several feet from the other edge, a group of mature and elderly ladies are preparing individual platters of food and beverages for the growing crowd of students, parents, friends, and guests.

From the roadway, three individual vehicles slowly steer through a crowded parking lot and finally find an empty parking spot on the far side of the campus, parking side by side.

Breck kills the engine with a smile and opens the truck door, sliding out from the driver's seat, humming the familiar musical song that plays from the Lacy High School Marching Band. He slams the door shut and does not lock the trunk pocketing the key fob down inside his blue jeans and slowly moves ahead. He claps to the musical beat, stops, and stands at the end of the closed tailgate on his truck waiting for his two brothers.

Cinco kills the engine and flings his leg off the blue tinted racing motorcycle dashing ahead and stops beside the red sports car. He opens the passenger door and drops his motorcycle helmet down into the tan leather passenger seat leaning down, snatching up the metal box and slowly stands cuddling the item. He slams the door shut with a smile and spins around humming with the beat of the same musical fight song for the Lacy High Football team and moves ahead towards one of his childhood friends first and stops. He passes out numerous items from his personal metal box to each friend with a smile and scoots ahead looking for more high school friends, without his girl Babbie.

Flamingo kills the engine and opens the car door, sliding out from the driver's seat, wearing a smile and slams the door shut. He locks the car and drops the key fob down into his pocket on his cargo pants. He slowly moves ahead, stops, and stands with Breck clapping with the musical song.

They slowly pace ahead wearing their football jersey shirt in the color of pale blue with a set of gold tinted numbers that displays a white-tinted standing pigeon design on one sleeve.

This is the first week in the month of October. There are three football games left to play in the school season.

Every year, on the first Friday, in the month of October, the Lacy Springs High school alumni office invite all teachers, parents, college students, and the rest of the citizens within the small cow town of Lacy Springs to a morning breakfast Pep Rally for all the students and the football team players. The fun pep rally is really for the parents remembering the good old days from their past youth while celebrating with their family members, friends, neighbors, employee co-workers, their children, and numerous tables of home cooked good food.

In front of the stage platform, on the second row of dancing cheerleaders, Babbie shakes her stuff with the other girls while cheering for the football team. She dances to the same musical song with a line of short and tall cheerleaders and wears her pale blue and white tinted cheerleader uniform trying to wave at her boyfriend Cinco while twirling around in a tight circle with a fake smile. However, Cinco is slowly pacing around the parking lot and talking to his friends, instead of paying attention to Babbie for some strange reason.

Among the rows of parked vehicles, both Breck and Flamingo move ahead. Then Flamingo veers away from Breck, struts towards the band section on top of the paved parking lot, and finally stops in front of the line of pretty majorettes. The majorette line continues to twirl to the musical song. Flamingo sways his hips and waves both of his arms in the air, like his girl Violet, while winking and smiling only at her. She laughs at his silly teenly performance.

From the row of parked vehicles, Yancy dashes ahead towards the stage platform looking down at his cupped hands and then slams into the rib cage on Breck. He quickly back steps with a gasp and drops some of his treasure on the pavement, squatting down, collecting his booties. He stands upright and grins down at his hands again.

Breck looks down and frowns at the loose items inside the cupped palms on Yancy. "What! What is that?"

He looks up and smiles at Breck. "Cinco, he gave me a pot of gold, well actually a handful of gold."

Breck tips back the rim of his cowboy hat and examines some of the coins. "That's a Confederacy coin, not a gold coin, Yancy."

He nods. "Yeah, Cinco told me that when he gave it to me. The coins are made of shiny bright gold."

Breck looks up and scans the parking lot for Cinco wearing a sour frown while talking to Yancy. "The coin is a re-strike, which means it is composed mostly of steel, not gold. The Confederate Government ran out of gold nuggets. That's why lost the Civil War," he laughs alone.

Yancy frowns at the nose profile on Breck. "O! Is that why we lost the Civil War? I thought it was because of the cold weather and the Confederate soldiers didn't have any boots to wear or food to eat."

Breck frowns at his friend. "Did you actually read one chapter of ancient USA history inside your American History textbook, last year, Yancy?"

He frowns. "O! Was I supposed to do that last year in the eleventh grade? No one told me to read one chapter inside my American History textbook."

Breck looks up and smiles while waving down Cinco. "Well, someone should have told you to do that." Cinco dashes ahead, stops, and stands in a loose huddle with Breck and Yancy. Breck turns and stares down at the open box inside Cinco's crooked arm. "What are you doing with that box of coins, bro?"

Cinco reaches inside and snatches up a coin holding near his smile. "I'm passing coins out to my friends. Do you want one, dude?"

Breck looks down at the open metal box that contains a small amount of the Confederacy coins. "No. Where did Flamingo go? We're all supposed to go and sit down on top of the elevated platform before the speeches."

A couple of high school students stops and stands beside Cinco, nodding at the coin in silence. Cinco passes out a handful of the worthless coins to each high school student and says with a smile. "There, you go, dude! Flamingo is an un-pretty majorette now. He's leading the girls in a new routine as the band plays," he continues to pass out handful of the worthless coins to each new high school student. "Here, you go! Enjoy!"

Breck huffs with annoyance and spins around staring at the butt-hole on a dancing Flamingo. "Come on, Cinco! Let's go and get Flamingo and then sit down with the other football players. This is our day of play."

Yancy looks up and smiles at Cinco. "Am I going to become rich now, Cinco?"

Cinco empties out the metal box to the last set of student and then laughs. "No. But you could be famous, Yancy. You'll be the first redneck that discovered a lost wooden box of steel Confederacy coins that came from here with our town of Lacy Springs."

Yancy gasps. "O! I'm not going to be rich."

"Naw, Yancy!" Breck reaches over and jerks Yancy ahead towards the etched platform that holds the football team players for the morning celebration. "Where's your keeper, Yancy?"

Yancy frowns, "Who?"

"Where's Doyle?"

Yancy nods with a grin towards the elevated platform, where rows of football players both sit and stand before the ceremony. "Doyle, he's talking with the assistance coaches on top of the platform."

Breck shoves Yancy hard and moves him towards the platform. "Then, get your ass over there and show him your shiny non-golden Confederacy coins. He'll become green pea with jealousy."

The football player carefully moves ahead with a smile and continues to cup both of his palms cuddling the worthless coins. "Yeah, I can do that."

Breck turns and tracks the butt-hole on Yancy, who moves out of hearing range. "I wonder about that boy!" He shifts his feet and struts ahead with a sneer towards Flamingo. Flamingo continues to dance side to side in his flip-flops and waves both of his naked hands at each girl while like a dancing idiot entertaining the pretty line of majorettes. The only requirement to become a majorette is prettiness, not smarts or talents. Most of the girls can't twirl a baton but can stand with a pretty smile. And each girl is a beauty queen at the local high school or throughout the county from winning too many beauty pageants.

Breck stops with a sour frown and stands behind Flamingo in silence.

Some of the majorettes miss the twirl sequence and wink waving at Flamingo's triplet cute and handsome brother Breck, who is now single and available, to boot.

Breck nods with a smile to the attentive majorettes and reaches out, grabbing one of the waving arms on his triplet brother, jerking Flamingo backwards into his rib cage. They cuddle with a set of heavy grunts in body pain and then slowly scoot sideways, moving ahead towards the elevated platform that has been built for the football team players.

Breck laughs into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "Are you a girl or a guy, today, Flamingo?"

Flamingo laughs. "I don't know. Is my hair styled correct?" He laughs with his two brothers.

Cinco, Breck, and Flamingo move ahead and slap a back spine or a shake a hand with some of the standing male audience members while working ahead towards a platform stage of colorful folding chairs. Some of the football teammates are sitting down clapping with the music. Some of the football players are standing upright dancing to the music.

The triplet brothers stop and stand in front row, which has been reserved for the senior football team players as this time of year is close to ending the football season. They sit down and clap with the beat of the high school fight song.

Then, the marching band fight song stops.

The rows of football team cheerleaders sit down on top of the short stool in front of the elevated platform and continue to smile and wave at the gathered audience of students, parents, teachers, friends, neighbors while listening to the action.

Principal Marshall wears his old football high school, pale blue tinted jersey with the number 66 and moves ahead, stops standing without a podium in front of the rows of cheerleaders and football players, holding a hand-held microphone. He tosses his free hand in the air and shouts with a smile. "Welcome to all! Welcome to the first week of October! This is our Oktoberfest that honors and celebrates the beginning of the fall festival and the falling into the last three football games. We are number one..."

The audience chants out loud and tosses an arm in the air with an index finger, which is the visual sing for number one, "Number one...number one...number one..."

Marshall waves his free arm and controls the wild chanting. "Yes, we are number one in the great State of Alabama. And we are all here to encourage and support our undefeated number one football team, Lacy Springs High," he claps with the audience for a few seconds and then shouts down into the microphone. "And we are here to feed our undefeated number one football team for Lacy Springs High also," he laughs with the audience. "And finally, before we eat our wonderful breakfast meal this morning let us worship and pray together for all the good things within our individual life and for the other lives also. Let to pray together like Brother Jesus wants us to do. Brother Neap."

Brother Neap possesses a short, round body frame, wearing a wide smile, a set of straight white teeth, and a head of balding gray hair. He nods to the crowd then drops his chin bow down into his chest shouting into the microphone for every pair of earlobes. "Lord and Almighty God, good Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all of our heavenly angels, thank you for our body, our mind, and our stomach. Thanks to our home, our food, and our family, friends, neighbors, and enemies. And finally, thank you for being here for us. We are honored with your presence here and on the football field tonight. Amen!"

The crowd of teachers, parents, and students continues to look down and shouts out loud, "Amen!" Each face looks up with a smile to see the preacher or turn to see the food tables.

Marshall looks up and points to the side parking lot and smiles at the rows of tables. "The food tables are filled with good-smelling trays of breakfast food items. Everyone, please be polite and wait your turn first. Then enjoy the free hot meal second. And there will be class right after the breakfast meal." The students shout out loud with a string of boos.

He smiles, "Now, now! By Alabama state law, each class will meet for ten minutes for a roll call and a day of football championship discussion. Then, the entire student body will return here for the lunch period with more truckloads of free hot food," he claps with the other students. "Now, everyone, enjoy and meet and mangle with fun. Also, the game starts at seven pm today, so bring your smile and your fight. LSH! LSH!"

The audience chants with the three letters and moves ahead, forming a line at each food table, "LSH...LSH..."

The football team receives the first honor of filling an empty plate and then moves around the parking lot mingling with students and guests. Flamingo stands in a huddle with his friends and two brothers next to his girl Violet and holds their food plate. She smiles and slowly feeds his face sounding with a giggle of happiness.

Retta Jean appears with a plate of food and stands in front of Flamingo, wearing a stern face, pointing with her free hand at the school building. "Professor Dunn has arrived back at the school. He wants all the senior AP students to come directly to the AP classroom right now."

"He is. He does. I'm there. Let's go!" He leans over and swiftly hands both platters of food to Violet and as Violet swiftly jiggles the two heavy plates and wears a sour frown. Flamingo also takes the plate from Retta Jean and hands the dirty dish to his girl Violet as well without saying thank you or kissing her face or saying goodbye.

Violet struggles to hold three plates of used food. Breck quickly scoots beside Violet and takes two of the food plates and sneers at his brother's rude non-gentleman manners.

Flamingo and Retta Jean spin around with a smile and rush ahead towards the school building while chatting about the surprise visit from Professor Dunn.

Flamingo says. "Has Professor Dunn hinted about the number of AP students that made the cut from Lacy High yet?"

Retta Jean frowns. "No. He didn't say anything but to round up the AP students for an immediate announcement."

He gasps. "He has selected the AP students already. That was very quick."

"Yes, it is very scared too."

He frowns. "Yeah, it is."

They enter the building with some of the other AP students and as the rest of the students stand outside in the warm weather and enjoy the food and their guests.

First period hour

AP classroom location

08:33 am

Flamingo and Retta Jean enter the AP classroom in silence and scoot down into an empty chair anywhere while waiting for the rest of the senior AP students.

The last student enters as the electronic door automatically closes behind her back spine. She quickly slides down into an empty chair and slaps her palms on top of the empty desk surface while staring at Professor Dunn.

Dunn appears short, plump, pale skin, a brown grayish pony tail, wearing the same dull-looking attire from the last visit to the school, hopefully after being washed and laundered. He stands without a hand full of paper note cards and not in front of a speaking podium staring at each senior AP students.

Principal Marshall is not present; but the chemistry AP teacher stands in the wall corner and wears a smile in silence feeling pride for her senior students. The other AP students are enjoying a free breakfast meal with their school friends, family members, and invited guests outside on the school's parking lot with the football players and marching band members.

Dunn clears his throat and still does not smile but speaks out loud for each pair of eardrums, staring into each pair of eyeballs. "The famous antebellum architectural style was characterized in the Old South within the USA, especially here in Alabama, which was stolen from the Greek civilization. The Greek Revival-style building of Old Rome in the year 64 A.D. displayed a raised brick foundation and four tall monumental columns spanning the front portico. The Old South prospered after the birth of the United States, after each crop farmers and metal blacksmith worker fought, some died, and but eventually won the American Revolutionary War, in the year 1776 from a nasty and evil King George of Great Britain. As the cotton crop farms grew and spread with tons of money and working slaves, the Old South revived the Greek Revival-style into beautiful cotton plantations with huge residential manors and smaller houses, which eventually led into the start of the American Civil War, in the year 1861. Within the Greek culture of classical architecture, there are three forms: Ionic, Doric, and Corinthian. The Ionic column is slender, taller, and fluted with twenty-four shafts.

"Two huge flights of curved granite steps attaching to a raised granite porch on the front façade of a typical Old South antebellum manor are built with the left side intended for the lady belles and right side for the gentle beaus. The steps for the men are quickly identified by each imprinted boot scrape at the bottom of granite. This creation of two separate steps existed so that the men would not see the women's naked or covered ankle bones, which was considered a severe breach of etiquette during pre-Civil War times."

He clears his throat and still does not smile but speaks out loud. "Good afternoon! I am the one who will determine the number of academic classes that you do not get in your personal College Honor Challenge," he smirks. "And I have just described the academic elements which are needed to complete and receive college credit n the freshman college courses in geography, history, science, algebra, and art.

"Dr. Dunn, you didn't use the element of music." One of the smart AP senior students raises a hand and nods with a smile.

He sings off key with a smile, "Amazing grace. How great thou art..." he chuckles. "My musical note for the day, ya'll. Now, I have demonstrated all the required elements of your personal dissertation, which will be presented next Friday morning. You can guess by now that each one of you has been accepted into the College Honor Challenge here at Lacy Springs High School. This project is very similar to an independent challenge using all your learned thirteen years of schooling. You all are about to enter college, not the first grade. There is no hand-holding, no brow beating, no cookie tray, no potty breaks, and no discussion questions with me. I will not be available to answer or address any questions about the challenge. You get to use your brains for that one. Your chosen college Honor Challenge topic is the Land of Yazoo..."

"Is that related to the Land of Oz coming from the child's book by author Frank Baum, in the year 1900?" A second AP senior female shouts out loud with puzzlement.

"Are you referencing the Land of Cotton here in Bama?" A third AP senior male laughs with some of the other students.

Dunn nods with a stern face. "The College Honor Challenge is not related by an association to the former mentioned two literature subjects. This is your quest for the College Honor Challenge as a brilliant and accomplished senior student here in the advanced placement section of your high school. Your oral presentation is not limited in time or scope, but you must type out and print off turning into me a research paper which is not limited by the number of words or the number of pages either. The College Honor Challenge invites a highly successful high school student with a 4.01 or higher GPA. If you only achieve a flat 4.00, then you are too stupid for my challenge. I created and credited this ingenious academic college enrollment program giving an overachiever like myself an opportunity to exceed and excel beyond the college classroom experience. The invited, not selected, there is a big difference between the two adjectives. The invited high schooler is first commended and then second recommended by the principal from your high school in which you have fulfilled any formal prerequisites that is required by Burn U administration for a particular set of college classroom courses, such like, writing compositions, reading a foreign language, analyzing calculus matrixes, oral presentations in history, and programming in any computer language. Your academic performance has been demonstrated and exhibited within each AP class course plus supervised by your high school instructor which has given each one of you a chance to succeed in the College Honor Challenge.

"There are fifty course credits within twenty disciplines which are available to the brave and bold Challenger, who is you. The College Honor Challenge curriculum is designed to offer additional credits for all your future college workload. The Challenge builds both adult character and confidence in your readiness for placement into the advanced core level studies at the college junior student level. The Challenge gives the high schooler the opportunity both academically and financially to by-pass both the freshman and sophomore regular curriculum, jumping right into your field of study as a junior college student. Does that sound sweet?" He softly chuckles with some of the students.

He clears his throat and then smiles. "I was like you, years ago. I knew exactly what I wanted to do, and what I wanted to achieve, and I then did it. Now, today, this is your day to achieve that academic challenge too. There were over 1,018 invited high schoolers from 480 State of Alabama High Schools. We received confirmation of hundred percent, a very high compliment for Burn U. So, there are thirteen AP students here at the host institution for north Alabama, Lacy Springs High School in the town of Lacy Springs. I want to thank Principal Marshall for hosting the annual event this year during the official Alabama Spring Breck, I mean, Break. I would like to thank the Lacy Springs High School support staff that has provided guidance and rows of delicious food tables for the College Honor Challenge event also. And I want to congratulation each one of you. You are here finally. Only one representative was invited from your local high school, the most obvious invitation came from the Governor of Alabama. But that is not important any more. The most important concept to accept and understand is the grading rubric that has been created and designed by me as the lone wolf representative of Burn U. This is my challenge and my contribution to maintain the highest academic overachievers at Birmingham University. The University is a state-own and operated post-graduate institution. And, we as fellow Alabamians know and love our excellent football university team with their many, many University National Championship Football Titles..."

"Burn U!" A teen male voice cheers out loud for amusement.

Dunn frowns in silence for a few seconds and then says with a stern face. "Each Challenger has received on this fine heated Friday morning coming from your principal the secret, but same exact academic question inside the envelope allowing you to tackle the topic, like the winning football team here LSH. I allow you to tackle the single subject matter from any geometric angle. I worked very hard in expanding the curriculum to include numerous and creative college courses. You are sitting here with me today as a future college sophomore student, who is eager and ready to enter your foot step on top of that familiar and patented red brick tinted steps as a true college student. Because, each one of you have achieved the maximum allowed thirty-two college credit hours in various plain old boring repetitive courses, such as, biology, chemistry, computer programming, economics, engineering, literature, foreign language, history, music, mathematics, physics and planet science.

"Interesting enough! Thirty-three college credit hours divided by the number three for each course is sadly only eleven different subjects, in which you have finished out of the total of 132 total credit hours that are required to receive a college degree. That mathematically is one hundred more college credit hours of boring academic courses inside a boring classroom with all the other lame-brains, who are there for the beer and pretzels on every Saturday afternoon football game."

One of the female teens shouts out loud. "That's not me, man!"

Dunn smiles. "Therefore, the College Honor Challenge provides a few brilliant high schoolers with the greatest opportunity increasing their college work load while achieving an additional ten courses for additional thirty hours. Some of the challenge disciplines include art, archeology, anthropology, art, geography, and histories of Europe, the United States, and the Ancient World. Ironically, if you happen not to achieve the additional three credit hours in the college class for the History of the United States, then I will be teaching your eager young brilliant mind as I am the professor for that curse, I mean, course, there at Burn U. Therefore, I do hope not to see you," he laughs.

"The other expanded college courses for credit include psychology, philosophy, sociology American Government, political science, human development, marine sciences, and statistics. Within the matrix of any university curriculum, a freshman student must complete 32 college credits. A college sophomore student completes an additional 31 college credits for a total of 63 credits. As a brilliant high school senior student here within the College Honor Challenge, you have the right and might to earn the 31 credits and more by-passing the sophomore status jumping into your desirous major at Burn U. And I might add at no additional financial money cost to you or your parents. Tell me! Why should a student be penalized or expensed for being a genius? Hmm! This is my basis of the College Honor Challenge. So, I wish each one of you good luck! O! The grading rubric is subjective to my interpretation only."

"How am I to know if I have received any college credits towards my sophomore statues without a fixed boundary?" The fourth student frowns.

Dunn laughs. "That's the point here, high schooler. Life is without boundaries. College is without walls. High school limits your mind and your imagination. I do not. You have been assigned the college challenge for your honor, not mine. You are to present an oral presentation of unlimited minutes, mind, and imagination and allowed to use only visual or written aids to assist your argument here, without the benefits of the electronic world."

The fifth student frowns. "Why is that, Professor Dunn? I have an older sister. She uses her personal mobile telephone to tape recorder each one of her college lectures and then uploads the typed papers through the internet within college network. You seem to be taking us back to the cavemen and dinosaurs age."

Dunn slaps his chest with a smile. "I am an old fossil myself. And I am the one who rules here within the College Honor Challenge. Or you are welcome to shuffle your teen body through that closed metal door and outta of my face. Does anyone want to leave?"

The room is silence.

He nods, "Excellent decision, AP students! I have made my academic point. Life is without boundaries, but authority overflows into each boundary. I can't wait for you to rip open the paper envelope without the world of electronics and killing off more tall shade trees. So, the hot topic for your research college paper is the _Land of Yazoo_. The _Land of Yazoo_ could be a hot or cold geographical spot within the USA and is relatively unknown among the academic and scientific worlds of men and women. Thus, the unique academic topic is an excellent endeavor into past ancient world history and maybe making some future world history here. The date of your oral presentation is Friday morning here starting at eight o'clock. Each challenger can use as much time as needed to present and then argue their points about the unknown _Land of Yazoo_ people, customs, culture, food, and any of the other topics that make up a lost civilization. I have finished my shared information. I am leaving the high school campus to attend another meeting at another high school host in the central of the state. You are welcome to start working on your College Honor Challenge presentation. Good luck! Good bye! And God speed," he exits the room without fanfare nodding to the AP teacher.

Each student turns and smiles at each other swiftly standing upright, exiting the classroom for the library starting the hunt the _Land of Yazoo_ academic topic within the College Honor Challenge.

Saturday October 4th

Hot temperatures with bright sunshine

McCory Cow Ranch

10:10 am

Pig Pen setting

Breck rolls out of his bed mattress later in the sunny morning from the football game last night and washes up his semi-clean body from sleep and then dresses for a weekend day of play, without any teenly plans or a teenly girlfriend. He slowly moves out from his private bedroom and wears a pair of tan walking short, a white short-sleeved shirt, and a pair of naked feet entering through the archway inside the Pig Pen room and then stops, scanning an empty and quiet room.

His brothers Flamingo and Cinco are both missing from the playful man cave atmosphere.

He back steps from the archway with a smile and spins around slowly moving down a quiet and empty hallway while listening for a set of faint voices.

The hallway space and each private bedroom are quiet and empty also.

His mother Arie and her new fiancé A.J. left the McCory cow ranch vacationing around the world and will not be home until the end of the week, after signing a piece of paper which modified her sur-name from Balegreen to McCory, which was the original name of her father-in-law. Then they left behind the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs and her triplet sons for a fun trip around the world without a return date.

Breck strolls down the grand staircase seeing any empty entrance hall also. He hits the floor and turns the corner, seeing a set of closed doors into each parlor room.

From previous past months, lots of interaction had occurred in those two rooms with his family members and his school friends.

He moves down the narrow hallway and turns to see each open archway passing the living room setting first and then halts with a grin. He back steps and enters the room with a chuckle.

The living room setting contains four walls that stand 20 feet high in soft peach paint and measures 32 feet wide by 54 feet long.

A pink tinted granite fireplace announces the rear wall surrounded by a set of low undivided windows that shows off the manicured green colored lawn, pods of colorful flower gardens, and grove of short colorful fruit trees with a farther view of the array of green tinted flat pasture lands and the lush woodlands.

When her three sons were young, the living room paint had been a candy pink hue that nicely matched the pink granite fireplace, until Flamingo's smart brain cells at the age of seven years old recognized the hue of pink as a girly color, not a manly color. He went to his mother Arie and demanded with mouth spit that the pink hue became covered in another color.

So, Arie had painted the wall space in soft peach. Flamingo did not object as he enjoyed eating a basket of fresh peach fruits and mentally thought of the new living room color as peachy keen color.

Currently, inside the living room, each side wall displays a row of low-lying undivided clean and shiny glass windows in-between an empty space of soft peach paint. The entrance wall exhibits two sets of double doors that are kept open at the time.

A few feet in front of each wall with the row of viewing glass windows, a living room set rests in a semi-circle that allows a body to engage in face-to-face conversation with another body across the wide and grand room, if you shout out loud all your words at one at time, where Flamingo also enjoys performing that solo act during each family event, such like, Christmas morning and Easter afternoon.

The living room set consists of three long sofas, three sectional units, nine love seats, seven chaise lounge chairs, and thirteen oversized sitting chairs which could technically hold 107 people inside the extremely large spacious room. There is not a rocking chair anymore either.

In previous triplet brother history, each young seven years old brother wanted to sit and rock inside the rocking chair slapping in a nice steady rhythm slap with a pair of hard shoes on top of the hard tiles while making a subtle, but irritating song with their feet. So, their mother Arie had the single rocking chair removed and then stored upstairs inside her private room while providing a quiet environment inside the living room during any social event.

And there is not a single lounge chair with an upright foot stool for the same annoying reason. Her three teenage sons still engage in a mischievous activity rather than playful entertainment around their mother Arie.

Inside the living room, each furniture piece is covered in a durable fabric or leather finish of smoky grey hue that easily covers any food stain that drips down from a pair of open lips, three times.

Arie tries to install a set of gentleman manners into each son, but it is very difficult at times.

Inside the living room, between each sitting furniture piece, there is a small silver-tinted chrome table for a beverage or a plate of food with some water stains as each person enjoys eating and drinking while engaging in a new family event.

Directly in front of the pink tinted granite fireplace, that does function, but is never filled with real logs and real flame, in case of a real fire, there are two extremely large and comfortable oversized chairs in the pattern of soft peach flowers with entwining green tinted vines.

Flamingo would never sit on top of that soft satiny, girly chair that represents a feminine object for any reason.

Arie sits in that peach colored chair during each social family event as the head of the household, since she is a single mother and a widower. She oversees both the social event and her three sons from this advantage point while lounging inside the soft satin fabric with a girly pattern in front of the room. The peach hue seriously clashes with the pink granite fireplace, but all will change when her three sons are out of the house and off to college, next year, starting in the month of June.

Breck enters the room with a smile and then halts with a pair of buzzed lips. The living room space is extremely large. However, the arrangement of each furniture piece allows for conversation with a pair of lips, but creates a nightmare walking maze for a pair of legs. He scoots around the chair lounge chair and then slides around the long sofa, moving straight ahead into the back rest on the smoky gray leather oversized chair. He slips around the chair and then continues to perform a zig and then a zag through the difficult furniture maze finally arriving in front of the forward wall and then halts with a smile.

He stands in front of Cinco and sounds with a grunt.

In front of the forward wall and the fireplace, Cinco lounges inside that girly peach satin oversized chair for his mother Arie and wears a naked chest, a pair of dark blue running short, and a pair of naked feet reading the tiny screen on his personal mobile telephone. On the side chrome table between the two oversized peach colored chairs, an open box with pieces of cold pizza that almost covers the hard surface and three sweaty bottles of cold beer.

Breck looks down and stares at the food box looking up to see the room which is empty of people and items. On the entrance door, in-between the entrance doors, a solid wall of glass cabinets displays an array of colorful paper certificates, gold and silver-plated individual tall and short trophies, and numerous colorful awards coming from each one of Arie's three sons.

He returns and frowns down at Cinco. "What are you doing here inside the unused and reserved living room space? We never come in but for the celebration of something happy, Cinco?"

Cinco chews and swallows the food, staring down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone, "Eating."

He frowns. "There is a room here in the house, which is called the kitchen, for eating messy and disgusting food stuff, bro. And why are you eating smelly cold pizza for breakfast from a soiled and stained pizza box?"

Cinco continues to sit and stares down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone, "It's left over pizza slices from last night when we didn't finish eating the seventh box of hot pizza."

He huffs. "That's not a proper breakfast item for the morning, especially served with sweaty bottles of cold beer."

"Mama ain't here to feed me. The maid service ain't here to feed me. Neither Grandmother Dunlap nor Grandmother McCory, they ain't here to feed me a proper breakfast plate, either. So, cold pizza is better than hot pizza and always tastes great with a cold bottle of beer," Cinco looks up with a smile of food particles between the front teeth. "And I'm in-training to become a college freshman student. You know, a freshman student lives on pizza and beer," he reaches over and grabs the last pizza slice, eating and chews with an open mouth.

He laughs with a nod. "I heard that one. Why are we going to do today? No one is home but us all alone."

Cinco nods. "I'm leaving the house and continuing my personal search for the lost gold that was stolen from a moving ancient stagecoach with a pack of non-running mules that had been guarded by a group of Confederate soldiers."

He frowns. "We found that lost gold which was a tiny treasure chest of six individual golden coins. Three coins for you and three coins for me. Flamingo doesn't receive any one of six coins as he was not sweating out in the heated sunshine on Thursday evening."

Cinco shakes his curls. "Honestly, I do believe that the six golden coins fell out from the pockets on old man McCory when he was burying that dead horse."

"That dead horse was the great Mohawk stallion."

Cinco frowns. "No, it wasn't. Use logic here, Breck. The great Mohawk stallion was burnt to death inside a barn stall within the newly build city of Birmingham. There wouldn't be much left of a dead and burnt horse. And no one would bother to gather up half burnt bones and stinky ashes from a single dead horse. And the entire wooden barn quickly burned down with all these wonderful horses. The scientists didn't have DNA testing back then in the 1800s. No one could ID a stallion from a mare. Old Man McCory was out riding his other stallion horse and then stopped to bury his gold treasure chest somewhere out there on his private property. His stallion tripped down into a hole and then broke its fore leg. He had to shoot that stallion in the head. Or he had to leave the stallion alive to fend for itself. A good horseman takes care of a healthy or a lame horse. He shot that horse and then walked back home on foot like we stomped over the same terrain on foot back here."

Breck nods and turns surveying the walls with the colorful portraits. "We found the Legend of Mohawk. What else are we going to do today, Cinco? Let's go turkey hunting! We can bag and hang a fresh turkey. When the house staff returns, they can cook it up for me and you. When does the house staff return?"

Cinco sips and then swallows the slightly cool beer, burping out loud with a smile. "Our ancient relative Old Man McCory came back here to his grand cotton and corn plantation both poor and defeated, but he toted an armful of golden bars. I do believe that he robbed the wobbling stagecoach with their golden bars and then buried all the bars here somewhere on his private land. No person or no US Federal Government employee could come onto his private land, since we have the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights Second Amendment to bear all working and shooting array of hand guns and rifles and the Fourth Amendment which is not to invade personal property, without a criminal act or action. What do you think about that?"

He returns with a stern face and views his brother Cinco. Cinco continues to eat and then smiles with an open mouth of food without releasing the concept of the lost golden treasure chest. Flamingo is having fun stretching his brains with the College Honor Challenge thing. Thus, Breck is alone and bored during the pretty day if he doesn't play and entertain with his baby brother triplet Cinco. And Cinco is not going to be any fun today, until the mystery of the gold is solved or stolen or sunken back down into the grave site with all the known he-ghosts.

Breck back steps with a deep sigh of annoyance and sits down on top of the soft sofa looking down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard and says with a smile. "Let's access and ask the internet for that answer. And the internet is extremely quick today. The Legend of the Confederate Gold is hidden and buried somewhere in the Old South. The Confederate gold is hidden caches of gold coins that were lost and never recovered after the American Civil War in the year 1865. The mysterious and misplaced boxes of gold have intrigued every treasure hunter for more than a century, which continues into the modern times searching for the expensive and priceless cache. Some treasure hunters are convinced that the crate of gold is buried in an old tobacco town, which is not near us here in Alabama, Cinco," he looks up with a wink to see Cinco. "Well, that ends our gold search for the day. What do you wanna do now? Let's go riding on the bikes through the wilderness with our guns. Then we can stop and shoot something."

"Hold on!" Cinco looks down and continues to chew the food particles of pizza, swallows the food, and then reads out loud from the tiny screen on his personal mobile telephone. "I agree with you, Breck. The internet holds massive amounts of information both false and true. The Legend of the Confederate Gold story goes like this. In the month of April, in the year 1865, the Confederate States of America were falling apart. The government headquarters located there in Richmond, Virginia was collapsing. The President of the Confederate States of America Jefferson Davis and all the other war leaders fled on a choo-choo train heading back towards the new capital of the Confederacy, taking all the precious golden bars with them on that train. Then the Confederate leaders with Davis held their last formal Confederate Cabinet meeting and then fled again away from the last capital of the Confederacy as the Old South fell down onto his kneecaps and survived to General Ulysses S. Grant."

Breck laughs out loud, "The end! Grandmother McCory likes to lie to her three grandsons."

Cinco reads out from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "And the modern-day internet stories continue to bleed out its hidden secrets for the mystery of the Confederate treasure. Each generation with a mature silly adult tells their young son, who tells their young son, and then the cycle continues until today. One working theory, the Talking Tree theory details the location of the gold. Every tree trunk on the secret wilderness roadway journey that hides the Confederate Gold has been marked across the entire Old South that has both a unique symbol and a mathematical number which is carved with a knife by a Confederate soldier. Each knife carving leads to a clue that maps the final resting spot of all the gold and silver boxes of buried treasure. The issue is to decode the paired symbol and number on the carved tree bark for the treasure hunter, which has never been cracked."

He laughs. "And I do believe that these treasure hunters have cracked, mentally speaking."

Cinco nods. "So, the Rebel Gold forever remains hidden and is protected by a secret society..."

"...of golden nuts," Breck laughs. "Here is another theory. The rebel gold crates and the Confederate War leaders split up each box of gold moving each box around the country from the US State of Georgia all the way back up to Washington, DC."

Cinco nods. "A third working theory, Confederate President Jefferson Davis owned a plantation with 11,000 acres in the US State of Arkansas, which was not a Confederate State during the Civil War. Bingo! The crate of golden bars is buried there. Do you know the way to Arkansas?" He laughs.

Breck laughs. "Even if you happen to find one single box of gold that did come from that Confederate treasury chest, the United States Federal Government will swoop down like a bold and brave American eagle and claim it all for their treasury chest, like always. You know, if I happen to find millions or present-day billions of lost boxes with the lost Confederate gold, then I wouldn't tell the entire world or my two other brothers."

Cinco laughs. "I know that, Breck Brain, so I'm going to be standing right here beside you when you find the lost gold."

He laughs. "Would I keep a secret? Yeah, I'd keep it and keep it a secret. And if the gold is here on our land of personal private property, then it's our claim and our find confiscating it and keeping it forever. Or we can sell it on the Black Market and get really rich." Breck laughs with Cinco.

Cinco nods with a smile. "I do believe that was an illogical decision that our great-great-great-great grandfather McCory did."

He looks down and types on the tiny keyboard finding new information, reading out loud from the screen. "Here, I found working theory number four. A stagecoach had been escorted to southwestern Missouri. In the year 1865, a father housed a confederate soldier that was ill. He took the sick man into his home. The Confederate soldier had hidden a box of gold. The sick and dying confederate soldier tattled the box of gold was located inside a cave. Outside the cave entrance, the dying Confederate soldier marked a large limestone rock with his personal initials for an easy location. Then the Confederate soldier died with the secret location. The father told the son. Then that son told his son. Then that son told his young. And that young son went dirt biking around the wilderness. That last son come across a large limestone rock with a set of weird personal initials that didn't match any of his current blood-kin family members. He rode away on the dirt bike and told his father and then he couldn't find the rock again."

Cinco reads out loud from his mobile telephone. "And another theory, in the old tobacco town of Danville, Virginia, the town mayor handed out pieces of gold in exchange for Confederate useless money to help the wounded Civil War solder and their family members when the Old South was lost. If there was a treasure chest of gold, it had been dug up and divvied up for very good cause. The end!"

Breck nods with a smile. "And finally, the last theory, some people believe that there is no Rebel Gold," he laughs. "However, each story makes a great epic tale of the Confederate Gold for each city slicker for hundreds of years into the future, even when I am dead and buried."

Cinco looks up with a smile and nods to Breck, "However, the city of Richmond, Virginia was the second capital for the Confederate States of America. Do you know where the original Confederate States of America was located first, Breck?"

He gasps in shock. "Of course, I do. Even thou, I didn't get the prestige American History award in the eleventh grade that went to our asshole brother Flamingo. The first capital was here in Alabama in the city of Montgomery."

"That's right, Brick Brain." Cinco laughs. "Let me hit you with my version of the story based on all the facts that we know in present day Alabama. In the month of May, in the year 1861, President Jefferson Davis, the president of the seceding Confederate States of America moved the capital from Montgomery, Alabama to Richmond, Virginia. Jefferson did that to entice the State of Virginia to join the secession of the Confederate States of America. The treasure chest contained 700,000 dollars in the form of coinage of both gold and silver money.

"So, in the city of Richmond, Jefferson Davis was attending church services on Sunday in the month of April in the year 1865. When he learned General Lee's defeat at Petersburg, Jefferson, he ordered the evacuation of both the war cabinet and the Confederate gold treasury from Richmond.

"General Lee held off the Union line while two separate trains were loaded with gold coins, silver coins, silver bricks of 200,000 in dollars, and fleeing Confederate cabinet members. The two trains traveled southward from Richmond and ended in the town of Danville, Virginia. In modern day car drive, it is two hours and 42 minutes going over 144 miles of paved highway to travel from Richmond, Virginia to Danville, Virginia."

Breck points down at his mobile telephone. "My mobile telephone tells me. The city of Danville is an independent town, within the Commonwealth of Virginia, with a population of 43,000 at lives at an elevation of 531 feet from the Atlantic cold-feeling ocean waters of salt. There are numerous 3-star hotels there for stopping for a restful slumber, though," he laughs alone.

Cinco exhales with annoyance. "Then, the Confederate cabinet members escaped and traveled south on horseback. Navy Captain William H. Parker..."

"...was rich..." he laughs.

Cinco exhales with more annoyance. "Captain Parker provided a military escort for the gold and silver coins and bricks. Some of the military personnel were as young as twelve years old. Think it, Breck! How would you feel at twelve years old being in a war and protecting gold coins?"

He smiles. "I would be both proud and scared as a new Confederate rebel."

Cinco reads the information from his phone, "Captain Parker and his military escort planned to travel to Charlotte, North Carolina, where the old US Mint building was located. However, they encountered a line of Union soldiers. So, Captain Parker ordered all the gold and silver coins and bricks inside a set of new containers that had been used for sugar, coffee, flour, and ammunition. They escaped from the Union soldiers and moved southwest in a set of wagons, zigzagging across the South Carolina and Georgia state lines several times to evade capture. The responsibility of the treasure was passed down to Secretary of War, John C. Breckenridge. He placed Brigade General Basil Duke in charge of one thousand Confederate soldiers and six wagons of the Confederate treasure. General Duke traveled south towards the small town of Washington within the US State of Georgia, where President Jefferson Davis and his war cabinet members set up a new headquarters. It is a car ride of five hours and eighteen minutes southwest from Danville, Virginia to Washington, Georgia over 346 miles of paved highways."

Breck smiles, "And my mobile telephone tells me again. The city of Washington is located within Wilkes County, in the US State of Georgia, with a population of 4,300 at a land elevation of 607 feet. There are numerous five-star hotels there for stopping for a rest."

Cinco frowns. "There, in the city of Washington, President Jefferson Davis signed his last official presidential order."

Breck grins and reads the information from his phone. "O wow. Yeah, the last meeting for President Jefferson Davis and his cabinet meeting was held in the small town of Washington, within the US State of Georgia. However, there is much more about the small town of Washington. The town was founded, before the American Revolution with a British king and all his Redcoats, who couldn't shoot a gun. There are listed more than one hundred antebellum homes that survived Sherman and his tanks. O! Wrong war! Sherman and his mule trains of TNT dynamic did not ravage this small town. The township of Washington was founded on the first day in the month of January, in the year 1774.

"O wow! The city is over two hundred years old like our country. It was originally a frontier stockade of chopped tree logs that had been built on top of the fertile land from a treaty by the Creek Indians and it was called Fort Heard. John Heard was the leader of the first group of settlers there in Georgia. O wow! This history lesson gets better.

"Then the frontier settlers in Fort Heard became directly involved in the American Revolutionary War and fought on the side of General Washington and his colonial rebels. However, some of the other settlers stood and fought with the British redcoats and then they died more quickly. In the year 1799, a major battle took place outside of the community of Washington. Patriot leader Andrew Pickens, Elijah Clarke, and John Dooly, and heroine Nancy Hart smashed a line of British troops at the Battle of Kettle Creek. The Kettle Creek is located at Warhill Road and is twelve miles from Fort Heard.

"O wow! In the year 1783, the land around Fort Heard was growing and became the community of Washington. Over the decades, the township of Washington prospered in cotton and became a center of commerce, politics, and social life during the antebellum era. When the US State of Georgia seceded on January 19, 1861, a blue colored flag with a five-pointed white star was raised over the city which had been secretly made by the daughter of a prominent Unionist. Then numerous men marched off to fight for the Confederacy in the Civil War. General Porter Alexander commanded the artillery in the army underneath General Robert E. Lee. And General Robert Toombs served as the first Sectary of State for the Confederacy and as a Confederate brigadier general during the war. They were famous residents from small town Washington, Georgia.

"O wow! In the month of April, in the year 1865, the Confederacy establishment started to collapse from the on-going battle fights in the Civil War. President Jefferson Davis, his wife, and children hurriedly evacuated Richmond, Virginia, riding on a choo-choo train to Danville, Virginia. By horseback and wagon, they left Danville and headed down to Washington, Georgia..."

"Stop!" Cinco sneers then reads from his phone. "I just told you all that historical information, Breck. I'll take over now. Thank you very much. President Jefferson Davis, his family, and his cabinet members arrived safely in the small town of Washington on May 4th in the year 1865. Mrs. Davis and the children stayed at one of the antebellum houses with friends. And Brigade General Basil Duke arrived with the treasure of 200,000 dollars in gold and silver coins. Jefferson and the cabinet members stayed and held the last cabinet meeting inside the Georgia Branch Bank Building along with present and secured boxes of gold and silver coins. Inside the bank building, Jefferson performed his set of last official orders announcing Micajah Clark as the acting Treasury of the Confederacy. Brigade General Basil Duke was ordered to pay out a lump sum of 26.25 dollars to each soldier, which was about 26,250 dollars per soldier in modern day currency. If there were a troop of marching and guarding one thousand Confederate soldiers, then the total payment in gold was 26,000 dollars coming from the 200,000 dollars of gold."

Breck whistles and then smiles. "That's a one thousand percent increase in the value of gold in the year 1865. O wow! So, the original ten million dollars in gold coin once located in Montgomery is valued at ten billion dollars of gold at today's prices. Double wow! I wanna find the gold now."

Cinco smiled. "On May 5th, Jefferson and the war cabinet members left out from Washington. He and his party reached the town of Sanderville which was seventeen miles northeast of the town of Washington, on May 6th. That evening, Davis and his party camped near Ball's Ferry which is two miles northwest of Sanderville. Upon hearing a deadly threat to his wife and family, he ordered to continue onward. After riding all night, Davis camped near the home of Mr. E.J. Blacksheer which was ten miles north of Dublin while traveling south. After traveling between the towns of Dublin and Abbeville, Davis and his party stopped at a hotel in Irwinville which had been owned by G.E. White MD on the evening of May 9th. He and his wife visited with the locals while no one had suspected his true identity, the Confederate President of the US. After socializing with the local people, Davis and his party left the hotel and then camped a mile north of the town of Irwinville near a creed bed. At the crack of dawn on May 10th, Davis, his wife, and his cabinet members awoke with alarm by the sound of loud gunfire. Jefferson ran away and tried to escape toward the creek water wearing an overcoat. His wife run also and tied a scarf around her shoulder, but the Union soldiers from the 1st Wisconsin and 4th Michigan horse cavalry regiments surrounded and then captured both. The Union military officer Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard was credited for capturing Davis and his war cabinet members. Then Jefferson Davis became a 'state prisoner' and the Civil War technically ended for the Old South."

Breck laughs. "And my mobile telephone tells me again. The city of Irwinville had been founded as Irwinsville in the year 1831 A.D within the newly formed Irwin County. The community was named after Georgia governor Jared Irwin. The town was renamed Irwinville without the letter S in the year 1857. The town is populated with 2,400 people and hosts a set of three-star hotels. And it is known in the Civil War as the site of the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. The end!"

Cinco smiles with a nod. "Now, the real story of the gold begins. I find all this very interesting to my neurons based on all the mixed up false and true information. Twenty-three hours prior to the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, the United States War Department had been spying on Davis and his secretive train ride. The War Department documents recorded that the train cargo contained ten million dollars in gold which is valued at 142 million in today's dollars. During his surprise capture near the small town of Irwinville, Georgia on May 10th, in the year 1865, President Jefferson Davis and all his cabinet members did not possess one single gold coin or silver coin or silver brick bar. All the open wagons only contained blankets and food. Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard reported back to the US War Department in Washington DC. He had captured eight wagons and twenty-five mules. However, sixteen mules would have been insufficient to pull eight wagons. Twenty-eight mules would have been sufficient for fourteen wagons." Cinco laughs. "And I have personally worked with an ass and it is a real nasty creature that Almighty God had created for some unexplained reason. You don't take an extra ass with you on an escape route while running away from the enemy for any reason. So, Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard concluded that there were six more wagons that were hidden with all the gold and silver coins somewhere around the wildness in Irwinville. The Union took Jefferson Davis and his party back to the town of Washington, where Davis met with General Ulysses S. Grant to surrender the war. However, back in the town of Washington, the newly captured and new Treasury of the Confederate Micajah Clark had reported to the Union general that only 43,000 dollars remained from the treasure chest of gold and silver coins, which had been left inside the Georgia bank. So, the Union army loaded up all the gold and silver coins and bricks with a value of 43,000 dollars into their own set of wagons and then headed out for Washington, DC. However, the Union wagon train was bushwhacked outside the town of Washington within Wilkes County, Georgia. The dishonest robbers consisted of both Union and Confederate soldiers who wanted a free handout and then took off with the rest of the gold and silver coins and bricks. Then, the gold and silver coins and bars were gone with the wind," Cinco laughs.

He looks down and reads the text message from his friend saying with a smile, "Hmm! A fantastic story, indeed! What are we doing today, Cinco?"

Cinco nods. "However, inside the yellow tinted and preserved US War Department records, there is one sentence about the misplaced gold. A paper telegram from Union officer was Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard to the War Department officer T.A. Scott, who worked for Secretary of War Edwin Stanton. The message read: I returned to the site last night. So, Union officer was Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard found the missing six wagons that was filled with gold and then buried some of it or hid some of it or give some of it to his soldiers for their army pension. The other end!"

He frowns. "So, there was a Confederate gold back then. Now, there isn't any more confederate gold present day. So, a Union soldier found it and stole it. Thus, there ain't no more rebel gold nuggets or coins or bars anywhere. So, why are you fascinated with something is not real?"

Cinco smiles, "I find all the gold theories interesting. Since ten million dollars of gold and silver coins really did show up in the city of Washington, one gold theory told that all the Confederate gold, but 43,000 dollars of gold coins had been packed and toted in a separate wagon train ride that ended up in Savannah, Georgia.

"A second working theory, the gold and silver coins were buried around the dirt holes inside the cemetery and around the planted tree roots within Washington, Georgia. And I find that history book does not lie. A third working theory, in the year 1869, four years after the capture of Jefferson Davis by a Union military office from the US State of Michigan, a set of railroad tracks finally was built and connected the southern town of Irwinville, Georgia to the northern town of Muskegon, Michigan by the Albany and Brunswick Railroad Company. The railroad station ran through the southern town of Tifton, Georgia which was 17 miles south of Irwinville, Georgia and it was close enough to transport six wagons of gold and silver coins that had been buried and hidden since the year 1865 within the wilderness of Irwinville.

"Another historical point, General Robert H.G. Minty worked on the Albany and Brunswick Railroad Company and he was commanding officer during the Civil War over Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard, when Jefferson Davis was captured near a horse barn in Irwinville. Another historical point, the residential home of Lieutenant Colonel Benjamin Pritchard, who was the military officer that led the Michigan 4th Cavalry unit and credited for the capture of Confederate President Jefferson Davis, was located within Allegan County. In the year 1869, when the railroad line had completed construction, each railcar also had to stop in Allegan County for stock and maybe stolen gold shipment deliveries, before reaching its destination to Muskegon, Michigan. In the year 1870, regular law-abiding citizen Benjamin Pritchard and some of nice old friends founded a new bank with all that stolen Confederate gold. The other ending!"

He frowns. "Okay. So, it was a form of ancient money laundering with Pritchard and his new friend and some good old fashion spy work for a couple of good old boys that wanted to be rich without trying. What's your minor point here, bro? I'm not following."

"You're not thinking, but that's beside the point." Cinco nods, "So, during the Civil War, numerous and heavy slow-moving stagecoaches pulled by numerous mules had to travel over a set of individual rough dirt and gravel roads with ten million dollars of golden coins and silver brick bars coming from the small town of Montgomery to finally arrive in the larger town of Richmond, Virginia first. So, everyone knew about it. And that individual rough dirt and gravel road traveled from Montgomery to Birmingham and through here in Lacy Springs, before reaching a train station in Huntsville. And Old man McCory had to know that too. So, he shot all the mules and then robbed one of the slow-moving and heavy stagecoaches that carried numerous boxes of the gold and silver coins. He probably didn't rob a silver brick bar for personal reasons."

He laughs. "So, that's why the Old South lost the war. The treasure chest was emptied out by a McCory first. I do believe that could be main reason for our side's loss in the Civil War. The South ran out of money and couldn't provide an umbrella or a bottled water to each solider."

Cinco frowns. "There were no such things as cases of bottled water in the year 1864."

Breck smiles, "My point, the Confederates ran out of money, because another dishonest man stole it all. Well, that dishonest man is our dead relative. That's not good news, if your theory is true and valid."

Cinco laughs. "I don't care about my past family history. I was a..."

"Don't say it every!"

Cinco clears his throat. "I recently became a McCory by name. So, I can make a mistake or misstep or a minor infraction now, but not later," he laughs.

Breck laughs also. "And your big mistake is noted and noticed."

He exhales. "I'm interested in all the internet hidden secrets on the mystery of the Confederate treasure. The last theory on the Legend of the Confederate Gold, ten million dollars in gold, in the year 1865, was recorded by the US War Department and located on a train with all the war cabinet members. Some people tattle that the money was taken from the city of Richmond and exposed in the open, in order to finance a second Civil War. Davis was riding through numerous small and tiny unknown communities while fleeing from groups of the Union soldiers. He was taking side country roads to board a ship and travel to England. And the US War Department had paper messages about his whereabouts and the amount of gold and silver coins. So, that makes me believe all the stories are true about the lost Rebel Gold. Why would Jefferson David travel and hide out from the Union soldiers, if he didn't have the gold? Why would he try to get to a ship at the Gulf seaport in Mississippi, if he didn't possess the gold for a new social life in the foreign country of England? At the end of the Civil War, Jefferson Davis had been taken to Fortress Monroe in Virginia and was held for two years as a prisoner and then released."

He frowns. "Where are you getting all of this information?"

Cinco smiles, "On the internet that provides burnt out but retrieved secret US Federal Government White House Cabinet notes on that train and that bank lobby..."

"Why do people write down stuff for a spying spy to find?" He shakes his skull.

Cinco laughs. "That's the way the world works. Anyways, there were 58 deposits of golden boxes. One single box of gold coins is worth 8.6 million dollars. a present-day treasure."

"The gold is gone with the light breeze. I believe you have proven that, Cinco."

Cinco nods. "Well, that might account as to why there exists both treasure hunters and treasure believers."

He smiles, "Whatever, Cinco! What are we going to do today?"

Cinco slaps his chest and wipes off the pizza crumbs down onto the clean floor, nodding with a smile to Breck. "I'm going to find the lost box of ancient golden coins that came from the stagecoach of Confederate soldiers that old man McCory stole with a hand gun."

He looks down with a sour frown at the messy food crumbs on the floor. He must clean the smashed food items up before his mother returns home from her sightseeing fun with her fiancé A.J. Breck exhales with annoyance and looks up to see Cinco. "So, how do we find the lost box of ancient golden coins coming from the Confederate soldiers that came from Montgomery and landed here in Lacy Springs?"

Cinco nods with a smile to Breck and taps on his mobile telephone screen. "And I've been thinking long and hard about that idea. And I've been searching the internet for a clue. Most of the time, a treasure hunter in the past or in the present finds or discovers a treasure map that leads him or her or a villain or it directly to the hidden treasure," he turns and stares at the oil portrait on the wall. "This is an old ancient manor that is over two hundred years old. An old house has secret doorways and hidden compartment underneath the wooden planks. There are plenty of walls here inside this old house and miles of polished wooden planks."

He nods, "And our mother and our grandmother and our great-grandmother lived here before we were born. If one ever found a treasure inside the walls or underneath the wooden floor, our great-grandmother would have discovered it when she was a little girl in the year of whatever."

Cinco chews the food and continues to scan each wall. "I concur with your sound logic, Breck. However, I do believe that there is a treasure which is hidden in here which has been left by Old Man McCory."

Breck frowns. "How do you theorize or materialize or produce that treasure?"

He continues to eat the pizza and nods to each wall. "Tell me! What do you see around this room?"

Breck looks up and scans each wall saying with a smile. "The floor is made of hard tiles, not wooden planks. So, there is not a treasure chest here."

"I agree with that observation."

Breck looks up to the ceiling and grins. "The ceiling is made of wooden planks, but it holds up the second floor of wooden planks. So, the ceiling is not holding a secret treasure chest either. Else, the treasure would fall down and smash your boney skull, Cinco," laughing.

"I concur with that brilliant statement too."

Breck scans each wall with a grin. "Each wall holds a row of the ugliest people in the world. Each portrait is colored and shows a man or a woman or a teenager or a young child with blonde or red colored hair. Some of the males wear a full red colored beard or a mustache. Why do some of the portraits display red colored hair roots or facial whiskers? We are blonde haired."

Cinco nods. "Our brotherly DNA genes are made up from our Italian immigrants and Irish immigrants that transverse here to Alabama, a long, long time ago. That was how the Unnamed Dead Elderly Man could infiltrate our family tree without worry or notice."

Breck frowns. "Yeah, that makes perfect sense. Each portrait stares back at my handsome face. What a waste of good paint! And I claim right here not to be kin to any of these ugly people. Why are we sitting here in the pretty daylight sunshine and staring at an oil painting of the ugliest woman in the world?"

Cinco eats the food and mouth spits chewed food particles over his lap, his naked legs, and then down onto the floor. "The wall has eyeballs."

Breck looks down with a frown at the floor and sees the mess from Cinco, exhaling with annoyance, because someone must clean the ugly mess off the clean floor, before his mother comes home from her world tour vacation. He views Cinco, "No. The old saying is: the walls have ears."

Cinco points a food-stained finger at each wall with a laugh. "Well, here inside the McCory Manor. The wall has eyeballs."

Breck gasps in shock and then laughs out loud. "You don't like to look at their eyeballs. Do you remember that? You were scared shitless that night when you woke up and stared at the whites of the dead inside your private bedroom. Then you screamed like a little girl and ran into my bedroom..."

"Then we screamed like two little girls with me and we both ran into Flamingo's bedroom," Cinco laughs without spitting more chewed food particles in the air. "Then Flamingo laughed his ass off from our set of rolling tears and squall line of mousey squeaks and then ran out of his bedroom and tattled to our mama which was hard as Flamingo was trying to tattle the tale while laughing his ass off even more. Mama followed Flamingo and came into his room and found me and you on the floor and underneath Flamingo's bed covers," he laughs alone.

He frowns and points to the side wall saying with annoyance. "Yeah, yeah, I remember. I remember. Who is the ugly bitch?"

"Her name is McCory. Each one of the portraits displays the name, McCory. I can't believe that our mama didn't figure out that she had married into the McCory family tree. Anyways, that ugly bitch is your ugliest and your great-great-great-great grandmother, Breck." Cinco laughs.

He shakes his skull with a sour frown. "She ain't no kin or kind to my handsome face. She must've come out and then died from ugliness coming from our daddy's mother side of the family tree," Breck laughs with Cinco.

"I agree with that ugly statement. I've been thinking about the Legend of the Confederate Gold that Grandmother McCory told."

Breck exhales with a smile and stands upright from the chair. "Well, we have deducted that no treasure chest or crate or date is hidden inside this room. Is there another room that you wanna mess up also? Because, your pair of naked feet is covered in orange and black colored pizza food residual particles. And I am not cleaning up your ugly messes from this floor, Cinco."

He motions with his free hand. "Sit down, dude! We have not finished the examination of the living room setting. What else you see on each wall?"

Breck turns and studies each wall. "A row of oil portraits appears in various stages with an individual dead person, who lives in various ages of life."

"You mentioned that. What else do you see on the wall?"

"Well, each portrait is the same size in height and width and forms a straight line that goes all around the room."

"Very good! I see that too. What else you see on the wall?"

Breck returns and frowns at Cinco. "I just told you."

He points to each wall. "And I am telling you that there is more on each wall than makes the eyeballs," Cinco laughs.

Breck exhales with annoyance but is very curious with Cinco's statement. Cinco is not an academician by nature or by purpose. He enjoys the physical activities. So, when Cinco states a matter that has to do with mental or physical adventure, he must have discovered this that is worth Breck's time. Anyways, no one else is home and he will not get Cinco to go hunting until the mystery has played out.

Breck stands upright from the chair and scoots around the furniture maze, standing in front of the middle oil portrait. "I am standing here and doing something weird. The oil portrait is a head shot or drawing and it is colored in a black background. The woman is middle aged and wears a white low-cut dress. Did they dress like that back then?" He frowns. "I guess so. Her hair is behind her ugly face in a blonde hair bun and her skin is pale. Her earlobes wear a pair of dangling earrings. And she needs to lose weight. O! I guess she died of heart disease. Is this why her portrait is hanging here? What else am I supposed to see?"

Cinco smiles, "Slide over here and describe the other oil portrait to me!"

"Fine!" he slides over and stands in front of the next portrait. "I am here again. The oil portrait is head shot or hand drawing of young boy. He has blonde hair and dark skin, wearing a green colored jacket with a white lace collar like a fucking girl. Is this a fucking boy or a fucking girl? His hair is short like a boy, but he wears clothes like a girl. Did they have gay guys back then too?"

Cinco laughs. "What else do you see on that portrait, Breck?"

"That's it!"

Cinco smiles, "I saw the same damn thing. Now, describe their eyeballs!"

He nods. "Each one has a pair of blue irises like me and you and Flamingo and our mama and our daddy and our grandmother," he gasps in shock. "Wait a minute here! The pair of irises are blue in color, but each eyeball is twisted to the side or sideways."

Cinco smiles, "Which side is each eyeball twisted too, Breck?"

Breck slides back and forth studying each portrait, saying with a gasp. "This is really weird, Cinco. Come over here and stand with me! The pair of blue colored eyeballs on the middle-aged woman inside her oil portrait slants to...to...to the side, not looking straight ahead towards me. Her two eyeballs go sideways and slants to my left, that is really heading north on a geography map, if we used a map. And the young boy has a pair of blue irises and they slant to my left and goes the same directional way as northern too. What does this mean, Cinco? I...I have never noticed the eyeballs on these two oil portraits before. Why is that? What does this mean? I don't understand any of this. Did the painter mess up the eyeballs?"

Cinco slowly stands upright from the chair and wipes his dirty hands on his clean running shorts, moving ahead towards the open doorway while laughing at Breck. "And I have more of a mystery matter for us to magical un-solve. Come over here at the archway and view the oil portrait," he stands in front of the first oil portrait and fingers the dead person, wearing a smile.

On the side wall, Breck spins around with a stern face and dashes ahead standing beside Cinco, staring at the oil portrait. "This portrait shows an old man with grayish-blonde ponytail on his bone skull and he has a pair of blue irises too. The two eyeballs are slanted to...to...to the side also. This is incredible. Why did the painter mess up? No wonder our mama removed all the portraits when we were little ticks."

Cinco frowns. "No. She removed them, because you and I were scared to death of the dead people. Then she placed them back on the wall in a proper order when we were pre-teens. This old man's eyeballs slants to the side which is going into the geographical direction of south, if we used the layout of a map. Or if you stand in the middle of the room and face the northern direction of the skyline, then you are acting like a globe human map. Do you agree?"

"Yes."

Cinco shoves Breck down the wall and points to each oil portrait. "Now, that first oil portrait is the first item that you see when you enter the rectangular living room setting. Because the living room entrance wall comes from the western side of the house through the hallway and faces towards the east. The opposite wall is a forward wall that faces west with the rows of windows for you to see the eastern sunlight and the manicured lawn, grove of trees, and pods of flowers. The side wall is really the fireplace wall that only shows the fireplace and a solid wall, without a window. The other side wall is a solid wall of peach paint. Now, if we scoot across the entrance wall which is facing the east but moving down southernly, then you see a row of oil portraits. Look really close at each pair of blue colored irises. And I have verified that each oil portrait has been painted with a pair or blue colored irises too." Breck slowly moves down the entrance wall and continues to gasp in shock without speech.

At the wall intersection of the western wall and the southern wall, they halt.

Cinco points back down the entrance wall. "I see like you see. Each oil portrait displays a pair of open and blue colored eyeballs that slant towards the southern direction to the fireplace wall. So, I conclude that I am to follow the creepy eyeballs and move down the western wall in a southern direction. Do you agree?"

"Yeah."

Cinco points at the new wall. "Now, look up and study the fireplace wall which faces the northern side of the mansion but is really the southern wall inside our house."

Breck gasps in shock at the two huge oil portraits. "The old woman and the young male on each side of the fireplace, each pair of blue eyeballs are slanted to...to...to the side also. The pair of eyeballs slants towards the easterly side also."

Cinco studies each portrait also. "Yeah, so the eastern wall with a straight row of oil portraits shows each pair of eyeballs slanting to the south. Then, the southern wall holds two oil portraits, where each pair of eyeballs slants towards the east or the eastern room wall. Do you see a pattern here, Breck?" He shoves Breck around the wall intersection of the southern wall and the eastern wall.

They slowly move down the eastern wall and observe each pair of eyeballs.

Breck nods. "I see a pattern. Each pair of eyeballs continues to slant in the same direction. But we are moving in a northern direction. The front porch faces due south. The garages stand due north."

"Right! I see and I agree." Cinco shoves Breck into the next wall intersection of the eastern wall and northern wall.

They slowly scoot down the northern wall and see the same pattern, landing in front of the open archway.

Breck spins around and studies each wall as his acute eyesight sees the eyeball on each portrait. "Well, each pair of blue colored eyeballs is slanted to the side and directs a person around the entire living room. This is very odd, strange, weird and crazy. What does it mean, Cinco?" Wait! The portraits had been moved when we were little boys. How did someone know to place each oil portrait in this direction? That's also weird-ass. Do we have a set of he-ghosts here?"

"No!" Cinco nods to each wall. "I would guess that our mama had a professional mover come and take down the portraits. They had marked each portrait with a number and then replaced the numbered portrait back onto the wall. No. We don't have a set of he-ghosts or she-ghosts or dog-ghosts or cat-ghosts either," laughing.

He nods, "O yeah!" He laughs. "Okay. Well! This was not fun, Cinco. Are you ready to go dove or rabbit or turkey or quail hunting now?"

Cinco laughs. "There is still a mystery here with the hidden treasure."

He frowns. "No! There is not."

"Yes, there is."

"Naw, there is not."

"Yeah, there is."

Breck exhales with annoyance. "How did you deduce that? Because I cannot."

Cinco smiles and points to each wall. "Then you need to get your nose outta of a textbook and look around the world for more clues and answer, Breck," he spins around and stares at the wall, pointing at the portrait. "Look over here! What do you see?"

Breck turns and stares into the semi-dark hallway saying with a sour frown. "Do not start that again. Tell me! What do you see quickly? Or I'm leaving."

"Okay. Okay. All right!" Cinco tosses both of his arms in the air and then slowly marches down the entrance wall pointing with a smile at each oil portrait. "When I enter the living room, I glide down the western entrance wall and follow each pair of eyeballs which slates due south. Then I turn the wall corner and glide down the northern wall, where each pair of eyeballs slates due east. Then I turn the wall corner and glide down the eastern wall, where each pair of eyeballs slates due north. Then I turn the wall corner and glide down the southern wall, where each pair of eyeballs slates the due west without question."

"The living room is a tiny world directional globe inside a square-shaped hole," Breck laughs.

Cinco stops and stands in front of the last oil portrait, a young girl with a blonde-colored ponytail, a tone of pale skin, and a pair of blue eyeballs, whipping out his switchblade from the pocket, where he carries on his body every day for bodily protection. He lifts the knife in the air.

Breck follows Cinco and then gasps in alarm. "No! Do not harm that portrait! No treasure is behind that painting, Cinco. The walls are solid plates of concrete. And our mama will skin you alive for damaging that old painting."

He smiles at the last oil portrait and then slides backwards stopping three portraits before. "I am not going to damage the portrait. I am making a point, a directional point. Now, I hold the knife horizontal even with the pair of blue eyeballs. Each pair of blue eyeballs is slanting west. Do you agree?"

Breck frowns, "Yeah."

"Now, here, I stand in the row of oil portraits, where each pair of eyeballs slants due west which is towards the entrance doors. Now, follow the knife blade! I am holding it slightly below the slanted eyeballs and then I am slowly moving west, where each pair of eyeballs is still slanting due west. Then I stop at the last oil portrait and hold my horizontal blade like a deadly rule on the last pair of exposed eyeballs. Do you see it?"

Breck gasps. "Geez, Louise! The pair of eyeballs on the last oil portrait is not slanted due west but...but...is tilted more in the geographical direction of northwest, not due west."

Cinco drops the blade and closes the knife replacing down in his pocket, spinning around to see Breck. "Yes, I figured that out also. The last oil portrait in the row of due west eyeballs is looking northwest, which is strange and different."

Breck nods, "Geez! How long have you been trying to figure this out, bro? How did you figure this out? How did you notice this? How did you note that each pair of eyeballs were slanting sideways that form a line? I have been in here a few times. I did not see this."

Cinco smiles, "When I entered into the living room this morning with both of my arms full of pizza boxes and cold bottles of beer, my elbow rammed into this particular oil portrait on the side wall. I sat down and started eating my food seeing the crooked picture frame on the side wall which was clearly annoying. Then I arose and fixed the oil painting, before I forgot. Then our mama would find it and know that I had been eating inside her precious living room. When I straightened up the picture, I noted the weird eyeball formation. Then I spent the rest of the early morning hours eating the pizza and studying each portrait, coming to the same conclusion, like you. This portrait guides the person in a northwestern direction to something or someone or somewhere."

Breck smiles, "So, what is in the northwestern direction that leads to something or someone or somewhere?"

He shrugs with a sour frown. "I don't know. I have not puzzled out the solution from the eyeball formation that far. I went back to mama's chair and started to eat the pizza and drink up the cold beer, when you arrived inside the room with me."

Breck turns with a smile and studies the last oil portrait. "That's weird and interesting to me. Okay! The pair of eyeballs guides us in a northwest direction which is not due west like the other portraits. And each pair of eyeballs has glided us out of the living room. So, we can deduce that the treasure is not here inside the living room, but it is hidden inside another part of the manor. Now, if the living room is patterned after a true geographical map. Then the pair of eyeballs wants us to go northwest. Here inside the house, we are standing in the southern part of our manor and face the northern wall. The pair of eyeballs is not facing north or west, but northwest. This is an important clue to finding the lost gold treasure from Old Man McCory. The narrow hallway runs in the direction from north and south, like Highway 231. Could the crate of gold be buried outside in out yard that faces northwest?"

"Naw," Cinco frowns. "I doubt it. This manicured green grassy and flowery yard has been plowed and plowed over hundreds of years. If there had been a treasure chest there, then it is all gone now."

He nods. "Yes, I agree. So, the northwest direction is intended to signal or lead us to a wall that's located in the northwest direction inside our manor."

Cinco nods with a smile, "That's good! That's great deduction, Breck!"

Breck spins around and exits the living room standing in the hallway. "Now, this long hallway runs north to south. I am turning to face the north which leads to the dining room, the kitchen and the garage parking spaces."

He frowns. "I hope the golden treasure is not inside the dining room. Mama will tear our hinds if we destroy that room."

Breck frowns. "Yeah, and the thick concrete-made kitchen walls will be impossible to damage while looking for a golden treasure chest even with mama's permission."

Cinco stands behind Breck, since only one person can stand inside the narrow hallway. He lifts his arm and points to the side wall. "This wall position is really northeast, where the unused and extremely large ballroom of yesteryears stands. So, that is not the right direction." He lifts his left arm and points to the side wall. "Now, I am pointing in a northwest direction."

Breck yells with a smile, "The den!" He dashes ahead towards the den.

"The den!" Cinco follows his brother and enters the den flipping on the overhead lights. "The den is the next object that stands in a northwest pose within our house. Why is it so dark in here?"

Breck turns and places both of his palms over each wooden wall panel while searching for a secret entrance. "The color comes from the dark wood panels. And all the computer equipment must stay cool for proper operation," he turns the wall corner and touches the panel with a sour frown. "I think I found the treasure."

Cinco spins around with a gasp and stares at the wall with Breck. "What!"

Breck taps the wall without opening the secret panel. "The weapon stores are located behind the entire wall for protection and safety. Every single gun is here. Well, we found the treasure. We are done. I wanna go hunting now," he spins around and nods to Cinco.

Cinco frowns. "I don't think so. We were directed to come inside here. This room has not changed in two hundred years."

He nods. "This room has not changed. But each wall panel and secret all compartment has been remodeled for years. This is a done deal, Cinco. I wanna go fishing or hunting or riding a horse. It's a pretty day."

Cinco exhales with annoyance and spins around surveying each piece of office furniture. He does not want to give up, but the new clue has vanished.

Breck moves ahead towards the entrance door and says with a smile of relief. They can go hunting in the pretty day without rain clouds.

Cinco continues to back step from the walls and each furniture item and then halts. "Where did that come from?"

Breck moves inside the hallway.

Inside the den room, Cinco yells with a smile and stares at the new object on the side wall, "Breck, come back in here."

"I am out here."

"Come in here. I found another oil portrait."

Breck rushes back inside the den and stands beside Cinco saying with a gasp, "Where in the hell did that come? I have never seen that before. Why have I never seen that before?"

"Because, we come in here for guns, not ghosts. Our mama has been busy replacing all the dead people back on the walls. However, this extremely large and single oil portrait of an old woman has blue irises too and blonde hair, another dead blood relative." He leans over and shines the bright light from his mobile telephone on the eyeballs in the painting. "Her eyeballs are not slanted to the side but pointing straight up like towards heaven."

Breck smiles, "Naw. Her eyeballs lead us upstairs to the second floor here inside the house. We go upstairs to find the treasure," he spins around with a chuckle and leaves behind Cinco.

Cinco yells out loud. "Wait! Wait for me, Breck! I found the clues. I found the treasure. I get first dibs on the gold coins," he rushes out the den and races over the floor, taking the staircase steps two by two without breaking a sweat or a heavy huff while following behind Breck.

On the second floor, Breck stops and stands in front of the center wall, studying the solid wall of yellow paint which is really a concrete wall of thick materials that might hide the treasure. "Where would the wall be located that hides the treasure?"

Cinco stops and stands beside the nose profile on Breck surveying the center wall and then each side wall that leads toward a different avenue with numerous bedrooms. "I don't know. Wow! This house is really big for searching and seeking a box of golden coins. There are two separate long hallways that contain five individual private bedrooms each. And our mama's bedroom is the eleventh bedroom and is located at the intersection point and it is the biggest and widest of them all. Do you wanna search her room? I do not. Where do we start?"

Breck exhales with frustration and then smiles. "Okay! We start with logic. The continuous line of ancient oil portraits with each pair of eyeballs inside the living room had pointed us to the new northwest direction which was inside the den. Inside the den, we found the single oil portrait which points up here to the second floor. So, the treasure is located and hidden directly underneath that oil portrait which is in the floor or on the wall. So, we have to figure out which room is directly above the den room."

"That's easy! I can go back down and measure the hallway with my extended arms. I think the hallway entrance is around twenty-five feet down inside this empty hallway and even with the den room."

Breck nods. "I agree with that measurement. Which avenue of bedrooms do we venture down?"

"Uh, I don't know."

"The den room is located underneath the second floor on the western side. So, I would say that it's the hallway on our left that we explore first and try to find the final clue that leads to the crate of golden coins."

"And I agree there too." Breck advances ahead and halts inside the hallway. "We need to measure out twenty feet and find the hidden room with the treasure. I need a measuring tape."

Cinco moves ahead and stops sideways extending both of his arms. "The total length from both of my arms is equal to my total height of six feet and six inches or seventy-eight inches."

Breck nods with a smile, "Great idea, Cinco! You are a human measurement stick." He extends his arms and stands sideways next to Cinco. "My arms are extended out. I stand beside you. My middle finger touches your middle finger. Now, we are seventy-eight inches plus seventy-eight inches which is a total of one hundred and fifty-six inches. This is double our height going sideways down into the empty hallway, which is thirteen feet. So, we circle and continue to extend our two arms for a second time and then we will be twenty-six feet down into the hallway which is right below the den room downstairs."

"Right!" He drops both arms and shuffles in front of Breck, and then stops standing beside stationary Breck, touching his middle finger with Breck's middle finger. "This is another seventy-eight inches of measurement that so far equals nineteen feet and eight inches. We're getting closer."

Breck chuckles and drops both of his arms sliding in front of Cinco and then stops standing beside Cinco, extending both arms. His middle finger pad touches Cinco's middle finger pads. "There! My middle finger on my right-hand measures twenty-six feet down here into the hallway. Where are we? What is near us and below the den space on the ground floor?"

He turns and scans each side wall. "One side wall holds a row of bedrooms that views the manicured lawn and the bright western skyline. The other side displays numerous closed doors or open archways. And we stand closest to one of the empty rooms on the side wall. I say we look here first and see what we find."

Breck drops both of his arms slamming his legs and spins around with a smile entering the small room, stopping a few feet inside the mint green colored walls. "This is one of the many slave rooms from the..."

"No." Cinco spins around with a frown and enters the room with Breck. "This is a day room, where a person comes to read or mediate or study or pray or do something alone and unfriendly," he laughs. "Mama took down the entrance door and redecorated the tiny room with her girly touch. No man would ever venture into here without a gun and a knife," he laughs with his brother.

Breck points at the side wall that holds a sitting chair in rose color, a side table with a crystal lamp, and a gigantic ancient oil portrait of a tiny baby in pink clothes with a head of blonde curls, a tone of pale skin, and a pair of blue eyeballs on the wall. "Look over there! There's another ancient oil painting," he dashes ahead with Cinco and stops studying the single portrait.

Cinco frowns. "What in the fuck is this? The baby's blue eyeballs are pointing down like she is viewing hell."

Breck frowns, "Naw! There must be another explanation."

He frowns. "So, we are to go back down the stairs and on the ground floor and...and...and find the treasure. We just left there to come of here. I do believe that someone is playing us for a pair of fools. Or someone placed the wrong portrait up here inside the room."

Breck shakes his skull. "No. I do not believe so, Cinco."

"How do you figure out that one?"

Breck surveys the room with a stern face. "You mentioned it before. A professional mover company moved and then stored each ancient oil portrait in the attic and labeled each spot on the wall. Then our mama hired them back and they came and then replaced each portrait in the same place."

He frowns and jabs his dirty finger at the painting. "Then why didn't our mama notice the funny looking eyeballs? And why didn't Grandmother McCory notice the funny looking eyeballs? Both lived here in this house."

Breck turns and nods to Cinco, "Because our mama runs a cow ranch with over six thousand acres of farm land that produces both livestock and food crops. She doesn't have time to sit around and stare at a row of ancient oil portraits and eyeballs. And if she had, then she thought the artist was an idiot. Or it was the art form during the 1800s. Whatever! Our mama didn't think it was important. But we have found the clues and we know this is important. And this wall like the other wall is poured three inches of solid concrete which cannot be damaged even with a wrecking ball. That's why I didn't hear you snoring."

"I don't snore. We're triplets. None of us snore." He frowns at the painting, "So, what does the new eyeball clue mean?"

Breck quickly spins around with a smile and rushes out the room yelling out loud. "We go back down stairs and find out why." Cinco spins around and exits the room sighing with a gasp.

They swiftly race each other down the staircase with a set of chuckles during the fun treasure hunt. They quickly turn at the staircase banister and race ahead towards the entrance hallway that leads down a majority of the ground floor rooms. They rush into the semi-darkness and narrow hallway and then halt a few feet from the archway.

Breck looks up with a smile and points at the dark painted ceiling of wooden panels. "Okay. We're standing a few feet below the second story floor which is located directly above my beauty blonde colored hair roots. Now, as we slowly move ahead down the narrow hallway, we are passing our Pig Pen room and the first slave room."

Cinco slowly moves beside Breck and stares up at the ceiling saying with a frown. "Don't call it that, a slave room! Slavery was a terrible thing for some people. The room is a huge walk-in closet that contains nothing, but air molecules."

He continues to stare up at the ceiling. "Then we pass your bedroom and the second slave room."

"That large room with a door is also a huge closet that contains nothing, but air molecules."

Breck stops and then views the ceiling, "Stop! We are directly above my bedroom and third slave room."

"That room is a den setting with all type of girly decorations."

"Whatever!" Breck continues to stare with a smile at the ceiling. "The new den room and the old slave room display a single oil portrait of that pretty girl with a pair of eyeballs looking back down toward the ground floor. Why is she looking down?" He looks down and surveys the wooden planks that made up the dark and narrow hallway. "We were just down here and inside the den setting."

He laughs. "That pretty girl is your great-great-great-great aunt, a blood relative."

Breck frowns. "Whatever! Why are we back down here on the first floor? The single oil portrait of that old woman with the pair of upward eyeballs inside the den room told us to go upwards and we did that."

Cinco leans over and touches the dark paint on the wall. "Why is the hallway dark and narrow? You and I cannot stand side by side without slamming a shoulder into the wall. I always thought that weird."

Breck turns and surveys one side of the wall. "Back then, people were shorter in height with smaller bones from poor diets and lack of food rather than like us tall, giant men." He laughs with Cinco.

Cinco slowly scoots along the wall and stops staring at the single oil portrait. "Look over here! I can't believe this. Well, I didn't see this before. There is an oil painting right here inside this semi-dark and narrow hallway of solid taupe colored concrete. If I were not standing in front of it, then I would miss it completely. Actually, I have missed it for years. Why have I not seen the painting before?"

Breck spins around with a smile, moves across the hallway, and then stops standing beside Cinco, staring at the portrait. "Well, the narrow hallway is not illuminated with a row of bright overhead lamps. Old Man McCory ran out of Confederate dollar bills," he laughs with Cinco.

Cinco leans over and gently touches the colored paint on the portrait without knocking the object off the wall. His mother Arie would become upset if that happened. He whips out his had away then reaches for his mobile telephone and swishes the screen with light lifting the lighted screen towards the portrait.

Breck exhales with annoyance. "Well, Old Man McCory is laughing at his dumb ass modern-day kinfolks inside his ancient grave. This is a wild goose chase for the absent golden egg."

"Look at this, Breck!" He leans into the wall and shines the bright light from his mobile telephone on the painted face. "This portrait is a young man. Both of his eyelids are slanted over the whites of the blue colored eyeballs. That's why we didn't see any white hue here inside the semi-dark hallway. And his two eyeballs veer down towards the hallway. What is down there?"

Breck back steps into the middle of the hallway and stares at each room. "We're standing between the living room archway and the ballroom archway."

He frowns. "The ballroom is a massive structure of naked walls. One wall has a lengthwise mirror. The other wall are rows of low-lying glass windows and sets of glass patio doors. The side wall consists of half-ass fluted columns of painted peach colored concrete. Mama's got a thing for peach paint," he laughs with Breck. "Could the golden treasure chest be located inside one of the half-assed constructed fluted columns of solid concrete?"

"No."

Cinco frowns. "The other side wall inside the ballroom is..."

"...more concrete," Breck frowns. "The treasure is not there. And if it is, then it will rest until eternity. Mama will ever allow us to break that mirror or puncture that wall. However, further down the hallway there is the library archway, that we never visit, only asshole Flamingo."

He back steps and stands with Breck nodding with a smile, shining the light at the two eyeballs. "I do believe these two eyeballs are slanting towards the library archway. This hallway is composed of two walls of solid concrete that holds the upstairs level of each bedroom frame. There's nothing between the room and this wall."

Breck laughs. "And if there is something, then we can't find it. Mama would beat our ass if we damaged this hallway wall for gold or fun or nonsense."

He nods with a smile. "That makes perfect sense to me! Old Man McCory has hidden his secret golden egg inside one of the outer room walls that faces the lush woodlands. If the Yankees soldiers had invaded his house, they would have broken through this interior hallway concrete first while looking for treasure. And they would have found nothing. Old Man McCory is smart, not crazy," he turns and heads into the library room. "Follow me! There's something for us inside the library." He disappears through the archway.

Breck spins around with a smile and rubs his hands dashing behind Cinco, moving through the archway.

Inside the library room setting, the space is a long rectangular shape. Two side walls are adorned with a ceiling to floor built-in wooden book shelf in light pine wood that contains hundreds of upright and sideways ancient and modern books, novels, textbooks, and manuscripts. The entrance wall contains a set of double doors that stays open and another built-in wooden book shelf of books on each side of the door frame that winds around into the two side walls.

The rear wall displays a long row of low glass windows that views miles of manicured yard with pods of flowers and groves of shade trees and the flat yellow bricked driveway that leads around the house to the rear parking garage. In the middle of the wall, there is a brown, tan, and white tinted stone fireplace that is not lit with a roaming fire during the spring days at the McCory cow ranch house.

The middle space features a living room setting that stands on top of a dark wooden floor with a long sofa, two sitting chairs, and two loveseats that displays a crazy pattern of colorful palm-sized squares on the furniture fabric.

Arie had purchased the furniture pieces from a local retail shop, where a group of elderly women had quilted tons of homemade fabrics from leftover and used clothes and then the elderly men nailed the crazy pattern fabric onto each furniture item.

Cinco shades his eyeballs from the bright sunlight and the crazy pattern on the furniture pieces standing in the middle of the room, scanning each wall with a puzzled brow.

Breck enters and stops a few feet from the open archway saying with a smile. "No one comes in here for anything, not even our mama. The fabric sucks on this furniture setting. Why do we have this ugly stuff?"

"This is one of our mama's many charity purchases from a local vender here in Lacy Springs."

Breck laughs, "Geez! She should donate it to the horses in the barns. Horses are colorblind unlike her three sons," He slides sideways and stops reaching out, touching some of the books on the shelf. "There's nothing in here that leads to the golden goose egg, Cinco. This is another dead end. Three walls are completely covered in tons of books appearing ugly, pretty, smelly, fragrance. Why does a book smell nice?" He stops and leans down sniffing the book.

Cinco continues to stand in place and scans the room. "That's a love book."

He frowns. "What's a love book?"

"That book you're touching with your dirty finger pads had been given to the man from his love-gal as a love gift."

"Who told you that lie?"

Cinco moves ahead, stops, and stands in front of the fireplace. "Grandmother Dunlap does not lie. Grandmother Dunlap told me that book was douched in girly perfume and given to her boyfriend as a positive sign that she wanted to get married, right now, today. And I guess it worked. She became one of our married great-great-great blood relatives. Our family tree is really tall with numerous branches."

He removes his hand from the smelly book and stares at the back spine on Cinco. "What are you doing? There's nothing here inside this library room but books and books and books. Each wall is covered in books and books and books. The forward wall contains a row of glass that views the lawn, not books. And the fireplace is broken."

"Wow!" Cinco quickly back steps from the hearth of the fireplace and tosses both arms in the air seeing the new red and blue tinted real fire, hearing it snap inside the stone fireplace. "The fireplace works."

He gasps in alarm and stares at the new fire inside the hearth. "How is that possible?"

Cinco sniffs the air with a smile and moves ahead leaning down into the hearth. "I smell gas. Mama has been updating some of the old manor appliances, like this fireplace. It contains a true fiery fire from electric gas, not cut down logs of wood."

He continues to stand beside the side wall of book and exhales with boredom. "Mama is becoming too modernized now."

Cinco nods, "Mama is trying to save her two hundred years old antebellum house, Breck. She's lucky to be rich and can do it. She has replaced some of the broken stone plates and inserted an electric gas line for heat in here."

"We found the light," he tosses both arms in the air with laughter and slaps them down onto his running shorts nodding with a smile. "We're done with our silly treasure hunt. Let's go riding on anything with four legs or four wheels, Cinco."

Cinco reaches over and touches the wall slamming down the light switch plug that has activated the cracking fire inside the fireplace. The fire dies out. He slowly back steps from the brown, tan, and white tinted stone pieces and surveys the fireplace and the lower wall below the window panes that do not have a row of books, tripping over the object. He falls then lands on his butt-hole sounding with a grunt, staring at the upright object. "What is that? What am I staring at?"

Breck slowly moves ahead with a smile at the object, stops, then stands beside a grounded Cinco studying the object. "That...that is...is..."

"...a wooden cross," Cinco laughs. "Do we have a pale skinned, black-haired vampire haunting our manor? Do you suck the blood from the sheep? I noticed that our sheep were all missing," laughing.

He frowns at the object. "That is a walking cane stationary stand that holds a set of individual walking canes, which are used by elderly people, who can't walk to good. And we have never owned a herd of grazing sheep here, bro. And you're going to take over the operations of the farm. Geez, Louise!"

"My name is Cinco, not Louise." Cinco slowly stands upright on his kneecaps and stares at the object with a set of chuckles, "A candy stand. Where does a candy stand do? I don't get it," he laughs alone.

Breck smiles and points down at the object that is nailed down onto the wooden floor "The wooden cross of dark wood is a walking cane stand for a walking cane, not a candy stand for selling peppermints and chocolate drops."

"O!" Cinco continues to stare at the object and reaches out to touch the wood. "That cane stand is in a strange position in the floor."

He points down at the cane stand. "The cane stand is slightly away from the fireplace, where an old person can stand in front of the fiery flames. I bet the old men would stand there and warm their ass as their old woman sits on top of the ugly furniture, reading a book," he laughs with Cinco.

"I guess." Cinco rubs both of his palms over the wooden cane. "The wood is polished and smooth and shaped like a tiny cross that stands upright on the floor."

He frowns. "It might also be a hat stand too. A wet cowboy hat can stand on top of the cross tip drying out from a roaring fire. A long time ago, a fireplace was the only source of heat during rain storms and snow blizzards here in Lacy Springs."

Cinco slowly slides over the floor on his knees, stops, and then stands beside a second object pointing down at the object. "Well, there are two cane stands here on each side of the fireplace. The McCory had a lot of asses warming here," he laughs with Breck.

Breck stands upright and spins around saying with a smile. "Well, we have solved the mystery of the cane stand and finished our search. Let's go hunting with guns on horseback, Cinco."

Cinco continues to rub the second wooden cross feeling puzzlement. The outer wood is not polished like the first wooden cross. He leans down and vigorous rubs the wood over each rough part when one wooden cube pops off from its protruded side arm. He gasps in alarm. "O no! Breck, Breck, come over here. I did something to the ancient cane stand. A tiny wooden part has fallen off down into my hand," he lifts up the wooden cube with worry above his hair roots.

Breck slowly spins around with a worried brow and moves back to Cinco staring at the lonely wooden cube. "Geez, Cinco! I can't leave you alone for two seconds without some type of destruction in our home. Mama is going to be so mad, at you," he laughs and halts standing beside Cinco, staring down at the broken cube.

Cinco continues to hold the cube in one hand and rubs the opening with his other hand standing upright with worry. "Help me! Help me place it back into the wooden cane stand!"

"All right! All right! Calm down! We can explain that the walking cane stand is old like our mama. Then she's be mad at us referencing her old age of thirty something years instead. Then she'll forget all about the damaged cane stand. Do you see how easy my new deception plan works?" He kneels on the floor with laughter and reaches out with a smile gently touching the upright cane stand, examining the busted item.

"Well, that sound like a good plan, if it works for you, first-born ratty tattle-tail," Cinco frowns down at the cane stand with the missing cube part. "I can't figure out how to insert the cube back into the empty hole. It acts like it doesn't want to fit again."

"Nonsense! Back away, Cinco!" He sweeps his arm backwards and slams into Cinco's leg. Then Breck leans down even with the cube opening and views a metal pole that holds the wooden cane on top of the floor, reaching inside, cleaning out the hole. "The hole is dirty with particles of aged sawdust and years of decay. That's all." Another wooden cube drops down and sounds with a soft ping on top of the wooden floor. He gasps in shock and stares down at the second broken cube on the floor, "O no! Another cube fell down from the wooden cane stand."

Cinco points with laughter at Breck. "Do you see there? You jerked it off when you touched the opening."

He frowns. "I didn't jerk it off. The second wooden cube just fell off from the ancient stand. I barely touched it," Breck reaches out and touches the new opening. Another wooden cube drops off and falls on the wooden floor with a soft ping. He gasps at the third cube, "Geez, Louise! The ancient cane stand contains termites or bugs or something other pests or toxins which is destroying the interior, which is not me."

Cinco leans over and touches the wood around the new opening. Another wooden cube drops down and lands on top of the floor with soft ping. "Look at that fourth wooden cube. And look at the first wooden cube. Each cube is perfectly square like someone has curved the wood flush and smooth. This is not the work of bugs or termites. This is the workmanship of a man. What is this? What does this represent?"

He leans down and picks up one of the wooden cubes nodding with a stern face. "I agree with you, Cinco. This is a woodshop skill. What does it mean?" He looks down and stares into the opening again. "I see a metal pole in the middle of the wooden cane stand. Why would a cane stand need a metal pole? The wooden stand holds the wooden cane upright."

Cinco nods. "That metal pole is anchoring the wooden cane stand down in the floor."

"But the cane stand is made of wood. You can nail the wooden stand down into the wood easier than using a metal pole. This is strange."

"This is like a puzzle," Cinco gasps. "This is a puzzle. This is a clue for us to solve coming from Old Man McCory. The two eyeballs on the dead relative led us inside here. Each wooden cube is perfectly square," he leans down and examines the cane stand. "To me, there are numerous cubes that comprise the entire wide and height of the cane stand here. The lines of wood are not smooth but jagged like each cube has been shaped and then placed on the stand for a reason. This is like a puzzle. There is something inside the middle of the standing wooden cubes that form a duplicate of a cane stand," he drops the wooden cube and reaches out slowly ripping off each wooden cube, displaying it in the air and says with a nod. "Do you see how easy it is to remove a single wooden cube from the wooden cane? This is a new puzzle for us to solve. Help me remove the cubes, Breck!" He digs all fingers into the side of the cane stand and rips off each wooden cube, hitting them down on the floor with a soft ping sound.

Breck reaches over with a smile and flings each wooden cube from the stand tossing them down on the floor with a soft ping sound also.

A few minutes later, each wooden cube lies on the floor. A naked metal pole stands alone in dark hue leading down into the wooden floor.

Breck sits back on his kneecaps and stares at the naked pole with puzzlement. "Well, that looks funny!"

Cinco sits back on his kneecaps and stares at the naked pole also. "Yeah, it does. What is a pole doing slammed down inside the wooden floor? The rough design is really messing up the pretty wooden planks. But the ugly cane stand covers up the ugly hole. Does it move or shift side to side?" He reaches out and grabs the pole leaning his weight on the top of the metal. The pole swiftly drops further down through the wooden floor and deeply into the ugly hole.

He gasps. "Wow! Yeah, it does move or shift or shuffle or dance. That ancient vertical metal pole must go down into the fertile Alabama soil. Good thing, we found this hole. We need to inform our mama and then it needs to be patched. Or we could really get an army of ants or a nest of termites in here with all this ancient wooden floor."

Cinco smiles and leans down into the pole for leverage with his heavy body. "I agree. Hey! It does move further down and deeper. I hit pay dirt, Breck."

A slow creaking sound loudly echoes throughout the quiet library setting. Each teen slowly turns a worried face and scans the room seeing only the shelves of books.

A second creaking sound loudly echoes throughout the quiet room.

"Look!" Cinco removes one hand and points down at the wooden floor. "Look behind your butt-hole, Breck!"

Breck spins around on his kneecaps and then gasps whiles down at the floor. "What is that?"

Cinco stands upright from the floor and laughs out loud. "Another new ugly hole in the nice wooden floor," he stops and squats down reaching out, touching the side of the new hole. "This is going to really make our mama mad when she finally returns back from her vacation with A.J. It looks like one of the wooden planks has broken in half."

He scoots over and stops kneeling beside Cinco, gasping at the new hole. "No. The wooden plank has a set of metal clips underneath the wood which has opened up the hole. This is not a hole. This is a hidden compartment underneath the wooden floor. Didn't you remember? This is an old, old house. Someone built a hidden compartment under the floor planks hiding stuff and we found it over a century later. Is that the gold treasure we're hunting for?"

Cinco leans down and stares down at the interior of the compartment. "The interior is made of wood and there is something down there. Lots of somethings!" He reaches down and touches one of the objects drawing it from its home, halting in the air. "This is metal and heavy," he leans over and taps a blue tinted object. "I think it's a silver-tinted eating fork. The silver is tarnished and blue colored for decades and decades and decades of age. Wow! We found true ancient silverware pieces. I bet Old Man McCory hid these objects down the hole from his friends and his family members, before he went off to war."

"It looks like one of his family members found the valuable silver tinted stash first, before us really." He leans over and looks down into the hole without touching anything. "Is there anything else down there?"

"Naw!" Cinco pulls out each tarnished utensil and places the item by his leg.

He sits back with a smile. "Well, we struck silver, not gold, Mama. We have to give some type of excuse, after we show her this busted hole in the floor," Breck stands upright from the floor and spins around with a smile. "Now, we accomplished our ambitious task. Let's go hunting now, bro."

Cinco continues to kneel and stares down into the hole. "The bottom of the compartment wood looks funny. It's colored in yellow hue."

He spins around and faces the door, moving ahead with a smile. "It's old, old, ancient wood, probably rotten from years, decades, centuries of neglect. Mama needs to fix that too."

Cinco reaches down and wiggles the object from the bottom of the compartment. "No! There is something else here." He draws up the item with a gasp and opens the yellow tinted paper with a smile. "This is a map. Come over here and look at this, Breck! I found an old ancient paper map."

He spins around from the entrance doors with a gasp, dashes ahead, and halts leaning down over the blonde-colored hair roots on Cinco, "A map of what?" Breck studies the new map with confusion.

Cinco smiles down at the map. "This is a map of the interior of the house. There is not a name on the square shaped object, but it is a room. The layout is very familiar to my eyeballs and my naked feet. I see the entrance hallway, the grand staircase, the big living room, the smaller den space, and the library room, where we are currently sitting. However, the next room is filled with a string of weird alphabetic letters."

He gasps in acknowledgement. "That's the music room," Breck spins around, dashes ahead exiting the library room, disappearing through the open archway.

Cinco gasps in alarm and stands upright from the floor leaving the mess on top of the floor, exiting the library room and enters the music room.

Inside the new setting, the space is another rectangular-shaped space with four walls of white paint.

The forward wall contains a row of low-lying glass windows that view the lawn, the driveway, and the woodlands same as the living room and the library room settings. Each wall is painted with a line of black tinted musical notes that travel up and down over the length of the wall while connecting each wall around the room.

The ceiling wooden planks are painted in white hue.

The floor is comprised of black tinted bamboo wood.

In the middle of the floor, a living room setting of curvy, red tinted leather stares at the wall corner consisting of a curvy sofa and three curvy loveseats for the sitting audience to enjoy the newest musician.

In the same wall corner, on the entrance wall, a black tinted grand piano stands alone and lonely with a matching padded bench seat in white hue. The piano keyboard is covered for protection.

A long time ago, each son started playing the piano while studying music theory and musical notes at the age of eight years old. Over time, each son advanced from the piano into a set of drums, then a row of guitars, and finally a few banjos for musical entertainment fun.

Now, the music room stands lost in time without a talented musician.

Breck enters the music room first with a smile and stops a few feet into the room standing in front of the sofa, studying the wall. Each white tinted wall contains a gigantic black colored musical note. Above the gigantic musical note, there is the musical letter designation, such like, A, B, C, D, etc.

Decades ago, Arie repainted each wall with a flowing line of each black tinted musical note when her three sons were learning to read and play music while getting out of major trouble. Her plan worked beautifully. Each one of her sons enjoyed learning music until they switched gears into learning about teenage girls.

At the open archway, Cinco enters next into the room and holds the ancient yellow tinted map, then stops standing beside Breck.

Breck nods with a smile. "Read the line of the secret alphabetic letters."

Cinco smiles down at the map. "DDEE..."

"Stop!" He moves ahead and slides down on the piano bench, reaching out touching the musical keys. He leans over and rolls his ten fingers smoothly through the entire piano keys for fun, lifting both hands and then cracks his joints. "Now, I'm ready."

Cinco laughs out loud. "What are you doing, Breck?"

He smiles and looks down at the piano keyboard. "This is the music room. That old paper map contains a string of alphabetic letters comprised of musical notes. We are directed into the music room by the map. Thus, we play the grand piano here inside the music room. Then, a secret panel will open when the right musical key is struck or stroked or slammed down by my pair of magical hands on the piano keyboard," Breck laughs alone.

Cinco frowns. "Boy, you read too much fantasy novels. That's just nonsense. This is a not a haunted house with a she-ghost or a witch charm that opens up a secret door and reveals the box of hidden golden nuts for squirrely Breck," he laughs alone.

He sneers down at the keyboard. "Read me the musical notes, Cinco!"

"Fine!" Cinco looks down at the map and smiles. "DDEE..."

He taps on each musical note with a smile.

Cinco continues to read out loud. "HINOOPP..."

"What!" He lifts his hands from the piano keyboard and spins around sneering at Cinco. "That's not a set of musical notes. Can't you read a simple string of alphabetic letters?" He stands upright from the bench seat and struts ahead towards his brother wearing a sour frown, extending his to the map, "Gimme the map!"

Cinco smiles and extends the map to Breck. "Yeah, I can read a string of alphabetic letters, since the first grade. However, a string of musical notes which are also letters do not possess the letter of H or I or N or..."

"I know that," he snaps and reads the map seeing a line of letters. "There must some other usage with the string of alphabetic letters from this map inside the music room," he looks up with a smile, "I know. Each wall displays both the musical notes and the associated musical alphabetic letters." He moves ahead towards the wall with the letter of E.

"These walls were repainted by our mama, Breck."

Breck stops and stands in front of the gigantic black colored musical note. "And she repainted over the original alphabetic letters. I might be able to see the string of letters here on the wall which might pinpoint the secret door. Go and look on one of the other walls and see if you notice the pattern on the map, bro."

Cinco spins around with laughter and moves ahead stopping in front of the side wall, studying each musical note and the designated musical letter. "O..."

"O what! What did you find?" He spins around with a gasp and studies at the white wall of black notes in front of Cinco.

"No!" Cinco laughs and stares at the same wall. "There is no O. I was repeating the next alphabetic letter from the map, which is the letter of O. O. O. O. O..."

"Shut your noise, Cinco!" He spins back around with a frown and slowly starts his examination of the wall beside the piano, slowly scooting down the white wall, scanning each musical note with a letter on top. He heads down the side wall and then turns the wall corner. He crouches down and stares at the line of black painted musical notes underneath the long glass window panes.

Cinco continues to slowly scoot down the opposite side wall with a smile and whispers the missing letter of O for fun, crouching down to see the black notes, slamming his shoulder into Breck in the middle of the glass windows, on the forward wall. "O! Ouch! O my gawd!"

He stands upright with a frown and stares through the glass at the manicured lawn. "Did you find the alphabetic symbol letter of O?"

Cinco stands upright with laughter and slams into Breck again for fun. "I just told you. O! Ouch! You ran into my body. Does that tell you that I didn't find the letter of O on the newly painted wall? Mama painted over the letters. This is a lost cause. I'm ready to go hunting now, dude."

Breck scoots around Cinco with a stern face and crouches down at the line of musical notes underneath the rest of the window panes. "No. We have a really old map. We have a string of letters on a really old map. The string of letters is located here inside this room somewhere. We need to find them. Then we find the gold."

Cinco slowly scoots sideways with a sour frown and stares out the window at the bright sunshine and the woodlands. "Mama painted over the secret passageway. We will never find that hidden door. Or maybe, she found the hidden doorway during the painting job and then sealed it from her two mischievous children. This is a wise of time for us. I thought you didn't believe in the hidden golden nuggets."

He reaches the wall corner and turns the wall corner standing upright, slowly scooting over the wall and then scans the walls for the missing letter. "I didn't. But I do now."

Cinco turns the wall corner and stares into the white paint, sounding with a series of soft chuckle, spinning around with a smile and stares at the back spine on Breck. He slowly bumps into the wall making a set of smear marks with his dirty hand and clothes. "Well, I don't know now. We can leave once you hit the open doorway. Let's grab a terrain vehicle and race to the turkey ground for fun. Then I'll kill the first bird for victory," he tosses both of his arms in the air and bumps backwards into the wall shouting out loud. "O! Ouch!" He spins around and looks at the wall seeing a piece of wood. He drops down and taps on the wall shouting with a smile. "Breck, come over here. I found something on the wall."

Breck spins around with a smile and scoots around the furniture pieces, then stops standing beside Cinco. "I knew it. I knew it. Did you find the letter of O or P or H or I?"

"No. I didn't find any alphabetic letters. I find a piece of wood that goes sideways on the wall," he continues to touch the wall sideways and slowly moves sideways heading back down towards the forward wall. "There is a long sideways panel of wood down here at kneecap level. Mama, she must've painted over the walls and then painted over this thing too. She didn't know there was a secret passage on this wall." He stands upright and spins around to face the wall and as his eyeballs turns to find the piece of wood. Breck leans down and touches the wood with his hands extending the map to Cinco. Cinco moves ahead and takes the map surveying the ceiling down to the floor on the same wall. "This wall leads outside into the driveway. There is nothing behind here but empty space. Why place a secret door here?"

Breck whips out his switchblade. "Stand back from blade, Cinco." Cinco swiftly scoots backwards from the knife and folds the ancient map storing down into his pocket. Breck flips his wrist in a circle that whips out the sharp blade, leaning down, rubbing the wood panel. "There is an edge here on the wooden panel. I guess the painters caulked the seam like an open hole and then painted over the opening while sealing the piece of wood foreverly into the wall. The wall paint looks pretty. If you didn't happen to touch the wood, then you would never know that it's hidden here," he stabs the tip of the blade into the caulking. Small chunks of white caulking drop down on the floor. "Yes, there is an edge here on the wooden panel which is deep. Use your switchblade and work the wooden panel on the wall from the opposite end of me, Cinco. This is going to take some time."

Cinco leans over and touches the wood feeling the rough surface, sliding down the opposite side from and says with worry. "This is going to get us into major trouble, Breck. We've already destroyed the wooden floor inside the library room. Now, we're destroying the length of one wall inside the music room. Mama is going to be really pissed at you, Breck," he laughs with Breck.

"Geez, Louise! Those white rats were big and ugly and tall with big nasty sharp teeth, Mama," Breck laughs again with Cinco and continues to eat through the caulking exposing the seam inside the wooden panel while his teenly feels are curiosity, intrigued and excited.

Cinco laughs and whips out his knife flicking his wrist that extends the switchblade. He leans down and starts to work stabbing the wall into a sealed seam, sounding with a set of heavy grunts.

Ten minutes later, the black floor is covered in white particles and white dust.

Breck and Cinco slowly kneel in the trash items on the floor and observe each open seam on the damaged wall.

Cinco frowns with puzzlement. "This is a strange configuration of wood. Is this another silly design on the wall, instead of the floor? I thought it was a single piece of wood by sideways. Instead, it is numerous tiny panels of wood, which are individual. What is this?"

Breck stands upright and leans down slapping the tip on the blade down on top of the first individual piece of wood. More individual white caulking chips drop down on the floor. The first individual wooden panel slowly extends down to the floor but then stops revealing a nicely hand-carved wooden alphabetic letter symbol of an A. "Look at that!" He points at the item with a smile.

Cinco frowns at the letter A. "What is that?"

"This wooden piece built into the wall at the vertical tail end displays a new message, the letter of A. Does it contain more letters of the alphabet? Pull the caulk chips down on the rest of the wood panels, Cinco!" He scoots over and works on each individual panel.

Cinco starts on the opposite side and copies Breck's moves. They meet in the middle with a smile and close each knife replacing it back down into a pocket for safety.

Breck laughs. "I see a string of the hand-carved alphabets on the tail end of each wood panels. This is it! This is the secret panel for getting to the golden treasure. The stash of gold nuggets has been behind this wall the entire time."

Cinco laughs with a nod. "The map with the letters is the key to opening the door," he pulls out the map and stares down at the tiny hand-written letters reading out loud the first letter, "E."

He smiles and wiggles both of his hands in the air anticipating the next step while finding the gold nuggets, "We have exposed the entire string of alphabet letters. Okay. First, slowly read out loud each letter in order again from the map. Second, let me slap each alphabet letter on the wall that carefully activities the entrance into the secret hidden passage room. Then read me the next alphabet letter." He reaches out and slaps the hand-carved wooden letter of E and watches the wall for movement while listening for any sound. "Nothing yet! Now, read off the next alphabetic letter."

Cinco smiles, "D."

"O! I see." He slams the matching alphabetic letter panel. "Read me the next letter, bro."

Cinco nods. "D."

He frowns. "I did that."

Cinco repeats, "D."

He points down at the block of wood. "Look. I slapped panel with the letter of D, Cinco."

"No. The next letter in the string sequence is a second letter D."

He laughs. "O! It's a repeat. What is the next letter?"

"E."

He smiles, "Keep it going more swiftly! Then the secret door will open for us."

Cinco slowly reads out loud each letter, "EHINOOOPPRSTTU."

Breck runs across the row of exposed wooden panels and slams each letter back stepping from the wall, presenting a smile and stands beside Cinco.

Cinco frowns. "What's the wall doing?"

He frowns, "Nothing! The wall is doing nothing, not even growling with movement."

Cinco smiles, "Is it asleep?"

"No."

Cinco frowns. "Is it broken?"

"Maybe!"

Cinco shouts out loud, "O De...hi...no...pr... stu!"

He frowns. "Why did you say? Where did you get word? Is that a word?"

Cinco points down at each wooden block. "I read out loud each exposed hand-carved letter on the damaged wall like a true word. I thought speaking the new silly word would work the wooden mechanisms inside the wall. But it didn't."

He frowns. "Well, we are stuck or struck or shitted on again. How many times can you experience bad luck in one day?"

"Three!" Cinco points down at the map "I think the double letters mean something."

"Then what happens after three times of bad luck?"

"You die," Cinco laughs. "So, say your prayers, Breck!"

Breck frowns. "What does a double letter mean to the wall?"

Cinco moves ahead and stops leaning down in front of the letter T, examining the wooden panel. "Hey! I found something new. This wooden block clicks down to another notch. That's it. There is a set of individual notches that allows each individual wooden panel to travel further down on the wall, if there is a double letter."

"Good eyeballs, Cinco! Great job!" He smiles and steps forward into the wall again. "I'm ready."

Cinco smiles. "All right! I'll slowly call out the sequence pattern of letters again. You click down the second letter on the same panel. Then, we'll see that happens."

He frowns. "I hope that I don't die, Cinco."

Cinco laughs. "You won't. DDEEHINOOOPPRSTTU."

He gently clicks down the notch for a duplicate letter consisting of D, E, O, P, and T. Then he back steps and stands beside Cinco smiling at the wall. Breck coughs and then gags out loud slapping his hand over his heart, dropping down on the floor. He shouts out loud, "Help me! I can't breathe," he lands on the floor and coughs out loud.

"What!" Cinco turns and gasps in worry staring down at Breck who rests on top of floor and wiggles side to side. Cinco drops down and touches the arm on Breck. "What's wrong? Are you injured? Are you bleeding? Are you okay? Why did you fall on the floor, Breck?"

"I died." He laughs out loud and wiggles side to side then sits upright on his ass, smiling at Cinco.

Cinco shoves Breck's chest and sneers with anger. "Bastard, you scared me. I thought something was wrong with you."

He continues to grin at Cinco. "Well, we have been stuck or struck or shitted on again."

A loud creaking sound echoes throughout the quiet music room.

Cinco reaches over with a sour frown and slaps the chest on Breck saying with fury, "Stop making your silly, stupid body sounds. The hidden wall panel or door is broken. The wooden panel was carved or created over a century ago."

A second loud creaking sound echoes throughout the quiet music room.

"That wasn't me the first time or the second time," Breck turns and scans the room while sitting on the floor. Cinco turns and scans the room with worry also.

On the damaged wall with a row of exposed wooden blocks, in the wall corner, near the side wall of windows, a vertical panel slowly coughs out loud, slides sideways and then halts creating a slender vertical opening for one person.

Cinco and Breck slowly turn and view the vertical crack inside the wall corner.

"Me, first!" Cinco shoves Breck backwards and quickly stands upright shuffling his feet towards the new door, laughing with an evil tone.

"No! Me, first!" Breck leans over and wraps both of his hands around the naked ankle on Cinco. They are both the same height and weight and equal strength.

Cinco sneers and grunts with annoyance, "Get off my leg, asshole! This is my golden treasure box, shit ass! You didn't believe me. You incurred three curses too. You should be dead by now," He slowly drags his foot over the smooth floor surface while dragging Breck along for the slow ride towards the vertical crack in the wall corner.

He continues to hug at the ankle bone on Cinco and sneers with gritted teeth. "I'm still alive and well and kicking. If you get the gold, then I do too."

Cinco shakes one leg with a sneer and slowly stomps forward with on his other foot reaching the crack, standing in the opening. He slides one hand through the vertical opening and holds his breathe shoving the partial door panel away from his face sounding with a heavy grunt. He releases his sour breathe and holds his breath again shoving the door again away from his face, exhaling with a failed effort. He pants. "I can't open the damn door. The slender door is too thick and too heavy. Get up here and help me, Breck!"

Breck releases Cinco's ankle and stands upright shuffling beside Cinco, leaning over and shoves his hand through the same opening. He holds his breathe and shoves the door sideways, without success also, pulling back, inhaling sweet air molecules. "Well, the door is stuck for good, until Brother Jesus returns and lifts our dead bodies," he laughs alone.

Cinco drops on the floor and studies the dark interior space through the vertical opening. "Maybe, we should go and get an axe and then burst down the wooden frame around the door and the wall."

Breck drops on the floor and sits beside Cinco pointing at the slender door frame. "That wooden door is solid oak tree but in a square formation. I think it's a done deal here, bro."

Cinco frowns into the dark room. "I don't see any side cubbies or holes or shelves or nothing within the darkness of the new passageway."

He continues to breathe heavy from the body excursion. "It's too dark. We should get a flashlight and look through the crack and maybe record the darkness. Something might be living in there and we just opened that door releasing it into our home."

"I doubt it," Cinco laughs and reaches out rubbing the side wall panel, saying with a smile. "If something was living in there, it would dash out and be attacking your body, Breck." He continues to rub up and down the side wall panel sounding with a gasp. "I feel something. There's something curved into the wall panel. It feels like a set of math numbers, but I can't see a hand-carved picture image. This is another message. Get a pen!"

Breck laughs out loud and whips out his mobile telephone swishing the screen, typing on the keyboard, "I got my cell phone and my finger pad. Read off the string of math numbers to me. I will type them out and text them to you."

"You're smart and a smart-ass like Flamingo today. Okay," Cinco slowly feels the first number and then rubs it back and forth, seeing the number in his mind, saying out loud. "It is a sequence of numbers 3450N8660W. That's a..." he reaches over and slaps the mobile telephone down from Breck's hands saying with a sneer. "The thing is a geographical representation of a physical latitude and longitude dirt location for the secret location that hides his wooden crate of ancient real gold, which is mine."

"I know that. I got it recorded inside my mind, which is mine now." Breck quickly stands upright with laughter and spins around racing out the music room, running into the den room, where the desktop computer sits. He must pinpoint the latitude and longitude before stealing the hidden crate of gold.

"Breck! This is my find," Cinco stands upright and races out the music room disappearing into the hallway. He knows too. Breck is running back into the den room accessing the computer keyboard to quickly pinpoint the latitude and longitude for the hidden gold cache.

Inside the den space, the room is square-shaped and covered in dark wooden panels with a tan colored stone floor that offsets the darkness of the floor and the ceiling. The side wall faces a manicured lawn with a high window pane without little natuarl sunlight that keeps the office furniture desks, chairs, and all the office computer equipment cool and operational.

The entrance door from the narrow hallway contains a set of double doors that are kept closed shut every day. The paneled wall space beside the entrance doors is lined with a single office desk, a desktop computer, three wooden filing cabinets that contain information about the farm property and the farm employees. The opposite wall looks the same way, except for one viewing window.

Each side wall contains a straight line of furniture containing a loveseat in-between the two sitting chairs in an ugly cream-colored background with an assortment of large green colored pine cones. Behind the line of furniture pieces, the wall is seamed and hides the darkness. Each seam represents four individual doors, where an arsenal of weapons plus military survival gear and equipment is stored for Arie and her family members.

Old Man McCory had barely survived the Civil War in the year 1865. When he returned home, the worried land owner and family man heavily invested in weapons of war to protect his person, his family and all his future kinfolks.

Arie pays a bonded survival company in Huntsville to come and inspection, fire, and keep all the gear and weapons inside each survival cabinet fresh and supplied. Now, she has new a military boyfriend. A.J. will take over the care and protection of each weapon of destruction for his new McCory family members.

The den office door slams open and reveals Cinco. He runs inside and collides into the back spine on Breck, bad breathing down onto the collar bone on his brother. The door hits the edge on the office desk and then slams back into the archway creating a loud boom.

Breck continues to type on the keyboard with his rapid fingers and then halts, leaning down, reading the computer monitor.

Cinco smiles, "It's a latitude and longitude of mapped geography points which is located here in Lacy Springs."

He continues to type on the keyboard and stares at the computer screen. "I know that."

Cinco bounces up and down with excitement of the new clue. "I told ya. I told ya. I told ya. I knew it. I knew it. I knew it. The crate of gold is located here on our farm."

"How do you know that?"

Cinco points to his temple and wears a smile, "Use your brains, Breck! Old Man McCory hid his gold on his property, so only another McCory would find it and use it. And that location is here on our farm."

He continues to type and then pauses with puzzlement studying an image on the outer space satellite map. "How do you know that?"

Cinco points at the computer screen and says with a smile. "Pan further down with the mouse pad using the geography coordinates on the electronic map."

He taps on the mouse pad. "The geography coordinates are located within our farm property and it is shown northeast of the house. What object is northeast of our house?"

Cinco laughs. "Well, we will have found the new clue, which is inside the graveyard. Are you afraid of she-ghosts inside that ancient cemetery?"

He laughs and pulls back from the computer screen standing upright from the office chair, spinning around with a smile to see Cinco, "Naw. I ain't afraid of no he-ghost or she-ghost or dog-ghost or cat-ghost."

Cinco frowns. "There's no such thing as dog and cat ghosts."

He laughs again with a nod. "O yes, there is, bro. I read this article about all type of scary things. A cat-ghost is much more common and walks the fields around here more than a dog ghost, because a cat is attacked and then killed by many dangerous predators including dogs and males with shotguns," he scoots around Cinco and exits the den room.

Cinco laughs and follows behind Breck moving down the narrow hallway. "Good! We start there inside our family cemetery."

He gasps. "What!"

Cinco nods and exits the hallway turning to climb the staircase. "Some treasure hunters believe that a grave cemetery of dead persons and numerous upright tombstones points to the direction of the hidden treasure box."

He follows behind Cinco and says with a sour frown. "You know, it's both illegal and nasty to dig up a buried coffin, without Mama's and the ghost's permission inside our personal family graveyard. And I am not doing either. No! I refuse to go the cemetery for a ghost map."

Cinco hits the top step on the second floor and moves ahead down the hallway towards his private bedroom. "Come on, Breck! You got nothing else to do but have some fun in the sun with your bro. We can go and check and look each old tombstone. I don't wanna dig up a dead body either. Mama will not grant permission either and neither with the dead person. Come on with me, Breck! I don't wanna find the gold alone and angry, then I'll keep it alone and greedy," he laughs with an evil tone.

Breck tosses both of his hands with the mobile telephone and wears a sour frown moving ahead towards his private bedroom, dressing in ghost hunting gear or treasure hunting clothes, "Fine! Okay! You're going to whine and piss like a puppy, if I don't." He drops his hands and slaps his blue jeans.

"Yeah, I will over and over and over, again," Cinco stops and poses inside the open archway of his bedroom saying with a stern face to Breck. "Get dressed in your jeans and boots! I don't know the condition of that ancient cemetery. There could be snakes and spiders haunting the dead too."

He moves ahead with a stern face towards the open archway. "And let's take Turdie too. I don't feel like walking over the manicured lawn this morning."

"Okay with me! I'm still sore from the football game last night," Cinco enters his bedroom and dresses.

At 12:12 pm, inside the garage setting, Cinco wears a pair of dirty black tinted jeans, a pair of dirty black-tinted biker boots, and a slightly dirty, white-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt and enters the garage space first, moving along the forward wall of yellow tinted concrete. He passes a line of parked vehicles, consisting of Arie's white-tinted pickup truck, A.J.'s blue-tinted pickup truck, Breck's white-tinted pickup truck, an empty parking space.

The space belongs to Flamingo's red colored sports car. He left the house very early. And he is currently working on the school campus with Principal Marshall completing the application for the Honor Challenge which is due on midnight Monday.

Cinco continues to move ahead and passes a row of motorcycle bikes, where his blue-tinted motorcycle is parked, toting an armful of weapons and tools and then stops. He stands behind a brown-colored terrain vehicle, which has been nicknamed as Turdie, because the ugly color looks like a human turd. He reaches out with his free hand and opens the trunk, gently placing all the weapons and tools down inside the trunk space. Then he sidesteps to a side cabinet and opens the door, pulling out all the necessary tools to dig out a treasure of gold. He scoops up a group of tools and then moves back placing each one down on the rear floor for safety, securing the items. Then he repeats until the rear floor on the terrain vehicle is filled, sliding down into the driver's seat and presses the garage door remote control devise.

The sixth garage door slowly lifts from the concrete floor and stops inside its vertical slot.

Cinco stares into the bright sunshine and the nicely paved driveway feeling more excitement about the new gold hunting adventure than Breck.

At the door archway, Breck smiles and slowly moves through an open doorway from the kitchen setting without closing the door and carries a large picnic basket of food snacks and cold beverages. He is not worried about a stranger coming inside his house. There are too many farm workers and mechanical spies inside and around the house that would prompt a swift and nasty investigation with a loaded shotgun in the stunned face on a stranger visitor, especially after the kidnapping event of his mother Arie that that nasty, dead, and unnamed family unit.

Breck slides down inside the passenger seat and places the picnic basket of food in front of his boot toes twirling a golf club in the air near his smile, pointing the end of the club at the open garage door. "Tally ho, Cinco!"

Cinco slowly drives forward and wears a stern face. "I know what the picnic basket is for. Thanks for the food! You're a thoughtful brother. And I'm hunger too. But what's up with that golf club?"

"I'm going to club the snake to death," he laughs.

Cinco drives over driveway bricks and shakes his shoulder length blonde curls saying with a smile. "Good! I thought you were going to use that golf club to whack a she-ghost at the cemetery. But I guess you know that a golf club doesn't work against a she-ghost," he laughs and drivers over the manicured yard reaching down inside the picnic basket, pulling out the first food item and then eats with delight.

At 12:37 pm, after bouncing side to side over the rough terrain and slowly eating each food item from the picnic basket, Cinco arrives and parks on top of the stone walkway in front of the closed gates at the family cemetery burping out a delicious lunch meal.

Breck turns and scans the exterior structure with intrigue. "This is my first time here going inside a cemetery. We don't attend any deaths of these old dead people. The iron gates are old and rusty. Do they work? The entire graveyard is surrounded by a tall and high limestone gray colored gate which has been repaired. Is this a functioning gravesite?"

"No," Cinco kills the engine and slides out the seat moving ahead towards the gates. Breck continues to sit inside the vehicle and leans over cranking the engine. Cinco hears the familiar sound and then spins around with a gasp staring at Breck. "What in the hell are you doing, Breck?"

The radio blasts out a rock and roll song. Breck slides out from the seat and stands upright on top of the stone walkway dancing side to side, snapping his fingers. "I'm playing the captured outer space musical waves for each he-ghost and she-ghost and dog-ghost and cat-ghost. Don't they like to dance to music, bro? This is the anthem rock and roll song for the dead folks, which is entitled _Thriller_ by the superstar musician _Michael Jackson_. Thriller! Thriller nights!" He sings with the song and dances side to side slowly shuffling ahead towards the gates.

Cinco swings back around with a sour frown and opens the gates, sliding inside, stopping in front of the first row of gray colored tombstones. He can hear the rock and roll musical song that echoes through the air waves and down inside the cemetery dirt without dancing but smiling.

Breck smiles and dances inside the cemetery proper then stops gasping at the gravesite. "Geez, Louise! What is this?"

Cinco points to each tombstone while scanning the enclosure, "A grave site with many graves. I think it is the permanently dead McCory clan members. I think each dead portrait holds a dead body here inside the family cemetery."

The grass is mowed and trimmed, without weeds. Each tombstone is free from weeds and plants clearing exposing the dull-looking granite rock and chiseled information on each dead person. Each tombstone stands in a perfect line without decoration like a bouquet of fresh or dead colored flowers. The interior walls are designed of gray limestone rock where over the years, the stone has turned from white into gray and dark in certain spots but lacks green mold. Some of walls house naturally growing plant vines with an array of tiny purple or pink flowers that does not grow over any tombstone either.

Each of the six exterior walls kiss a row of tall and short shade trees, where you can see the tree tops of the taller shade trees inside the cemetery.

Breck points down towards the trimmed lawn and some of the gray tinted tombstones. "No. I wanna know this. The interior lawn is both neat and trimmed and not filled with tall weeds or slithering snakes. Why is so neatly trimmed?"

Cinco laughs. "O! Mama, she is responsible for the farm property, Breck. She keeps everything neatly trimmed and manicured to prevent snakes and such like creatures nesting around her farm, her home, and her person but can't do anything with Flamingo," he laughs with Breck.

Breck smiles and slowly moves ahead then stops on the opposite side of the spooky cemetery, looking down at the last row of tombstones saying with a sour frown. "What am I looking for, Cinco?"

Cinco moves ahead over the trimmed grass, struts down one side of the graveyard and then stops at the last row of tombstones reading the name on the first gravestone. "You need to watch for a broken edge on one or more rocks from the rows of the ancient gray tinted or marble engrained tombstones that has not been caused by the weather elements of sunshine, rain, snow flakes, lighting bolt or bird shit. Or a tombstone head with a silly name like...like Golden Honey or Golden Nuts, Honey," he laughs. "Or look for a tombstone with a set of really weird symbols or letters."
He looks down and slowly scoots sideways while viewing the letters on each tombstone. "Ugh! This place is definitely a cold remote part of the plantation."

Cinco slowly scoots down the row of tombstones and studies each one. "Look for a unique carving like a shade tree or a rose flower or a bush plant or another silly image on a tombstone."

"What kind of carvings?"

"Well, a knife carving that could be a snake or a turtle or a crescent moon or a holy cross or a number or an alphabetic English letter or a Latin letter."

"I don't really know what a Latin letter looks like. I didn't study the language of Latin, only the language of love. Flamingo might know a Latin letter look. Too bad! He's not here to find the Latin lover, I mean, letter," Breck laughs.

Cinco continues to stroll down the last row of tombstones and says with a sour frown. "It doesn't matter, dude! If you find something weird or strange or unique, then call me to over there. We can view and decrypt the design together."

Breck slowly slides down each tombstone on the first row and says with a smile. "Okay."

At 12:57 pm, Cinco and Breck collide into each other and meet in the middle row of tombstone within the cemetery.

Breck frowns down at the tombstone and shakes his skull. "I didn't find a weird looking letter or a broken piece of granite rock on any of the exhibited tombstones. What did you find over there, bro?"

Cinco stares down at the same tombstone which is damaged, "Nothing! This is so strange."

He nods. "Yeah, this is the strangest treasure hunt. Usually, the treasure map is a piece of ancient yellow colored paper with the symbol of X that marks the location of the chest. Or the circular part on an eyeball contains a set of alphabetic letters or a string of English words that represents the map that locates the hidden treasure. In here, we are clueless. Well, we quit and go hunting."

Cinco looks up and surveys each tombstone without seeing some of the letters, exhaling with frustration. "We found embedded inside the wooden archway of the music room a set of hand-carved numbers and letters that has brought us here to the family graveyard. That is the correct location from the treasure map on the door frame. This is the right location for the gold treasure chest. Old Man McCory, our true bloody and bleeding ancestor robbed the racing stagecoach in the year 1864 with a hand gun and then stole all the gold coins."

He frowns. "That's nonsense, Cinco."

"No! I am right!" Cinco looks down and studies the grass. "So, if not one of the ancient tombstones reveals the treasure, then the grass ground does. The treasure of gold is here. I feel it. So, scout out and look for a mismatched plot of grass blades, maybe with pond peddles or something weird from Mother Nature."

He frowns. "That's more nonsense, Cinco."

Cinco looks up and frowns at the nose profile on Breck, "Looky! You ain't got nothing better to do on a pretty Saturday morning. We won the football game last night. I need to exercise my mind as well as stretch out my sore muscles on my body. Come along and play with me, Breck!"

"Don't you have to get ready for your hot date with Babbie tonight?"

"My hot date is at night, not during the sunshine hours." Cinco looks down at the grass and then slowly moves around the trimmed lawn searching for any mismatched grass which could be the hidden sight of the buried treasure chest.

Breck moves ahead with a stern face and looks down at the grass feeling frustration. Cinco is not leaving the cemetery for some fun, without finding the hidden treasure or until he starts to burn and sweat in the bright sunlight, whichever comes first.

On the opposite side of the cemetery, Cinco slowly struts in the opposite direction from Breck and moves back towards the open gates studying the green tinted, nicely manicured lawn, hearing the continuous music from the satellite radio inside the vehicle. And then he halts. He continues to stand and moves sideways while scanning the stone wall that encloses the cemetery structure without seeing any type of discoloration of grass or new patch of grass or any type sign of a hidden map where the treasure chest would be buried here.

Breck halts and stands in front of the side stone wall beside a pretty flower bed of overlapping colorful yellow buttercups, daisies, pink carnations, red roses, and other flora. He does not see any type of mismatched ground cover that would indicate a map for treasure. "Well, I'm standing here in front of the wall and staring at nothing but the gray stone and stomping down in a bed of flowers. I'm done here. There's nothing here, Cinco."

Cinco stops and stands in front of the opposite side wall of light gray stone also exhaling with annoyance. "Tell me the geography numbers again from the treasure map."

"I don't know them."

"O right!" Cinco whips out his mobile telephone and finds the digital picture. "The geography latitude and longitude numbers are 34 degrees, 50 minutes to the north and a negative 86 degrees, 60 minutes to the west. So, we are in the correct place. However, these map numbers are missing the North Pole latitude degrees and the Western longitude degrees."

"A latitude point, and a longitude point together represent a different place from a physical street address, Cinco. The latitude and longitude points work with a numbered grid system that you see on a sheet of graph paper, but it covers the globe. The horizontal and vertical lines intersect at a specific location which is mapped or found on the grid system. One number for the horizontal line and a second number for the vertical line can locate the geography globe coordinates. Old Man McCory knew that also. He didn't need the North or South Pole latitude degrees for us to find the cemetery."

"O!" Cinco nods.

He slowly spins around with annoyance and moves ahead kicking each short blade of grass with boredom, slapping his boot toe into the last tombstone on the last row. He gasps in worry and swings around the tombstone ensuring no damage to the object. His mother Arie will not be happy about a broken piece coming off one of the ancient head stones. He stops and smiles down at the tombstone. "Well, I'll become a monkey's uncle."

Cinco gasps in alarm and spins around staring at the back spine on Breck. "What! What did you find? What do you see?" He dashes ahead and stops beside Breck staring down at the same tombstone, saying with puzzlement. "What!"

He laughs. "Don't you see?"

Cinco frowns. "See what? I don't see anything."

He points down at the tombstone with laughter. "Well, you missed it the first time. Then I missed it the first time. Now, you have missed a second time. But I caught it the second time."

"What are you mumbling about?"

He laughs. "Look at the tombstone! No. Read out loud the name on this tombstone."

"Tall Tree." Cinco frowns.

He laughs. "Who in the world among our McCory family tree limbs is named Tall Tree? I do not know a person or a pet that is named as Tall Tree. Both the English words are capitalized for a purpose here. Do you get it now, Cinco? How did you miss this?"

Cinco gasps in shock and points down at the tombstone. "Well, well, I...I was just viewing each letter looking for a strange letter or a piece of broken off granite. I was not really reading the information. So, yeah, I did miss it the first time. But, yay, you didn't. So, this, this is the clue to the hidden treasure chest, a tall tree. The treasure is hidden inside a tall tree or buried below a tall tree..."

"Now, I'm a believer." Breck smiles and scans the enclosure of the cemetery again. "This tombstone is marked as both ancient and weird. Only an ancient and weird man would leave a strange message inside the doorway of wood that leads us into a cemetery. I do not see a tall tree here inside the cemetery or surrounding the gray limestone wall which enclosed the rows of tombstones. So, that means, his unknown tall tree is located outside of the cemetery. That makes me happy, since I don't wanna dig up a grave and go through a dead body of bones," he shivers with creeps. "That's just creepy and wrong," he spins around with a smile and dashes ahead back towards the open gates and the terrain vehicle. "Let's go, Cinco! We need to scout for an ancient tall tree outside the enclosure of tombstones." Cinco spins around with a grin and dashes behind Breck.

They slowly close shut the rusty gates keeping the she-ghosts and he-ghosts happy and their mother Arie happier. Then they load back into the terrain vehicle.

Inside the cab, Cinco cranks the engine and slaps the steering wheel. "Which way shall we putt-putt?"

Breck looks back over his collar bone at the house. "We use geography logic here. The landscape has not changed in millions of years, since the Ice Age. The Tennessee River flows westerly to easterly. However, the big mighty Tennessee River performs a looping formation around the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs. The river acts like a border wall for all of farm land, where the fresh water feeds the soil and grows each food crop. So, we do not travel towards the east as our land ends at the vast grove of lush woodlands. We do not travel south as our house faces south and ends at the man-made main highway. We do not go north as it will lead us towards the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs and all the other established buildings that we do not own. So, that leaves the direction of west. Go west, young fool!" He laughs.

Cinco nods with a smile and quickly steers the terrain vehicle towards a westerly direction. "That was a great method of deduction geographical reasoning, Breck. You have selected the correct profession as a lawyer with that type of mental thinking."

"Thanks!" Breck reaches down and pulls out the binoculars slowly scanning the western horizon and the accompanying landscape. "We're getting closer to the gold, Cinco. I spy at an ancient real tall tree in the far distance. The ancient tree is over eighty feet tall without a vast flower garden around the tree trunk. That means, no one comes out this far but a couple of blood relatives looking for Old Man McCory's treasure chest," he laughs with his brother.

At 01:01 pm, at the tall tree location, within the heated temperatures of the bright sunny day, Cinco slides the terrain vehicle into a skipping halt a few yards from the tree and then laughs for fun. Breck jumps out from the bench seat gathering the tools for digging up the treasure of good and slowly struts ahead towards the tall tree then stops, standing a few feet from the trunk. He carefully kneels on the ground and gently releases the collection of tools onto the grass.

Cinco slides out and gathers the other tools for digging up the gold, slowly struts ahead, and then stops standing beside Breck, wearing a puzzled brow at the tall overstory tree. "So, the treasure box is buried underneath that ancient and old tree. That big tree is...is millions of years old." He squats down and carefully releases the tools down the ground also.

Breck slowly stands upright and frowns at the tree. "We do not possess a paper map here for the treasure but modern-day technology. Can you access the electronic map around this tree and the underground component and see if there is something else here?"

"Yeah, yeah, I can. I can use my phone," Cinco whips out and fiddles with his phone. "Horace has supplied me with an electronic layout of the McCory farm land property for study, in case, an animal gets lost or injured. Then I can pinpoint where to send help for the poor beastie." He slowly stands upright beside Breck.

"Yeah, I've been supplied the same electronic landscape map and the same farm advice also. The family training program is paying off for us, Cinco."

Cinco looks down and reads the electronic map for the ancient farm lands. "This is not good, Breck. If this electronic map is correct, there is a fresh water spring system really close to this old oak tree. And that underground spring water system feeds all the beautiful flowers, fruit plants, and trees right here in this arena. If you happen to dig down through the root system, we will hit a pond of fresh water. And I do believe that our mama will be infuriated and mad and pissed off at me and you for damaging the fresh water supply on the farm lands."

Breck nods at the tree. "And I agree with you, Cinco. Mama would not understand if we destroyed the tree or the tree roots which has been here for centuries, before we were birthed. And that overstory tree is very old and very tall and very wide," he kneels down and touches some of the exposed roots saying with a nod. "And if there is a treasure box that had been hidden by Old Man McCory, then that wooden treasure box is touching the reams of hell, boy. If there is something planted down the dirt, either the rats got it, or the tree has destroyed it. The root system flows above the dirt for thousands of yards. I don't think the treasure box is here. Could this be another subtle and hidden message coming from a dead and deceased Old Man McCory instead?"

Cinco squats down and touches each exposed root saying with a nod. "The tree roots are thick and wide and exposed on the top soil but grow deep down in the dirt where it feeds off the underground fresh water system."

He stands upright from the grass and smiles at the old tree. "I think we hit a natural obstacle roadblock, Cinco. The treasure hunt was fun. We almost found the treasure box."

Cinco continues to squat down and touches the tree roots. "Naw. There is something more here. If I can only figure it out! The door frame of carved out wooden letters and numbers led us to the cemetery. Then the cemetery displayed a fake tombstone with the word, Tall Tree. Now, we find a tall tree. There is something else here at this tall tree secretly coming from Old Man McCory. There is something important about this tall tree. This tall tree might hold a symbol to a pathway of riches for us, Breck. Describe the components of this tall tree!"

He exhales with smile and studies the tall tree, "All right! I ain't got nothing else to do for the day. Too bad! Flamingo is missing this treasure hunt. He does enjoy a mental and intellectual challenge."

Cinco stands upright from the grass and studies the tree also. "Flamingo is getting a real-life challenge here and working with Marshall there on the school campus. Principle Marshall is placing a lot of pressure on Flamingo to provide a grand application, so the high school will win this Honor Challenge thing. I don't know if I agree that Flamingo should pursue this thing. Yeah, it is an honor for Flamingo, but many others will benefit on Flamingo's coat tails."

He frowns. "That's life, Cinco. Whatever you do, others will follow or rob or grab or take credit for it. That's why we are all going to college and learn and fight for our rights as an American student and eventually as an American land owner. Flamingo is a hard ass that loves a challenge. He will pursue and perform well with this Honor Challenge thing. I am quiet shore."

Cinco points at the tree. "This tree has numerous tree branches. A tree provides shade during the sun like this one. A tree provides leaves as food for the animals. But this tree does not produce leaves. A tree offers a good tree house for playful children. I don't see any other purpose here." He slowly moves around the tree trunk while tripping over the exposed tree roots. "And I don't see any type of knife carvings on the tree trunk, where a person would have carved a message or a symbol or even the two personal initials of a lover. The tree trunk is smooth and has been eaten away by all the weather elements over the centuries. Usually, a message on the tree trunk is an etching knife wound of a figure eight that is a few inches long on the bark and wears a winding tail that points down to the ground which displays the treasure box. That is not here."

He slowly moves around the tree trunk and wears a stern face and then stops looking up at the low tree branch. "Come and look at this, Cinco!"

Cinco smiles. "What do you see?"

"Come over here! Stand right beside me!" He smiles and points up to the tree limb that stands even with his forearm. Cinco moves around the trunk, stops, and stands beside his brother while staring at the tree limb. Breck jabs his finger at the tree limb. "That tree limb contains a bite."

Cinco frowns. "A bug! Is the tree contaminated with an array of insects? What type of insects? Are we going to get bitten or chewed on here, Breck?"

He narrows his two eyelids and examines the single tree branch, "Naw. This tree limb has been slightly damaged with a small hatchet. The other low-hanging tree limbs do not possess any cuts or carvings or damage. Look really close at this tree branch! The tree branch has been hacked numerous times and whacked a long, long time ago. I think that is a clue that we are supposed to pursue."

Cinco moves closer then stops examining the tree branch, saying with a stern face. "Yeah, I agree with your perfect eyesight, Breck. That specific old tree branch has been whacked with a small hatchet or damaged on top of the tree bark, but anyone could have done that in the year 1809."

He reaches up and then touches the tree branch at the whacked spot rubbing the unnatural indentation back and forth, saying with a smile. "I don't think so, Cinco. That hack job has been deeply scarred on the tree branch without healing. As if the tree tried to repair and grow back the damaged limb, but it couldn't. The tree branch is also very, very dry like it is about to fall down landing down on the ground in a tree death."

Cinco looks down with a smile and kicks the numerous exposed tree roots. "Do you see too? The dirt ground does hold and contains a hidden treasure box. That would be the only message from a dead limb, on an ancient tree, that was hacked in the year 1809 for us finding the stolen box of gold treasure."

He shakes his bone skull, "Naw, I disagree, Cinco. We are much closer to the tree. And the tree's root system is much thicker and wider here near the tree trunk. No. This particular tree branch is the real clue. What do you do with a tree branch?"

Cinco nods. "Hmm! You swing back and forth for fun on a tree limb with both your arms. You tie a rubber tire wheel onto a tree branch for swinging off and on for fun as a little kid. You climb the tree branch to reach the top leaves for fun too. Is that the clue? We need to climb the tree and find something on top of its tall branches. That's a crazy idea..."

"... and an extremely dangerous one too. This tall tree is eighty feet in height."

Cinco smiles. "What type of tree is this?"

"A tree," Breck laughs.

Cinco looks down at the tiny screen on his phone punching the keyboard for new information. "The tall tree is eighty feet in height which is too high for climbing to the top for something old and ancient. The tree bark is very broken, dark grey to black bark. The leaves are two inches in length. There are red big berries and some black big berries. The berry is bigger than a blueberry and a raspberry. So, this is a berry tree."

He laughs. "This is black cherry fruit berry wild tree."

Cinco views the tree. "What does this all mean?

He laughs again and points at the tree. "This is black cherry wild tree. The tree is the entire clue here that leads to the gold treasure chest."

Cinco frowns, "I'm clueless. What is the fucking message here? What the fuck does that mean?"

He smiles, "What is the purpose of black cherry tree?"

Cinco smiles. "Cherries are good to eat in a food entree and an alcoholic beverage. Cherries are cooked in dessert. Are we supposed to make a cherry pie?"

"No. That was a female's job back then. This is a Civil War solider who hid the gold and didn't want anyone to find it, but his kinfolks. So, a Civil War solder would do something like with the tree like a man or a male or a young teen, like one of us."

Cinco nods with a smile. "George Washington did not lie. The first president of the United States, George Washington chopped down the family's cherry tree on his family property. Then George told his father the truth. That's it! This is the truth to tell or do here. We are to chop down the cherry tree."

He frowns. "Wow! Do not touch that tree branch, Cinco!"

Cinco frowns. "Why not? We followed the numbers, which are really a longitude and latitude directional intersection marker. We are standing here in front of an ancient tree that lived in the year 1861. And it is a living cherry tree. There are no other clues. So, we are to chop down the cherry tree."

"Or maybe, we cut off the dead tree limb, only." He smiles and slowly back steps from the tree and Cinco, squatting down grabbing the tool. He stands upright and slowly advances back to the low-lying dead tree branch, holding an axe even with the limb and says with a smile. "Look. I'm only going to whack off the rest of the dried tree limb, where the original whack job had been committed by a stupid fool using a small hand-held hatchet. There is something in there for us to see, so we can continue the trek to the Rebel Gold."

Cinco smiles. "I thought you didn't believe in the Rebel Gold."

"I didn't believe in the Rebel Gold, until you find the hand-carved math numbers inside that opened door frame that led us here. Now, we stand in front of an ancient cherry tree duplicating the tale of a younger George Washington. Stand back! I gotta whack it good," he whips his arm sideways. Cinco smiles and back steps from the axe out of danger. Breck bends both of his kneecaps and holds his breathe flying the tip down at the exact spot on the ancient whack job. The sharp tip flows through the dry tree limb with ease and cuts off the tree limb. The tree limb tumbles down to the ground.

Breck swings the axe away from the old tree limb and slams it down in the dirt for safety dashing ahead with Cinco and then stops, squatting down and stares at the dried tree limb. He studies the tree limb. "Well, I don't see anything on top of the dried tree limb but ugly and dry bark that looks like gray cereal flaks. So, this is a waste of time. I bet another McCory family member found the clues way before us, Cinco. There's nothing down there."

Cinco stands upright from the tree roots and jabs his finger at the sliced tree limb which is still attached to the tree bark, "Because, the message is up here. Something is here. Look at this, Breck! There is a hollow hole in the middle of that dead dried tree branch that didn't drop down to the ground and it shows something that is not part of the tree limb or leaves or bark."

He slowly stands upright from the ground and says with a puzzled brow. "How...how did old ancient McCory do that?"

Cinco nods with a smile, "I bet it's an old Indian trick. Old Man McCory beat a tiny open hole on top of the healthy tree limb. The weather elements slowly killed the tree branch and then separated the dead limb from the healthy tree. Old Man McCory stuffed something down into the open hole on the dead tree branch. Now, I'm staring into a very small hole that must have been drilled down into this part of the tree branch bark and used to capture his message."

He reaches out and wiggles his digits in the air slowly moving ahead towards the tree limb. "You know, that hole is hollow, where two of my fingers can fit inside and grab that mystery item."

Cinco yells in fear and flings both of his arms in the air protecting his brother. "Don't! There must be a snake or a poisonous spider in there. I can't get you to the emergency room in time, if the creature carries poison."

He stops and nods. "Good point!"

Cinco back steps then leans down, grabbing the item, twirling in the air near his smile, "But I can scrape that something out from the hollow hole with the sharp tip of my screwdriver without touching the object or the internal parts of the tree wood."

He holds his breathe with worry. "That's good point! Be careful, Cinco!" Breck exhales the sour air feeling both worry and excitement.

Cinco stops in front of the open hole and sticks the sharp end on the screwdriver into the semi-dark opening. "I've touched something solid, not mushy, like a coiled snake or a big spider. And a critter has not emerged from the dark hole either. I am slowly scraping and scratching the object with the end of the screwdriver moving it towards the light. I almost got it, almost got it. Got it!"

The object scoots towards the end of the hole and falls downwards through the air from Earth's gravity landing down on top of Cinco's boot toe. Cinco jumps back with alarm as he does not know what the object really is. He stands beside Breck and stares down a piece of light-tinted wood exhaling with laughter. "O! It's a piece of dead wood. Okay. This is okay. I was scared for a moment."

Breck exhales with relieve too. "I was scared with me and you, too, Cinco. Don't touch it! Okay! Let's examine it with our eyeballs first. Sometimes, an old and ancient tree is so old that the internal bark carries a toxin or a poison that is harmful to human skin and flesh. I don't want you or me to get sick or die over a piece of dead wood. Mama would be very unhappy."

"I would be very unhappy too. I hear that right," Cinco squats down and stares at the piece of wood.

"The wood is lighted colored with edges of black tinted rot, where the water had seeped through the tree bark and stained the object."

Cinco says. "Okay. This is a piece of narrow wood and very short. The wood has been sawed off around each side and on the bottom and the top too. The wood is nicely cut into a perfect rectangular shape."

He hisses with a sour frown. "How is that possible in the year 1861? A man or a soldier or a worker didn't possess an electric or battery-charged chainsaw."

Cinco nods, "Because, the larger cotton plantation possessed a lumber mill. There were big machines that run on the power of running fresh water and would slice off the both sides and trim a piece of round tree branch into a perfect piece of rectangular wood or stave. That stave wood was used to build our house and every single house here in Lacy Springs, before the Industrial Revolution and during the pre-antebellum times."

"Did you read that somewhere too? I remembered reading the same information from my American History textbook in the eleventh grade."

Cinco smiles, "Yeah, there's a great big Bible that holds lots of yellow tinted papers. Each piece of paper is handwritten by our great-great-great grandparents and talks about the life on a cow and cotton plantation."

"So, what do you think about the piece of stave wood?"

"I believe this is a real clue to the treasure of gold." Cinco leans down and stares at the piece of wood. "Okay. I think this is okay to pick up."

"No! Don't touch it yet! Is there a readable wordy message on it too?"

Cinco squints his two eyelids and reads out loud, "Yeah, an English word is burnt into the smooth wood. Wow! The word is: follow. The word is in small letters."

"Follow, what does that mean?"

Cinco reaches down towards the piece of rotten wood. "There must be more English words on the other side."

Breck gasps in alarm. "No! Don't touch the rotten wood, Cinco!"

"I'm not. I'm going to flip it over with the screwdriver tip." Cinco reaches down and digs the tip of the screwdriver down in the dirt wiggling underneath the short wooden stave, flipping the screwdriver up and in the air. The short stave quickly flips over and then lands on top of the hard ground. He laughs, "Tracks. The English word has been burned with the tip from a hot poker stick down into the short piece of stave wood. The word is: tracks. The word is printed in little letters also."

He exhales with confusion. "What tracks? Does it mean a hiking trail for deer or animal tracks? Follow the tracks! Follow a trail! Follow tracks!"

Cinco laughs out loud, "I'm clueless too. There must be an old and ancient hiking trail that we must follow for the next clue. Stand up and scout around each flower pod and every fruit bush plant. Do you see an ancient hiking trail around here?" He stands upright from the ground and slowly moves around the ground, looking down at the dirt, then looking up in the distance.

"Okay!" Breck stands upright from the ground and spins away from Cinco moving ahead, looking down at the grass and then looks up in the distance using his hunter's eyeballs for an old hunting trail. "O! We are to follow a set of animal tracks. Well, there are lots of deer running around here, grazing on the grass. So, we follow a dirt track of deer toe prints. A herd of deer does not sleep much at night. They sleep and stay hidden guarding their body against a predator. Usually, during the day, the herd of deer is out grazing the plants and grass inside an open clearing. But they dwell for comfort and protection within the forest during the nighttime. Did Old Man McCory bury the treasure chest near a herd of deer? If so, we'll never find it in here." He continues to search the dirt for an animal track and moves into the plot of tall weeds and grass. "Or maybe, we are to follow a coyote track print. A pack of coyotes do live and hide inside a den which usually holds multiple entrances to conceal their activity. A group of coyotes live a pack with an alpha male and female and their offspring."

Cinco continues to slowly move ahead and surveys the ground soil. "A pack of coyotes also establish a home range where they live in a specific territory of land that they will defend with claws, blood, and fangs. The home range is marked with urine like a damn dog. However, a home range of coyotes does not go outside their marked landscape but hunts around that area. I don't think Old Man McCory was a dumbass and dumb enough to plant his treasure chest inside coyote den," he laughs. "Anyways, a coyote is a clever animal that adapts easier to the ever-hanging American landscape along with the population growth of humans. Each mammal is member of the dog family. They hunt for food and can swim through the deep pond water approaching their new prey, a garbage can of spoiled food items," he laughs again.

He continues to scan the grass. "I agree with all of these statements. So, we are to follow the animal track from a wild pack of jack rabbits. A jack rabbit lives down a hole, not inside a den. Old Man McCory must have found an abandoned jack rabbit hole and then dumped his treasure chest down there for safe keeping, until one of his smarter blood-relatives found it. Have you seen a set of jack rabbits hopping around here, Cinco?"

Cinco looks up with a smile and dashes ahead colliding at the back spine on Breck, laughing out loud. He back steps with a chuckle tossing both of his arms in the air. "Wait! Wait! We're not looking for a set of animal tracks," he points both hands down at the ground. "This entire plot of grasslands used to be a train depot, where a train engine and a railroad car were stored."

Breck spins around with a gasp. "You're fibbing."

Cinco nods with a smile. "No, I'm not. Back then, in the year 1819, the cotton plantation was very prosperous and would dump each tied up cotton bale here at the train depot. Then the train engine and the single railroad car would travel up towards the small town of Huntsville. The rail tracks were built and paid by Old Man McCory for that special purpose only. This train wasn't a luxury train, only a working train. It was a single open railroad compartment with four sides of wooden planks. A team of twelve mules pulled and hauled pallets of cotton bales here to a real train depot. Old Man McCory was a smart man. The train engine steered up and down the tracks by the other farms attaching a second, third, and other railcars with bales of tied up cotton also. Then the train engine with the numerous railcars steered and stopped at the Tennessee River, where the railcars were connected to a river boat that steered down the river to one of the merchandise warehouses."

He turns and scans the landscape. "So, the mysterious wooden stave word phase, follow the tracks, is really follow the railroad tracks. I don't see any railroad tracks. How do you know that, Cinco?"

Cinco looks up and scans the landscape, waving his arm at the grass, saying with a smile. "Unlike you, I enjoy reading the family history of the McCory clan. This entire arena used to be a cotton gin for ginning the raw cotton bolls and sawing logs at a working lumber mill. Both became an abandoned venture during and after the Civil War event. All the land slaves ran away from the plantation with their newfound freedom. There wasn't anyone here to work the cotton gin or the lumber mill. I read the lumber mill was dismantled and the wood burned for heat in the winter time. So, the entire landscape just grew up into weeds and woods. It was after the Civil War, the McCory family had mysterious gotten some real gold money from somewhere. Then, they used their money fund to restore all the grounds or at least, cut away all the weeds and woods. That's how they maintained the old family cemetery and this lovely flower garden in the middle of nowhere."

He stomps the grass and some of the wildflowers. "So, this floral spot of pretty wildflowers used to be the sight of a cotton gin and a lumber mill. So, this is how Old Man McCory created the piece of stave wood with the old lumber mill equipment, that was rusty. Then he burned the two English words, follow tracks, with a poker of hot fire into a nice piece of wood. Then he placed the piece of wood inside the hollow part of the tree. How did he do that?"

Cinco nods. "Old Man McCory chopped off the end of the healthy green tree limb and then burrowed through the tree meat into the middle cutting out a hole. He probably used the black smith equipment and literally burnt a hollow space through the healthy low-hanging tree limb. Then he used a set of strong twigs shoving the single piece of wood through the burnt and hollow space, where it has rested for over two hundred years."

"Wow!"

Cinco nods, "All right! We have not located or found an old hiking trial or an old hunting trail, because we are hunting for a set of railroad tracks. Most likely, a pack of animals did not live or thrive around here with all the loud sounds for the lumber mill equipment and the numerous slaves that had lived and worked here. So, we are not looking for a hunting trail for food or a hiking trail for fun. Follow tracks!" He squats down on the solid ground and draws in the dirt. "Look at my cool drawing here in the dirt. Here is the main house in the south. Here is the rough pathway towards the cemetery in the west. Here is the tall tree with the piece of engraved wood, where a lumber mill and cotton gin used to stand. So, we are hunting for a set of ancient railroad tracks. The parallel lines on the train track will lead towards an eastern direction. That makes sense too. The real true set of railroad tracks runs north toward south that totes lumber, cotton bales, people and other cargo to the northern cities before and after the Civil War, including today. Our house faces due south. The family cemetery faces due west. This flower garden faces due north. So, the lumber mill must have faced east, where the side of building would dump the cargo into the open compartment on top of the train track. So, the set of short train tracks are located east from this ancient cherry tree and runs easterly towards the real set of railroad tracks." He stands upright from the grass and moves ahead in an easterly direction over the ground. "This is getting real and really fun now. We're getting close, Breck. We'll be the first two teen billionaires of the world."

Breck stands upright from the grass with laughs and then pads beside Cinco. "I think someone has already beaten us to that grand title."

Cinco looks down at the ground and smiles. "And I don't care. We'll become rich and famous too, after finding the missing Confederate gold."

He continues to move beside his brother Cinco and looks down at the ground. "I don't wanna be famous, only rich. Here is it! This is the spot." He stops and stomps down on a dark colored railroad wooden tie. "A set of embedded old railroad tracks have sunken down into the hard ground from years of cold soggy winters and days of hot heated sunlight. And it has been covered with thousands of plant vines and flower plants. If it wasn't for that old map, I would have never thought a set of old railroad tracks lived here."

Cinco nods and moves on top of the embedded railroad tracks. "Now, follow the tracks! The track leads us directly to the hole in the ground, where the buried box of gold is located. We will be on the six o'clock news station tonight."

He exhales with a smile. "I wonder how Flamingo is doing. What do you think?"

Cinco continues to kick each weed from the ground and follows a path of old rotten wooden railroad ties. "I think Flamingo is too overly ambitious for a teen of seventeen years old. He is smart like us. We are all smart. Flamingo seems to need to prove his existence on the planet. Is that a middle child syndrome or something bad?"

He continues to kick away the tall weeds and piles of low flowering vines staring down at the embedded railroad ties also. "I'm not going to become the family medical physician. You gotta ask Flamingo that question."

Cinco says with a sour frown. "Flamingo needs to relax and live for the moment smelling the roses. Once we graduate college, our teen years are over and gone. Then we become an adult with a set of adult responsibilities, at the age of young adult."

"You sound bitter, bro."

"I'm not bitter. I'm fully aware or alert or alive or awake. Babbie only talks about college and then after college getting married to me. Then, after we get married, we have a baby. Geez! I'm only a high school senior student now. I still only seventeen years old. I'm still a teen. When in the college classroom and the locker room, I'll be only eighteen years old. I'm still a teen."

"Babbie sees only the future."

Cinco frowns. "Well, I like to look at the future, but not live in the future yet. I wanna still live now and have some fun while a teen, not an adult yet. All the business lessons coming from Horace and Mama make my stomach turn into a flock of fluttering butterflies and a vine of raw sour grapes. I know we'll move back here and start our adult life, but I'll only be twenty-four years old. Twenty-four years old, that's still young and energetic for a young adult male."

Breck frowns. "Are you chunking the married life, before you even get married to Babbie, Cinco?"

Cinco says and continues to scan the weeds. "No. I love my girl Babbie. We think alike. We think so much alike that we don't have to talk out loud. But I want some time to enjoy life, before having an infant newborn baby. An infant newborn baby is a one big responsibility and bigger headache. I want some time to get comfortable with my duties of a married man and an animal veterinarian here at the cow ranch."

"Well, if you graduate from Burn U college at the age of twenty-one years old, then you go into Bam U veterinarian school for three years, then you will be twenty-four years old, when you graduate. A young and energetic male is still single and not married."

"I know that. I've been trying to tell all my ideas and feeling to Babbie."

"O no! She must object."

Cinco exhales. "She gets mad. She thinks that I didn't love her. But I do love her. I'm going to marry her. What do you think I should do, Breck?"

He shakes his bone and continues to scan the weeds, "I really can't offer much girlfriend love and social marriage advice. I don't possess a steady girl right now. I don't even have a date for tonight."

Cinco frowns. "What are you going to do this evening?"

He yawns then grins. "I guess I'll stay home and watch an old or new movie on the paid television station."

"I would invite you to hang with me and Babbie, but she's not good company right now."

He laughs. "I would think your girl would wanna please her man during the football game season. We're winning all our games. And we'll go to the playoffs."

"Yeah, she knows that. She also predicts that we will go the first playoff but not the second one."

He smiles, "Well, Babbie must be a fortune teller. I think we should ask her where the gold is buried."

Cinco laughs. "Yeah, she might even know that. I don't know if she is right or not about the playoff game, which isn't even here yet. But it does seem that we do win all our seasonal games, but we can't get passed the first playoff game."

He frowns. "And how important is the first or the last playoff game when it is compared to curing cancer in a child or saving a mare from death or even saving your precious mother's life?"

Cinco exhales. "Yeah, you're right, Breck. Lately, we, three have confronted some serious shit that really pales in comparison to a silly football game. I understand a little more about the psyche of Babbie now. She didn't know about all the shit that went down with us and Mama, but she can read my emotions like a written book."

"Now, I do believe that you and she have something to share this evening."

Cinco smiles. "You're an old soul, Breck. How did you become so wise?"

He slaps his chest with a smile. "I'm the first-born Nature Boy and the protector of our mama including my two younger brothers. And I'm the sign of a ram. Aries is my middle name," Breck laughs.

Cinco sneers, "Damn! Do you really believe in that silly twinkle, twinkle little star shit?"

"Naw! But it's real great fun to tease and taunt Flamingo with that shitty twinkle, twinkle little star shit, thou. But, sometimes, things do work out the way that Flamingo predicts. He and his girl Violet are a very good example of colliding lovers that were destined from the beginning of time."

Cinco nods. "Well, I admit to you, not Flamingo. Violet and Flamingo are made for each other."

Breck stops with a gasp and stares at the new object saying with a smile. "Now, what in the fuck is that over there?" At the end of the hidden railroad tracks underneath piles of ground vines, low plants, there is an object that is buried in the ground between the tall weeds.

Cinco stops and stands beside Breck smiling down at the new object. "I do believe that is an old-fashioned belly stove, where cooked food was made for our dead ancestors, in the year 1809 or later, until the invention of the electric stove top and oven."

"Okay. We're definitely on the real track," he laughs.

Cinco frowns. "Bad pun! Bad pun!"

He reaches out and then wiggles his fingers without touching the grounded object. "Should I touch it? No. I think you should open the door and see what's inside."

Cinco slaps his chest with a smile, "Naw. I did it last time. You go ahead and open the door and see what's inside, Breck."

"Could a nest of snakes live inside that thing?"

Cinco laughs, "Yeah and yeah."

Breck exhales, "All right! I'll take care of it," he leans back and slams his boot heel into the semi-parted, steel-coated oven door. The steel door wiggles side to side and then falls down landing on top of the grass. He laughs. "There! I did it."

Cinco frowns. "Damn, Breck! That was easy. I could've done that."

"Damn! It was easy. Then, you should've done that," he laughs.

Cinco squats down and stares at the grounded oven door. "Well, I do see something on the inside of the oven door."

"Yeah, I see it, too. Pick it up! I think it's safe. A piece of metal can't sting your hands like a piece of wood."

Cinco exhales. "Okay. I agree," he leans over and touches the metal. "It's cold, not heated." He grabs the metal and holds it in the air for both pair of eyeballs. "A piece of thin steel has detached and slid down into the grass from the fallen oven door. What is the purpose of that? And this square shaped piece of thin steel has been hammered with a short message. This is it. This is another piece of the clue from Old Man McCory."

"What does it read?"

"I can't read the words or the letters. The message was hammered down into the smooth brass metal plate creating a set of tiny indentations in the thin steel in the year 1861. I didn't live during that American time period. So, I don't know what the hammered message says." Cinco laughs.

"I do." Breck laughs and squats down scooping up a handful of dirt, leaning over and spreads the dirt particles carefully over each tiny indentation. Each word slowly appears in the red hue and forms a sentence.

Cinco squats down beside his brother and laughs out loud staring down at the words. "Whoa! That's a neat trick, dude! Where did you learn to do that?"

He smiles. "One of the ancient television programs, where a man spreads a handful of white flour over the set of wet glue or some other nonsense over an indented message and then reads the items. But it worked for the actor and it worked for me."

Cinco grins. "Yeah, it worked perfectly. The dirt-covered message on the ground reads: What did Abe Lincoln and your grandfather do?" He frowns. "This adventure gold hunting trip is getting weird."

He laughs. "Old Man McCory was really smart."

Cinco frowns. "Or he was really bored out of his fucking mind. What did Lincoln and your grandfather do? Lincoln was the President of the United States. Our grandfather was not. Lincoln was poor. Our grandfather was not. Lincoln died by assassination. Our grandfather did not. I don't see any common factors."

He smiles. "There is one common factor. Lincoln was tall. Our grandfather was tall. So, a tall person as opposed to a short person can reach the top cabinets in the kitchen or the tall tree line in the sky, if that is a reference to something."

"So, we are to look up into the skyline," Cinco looks up and shades his eyelids from the dull sunlight saying with a frown. "I don't see anything in the skyline that could reference a tall person for the next clue."

He studies the grass. "And there is nothing else surrounding the ancient pot belly stove. This is an open field of colorful wildflowers and tall yellow and green weeds. What lives out here with the bees and the bugs and the birds and the snakes? Nothing!"

Cinco points down toward the ground. "Sometimes, a herd of beef cows are turned out here and mow down the pasture lands for us."

"I can't believe that you or Horace didn't find this old pot belly stove down here in the middle of the grassy meadow."

Cinco points towards the western landscape and says with a smile. "The grassy meadow pasture is really over there, which is outlined by a sturdy fence post, where the cows can't escape. There ain't no reason for me or a cow to come out this far. Anyways, this area is too close to the family cemetery. The cows are afraid of the invisible he-ghosts," he laughs.

"O! That makes perfect sense. That's why no one comes out this far. Our bro Flamingo is scared shitless of the fluttering flock of she-ghosts too." Breck laughs. "I don't understand this. Why is there an old pot belly stove stuck here in the middle of the meadow?"

Cinco slowly stands and closes his eyelids. "I am remembering. There used to be a small shack here, probably the sawmill supervisor," he opens his eyelids and looks down at the embedded ancient railroad tracks. "And this is where the set of ancient train tracks actually left the McCory land property and then glided down the other ancient tracks traveling through the other farms and then finally towards the Tennessee River. Back then, the products of lumber staves and cotton bales were loaded and hauled down over the fresh water river towards the bustling city of Huntsville and then all the stuff was loaded into a train at the train station up there, not down here. I would guess that Old Man McCory removed the pot belly stove from the small house, before it was destroyed and then sliced off the four short legs leaving it here to rot and dead. The old stove is embedded down in the dirt. I don't think it has been touched, since the year 1861. Steel is a hard metal that only rusts, not disintegrates."

He frowns. "Now, what do we do? I'm clueless with the pot belly stove and the hammered message on a steel plate. What did Lincoln and your grandfather do?"

Cinco nods. "Look up President Abraham Lincoln on the internet. President Lincoln is the key here, not our late and great Grandfather McCory."

He whips out his mobile telephone reading the tiny screen. "Lincoln was the president."

"Everyone in the world knows that, Brick Brain."

He laughs. "Lincoln was a self-educated kid. He enjoyed reading, writing, ciphering, instead of doing his farm work chores. He was considered a lazy asshole but tall and athletic. The rest of the electronic article is about his past and his presidency. What does that have to do with our Grandfather McCory?"

Cinco nods. "Okay. Old Man McCory hammered out this tin can message around the year 1861 or later in year 1865, right before the end of the Civil War. Else, someone could have found his stolen golden bars. Now, he was an educated man. I had read that somewhere inside that great big, ancient Bible manual with set of hand-written notes by his wife, Old Lady McCory. So, his biological grandfather was rich and considered an educated man, unlike Lincoln. That does make sense, but it doesn't solve the clue."

He nods, "Now, back to the present, if we apply the same principle to our own Grandfather McCory. He was educated in school, unlike Lincoln, who did not go to school."

He frowns. "Why do you say that?"

"Lincoln was a self-educated man. You read that fact in the American history book. He learned to read by studying the Bible. He didn't go to school. He was born in the year 1809. That's the same year that the McCory family started the town of Lacy Springs. Is that the clue?"

"I don't hear or see a clue from that."

He gasps in delight. "Wait! We're a pair of vain and selfish teens thinking that each clue is only for one of the McCory kinfolks. Wonder if the family had sold the McCory farm, then another non-McCory family member would possess all the proper McCory land. And then another non-McCory family would be trying to figure out the same clue."

Cinco frowns. "What does that mean? I don't understand."

"We're thinking about our Grandfather McCory. When he is compared to Lincoln, he was the opposite. He was rich, handsome, educated, living in a manor, not a log cabin. His relatives lived and prospered, not died off. He was not lazy and did work his farm chores."

Cinco frowns. "Okay. Then how do we interpret the message?"

He nods. "The dirt message is written out in neat block letters: What did Abe Lincoln and your grandfather do? Here, within the tiny cow town of Lacy Springs, lots of people do not have a formal education of college, but they did attend the local the high school, receiving a high school diploma. However, if you were to substitute Yancy's grandfather, instead of ours, then you found this. Yancy's grandfather went to school but he quit at the age of twelve, going to work, helping feed his family. And I've heard that old story over and over and over, again, coming from Yancy that his grandfather walked to the local elementary school building for his formal education as a young child. There wasn't a free ride on a public elementary school bus or a family car transportation back then either."

Cinco laughs and claps with amusement. "His grandfather walked to the school building."

"Yeah. Don't you see it now! That's the common factor of Abe and your grandfather. They were poor folks and had to walk to school. Or they became self-educated or taught a skill to make a living. That's the common factor."

Cinco smiles, "They walked to school. They walked to school. We are to walk to the school. Where is this old and ancient high school here in Lacy Springs located? I don't know that."

Breck nods. "I do know that piece of ancient knowledge. The old high school was started inside the old church. The old church was torn down to build the new school. So, the old school is the same spot, where our new high school is located now."

"The high school is located north of here. So, we start walking north."

Breck stares with a frown at miles of high and short weeds and grass, "For how long, do we walk over a long pasture of grassy and weedy meadows?"

Cinco reaches over and slaps the bicep on Breck chuckling with delight, spinning around to face the cherry tree, the cemetery walls, and the terrain vehicle. "We don't walk. We ride Turdie," he quickly races ahead back towards the terrain vehicle first.

Breck gasps in shock and then spins around with a smile racing after Cinco while shouting out loud. "Wait for me, Cinco!" He stops and picks up the large axe, placing over his collar bone, slowly moving back to the terrain vehicle.

Cinco sits in the driver's seat eating food, drinking the cold beverage.

Breck stores the large axe in a safe place inside the trunk and scoots around the rear bumper, sliding down into the passenger seat, grabbing food items also.

Cinco slowly performs a putt-putt maneuver with the terrain vehicle through miles of tall yellow weeds and short green grass as each brother eats and scans the landscape for the new clue of something that will pinpoint the hidden treasure chest of Old Man McCory from the year 1864.

Three miles from the tall cherry tree, Cinco continues to steer the vehicle and scans the landscape while eating more of the food items in silence with an occasional burp.

In the passenger seat, Breck swallows the food and points at the landscape. "Do you think we'll make the playoffs this year?"

Cinco sips and then swallows the cold water burping out loud, "Of course, me and Acton are the two superstar defensive linemen that will do the job and get us into the playoffs."

"What about the other football players?"

"They'll get credit too."

Breck laughs. "You're so kind to your fellow teens, Cinco. I don't see anything that looks like a clue here, man."

Cinco continues to slowly perform a putt-putt through the weeds. "Well, we've traveled three miles from the cherry tree and a little more from the cemetery. I can smell the forest. My nose holes smell honeysuckle vines, pine trees, evergreen trees, cedar trees, jasmine flowers. What do you smell, dude?"

He continues to scan the landscape, "Fresh, sharp, clean, woody, minty, sweet, tangy odors from the lush, thick forest woodlands."

"Wow! Your nose holes must be superior to mine. But, that's impossible, ain't it? As we, three are triplet brothers," Cinco laughs.

"And I see wild patches of strawberry plants. Do you wanna stop for food?"

Cinco laughs., "Naw! My stomach is full. But my mind is empty."

"Stop, Cinco!" Breck scans the landscape with confusion.

At 02:02 pm, in the middle of the clearing near a row of bush plants, Cinco halts the terrain vehicle. "What! What do you see?"

"Well, we're venturing down a pathway of weeds and grass on a hot day in the month of October," Breck wipes off the sweat from his forearms and his eye brows then points ahead at the forest woodlands. "One side of the rough pathway reveals a range of tall and tan colored rock boulders. Is that part of Brindlee Mountain Range?"

Cinco turns and nods to the rock boulders. "Yeah, the rocks are part of Brindlee Mountain Range that kinda surrounds the western, northern, and part of the eastern side within Lacy Springs. Our farm property line is there that keeps people from entering onto our land from the west. But we own the farm property over the boulders too. What do you see?"

"What do you not see?"

Cinco turns and sneers at the rear skull on Breck. "Don't start that crap again! What do you see, Breck?"

Breck points to the clearing and the side landscape on the pathway. "I see miles and miles of open clearing with tall yellow weeds, short green grass, patches of strawberries, rows of thick blue and black berry bushes that on the opposite side but no rock boulders."

His eyeballs dart to the woodlands and as Cinco frowns. "Yeah, I recognized the thick rows of raspberry, black, and blueberry fruit bushes too, where wild animals live here and eat the fruit. Do you wanna get some blue berries for our supper meal tonight? What are we having for supper tonight, Breck?"

He presses both of his hands down his white shirt saying with worry. "Blueberry fruit juice is one of the hardest stains to remove from your clothes. I do believe that there is something weird about that opening which is surrounded by rows of bushes. Let's go and check it out! I think it might be the spot of the next clue."

Cinco kills the engine and then slides out from the driver's seat scooting around the front bumper on the terrain vehicle, pulling up beside Breck and laughs out loud, "Naw. You use a large pitcher of boiling hot water and a bowl of vinegar removing blueberry fruit juice stains from your precious clothes. However, there is one stain that does not absolutely come out of clothes. Do you know what that yuck-o stain is, Breck?"

They move ahead towards the open hole which has been mysterious been constructed between the rows of blue and blackberry bushes.

Breck smiles and scans the rows of bushes, "Blood stains.

Cinco laughs, "Naw. A blood stain is a protein stain. So, rinse in cold water, dish soap and ammonia, that removes a blood protein stain. I thought you made the letter grade of A in your high school science classes."

He scans the landscape. "Wine stains."

"A wine stain comes out with an enzyme-based stain remover."

"Dirt stains."

Cinco smiles, "Naw, a dirt stain comes out with warm water, dish soap, and white vinegar."

He frowns. "Grass stains."

"Naw, a grass stain comes out with an enzyme-based remover and a toothbrush, preferable clean."

He laughs. "Grease stains."

"Naw, a grease stain comes out with an aerosol stain remover and hot water."

He frowns. "Ketchup stains."

Cinco laughs. "Naw, pre-treat a ketchup stain with stain remover and then wash in detergent and bleach. Try it again, Breck!"

He frowns. "I know. I know. I got this. An oil stain is the hardest stain to remove from your clothes. A lipstick stain ruins my clothes, which I get from the wet lips of a girl, sometimes."

Cinco chuckles. "Naw, a lipstick stain comes out by rubbing stain remover over the colorful fruity stain and then scrub out the mess from your tee shirt, in which, the paid house staff does all the time for you, Breck Brian."

He frowns. "What artificial stain have I missed? I mentioned blood, dirt, grease, ketchup, lipstick stains. O! I know it now, a sugar stain."

Cinco laughs. "Naw, a sugar stain is hard to see on the carpet until a set of hard, caramelized sugar grains turns into a pale brown stain. Use soap and water and scrub it out! Try again, Breck!"

Breck gasps in shock. "Which food or artificial stain have I forgotten? I know. I got it. A grape juice stain, that one never comes out of fabric strands."

"Naw, a grape juice stain is removed by using vinegar and rubbing alcohol before laundering the clothing item," Cinco laughs. "Give it up, Breck!"

"No! Never! Not me ever!" He gasps in shock again and scans the landscape with rows of fruit bushes for an animal or a snake. "I am missing something. What else do I like to eat or drink?" He snaps his fingers with a nod, "I know. I know. I got this one, a cup of hot chocolate."

"You are wrong, again, bro," Cinco laughs.

"What!"

Cinco nods. "A hot chocolate stain is one of the worse stains because it contains numerous factors of natural and artificial ingredients. A cup of hot chocolate contains fat, sugar, brown dye, and protein. You must pre-treat for each staining ingredient. The protein component is soaked in cold water first. A sugar portion is washed in soap and water. A fat stain is removed by soaking in cold water first and then warm water second and using an orange peel. To remove a tannins stain, which is the artificial food dye product, such like, brown dye in hot chocolate; red dye in sugary drink, black food dye in sweet tea, use hydrogen peroxide on the stained garment."

Breck nods with a smile. "Well, I'm impressed, Cinco. Where did you learn all that fantastic laundry information? We can apply it to our laundry needs also."

"Yeah, I thought of that also, since you and me are practicing and playing on the football team. And we don't have a house staff of employees to baby our asses." He nods with a smile. "Babbie has been educating me. She's going to be staying and sharing a rented apartment house, like us, during her college days with two other bitch-females. Her mama taught or wrote down all the laundry rules to help keep Babbie's personal clothing clean and un-smelly. You know bitch-females, they'll start a cat fight over a piece of dry toast," he laughs with Breck.

"Who else is rooming with Babbie inside her apartment house?"

Cinco exhales. "So far, one bitch-girl is Babbie's female cousin, who is graduating from a high school in Birmingham. The other female-bitch has not been identified or named. Babbie has been interviewing other high school girls, but she has rejected them all. She wants a quiet but responsible college female, who will do her share of the cooking, cleaning, and paying the rental apartment house. Else, Babbie's parents will be stuck with the money bill."

Breck nods. "Babbie can ask Violet. Violet is going to Burn U also. And you can help out there with the money issue."

"Yes, I can, and I want. However, Babbie will not let me or her parents discuss that sensitive topic with Violet. Violet has been asked to stay and share the rental apartment. However, she is living in one of the dorm rooms. Honestly, I really didn't see Violet finishing college with a college degree."

He frowns. "Why not! She makes a set of good grades."

"Violet works too hard to maintain a set of decent grades.

He laughs. "You didn't make a set of good or decent grades. You should not judge, man."

Cinco nods. "However, I have never studied in my life as I only wanted to become a farmer. Now, I'm starting to study all my textbooks in order to become a licensed farm animal veterinarian. Once I started studying the textbooks, I started to a set of pretty good grades. College life is fun, but each college course is hard. I don't know about Violet. I am kinda worried for Flamingo. He is pressing on with graduating early and getting accepted into the School of Medicine at Bam U. I don't know if Violet will wanna wait around for five or six more years for Flamingo."

"That's a harsh, non-loving statement at Violet coming from you, Cinco."

Cinco exhales. "I know. However, Flamingo is a closed-minded teenage and is determined to stay on the medical physician pathway. Then he will be still there in a college environment, after graduating from college, attending the Burn U School of Medicine, studying for hours and hours. I just don't know if Violet wants to wait for the long haul, especially if she can't cut the college course work."

"Well, you and I will be moving out of that apartment house leaving Flamingo alone. Then you and I will be attending each one of our post-graduate colleges in the School of Veterinarian Medicine and School of Law over there on the other side of town."

Cinco smiles, "Babbie wants to become a veterinarian also. So, we three can live together in a new apartment house, where my bank account or your bank account can pay for the living arrangement."

"Gladly!" Breck moves ahead and stops in front of the opening. "So, did we finish the stain discussion?"

"Naw, there is one stain that never comes out of clothes or fabric or carpet."

Breck frowns. "Well, I give up. What is the food stain that never comes out from the fabric strands?"

He laughs. "I know. Do you really wanna know?"

Breck nods. "I don't know. Yes, I really wanna know."

He laughs again. "Are you really shore, Breck?"

"Yeah, I'm really shore and totally be-fucked. What is the food stain that never comes out from the set of cloth fabric strands?"

"Baby poop!"

Breck gasps in shock and then frowns. "That is a disgusting answer," he enters through the opening and slowly moves ahead scanning the rows of bushes.

Cinco smiles and follows behind Breck scanning the same rows of bushes. "But it's the true answer, dude. Baby poop is the ultimate stain, because it goes through the baby's digestive system and then comes out through its asshole, literally," he laughs. "The answer is really poop, piss, and puke. But you can treat a poop and piss baby stain with an enzyme-based remover which is used for dogs and cats. Ain't that a hoot!"

"Yeah!" He moves ahead with a sour frown and continues to scan the bushes.

Cinco sniffs and then smiles. "Now, I smell damp earth and old fallen leaves and scattered piles of fresh and fossilized deer dung turds. That means there are roaming herds of live animals near here. We must be careful. Each prickly needle from each conifer tree plus a dangling pine cone produces the piney smell. Pine needle sap produces a darker, heavy scent of bitterness." He continues to scan the ground, the tree branches, and the rows of fruit bushes. "This new atmosphere is a wet, cool earth, when it is compared to the warm, dry earth. Outside this woodland enclosure, I could feel, taste, and smell the dry earth with my nose holes, sniffing the clay soil, the fragranced flowers and the subtle dust particles in the air. In here, I see, taste, and sniff each rotten tree trunk and piles of fallen dried leaves," he stops and kicks over the rock. "Even an overturned rock carries its own fragrance. I smell..."

"Look!" Breck continues to move ahead and then gasps dashing ahead towards the back row of bushes, squatting down and views an object. "I found something among the bushes. It is colored in white and it glows from the dark green leaves," he reaches inside and touches the object. "This is solid object, not a pile of leaves or a snake."

"Snake!" Cinco halts and then back steps with a gasp surveying the ground and the tree limbs with fear.

He wiggles the object from the soil with laughter. "Don't worry! No snakes in here with all the active deer toes. Snakes and deer feet don't mix well with its blood," he laughs also.

Cinco drops both of his arms slapping his blue jean and slowly moves ahead surveying the ground dirt. He stops behind Breck and stares at the new object. "So, what is it? What did you dig out from the soil?"

He pulls out the object and examines the item. "It is white and made of ceramic. It is four inches in height with a smooth finish. And it holds a matching lid in solid white too. This is an ancient sugar bowl, where sugar cubes are stored. The ceramic is dirty and worn from the weather elements, but it is completely intact." Breck stands upright and wipes off more of the dirt. "I think the lid can open," he grunts and slides his hand around the lid. "The lid is tough or stuck or glued or soldered."

"Here, let a real man do it!" Cinco laughs.

"I got it!" He looks down with puzzlement.

"Is there something inside?"

He frowns, "Naw. The interior is white. Wait! There's something white inside the inner guts of the white colored sugar bowl, but it is not a fossilized sugar cube. It is rough feeling and a piece of white linen fabric."

"Pull it out!"

Breck yanks the fabric with a smile and hands the sugar bowl to Cinco. Cinco accepts the sugar bowl and continues to stare down at the linen cloth. Breck smiles, "A piece of white linen with set of blueberry non-juicy fruit stains. We were just talking about food stains. And this piece of ancient white linen is well preserved too."

"Read the note out loud, Breck!"

Breck smiles, "O yeah! The white linen fabric reads: What Native American Indian Princess Pocahontas did not do?"

Cinco stares and frowns at the blueberry stained question on the fabric. "What did Native American Indian Princess Pocahontas not do? She was not single. She got married. She was not a Native American Indian princess anymore. She became a noble wife to a British citizen. She did not save John Smith. He lived here in America with her family and did not die here, but at his estate house in the country of Great Britain. That's all I can recall from my vast memory banks."

He frowns. "What else?"

Cinco frowns. "What else! That's it! There isn't any more of the storyline to tell. What is more to tell, dude?"

He nods with a smile. "Captain John Smith did not die. He lives. And she told her Indian Chief daddy to stuff it. So, John Smith was going to become beheaded by the Native American Indian Chief or one of his Indian brave warriors. And she stopped it. So, we are to behead the low-lying bush, where we found the ancient sugar bowl."

"I guess." Cinco frowns.

He points down at the bush. "Look at the angle of the blueberry bush, where I pulled out the ancient sugar bowl. One side of the bush has grown over an elevated pile of flat rocks, like it was made by man, not beast."

Cinco continues to stand and surveys the row of fruit bushes. "Why are we supposed to chop off the head of the bush?"

"Yes, we do that to find the next clue to the treasure chest."

Cinco frowns, "All right. Okay. Do you possess a bigger thing, Breck?" He laughs.

Breck turns and winks at Cinco, back stepping from the bush, spinning around to exit the enclosure. "Do I possess a bigger thing? Is that your stupid ass question, son? I got the granddaddy of all axes, boy." He dashes out the enclosure and races back to the terrain vehicle.

Cinco continues to stand and surveys the woodland enclosure for animals or snakes or another clue of the treasure chest in silence.

At 03:03 pm, Breck quickly returns to the forest enclosure and holds a portal chainsaw, slowly moving ahead towards the targeted berry bush, laughing out loud. He wears a set of protection gloves, a helmet, and a pair of eye glasses, dropping the large bag down the ground for Cinco.

Cinco back steps from the upcoming event clapping with laughter for his brother. "Yeah, that's my boy! Go for it! Go for it. Get in there! Cut it down!" He quickly dresses in body protection gear from the cloth bag protecting his person from the flying chainsaw's residue of tiny plant limbs and leaves.

Breck stops and then leans down, measuring the distance from the targeted fruit bush, buzzing the chain saw with action. He leans further down and slowly slices through the thick stem on the bush. Then tilted bush head swiftly shoots forward from the soil and flings a set of smashed berries, fresh leaves, and tiny bush limbs in different directions.

Cinco covers his face and laughs out loud feeling the nature objects hit his body. The bush tumbles down from its root stem and rolls forward revealing a new object. "Wow!"

Breck cuts off the portal chainsaw and still wears the protection gear.

Cinco dashes ahead and stops beside Breck. "What is it? Is it a new clue?"

He smiles down at the new object. "Yeah, a decoration in the form of a rusty steel arrow has embedded down into the soil for us. The arrow is pointing due west. This is it. This is the right clue. We're getting closer, Cinco."

Cinco spins around with applause and faces due west pointing at the new environment. "There's an open clearing of yellow weeds, green short grass, and pods of colorful wildflowers, which is located due west of this fruit bush enclosure." He races ahead with a smile and shouts out loud back to his brother. "Hey! I'm going ahead and scouting out the clearing," he rips off each protection gear piece and tosses it in the air as each piece lands down on top of the dry or wet leaves.

"No! Wait on me, Cinco! Hey, Cinco!" Breck squats down and gently drops the portal chainsaw on the ground for safety, swiftly standing upright with a sneer, spinning around to see the clearing and the back spine on Cinco. "Cinco, wait for me!" He races ahead and follows Cinco while tossing off each piece of protection gears that hits the soil also.

Cinco runs away from Breck then trips over a pile of small logs dropping down towards the soil, landing down inside an empty hole. He sits on the dirt and yells out loud to Breck. "Help, Breck! Help! I've fallen down and I can't get up," he continues to sit and laughs out loud inside the dirt hole. "Down here! Come back here and help me down here, Breck!"

Breck stops with a puzzled brow and scans the landscape for Cinco, slowly moving ahead towards a pile of broken logs and then stops. He leans down and views a new open hole in the grass. "Are you injured, Cinco?"

The voice of Cinco yells back at Breck. "No."

"Are you worried, Cinco?"

"No."

"Where are you located at or in or what, Cinco?"

Inside the dirt hole, Cinco slowly stands and surveys the new environment. "Well, I was sitting down inside a hole. Now, I am standing upright inside a hole of dirt which has been neatly cleared by hand that forms a perfect square of four dirt walls, without a ladder or a hand-rail. I think this hole is a bear or moose trap. I can't climb out, without help. A live animal could not escape from here either by jumping in the air and landing up there on the top soil," he reaches out and touches the some of the embedded wood planks that keeps the hole intact saying with a smile. "I think it would be called a wartime fox hole."

"Is there a real live fox down there with you?"

"No, Breck! There's nothing down here, but a big open hole over my hair roots, where I can see your fugly, ugly face and the blinding beams of heated sunlight."

Breck laughs. "My face is handsome like yours. We are triplet brothers."

Inside the dirt hole, Cinco slowly touches each one of wet, soggy, rotten wooden planks that have been crushed into the walls of earth and then stops, sounding with a gasp, yelling out loud. "I found something else down here, Breck."

On top of the ground, Breck frowns. "Okay! All right! You examine the something. I'm going back and get Turdie. I'll use the rope and tie it on the rear bumper of Turdie getting your ass outta of that deep non-war fox hole," he stands upright with a huff and spins around retracing his steps through the clearing, moving back to the terrain vehicle to rescue Cinco.

Inside the dirt hole, Cinco stands in front of one of the wet, soggy wooden planks and outlines each indented symbol with his finger pad shouting back to his brother. "Breck, I found another message down here. The hand-curved words appear on front of this wooden stave really faint and very lighted colored and hard to read with my eyeballs. The letters are sorta missing parts of the curves or points. But the massage reads. "Turn west, young man! Turn west, young man!" He frowns. "I don't think so, Old Man McCory. There's a great big mountain that blocks the sun and my eyesight view." He continues to wipe the dirt particles from the embedded wooden stave. "Most of the letters have been covered by moss and plants and fossilized dirt balls. I'm digging my fingers deeper down into the embedded message. There are some missing words. I feel the letter for the word, Go. Now, I feel there is a space and the next hole contains the letter of...of..." Cinco frowns. "I feel that the next letter is in the shape of an N. What does that mean?"

At 03:33 pm, on top of the ground, Breck slowly steers the terrain vehicle near the hole and then stops without killing the engine. He slides out and works the rope around the rear bumper, holding the rope. He slowly approaches the ground opening and then stops leaning over the opening, shouting down to Cinco. "I'm back with the machine, Cinco. I'm tossing down the rope which is tied to the rear bumper on Turdie down into your fox hole. Grab the rope, bro! Me and my machine will haul your ass up from the big hole and back on top of the soil for free without payment or slavery or regret." He drops the rope down to Cinco and spins around dashing back, sliding down into the driver's seat. He presses the gasoline pedal and slowly steers forward towards the open clearing giving Cinco the machine force needed to climb a wall of dirt and rotten embedded wood planks.

Cinco swings his face and views the dangling rope, back stepping from the embedded message inside the wet wooden plank, spinning around and dashes ahead. He grabs the rope with both cupped hands and swings his body forward jerking his boot sole in the air, shoving a boot print into the hard wall of thick red colored dirt. As the powerful machine steers forward and pulls the rope taunt up in the air, Cinco slowly climbs vertically up the wall of dirt, crawling over the ground soil. He releases the rope then slowly stands upright wearing a grin of happiness, swinging around and points ahead towards the northwest direction. He laughs. "Go northwest, young man! That's the new message from an embedded piece of wood that kisses the dirt wall inside that dirt hole. Northwest direction is that way. Our golden treasure is in that direction. Let's go, Breck!"

"Go northwest, young man!" Breck slides out from the driver's seat and stands upright on top of the grass, facing the northwest horizon, frowning with puzzlement. "Is that really the proper direction here, Cinco? I see a much smaller piece of tan colored rock like a small boulder. So, that must be an entrance into a cave or something. What do you think?"

"I think we need to move out." Cinco dashes to the driver's seat and smiles at the tan colored rock boulder, revving the engine, shouting at Breck. "Cut off the rope. We'll get our gear later. We're losing sunlight here. The sun sinks down at five pm. Get inside, Breck! And that rock is part of the mountain range also."

Breck slides down into the passenger seat and stares at the rock boulder. "Then, there must be a hidden or covered up cavern entrance which is located northwest of the fox hole. Go!"

Cinco presses the gasoline pedal when the vehicle jolts into movement with laugher, "Gold!"

He wiggles side to side in the passenger seat and whips out his mobile telephone looking down typing on the tiny keyboard in silence.

Cinco continues to steer with a smile and catches Breck's hand movements. "What are you doing?"

He looks down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "I'm searching for the real gold here in Bama, so we can pinpoint the exact location within the cavern."

"Grandmother told us that story."

"She told us one story. There are numerous stories of golden coins inside an ancient wooden crate here within Bama. This is one is intriguing. In the year 1890, Railroad Bill was an outlaw that hid his gold cache along the woodlands near the railroad tracks. He had been shot numerous times at once and then died in the year 1897. However, he is now a ghost that walks the railroad tracks between the towns of Atmore and Bay Minette here in Alabama."

Cinco continues to steer and shakes his curls saying with a sour frown. "No. No. No. I do not want to see or talk to a she-ghost or a he-ghost about any a stack of hidden gold nuggets. Forget that story!"

"Okay. In the year 1750, the McGillivray Plantation in Wetumpka has a story of hidden gold."

Cinco frowns. "That geography is too far south of us!"

"In the year 1897, a lumber mill owned by CE Sharps of Florence hid his golden coins."

Cinco shakes his curls. "That geography is too far north of us."

Breck smiles down at the screen on his phone, "Levi Colbert lived in a house which is located in Colbert County just off the Natchez trace parkway, where a story of hidden gold..."

"That geography location is too far west of us."

"Jessie James is rumored to have stored his gold on top of Sand Mountain in Collinsville.  
Cinco continues to steer with a frown. "No. I don't want climb a true mountain summit."

"You are very difficult to please, right now, Cinco." He smiles down at the tiny screen. "In the year 1863, three wagonloads of gold and silver coins worth 285,000 dollars was buried near a fence line near the city of Tallassee..."

Cinco frowns. "Where is the city of Tallassee?"

"I don't know."

"Then forget that unknown geographical location also."

Breck smiles down at the screen on his phone and reads out loud the next story. "Okay. In the year 1845, Hardy Clemens owned a cotton plantation near the city of Tuscaloosa and buried 100,000 pieces of gold somewhere on his property during the Civil War."

"No."

Breck exhales. "I am finding numerous rumors of gold and jewelry along the Gulf Coast near Mobile."

"That geography is to too far south of us."

"Well, I don't know the answer to your question. What do you wanna do now?"

Cinco laughs out loud and continues to steer the terrain vehicle, reaching the back to the bench seat, pulling a set of folded papers. He extends the papers to Breck. "I was testing your intellect. And you have failed, Brick Brain. Do you ever listen to your other brother?"

Breck exhales with annoyance and stares down at the wad of papers on Cinco's hands. "What! What is that set of folded papers there in your hand?"

Cinco continues to steer with one hand and smiles with amusement extending the wad of papers to Breck. "This is a copy of Flamingo's award-winning senior research paper. Flamingo detailed the definition of gold, but he also pinpointed out some nifty locations within the great State of Alabama. I bet there's a posse of men and women on their way here in hopes of finding gold."

"What does that mean?"

Cinco continues to steer with one hand and holds the wad of papers to Breck, "Flamingo, he typed out each working theory and then summarized each physical location for the eyeballs and neurons on our lovely state governor. In the year 1864, a stage coach of gold coins and bars worth 900,000 dollars back then was heading out from the first capital city of Montgomery moving toward its destination, the Confederate Treasurer vault in Richmond, Virginia, which was the second headquarters for the Confederate army and officers.

Breck snatches the papers and huffs with annoyance. "We know that, Cinco. We narrated that story inside the living room setting four hours ago, bro." He looks down and swiftly reads the first sentence on Flamingo's research paper.

Cinco slaps the hand on the steering wheel. "Ah! However, the running stage coach and the armed Confederate soldiers never reached the great State of Virginia and disappeared near the small cow town of Lacy Springs."

"What! Wait! We're right looking for the first gold treasure chest from Old Man McCory."

Cinco shakes his curls. "No. We are not. Because Old Man McCory won his little battle at Mohawk Patch and killed all the bad Union boys and robbed their treasure chest using the stolen gold coins to rebuild his cotton and cow plantation. Else, we would not exist here, dude."

"O! Okay. I got that." Breck frowns. "So, is that second gold treasure story really true?"

Cinco grins. "I dunno. The second golden story told here. In the year 1864, two wooden crates, each two feet long by three feet wide by four feet deep was filled with gold and silver coins, worth 100,000 dollars. The stage coach was heading towards the state of Tennessee from the first capital of Montgomery. So, they tried it again. When a troop of Union soldier approached on foot in the distance, the Confederate escort of men hid the two wooden crates near a creek stream which was located somewhere near the Tennessee River at present-day town of Lacy Springs."

"No way!"

"Yes way!"

"Finally, this is the last golden story coming from Flamingo." Cinco laughs out loud still steering the terrain vehicle over the rough terrain with both hands. "In December of 1864, a stage coach of gold bars from the Union Bank was heading down to New Orleans marching through the great State of Alabama. However, the stage coach and the men did not reach the wild city of New Orleans. But a few head scalps of white men were found by a team of nosy archeologists in present-day Lacy Springs."

Breck nods with a laugh. "Now, I am convinced that there is golden treasure here."

Cinco halts the vehicle and skips over the dry grass, killing the engine, facing a tan colored boulder. He tosses both of his arms in the air and hits the rooftop laughing out loud. "Finally, finally, finally, we're really close to finding one of the stolen boxes that contains a set of Confederate gold. One gold box is worth 10 million dollars in..."

Breck slides off the seat and races ahead with laughter.

Cinco gasps in alarm and slides off the bench seat racing back to the trunk, lifting the lid. He grabs several items and then scoots around the vehicle chasing after his brother Breck.

Breck continues to run ahead towards a tall solid tan-colored rock boulder surrounded by rows of short green colored plant and colorful flower bushes, leaping over each set of loose logs or a mound of dirt. This part of the farm land has not been cleared or cultivated for pasture land for the cows or a picnic spot for an afternoon lunch meal. He slides to a halt and stares at the boulder, not seeing the cave's mouth. The face is covered in tall plant vines and short rows of bushes.

Cinco races by Breck with laughter and then stops pointing at the new entrance. "That's a cavern entrance in black hue."

He dashes ahead, stops, and then stands beside Cinco saying with a grin. "Is that really a cavern's entrance in black hue. We did it. We found it. We found the lost cave that holds the lost Confederate gold. Get inside! Go now!"

"Here! A second gigantic portable flashlight for you to help me find the gold coins," Cinco hands the item to Breck and then flicks on his own flashlight, entering the cavern first, stopping a few inches inside and sounds with a gasp. The bright light coming from the flashlight beams outward showing a floor, two side walls, and a ceiling of solid rock. "Ugh! Geez! The cave interior is very dark inside here. We slowly move down each side wall and search for a crack or a fusion or a break in the rock. There, we will find the treasure chest."

Breck enters the cavern and stands behind Cinco, seeing the dark cave and two beams from each flashlight, "Right!" He turns and faces the side wall, reaching up with his free hand, touching the dusty rock and coughs out loud from the flying dust particles. He squats down and continues to survey the wall with one hand. He slowly moves sideways with Cinco and beams the flashlight on each part of the side rock wall.

The cave is semi-dark without an array of bright sunlight beams contains cold temperatures without the natural sunlight heat. One side wall tilts up into the curved ceiling making the wall slope without a set of falling loose pebbles. The tilted wall gently flows into a curved rock ceiling of tan stone and then drops down on the opposite side into a straight wall of matching rock.

Cinco slowly scoots down the opposite rock wall and continues to shift up and down like Breck, touching the wall, coughing out from the flying dust particles. "This cave is shaped funny. It appears like a trapezoid, not a parallelogram. A parallelogram has two equal sides. It is not designed as a rhombus either as a rhombus has four equal sides within the shape. So, the cave interior is an image of a trapezoid with four edges and four corners."

Breck stands upright and swings around smiling at the back spine on Cinco. "That's correct, bro. Your academic studies are paying off big time. Yes, I agree with you. The cave appears in the shape of a trapezoid."

"Thanks, dude!" Cinco continues to shuffle up and down over the side wall.

Breck spins around and resumes lighting the side of the rock wall, touching the dust while searching for a crack or fusion that might hold the treasure chest.

A few minutes later, Breck slowly scoots sideways towards the rear of the rock cavern. "Well, this is the shortest cave floor on Planet Earth without nesting wildlife and a line of sleeping vampire bats. The length is ten feet from the mouth of the cave. And my side wall of rock is dusty and completely enclosed with solid rock elements. My five fingers do not find a crack or a fusion or a broken piece of rock, only smooth a wall. What did you find, Cinco?"

"The same damn thing," Cinco stands upright from the rock floor and exhales with frustration staring at the side wall. "The physical clues were so sound and cleared marked our pathway. So, where's the damn treasure chest?"

He spins around and faces the rear wall. The wall is solid rock in matching tan hue that displays a medium-sized irregular hole on the bottom, near the cave floor. He points down at a new opening. "Well, I see light over here. The sunlight pours from this opening."

Cinco spins around with a gasp and stares at the rear wall viewing the same irregular new opening. "That's it! Go into the light, dude! Go and get to the gold! Move fast, Breck!"

Breck laughs out loud and squats down on both his kneecaps, placing the flashlight and his mobile telephone on top of the rock floor for safety, slowly crawling through the new opening. He exits the cave and then slowly stands dashing away from the exit hole.

Inside the cave, Cinco drops down on his kneecaps and places his flashlight on top of the rock floor, slowly crawling ahead, entering the opening. He exits the cave and then slowly stands upright on top of red colored dirt staring at the landscape.

The enclosure is surrounded by a circular face cliff of solid tan colored rock which is part of the Brindlee Mountain Range. A section of flat red-colored dirt displays a grove of old, tall shade trees in various sizes, textures, heights, and ages. In the middle of the grove of trees, a dark colored broken wooden crate stands alone and lonely underneath the array of low-hanging tree branches with green colored leaves. Surrounding the grove of tall shade trees, a circle of rippling dark red mud exists without a single flower bush or a fruit bush or a plant bush or a short tree that exposes the pale blue skyline and beams of heat and yellow colored sunlight.

His eyeballs drop down and stare at Breck.

Five feet in front of Cinco, Breck stands upright inside red colored mud puddle. His boots are covered in red mud up toward the ankles.

Cinco frowns. "What is this place? This is like an oasis of trees and water holes and lush landscape of plants. In the distance, I see..."

"Cinco!" Breck wiggles side to side but cannot move his body. Then his boots sink further down into the red mud puddle. "What's happening to me, Cinco?"

Cinco continues to stand in front of the tiny opening and leans against the rock wall, staring down at Breck. "O! That plot of hard red clay soil has given away to softer soil. There must be a natural water source flowing through the red clay and near that old tree trunk. Let me whip out my trusty mobile telephone and find the answer!"

Breck wiggles side to side and as his two boot heels slowly sinks further down into soft muddy red puddle. "Hurry up, Cinco!"

Cinco reads out loud from his mobile telephone. "O! I thought so. This is a called a Devil's Stovepipe."

He continues to stand in the wet sand and as his both of his boot toes and heels are covered in tan colored sand. He looks down and wears a sour frown at his covered feet. "What! What did you say?"

Cinco continues to stand in front of tiny opening and points down at the wet sand. "A Devil's Stovepipe is a hole or opening that forms when a dead tree has been buried down into the wet mud. The base of the dead tree trunk is still alive, sorta, down there which keeps the surrounding sand and mud from collapsing down onto the tree trunk, creating a hidden hole."

He tries to lift one boot sole from the red mud puddle, without success, and stares down at his two stuck boots. "So, I'm stuck like I'm walking around in a thick puddle of red mud."

Cinco nods. "Yes, you are really stuck in soft ground of red colored mud which is really quicksand."

He tries to lift the other boot sole from the red mud puddle without success. "No! This is not quicksand. Quicksand exists only in the Amazon jungles with the monkeys and lions and elephants."

Cinco laughs, "A herd of elephants live on the continent of Africa with the lions, not the Amazon jungles with the silly monkeys. Here, I stand and look at a jungle of rotted trees and wet red colored mud. This is really a muddy quicksand pit."

He sneers. "Get me outta of this, Cinco!"

"Okay. Okay. Let me read out loud the subject of quicksand and the escape method from the stuff."

He sneers, "Now, Cinco!"

Cinco reads out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "Quicksand, the more you struggle in it, the faster you will sink. Stop moving and talking! Listen to me, Breck!"

Breck stops his body and foot movement, exhaling with worry, saying with a firm tone. "I am listening."

Cinco laughs. "First, don't freak out."

"I am not freaking out."

"Second, stay calm."

"I am calm."

"Breathe."

"I am breathing."

Cinco smiles. "Quicksand is rarely more than a couple of feet deep down into the ground. But you are safe."

Breck exhales. "I am safe."

Cinco nods. "Relax your body."

"I am relaxed."

Cinco continues to read out loud the information on the tiny screen from his mobile telephone. "Now, you can't drown in the quicksand pit like it shows in those fake Hollywood movie films. A human body floats in the quicksand like swimming in fresh or salt ocean water. Sand or silt can become quicksand, if the ground is saturated with too much water. Or quicksand forms when wet sand becomes dislodged by a large object, like Breck, the third. The water cannot escape, so the sand and you become a liquefied solid."

"I figured that one out." Breck frowns.

Cinco laughs. "Good! Drop everything on your body and your hands, including a backpack or tote bag."

"I am not holding anything, Cinco."

Cinco reads out loud from his phone. "Quicksand is dangerous, because it pulls you downward into the wet sand. If your body is pulled down to the chest area, you will have difficulty breathing. Are you still breathing tons of fresh air?"

He sneers. "I am breathing. My feet are covered. What do I do?"

"I'm getting to that part. Stop, look, and listen, Breck! Yes, it is possible to death in quicksand."

He yells, "Cinco!"

Cinco laughs. "Calm down, Breck! That was the first rule in escaping out from quicksand. You are not going to drown in the quick-sand or quick-mud here. Quicksand is a natural substance which is much more denser than a bowl of pond water, so you have much more buoyancy rather than floating on top of the ocean water. Your body will only sink half-way down to your waistline. Geez! That's shitty!"

He frowns. "You sound like an annoying Flamingo."

"Good! I'm the smarter triplet son here," Cinco laughs and types on the tiny keyboard, studying the geology map. "And you are very lucky that I love Mother Nature and have studied all of her 'pit' falls that lie around our farm lands," he laughs alone."

Breck yells in worry, "Cinco!"

Cinco reads the tiny screen, "Hmm! As I study the geology map, there is artesian spring of pressure underneath the ground soil creating a silt bed of sand and mud. The mud and sand are floating or suspended and lubricated by the pressure of the water coming up from the below ground. So, you will not drown or die today. I just have proven that scientific theory. I wonder if the Hollywood movie film producers know about this interesting bit of geological information."

"Cinco!"

"Quicksand is formed here on our farm property when a sandy river bed at the base of a hill is feeding the spring water underneath the soil, providing a gush of water pressure," Cinco looks up with a smile and surveys the new landscape pointing at the hill. "O! I see the tall grassy and rock hilltop, which is really the foothills on the Appalachian Mountain Range right in front of your hairy bone skull, Breck."

Breck sneers, "Cinco!"

"Quicksand can be any depth, but it is usually shallow. Okay!" He looks up and smiles at Breck. "Can you touch the bottom of the earth floor with your boot heels or boot toes?"

He sneers, "Cinco!"

"Answer the question, Breck!"

He sneers, "Cinco!"

Cinco looks down and reads out loud more of the information on his phone, "The salt in the soil causes a grip sensation on your body, which in turn, sinks your body down deeper into the quicksand or quick-mud, in this case. The salt content is stronger than plain old red colored clay mud. Does the mud feel different to your body or your hands or your feet, Breck?" He views his brother.

Breck sneers, "Cinco!"

Cinco looks down and reads out loud the next piece of information. "O! It feels like quick-setting cement or glue. Ain't that right, Breck?"

He sneers. "I'm going to kill you when I finally get outta of here, Cinco."

Cinco smiles and continues to read out loud from the tiny screen on his mobile telephone, "This quicksand is very similar to falling down into a shifting ocean sandbar. When the pressure of the human body cracks the delicate sand, then the body falls through the wet cracked sand hole and then down into the ocean water."

Breck snarls in anger and worry. "Get me out of this quicksand muddy pit right now, son!"

Cinco looks up and smiles at his brother, "Do not move!" He laughs and looks down at the phone screen. "Sorry for the pun! It takes a ton of force to remove something the size of a leg or foot from a pit of quicksand. If you or I tug on your foot, then the force will pull on your leg ligaments and tendons, tearing them apart from your body."

Breck exhales with worry. "How do I get outta of this sandy, red colored, muddy, quick-mud pit, Cinco?"

Cinco reads out loud from the mobile telephone, "All right! Here, I found the answer. If possible, get out of your shoes, your boots, and do it now."

Breck looks down and frowns at his boots then views Cinco. "I'm wearing my boots. This is my favorite pair of cowboy boots."

Cinco points down at the wet quick-mud and the sunken boots. "If you wanna live, then let the boots die, Breck! Move your body or your boots horizontally through the wet quick-mud towards me. You are only five feet away. Once your close, I can jerk your body out from the boots and the wet quick-mud to safety."

Breck slowly scoots sideways through the red muddy quicksand shuffling ahead towards Cinco and then halts with worry, staring down at his boots. The red quicksand has shifted upwards and covers the inlays on his brown colored boots. "I'm stuck again."

Cinco looks down and read out loud from the mobile telephone. "If you are stuck again, move backwards, before the quicksand takes hold."

He shuffles backwards with both feet and then halts saying with worry. "I'm moving backwards. Now, I'm stuck again. What do I do now?"

Cinco frowns with worry now. "The issue is your two big boots. Walking around in a thick puddle of red quick-mud will pull your two boots right off your naked feet. We don't want that to happen. This internet electronic article states that a couple of guys were pulling their trapped friend out from a pit of quicksand by his arms. The body on the victim parted at his waistline tossing his upper torso through the air, landing on the ground. The lower body remained inside the pit of quicksand." He looks at Breck and shakes his curls, "We don't wanna do that."

Breck whines with worry and stares at Cinco. "What do I do? I can't get out by moving forwards or sideways or backwards, Cinco. Go and get help from Horace!"

Cinco frowns. "No! You can't stay here as a sitting duck for a flock of birds or a pack of wolves. Let me read some more instructions on escaping from a pit of quicksand!" He mumbles. "Don't panic! You will not sink in quicksand. You float in the water particles inside quicksand. Quicksand liquefies very quickly during stress. The higher the stress, the quicksand becomes more fluid. Then a trapped body sinks down when the quicksand shifts. O! That's why people die."

"Cinco!"

Cinco continues to read out loud from his phone. "Quicksand possesses a density of two grams-per-milliliter. Human density is only one gram-per-milliliter. So, a human cannot sink in quicksand."

Breck sneers. "I know that. You said that. How do I get outta of here, Cinco?"

"I'm reading."

"Read faster!" He growls with fear at his baby triplet brother.

"Quicksand becomes less viscous as you struggle inside the pit. What does that word viscous mean, Breck?"

Breck exhales. "Viscous, it means the thickness of matter."

Cinco looks up and winks at Breck. "O! You're really a smart dude, Breck," He looks down and reads out loud to Breck, "This article states here. As quicksand liquefies, the viscosity becomes thicker, where a body's flow resistance increases. Wow! That's amazing!"

He growls, "Cinco!" Breck stands upright in his boots which are covered in wet sandy, red colored mud. The quicksand has not reached his leg calves, much less his fitted waistline.

Cinco grins, "I'm getting closer here, Breck. The formation of sand sediment contains very high viscosity or thickness which causes the problem of freeing a trapped human from the quicksand pit. So, fresh water needs to be introduced down into the sand sediment of thickness. Water will loosen the sand sediment or thickness inside the quicksand pit. The force needed to jerk your foot out from the quicksand pit in a millisecond is equal to lifting up a compact car," he looks up and smiles at Breck. "Wow! That's incredible and sad. I don't carry that type of brute strength, Breck."

He growls, "Cinco! How do I get outta of here?"

Cinco looks back down at the screen and reads out loud with a smile. "Here it is! The method to remove your body from a quicksand or quick-mud pit is to wiggle both your legs side to side while creating a circular pocket or space between your two legs. Hmm! That sounds like some kinky sex act...

"Cinco!"

"Then, your rescuer pours water down into the new hole near your parted two legs. The water will flow down and loosen up the sand thickness getting out the trapped human. You do this slowly and progressively while repeating the technique, until Breck is freed from the quick-mud. Yeah! Hey! Yay!"

Breck continues to stand and whines with worry. "Where do you get a pail or a pallet or a pond of water? I tried to move around and create space between my two feet. Then, the quicksand quickly sucked my boots back down and lowered me deeply down into the pit. This is an impossible task for me. You need to go and get Horace and some men to come and get me outta of here, Cinco, before nightfall, before the hunt of the wild animals that live here in the woodlands."

Cinco slowly scoots along the rock wall and falls down the plateau in the dry dirt spinning around, saying with a smile. "I see a pond of fresh water. And I see a bucket of wood. Old Man McCory figured out the secret of escaping the quick-mud, before the smart scientists of modern day. I'm filling the bucket with water, Breck. I'm coming back to rescue you."

Cinco races ahead with a smile and reaches down without stopping, grabbing the empty wooden bucket, sliding down over the short grass blades. He stops and dunks the bucket down into the fresh pond water, jerking it full in the air, standing upright. He spins around and races back to the ledge on the rock water, slowly scooting back to Breck.

Cinco stops and stares at Breck. "Okay! You are too far away for me to hand you the bucket with me becoming trapped in the quick-mud too. So, I am going to toss the bucket of water in the air right at your face. Catch the bucket of water! Then wiggle your two boot soles and create a new space and pour the water down over your boots as you continue to shuffle sideways towards me. You will continue to shuffle sideways to me and shake the water down into the quick-mud pit, until you are freed from the pit, Breck."

"That's brilliant, Cinco!"

Cinco rears back both of arms and grunts out loud holding the heavy bucket of water in the air. "Get ready! Extend both of your arms. I'll toss this heavy thing near your right arm," he tosses the bucket of water from his hands. The bucket swiftly soars in the air and as some of the water spills over the wooden edge. But the bucket moves ahead towards Breck.

Breck turns and holds both of his arms outward catching the bucket of water inside his chest which loses half of the water content. He looks down and wiggles his boot sole side to side creating a space within the mud, quickly pointing the water down into the small hole. He slowly shuffles sideways within one foot without reaching Cinco or the dry land.

Cinco and Breck repeat the scientific procedure numerous times, until the upright body on Breck is one foot or twelve inches from the dry land platform, the opening, and Cinco.

Cinco leans against the rock wall with worry and wears a sour frown to Breck. "You are almost here. But I can't grab your hands yet. I don't wanna get trapped inside the quick-mud pit too. So, you gotta ditch the boots, Breck."

Breck frowns. "But...but these are my favorite pair of boots."

He frowns. "The boots are ruined, Breck. You or no one else can remove the wet red colored mud from the tender leather. Stand on your tippy toes inside each boot and then lean over to me. I can grab your arms and jerk your ass from the quick-mud pit. Do it now!"

Breck tosses the bucket back to Cinco. "Save this bucket for the next fool!"

Cinco catches the bucket with laughter and tosses it down in the dirt for safety, "Yeah!"

Breck looks down and smiles at his feet. "Let me say goodbye to my boots! Boots, you've been a pair of good friends. I'll miss you, buddies!" He wiggles both of his legs and then stands on each tippy toe inside each boot sole leaning his body over the muddy water without falling down into the wet mud.

On the level rock platform, Cinco leans over from the safety on the rock wall and reaches out, grabbing both of Breck's arms, slowly lifting his brother in the air using his brute strength.

Breck kicks each foot from out of the boot and launches his body in the air, sounding with a set of heavy grunts, colliding into an upright Cinco and then they both tumble sideways from the rock wall. They both land in a tight brotherly huddle on top of the dry dirt, exhaling with relief, hugging each other with love and respect.

A few minutes later, Cinco bad breathes into Breck's face. "Are you alive?"

Breck exhales with sour breath, "Yeah."

"Good!" Cinco rolls off Breck and stands upright from the dirt, extending his hand, assisting Breck to stand upright.

Breck exhales with relief and leads them in silence dropping down, entering the tiny hole back into the cavern. He slowly stands upright strutting down the rock floor towards the mouth, wearing a pair of sweaty, dirty socks, without his boots.

Cinco spins around and smiles at the newly discovered oasis. The grove of tall shade trees has not been disturbed. The wooden crate with something, maybe, thousands of golden coins, has not be perturbed either. The wet red mud slowly ripples on top of the soft ground, which signals both an animal and human trap.

A few feet from the small opening on the rock wall, a pair of brown colored cowboy boots stand alone and lonely inside the dark red mud. Time will suck the two items down into the quick-mud pit, without the naked feet of Breck.

Cinco whispers with a grin to the new secret hiding spot. "I'll be back. I promise," he spins around and drops down on the dirt exiting the enclosure, entering the cave. He stops and reaches down grabbing up each item that Breck has left on the floor, slowly standing upright with a smile. He races down the rock floor with laughter and exits the rock cave.

At 04:04 pm, Cinco slides down into the terrain vehicle with a smile in silence.

Breck sits inside the driver's seat behind a warm engine and stares at the mouth of cave, without his boots. "I'll drive now to each pile of gear items. You get out and collect our lost gear. The sun will be dropping down within the hour," he steers and then stops the terrain vehicle as Cinco slides out and gathers the protection gear placing it back into the vehicle, until they finally arrive back home at the McCory cow ranch before nighttime.

Sunday October 5th

McCory Cow Ranch

2nd floor level location

Pig Pen setting

Warm temperatures and bright sunshine

01:01 pm

After church services, two carefree teenage boys, who are seventeen years old, lounge a pair of bare feet off an individual ratty torn, food-stained, chocolate brown colored cloth sofa, which has been strategic placed away from each other's arm span as instructed by their mother inside an air-conditioned room.

The rectangular floor measures thirty feet in length and thirty feet in wide by twenty feet in height with a dark wooden floor covered in a soft puke green colored foam mat underneath each chaise lounge chair. Each chair protrudes from three different walls.

The famed Pig Pen court setting is used to shoot numerous basketballs through a dangling white tinted net which is attached around the single blue metal hoop with a height of ten feet up from the padded floor. The basketball ring is secured to the fan-shaped back board made of bright red fiberglass clashing with the bright yellow painted walls.

Two teen males are silence inside the room, not playing an electronic game on the seventy-inched plasma television or listening to country music or following an active professional football game on the second television screen.

Flamingo appears with a smile and stands inside the open archway scratching his blonde whiskers, wearing his usual ass-backwards baseball cap, a clean pair of tan colored cargo pants, a light blue colored, short-sleeved tee shirt with a single vile word on his chest, and a pair of naked feet. He advances ahead towards the row of glass windows and then stops, smiling out the glass window admiring the pretty day and the lush forest. "We're out from school with the Fall Break. So, how about we all go exploring today?"

Cinco lounges inside his assigned chaise lounge chair on the side wall next to the entrance door and displays a clean white tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt, a pair of dark blue running shorts, and a pair of naked feet. He looks up with a smile to see Breck. "Let's go riding by horse today, Breck."

Breck continues to sit inside his assigned chaise lounge chair on the other side wall next to the entrance door, wearing a clean white-tinted, short-sleeved tee short and a pair of red colored running shorts, and a pair of naked feet. He continues to read a mudder magazine and says with a stern face. "We can go riding horses, if you've finished studying the following academic courses in biology, geometry, and history for your set of finale exams, after we return back from the high school Autumn Break. You must pass some of your academic courses with the letter grade of D, before you repeat Lacy Springs High for a fifteenth year, bro," he laughs.

"Fuck!" Cinco looks down with a sour frown at the confusing problem.

Flamingo continues to smile and stares out the window. "I'm help you study, Cinco, if you come and explore with me."

Breck looks up and frowns at the back spine on Flamingo. "Why, Flamingo?"

He needs an extra pair of hands and eyeballs for his outside field work assignment while drafting his two brothers free of charge. Flamingo says, "I have gathered information about my College Honor Challenge from the library. Now, I gotta to and start collecting as much physical geographical datum for my research paper right now."

Breck continues to sit in the lounge chair and flips the page staring down at the pictures, not reading the article. "Why, Flamingo? You are not getting a doctoral degree. You are entering as a college student freshman like me and Cinco," he turns and reaches over, grabbing the football, looking up with a smile, "Hey, Cinco, catch!" He passes the ball to Cinco. Cinco looks up and lifts both palms catching the football wearing a smile.

Flamingo grins out the window. "Once I finish writing my research paper within four days, 84 hours or 4,600 minutes or 9,000 seconds, I present it to my college advisor..."

"What college advisor?" Breck holds both hands open for the football. "You already have a college advisor. Why did you already have a college advisor? I don't have a college advisor. I'm going to law school, after I graduate college. Where is my college advisor? Cinco, do you have a college advisor?" Cinco tosses the football across the room towards Breck and laughs out loud from the silly conversation between his two brothers.

Flamingo says. "After I had aced all my college introductory courses as a college freshman student through the Lacy Springs High School advance placement classes, which technically makes me now a college sophomore student, Mama and A.J. talked with Burn U Admissions Department. Then I was assigned a college advisor to guide me straight into the necessary college classes of my core courses for a biology degree. With a set of advancement college academic classes plus all of the regular on-line classes..."

"And mama's money," Breck catches the football and wears a sour frown.

He smiles, "And mama's money, I can graduate..."

Breck frowns. "If Mama pays a million dollars to Burn U, then Cinco can graduate with a bullshit degree next month," he laughs alone.

Flamingo studies the pretty autumn day. "For the College Honor Challenge, the work is categorized as an independent study which will help me receive my college degree faster."

"I depend on a stack of cash, you mean," Breck laughs with Cinco.

Cinco grins and fingers Breck. "That's good. I depend on my mama and her stack of cash."

Breck pitches the football back to Cinco. "And my mama only needs to donate a million dollars to Bam U, so they'd take Cinco with all of his shitty grades..."

"I'm going to receive a football scholarship, like you, asshole," Cinco sneers and catches the football.

"To the wrong university..." Breck frowns. "You and me will be playing against each other for the national championship, next year, boy." He catches the football from Cinco.

"Then, I guess, I want be the one getting hurt in the State college championship game," he chuckles with Flamingo.

Breck tosses the ball back to Cinco and says with a sour frown, "Smart ass."

Cinco nods and catches the ball. "I'm in the horsey program for veterinarian school. I can't go to Burn U."

Breck frowns. "Cinco, you'll be wasting your time and our mama's money and your neurons pissing on each one of your academic classes that you don't need. You should attend Burn U with me, so I can help with your academic failures..."

Cinco sours. "What's up your ass, Breck? And it isn't a corn cob either."

He frowns, "Nothing."

Flamingo smiles out the window. "With advancement classes plus all the on-line college classes..."

"...and our mama's money," Breck frowns.

"And our mama's money, I can graduate within two years and then start medical school," Flamingo nods.

Cinco frowns at Breck. "What are you so sour pussy, this morning, dude?"

Flamingo smiles out the window, "Breck is mad. Mama and A.J. need their private to date as a new boyfriend-girlfriend thing. Gawd! Grow a manly hairy ball, Breck! Mama and A.J. come back in about a week. This is the Fall Break from school. And we're freed like a litter of penned up coon dog pups. Let's go out in the woods and shoot something."

Breck sours. "O! The Middle Child wants to go out into the woods and shoot something. What's up your ass, Flamingo?"

He smiles at the bright day of sunlight. "I'm working on my research paper. I'm required to prepare and present a research paper covering history, literature, and science and art."

Breck frowns. "We know that. You keep repeating your statements."

Cinco smiles, "How many pages do you have to write?"

"Well, the Burn U representative didn't give a finite number, only saying that the information should completely cover the subject. I have sketched out an outline. Right now, I am looking at writing one hundred thousand words for my College Honor..."

"One hundred thousand words, do you mean the words are actually typed out on a computer keyboard?" Cinco gasps. "Then one hundred thousand words are actually printed from a computer printer for your new college assignment. Is this what college courses are going to be like, Flamingo?"

"No, Cinco! This college assignment is special only for me," Flamingo smiles at the sunlight through the window. "That's about one hundred and seventy pages more or less prepared in single space sentence structure and presented in oral dictation in front of my AP peers at school on Friday."

"How long does it take to type out one thousand words on several sheet of blank paper?" Cinco frowns.

Breck smiles, "I once read that a book author can punch out a forty-thousand-word novel within three full days."

Cinco shakes his curls and gasps in shock. "An author can write forty thousand American words within three days plus night within seventy-two hours. I never, ever want to be a novelist."

Breck exhales. "Bro, our future years of college days are supposed to be spent with fun adventuresome, not an assembly line of individual car parts. You're going to miss all of sizzling party fun for four or five years and then start your real dull job of being a responsible adult."

Flamingo spins around and nods with a smile. "I wanna go the fast-track course and then slide out of post-graduate and jump right into medical school. Then I wanna finish my medical fellowship becoming a licensed medical physician. I can marry Violet and start our little family here in Lacy Springs."

"No. It doesn't work like that." Breck frowns.

He smiles. "Yes, it does work like that for me. I've jolted down all the steps along with some estimated calendar dates and planned it out from the day of graduation to the day of marriage."

Breck smiles, "Then you can use your award-winning senior high research gold paper or fuck off!"

He frowns. "Naw, I can't fuck up my College Honor Challenge paper. This is the first step towards my ever-lasting happy life until I die and go to heaven..."

"...hell..." Breck mumbles with jealousy.

Cinco sneers, "Breck, stop pissing all over the potted flowers. Everyone is happy here. Mama is the happiest person in the world right now. I've ever seen her so happy. I love A.J. He's the perfect male, man, and mate for our mama. I wished he hadn't waited almost twenty years to marry her."

Flamingo nods. "They both needed the extra time to heal and recovery. Our mother loved our father. She couldn't shove that love feeling aside and find another mate, much less marry another male."

"...like Breck Brian can," Cinco frowns.

Flamingo frowns. "Why are you picking on Breck, Cinco?"

"I'm not!" Cinco laughs.

Breck looks down and flips each page in the magazine without seeing the glossy colored picture, saying with a sour frown. "They are not getting married until some unknown day and time and season. Why are they taking a honeymoon trip now?"

Flamingo says. "A.J. and Mama are touring the country of Europe seeing the mountain grave site of our father, sorta."

Cinco frowns at Breck. "That's a very emotional journey for both Mama and A.J. A.J. was a good friend of our daddy. He sacrificed over twenty years of his personal health and life force looking for our daddy's murderer and then killed him dead. Dude, that's both the devotion and the love of a friend."

Cinco turns and winks at Flamingo. "I'd kill for you, Flamingo."

"That doesn't get you outta of studying with me, Cinco." Breck frowns down at the open magazine.

Flamingo chuckles, "What's up your ass, Breck?"

Cinco laughs. "It's not a slender girly finger."

"Let's go exploring, Cinco, Breck!" Flamingo smiles.

Breck continues to flip through the magazine with annoyance, "Naw."

Flamingo frowns. "What's up your ass, Breck?"

Cinco laughs. "It's not a girly tongue."

He nods. "It's a beautiful day. I was getting claustrophobic during the crowded church services. Where were so many people at our church today? Let's go and play, Cinco!"

Cinco tosses the book, the ink pen, and the notebook of paper on the floor, standing upright from the sofa with a grin and a nod to Flamingo. "I'm in."

He smiles, "Are you in, too, Breck?"

Cinco points at Breck with a smile. "Breck is out, but we should take him along with us."

"Why is Breck out and not about?" He laughs.

Cinco grins at the blonde hair roots on Breck. "I know why Breck is mad."

Flamingo frowns down at the same blonde hair roots on Breck too. "Why is Breck mad at the world?"

Breck continues to flip through the magazine for a second time without reading the articles or studying the glossy colorful pictures. "Mind your own business, busybodies."

Flamingo frowns. "Why?"

Cinco laughs. "I know why Breck is pouty and putty."

"Why?"

"I know why Breck is lazy."

"Why?"

Cinco points at Breck. "Breck has not completely his ultimate goal there at Lacy Springs High."

Flamingo frowns. "We're seniors. We're graduating high school. We're going to Burn U. We're all got scholarship. We're mama's three slices of apple pie. What did I leave out?" He moves ahead and stops, standing at his assigned chaise lounge chair, lifting his school backpack and fills the guts with a math calculator, a notepad of paper, and three sharpened pencils.

Cinco laughs, "Nothing!"

Flamingo continues to sort through the school supplies while deciding what to bring on the exploring trip. "What's up your ass, Breck?"

He laughs. "It's not a girly nose."

Flamingo packs with the school supplies. "Why are you sticking your nose up Breck's ass, Cinco?"

"He's mad, since its fall time and two more months of holiday. And he has almost finished fucking all the virgins at LSH, except for one."

Flamingo drops the backpack and views Cinco. Cinco jabs his finger and a head nod at Breck. Breck continues to review each glossy photograph in the magazine in silence.

Flamingo growls, "Are you mind-fucking my virgin princess, Violet?" He back steps from the chaise lounge chair with a sneer and moves ahead towards Breck for a jealous brotherly kill.

Cinco quickly flings all his academic textbooks plus individual school supplies to the side wall and then swiftly dashes ahead, reaching out, grabbing the arm on Flamingo and cuddles his brother. He sneers into the eardrum on Flamingo.

Flamingo swiftly bucks his upright body back and forth trying to struggle out of 260 pounds of taunt muscles for an upcoming black and then blue then red bleeding body parts on his older triplet brother sounding with a set of loud snarls.

Cinco leans down and sneers into the eardrum on Flamingo. "He didn't say that, Flamingo."

He sneers. "And my brother Breck didn't say that he wasn't mind-fucking my girl. Get off me, Cinco! I got a beating to honor."

Cinco continues to hug Flamingo and tongue spits into the same eardrum on his brother. "I love you, dude! So, I'm going to hang onto your body for another five more minutes. Breck, open your lips and kindly apologize to Flamingo for mind-fucking his girl! Breck!"

The mobile telephone sings with a country sing.

Breck continues to sit on top of his assigned chaise lounge chair and looks down at the electronic image on the screen saying with a smile. "Mama is calling us on my cell phone," he looks up with a wink to see Flamingo, "Ring, ring, ding-dong! You got saved by the fucking school bell, before I come over there and beat your ass black and blue first, Flamingo," he laughs.

Cinco continues to hug Flamingo and as Flamingo continues to sneer at Breck. Cinco nods with a stern face to Breck. "Go down into the den room and hook up the landline telephone cord up to the plasma television for our social chat with Mama and A.J., Breck, while I personally escort Flamingo downstairs in a few more minutes."

On top of the lounge sofa, Breck scoots off the furniture without complain and a smile, exiting Pig Pen, moving down the empty hallway and climbs down the staircase. He will enter the den and set up the equipment for an international vocal and audio telephone call from A.J., since Arie must see and hear her three redneck babies once per day. Or she'll return to McCory Cow Ranch with motherly worry.

Since, the failed kidnapping plot, Arie and A.J. have implemented a set of child safety rules and regulations over her three teenagers, before releasing them into the wild crazy college world in the city of Birmingham next year.

Inside Pig Pen, Cinco releases Flamingo and spins around to face his brother saying with a worried brow. "You have got to get control of your love emotions over your girl Violet. I understand and absorb all the love, jealousy feelings all the time, Flamingo. Everyone on Planet Earth knows that you and she are an item."

Flamingo continues to stand in place and exhales with worry. "I wish I could purchase for my girl Violet an engagement ring right now. I have a bank account of money. I plan to marry her. There's no else, Cinco."

He nods with a stern face. "No one else thinks of Violet, but you, Flamingo."

Flamingo sneers, "Breck!"

He reaches out and cuddles his brother for a second time, leading them around to face the open archway, slowly moving out into an empty hallway and whispers into the cheekbone on Flamingo. "Breck is a shit ass. He got taken lock, stock, and gun barrel with dead and buried Unnamed Her. A name, we all promised never to repeat foreverly. So, show some compassion here to Breck. I really wished that Breck had accompanied Mama and A.J. to see our daddy's grave site, too, while giving Breck some final closure. He's been filling daddy's shoes for decades. Then, in one bad day, we all got lied, tried, kidnapped, threatened, rejected, betrayed, and then replaced. A.J. is happy with Mama. Mama is happy with A.J. You got your girl Violet. I got my girl Babbie. Breck has nobody," he exhales, "Funny this! Before the shit hit the fan, a few days ago, Breck had been the happiest carefree boy in the world, until his pink bubble got popped."

Flamingo smiles, "Okay. So, we go and find him a future wife, too."

Cinco frowns. "No. Breck is going for seven years of schooling from Burn U through to the School of Law. That's not an idea situation for a boy-girl marriage. He's smart. But Breck must study and learn everything about lawyering in order to take over all the legal entanglements for the McCory clan. That's big job, Flamingo, for one man."

Flamingo exhales, "Okay. So, we find him a whore, now."

"You have fucked every girl here in Lacy Springs, at least once, some twice, and other thrice."

Flamingo laughs. "Okay, I agree. Now, I'm out of ideas."

Cinco nods, "Ditto!"

Inside the den room setting, Breck sits on top of a new long sofa that displays a fabric pattern with numerous yellow tinted mama ducks and their line of tiny matching baby ducks within a light-colored background and bounces up and down at the armrest while smiling at his mother and her fiancé A.J. "I exempted-out of all my academic tests for the six-weeks academic time period, Mama. I got the letter grade of A in each one of my academic classes on my future report card. And now I don't have anything to do for this the rest of my Fall Break week. But I'm helping Cinco with his academic studies. He'll pass, I promise."

Arie nods and smiles from the television screen at her son. "Breck, darling, you make me so pride."

"Hey, Mama!" Flamingo sits on the opposite end of Breck with Cinco in the middle to stop two brothers from dog fighting and cat hissing at each other in front of their mother.

Arie smiles on the television screen at her three sons. "Flamingo, how is your college paper progressing, honey?"

Flamingo smiles. "I love and miss you, Mama and A.J. But I'm glad you and A.J. are having a good time over there in a foreign country with proper gun protection," he laughs with his brothers and A.J. He grins. "Beginning today, I'm going to start collecting my empirical datum among the wet and dry woodlands pathway and then extrapolate a working theory, before I can actually start writing out my outline. Cinco, he's going to help me, today, too."

Arie smiles at her baby triplet. "Cinco, sweetheart, how is your academic studying progressing?"

Cinco smiles with a nod at his mother. "I'm doing very good, Mama. I promise to get the letter grade of D in each one of my classes, so I can graduate from high school. I don't want my sports college scholarship to go to waste."

On the screen, A.J. cuddles with Arie and laughs out loud. "That's a very good plan, Cinco. Save all of your neurons for your college examinations."

"Those are my mind thoughts exactly, A.J." Cinco laughs with his two brothers.

Arie smiles, "I like the sound of your schooling progress, during my absence. Horace says things are really smoothing too at the Ranch. We'll be arriving back home on...."

A.J. injects. "That is a fill in the blank question. And we have not decided what to fill into the blank yet. So, each one of you continue to obey your precious Grandma McCory, keep your pistol cocked for trouble, and ya'll be fine and dandy, until the two mature adults arrive back home."

Arie smiles, "Boys, I know this is the Fall Break and your break from the high school classes there in Lacy Springs. A whole ten days of sleeping late, goofing off, and quail hunting with Grandmother McCory, but I wanna remind everyone here. This is also the scheduled annual Revival Week at our church. Grandmother McCory might have small tasks and programs for you to perform at the church function with everyone else. So, please smile and grunt with it, for both mine and her sake's. She's a big member there at the church."

Flamingo whispers for his eardrums only, "Damn."

Breck gasps in alarm, "Revival week!"

Cinco nods with a smile. "Yes ma'am! We'll do whatever Grandmother McCory asks us too, Mama. Don't worry about us! We obey our elderly folks and kin, swiftly and all the time. You and A.J. continue to have fun over there in a foreign country with your cupped hand on the hidden pistol and don't worry about us. I promise. We behave good for Grandmother McCory over there."

A.J. laughs and as Arie frowns at Cinco. "All right, Cinco. You remind the troopers also. I love ya'll. I'm thinking of ya'll. Good-bye, my three sweethearts. Be good! I love ya'll."

Cinco smiles, "Bye, Mama and A.J.!"

Breck nods with a smile. "We'll be good like you wanna us, too, Mama. I love ya'll, too. Bye, Mama and A.J.!"

Flamingo smiles, "I love ya'll! Bye, Mama and A.J.!"

Arie waves with her hand and then blows a kiss to each one of her redneck babies, "Bye, boys!"

The television plasma presents a set of vertical silver and white tinted static.

Cinco reaches over and presses the stop button on the remote control. "Tasks and programs, did our mama mean to say one single task inside one single program at the church for Grandmother McCory?"

Breck stares at the black television screen with a smile, "Revival week, I like."

Flamingo frowns at the black television screen. "Damn! I do not like. I can't do both, programs and programming."

Cinco frowns. "What does that mean, Flamingo?"

Flamingo stands with a smile and a nod. "That means I start my college paper collection data, right now. Are you ready to go with me, Cinco?"

Cinco stands with a grin. "Lemme go and get my shotgun for some soon-to-be-dead quail chicks and their mamas. Then I'll be ready," he exits the den and veers into the beau parlor room, where a bigger and newer weapon store is located now first before getting properly dressed for a hunting excursion with his two brothers.

Flamingo turns and frowns down at the blonde-tinted hair roots on Breck. "Breck, are you coming with us?"

"Why are you going into the forest like Brother Jesus?" Breck looks up and laughs.

He smiles. "I need to theorize and then program out all the ancient factors consisting the cloud formation, the fresh water depth tables, and the heat flux indicators for my College Honor project plus all the other research variables to include within the history portion of my final research paper, not counting the actually physical materials..."

"What actually physical materials? What's your paper about?"

He nods. "That's a good question, in which, I don't have a direct answer. But I have a direct theorem that I'm using to search for the prism of my college paper."

Breck laughs with a nod. "That entire two sentence structures did not make any sense to me. But you're a really funny bro today!"

He smiles. "When I researched and then typed out my ten-page paper on the topic of gold during the holiday senior project, I discovered one of our blood relatives had stolen a few golden bars that translated into real money. He received some wet tongue spit from a dying Confederate soldier about a wooden crate of gold bars that had been stolen directly from the US Federal Government. And the US Federal Government had stolen something dull in hue from the one of the Native American Indian tribes that had camped around the lands in Mohawk Patch. The landscape around the wildflower and honeysuckle vines in Mohawk Patch started out as a trading post, not a graveyard, a long time ago. That's why there was a graveyard, not only each ancient and deceased family horse and dog and cat and wolf, but some ancient family dead bodies are lying around down there somewhere in the dirt with the gray maggots as the insects still consume the rotten flesh and pink guts."

Breck laughs. "You should switch to writing teen horror stories. Then you'll become a billionaire faster than a medical physician, bro."

He frowns. "Then the settler fort burned down from mysterious means. All the surviving family units moved their asses into the woodlands of Lacy Springs."

Breck gasps. "O! So, you're composing another fourth grade ten-page paper on lost golden nuts of Lacy Springs."

He shakes his nasty backward baseball cap with a stern face. "Naw. I'm composing a new theorem on a wooden crate of some hidden Native American Indian gold somewhere inside the landscape there in Mohawk Patch."

Breck frowns. "You are guessing somewhere there inside Mohawk Patch there is gold. The Patch comprises tall mountains, high cliffs, fresh water ponds, deep valleys, thick woodlands, dead graves, dark caves, flat meadows, baby quail, wild coyotes, shy deer, mean snakes, biting spiders, and a couple of wild ass timber wolves and probably a sleeping mountain lion. You're going to get..."

"I ain't getting hurt."

Breck slaps his chest. "You're going to get me hurt, not you. Pick an easier subject matter such like a far and away outer space black hole or something else. I would have mental thought with that phony, baloney topo-morphy flashlight devise thing you would have dropped the idea searching and seeking another object within the Brindlee Mountain cliffs. Bro, there is nothing there but wild animals, mosquitoes, and dead animal bones."

He slaps a chest with a smile. "I ain't any outer space man out there. I'm a cowboy down here. A cowboy always fights against a tribe of Native American Indians, not an outer space flying colorful comet with a tail," Flamingo laughs. "And I am shooting for a college credit in the course of computer programming also, once I present my electronic graph of both colored bars and pie charts. And if I can find one piece of hard evidence to prove my theorem, such like, an ancient rock or a fossilized stick or even a hidden piece of a golden nugget, then I'll receive a credit for my college archeology class, a twofer."

Breck shakes his skull. "You've whacked-out completely inside your academic showcase. You should learn to relax and have some fun, before becoming a real-life college student egg-head, bro. What does your girl Violet think about your one-thousand typed words on your college paper?"

He looks down and reads his mobile telephone with the geographical notes. "She's..."

"She's bored. Yeah. She receives good grades in her academic classes with me. Since, we're in the same classes at LSH. Right now, she's home sitting around for your personal phone call to go out and eat lunch."

He looks up and frowns. "We can't leave the horse ranch to socialize..."

Breck winks with a smile. "Of course, we can, Flamingo. Our mommy has repealed her home rules with A.J. and an army of paid and armed field hands around the ranch that watch and protect our asses. And our Grandmother McCory trusts us, encourages us, and wants us to socialize away from the horse ranch. She watches from a far, while our mama watches up close."

"Not this week, since mama is on vacation with A.J. in the country of..."

"And A.J. protects our mama with boot and gun. Man, Violet fell in love with the flaming flamboyant Flamingo, who was impulsive and spontaneous. Where's that boy now?"

He sneers. "Violet is a closed subject between me and you, Breck."

Breck lifts his hands and says with a nod. "Okay! All right! Understood!"

Cinco appears and stands inside the archway with a smile. "I'm back. Are you, girls being good in here?"

Flamingo frowns at Breck, "Yeah!"

Breck turns and smiles to Cinco. "We're talking about my truck and the terrain vehicle."

Flamingo spins around and points down at the tiny screen on his mobile telephone. "Naw! We're talking about visiting the bush plant-and-tree side with Mohawk Patch, on the eastern side. The graveyard is really located on the northwest side of the mountain. The old Trading Post is declared a historical land mark, one of the first shopping malls here in Alabama for the pioneers of Huntsville."

Breck frowns at the back spine on Flamingo. "Who told you that info?"

Flamingo spins around and stands between his two brothers, nodding with a smile. "Ville is the French pronunciation for a city. In sixth century France, twenty percent of towns ended with the suffix, ville. The French named their European towns from the combined landowner's name. The southern and western regions here within the USA presented the same popular suffix more than any other region here in America. The owner of the first ancient Trading Post was an Italian immigrant, who was named Marcus du Nucci."

Breck frowns. "Who told you that lie?"

Flamingo smiles, "Granddaddy Dunlap told me that truth."

Cinco frowns. "What does a 'du Nucci' mean in the Italian language?"

Breck laughs. "It's an unknown sur-name, who is a peasant or a poor man, who didn't want to be known as a thief."

Cinco frowns. "How does our Grandma Dunlap know that information?"

Flamingo smiles, "I did my homework first. After I found out that I had been accepted into the College Honor Challenge, I went to each home of my respectful and elderly family member collecting the old, ancient tales. And Grandfather Dunlap was the most helpful as he is smart and reads books and watches historical channels on the internet all the time."

The mobile telephone whistles with a duck call inside Breck's hand. He looks down and swishes the screen with a smile, reading out loud the text message from his grandmother. "Lunch is ready. Wash your face and hands first. Then come into the dining room."

The triplet brothers move down the hallway one-at-a-time turning into the dining room, expressing their greetings to their Grandmother McCory.

Cinco moves ahead and stops sliding down into an empty dining room chair on the side of the table next to his grandmother. Iredell McCory sits on the end piece and is surrounded by stacks of short papers, a plate of uneaten food, and a computer laptop. She possesses a tone of weathered dark skin, tons of wrinkles on her face, saggy skin on her arms and her exposed throat area, displaying a short hair bob in silver hue, a pair of blue eyeballs and wears a yellow tinted ankle-length, short-sleeved dress with row of colorful horizonal strips on the skirt fabric and a pair of naked feet. Her flat sandals were kicked out lounging behind her chair.

They sit around the table that exhibits a plate of steak, eggs, grits, and biscuits digging into the food.

Breck swallows the food and then smiles. "What are we doing today, Cinco?"

Cinco does not swallow his food but spits the chewed particles over his plate saying with a smile. "We're going quail or duck or rabbit hunting. Ain't that right, Grandmother McCory?"

"I wish, dear." She presses her index finger on the keyboard of her computer laptop at the breakfast table.

Breck frowns. "What's the matter, Grandmother?"

Cinco spits out his chewed food particles over his hands, his food plate, in the air, and on top of the naked wooden table. "You're working at the table, Grandmother. Mama doesn't allow work at the breakfast table, only eating at the table. Then, you can work on your electronic toys, after you finished eating. Ain't that right, Flamingo?"

At the dining room table, Flamingo is also working on his personal computer laptop, punching buttons, eating a forkful of grits.

Iredell looks up from the computer screen and frowns at each one of her grandsons. "The flock of old bats at the church thinks, maybe, I'm depressed about Unnamed Him. So, they have nominated me as the chairperson for the Revival Fire, which is the name of the revival activities at our church. That's starts..."

"Today!" Breck frowns.

She smiles. "Well, the week comprises of numerous revival activities but the actually revival event is Friday late afternoon, after all the folks get off work with dancing, singing, praying, and eating. The grand finale is Friday evening, before my bedtime at ten pm," she softly giggles.

Cinco frowns. "What is a Revival Fire?"

She smiles and nods. "I'm the new chairperson. So, the new chairperson has decided to hold a great big bonfire on Friday evening that fires up the dark sky all the way to heaven. That'll be fun, don't you think so, Cinco?"

"I think some of the younger does and bucks will be doing some firing stuff of their own in the darkness of the bonfire, Grandmother. I shore hope you got lots of chaperones for the teen-asses like Flamingo." Cinco laughs and spits out his chewed food particles again.

"That's a catchy name, Revival Fire, Grandmother," Breck smiles.

She exhales and stares down at the screen on the laptop. "Thank you, dear. I could really use some extra eyeballs, eardrums, and a good pair of boots, boys."

Cinco nods. "We're there for you, Grandmother.

Breck nods. "What do you need from us, Grandmother?"

She exhales. "Well, I need some strong arms and legs for chopping down and carrying wood kindling for the big bright bonfire. I was thinking about building a thirty-foot bonfire blaring up the night sky. Is that big enough, Flamingo?" Flamingo slowly eats and types on the keyboard of his laptop in silence.

Cinco elbows his brother and spits out his chewed food particles over his hands, his plate of food and the naked table, "Flamingo, Grandmother has asked you a question?"

Flamingo stares down into the tiny screen on his laptop. "Sorry, Grandmother. What's the question, please?"

She nods. "I'm chairperson of the revival and want to do a bonfire. How high should the bonfire be burning brightly in the sky?"

Flamingo types on the tiny screen and reads out loud the information. "A bonfire at the height of fifty feet would burn brightly for hours, Grandmother."

Breck whips out his mobile telephone and types on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the information on the screen, "Naw. That's too brightly and too highly. A bonfire reaches three times the stacked wood pile. Build the wooden limbs and staves at twenty-four feet high, which is four times the average height of a male. The plume will stream upwards seventy feet or so, Grandmother."

She types the new information in the laptop with a smile. "Thank you, Breck."

Cinco whips out his mobile telephone and types on the tiny keyboard, reading out loud the information on the screen. "Wow! Friday night is going to be a full moon too. The moon light will beam down on the river water. Woo!" He smiles. "I know. We can hold a bonfire in front of the river water and have three boats of fireworks for the grand finale of the Revival Fire, Grandmother."

"No, dear."

Breck continues to smile and reads out loud the information in the tiny screen. "A bonfire pit is a simple circular fire ring which people can sit around. A traditional round fire pit, such as this one, is a great place to socialize with friends. The round shape helps create a bonfire-like atmosphere by allowing people to gather around comfortably standing or sitting, not making out. When designing a fire ring for your home, think about how many people you would like to get around the fire pit. This will help you determine how big it should be. This particular fire pit is fueled by natural gas and filled with lava rocks. This type of fire pit is made with stones that will match the rest of the property. So, you could do at the edge of the river with an earthy feel surrounded by limestone boulders. And the flat boulders can be sitting pieces for the people."

Cinco laughs, "Great idea, Brick Brian. Who will be toting all of these heavy-ass tan colored solid rock boulders down towards the river bank?"

Breck laughs, "Flamingo!"

Flamingo looks up with a gasp. "What!"

Breck laughs and reads the information on the tiny screen, "Grandmother, you must lay down a set of bricks and build a five-inch trench with fresh water to prevent the fire from crawling away from its home."

"Thank you, Breck." She nods and types on the laptop.

Cinco smiles, "You know, we should produce a set of personalized gifts, such like, a long naked wooden table of tee shirts and home decor items for the upcoming holidays and special occasions. Then we could make money for the church, of course."

She smiles, "No, dear."

Cinco smiles, "I know. We could hold a bonfire competition and produce rows of baby fires on top of the red clay."

"No, dear," she exhales. "I am emailing the elders to start collecting wooden material for the bonfire, such like, wood boards, planks, old wooden doors, and anything else made of old wood."

Breck types on the keyboard and reads out loud the information the screen. "In the foreign country of Italy, a straw witch is dressed in a set of old clothes and then placed on top of the bonfire stack and then burned to ash, for fun. The burning straw-witch symbolizes the past yesterdays. The direction of the smoke drift indicates whether the upcoming new year is going to be good or..."

"No, dear," she types with a smile.

Cinco types on the keyboard of his mobile telephone and reads the new information out loud for each pair of eardrums. "A long time ago, in the city of Ancient Rome, all the young, stupid Romans, mostly the teen-ass males, would leap over a row of burning bundles of hay for fun during the holidays," he laughs with Breck.

She continues to type with a fake smile, "No, dear!"

Breck smiles, "Between the calendar dates of the thirty-first of October and the fifth of November, the British druid bonfire signified a religious event that burned the dead bones from all the slaughtered livestock which had been stored during the winter months. Then the people and their livestock walked through the two bonfires as a cleaning ritual of..."

"No, dear," she continues to type with a fake smile.

Breck smiles, "In the ancient cities, with the US State of New England, the people built a towering pyramid assembled from dead hogsheads and wooden barrels. They lit at nightfall to usher in the new celebration. The highest bonfires were seen in the city of Salem, within the US State of Massachusetts, composed of forty tiers of wooden barrels. These had been the tallest bonfires ever recorded in the history of America."

She looks up and smiles at each grandson. "A long time ago, a bonfire had been used on a farm in a large garden and allotted to dispose of waste plant material for compost. The ashes from the garden bonfire improved the soil structure."

Cinco smiles, "You got the bonfire structures worked out, Grandmother. Now, you need a center stage platform to worship the bonfire."

Breck looks down and chews the food while reading the information on the tiny screen. "The center stage needs to be designed with six platforms. Four of the platforms should by four by four in height and weight. Two of the platforms should be designed as three by four in height and width, respectively."

Cinco chews the food and continues to spit out food particles while talking. "An air-dried log is a dead standing log. A dead standing tree has died from natural causes, such like, a bug kill, a tree virus, a forest fire, and then it is cut down, after the tree is dead. A dead standing tree might be cut down within a month or after several decades after its tree death, so a dead standing tree does not mean that the log has dried down to equilibrium moisture content. A dead standing tree can be green colored or more-or-less dried out. Green does not refer to the color of the log but the moisture content. Each tree species, such like, cedar, fir, spruce, pine contains their own variety of moisture content," he swallows the lump of food.

Breck nods with a smile. "I'm impressed with your info, Cinco. Where did you learn that stuff? I know that you didn't read it from our school textbook."

Cinco smiles, "Naw! I learned it from Horace. He's a walking electronic disc full of forest lands, woodlands, and wild life information. He's a great mentor for the farm."

Flamingo continues to type on the keyboard of his laptop. "A set of red cedar wood log produces the prettiest red flames making both smelling good wood and an aesthetic appeal."

Cinco chews the food with a smile. "Flamingo's smart..."

"Smart ass," Breck looks down and mops up the food with his biscuit.

She types on the laptop with a smile. "I am emailing the lumber company to come and erect the center stage platform for the preaching service. Thank you, grandsons, for the new information."

Cinco spits out more food over the table with a smile. "We also need a musical band for musical music like a fiddler quartet and a rock and roll band and a country band and a jazz band for the elderly folks."

She continues to type on the keyboard and says with a smile. "A couple of sweet children's choir with a set of tiny voices is a must along with an instrumental trio of flute and string."

He continues to mouth spit his chewed food particles, since his mother Arie isn't here to correct his bad redneck ways. "Naw, Grandmother. You need some instruments with mighty power like a couple of electric guitars, drummers, and trumpets. I'd ask the director of the Lacy Springs marching band to set up two jazz musician ensembles. The musical ensemble includes saxophones, trumpets, trombones, electric guitars, electric bass guitars, drums, and electric piano. You know, I bet Brother Neap wants some music to calm his aching lungs, after singing Amen about three hundred and forty-seven times," he laughs with Breck.

"I'm doing that as we speak, grandson," she continues to type on the keyboard sending out an email, saying with a smile. "My, my, my, technology is wonderful."

Cinco nods. "No hard rock, punk, hip hop, ain't right, Breck? A live country band needs a big stage platform, Grandmother. A wooden stage about four feet high and eight feet wide will be just perfect, Flamingo?"

"Don't forget stage lighting to see Brother Neap sweat!" Breck laughs and stabs the fork into the eggs eating and chews the food.

She frowns. "Proper stage lightning requires an electrician and an operator for the electronic special effects. I do not want any lasers or fog machines or disco balls."

Breck swallows the food and frowns, "A disco ball! What the heck's a disco ball, Grandmother?"

She smiles. "A disco ball was a prop for dancing used in the 1970s. I'm dating my person, dear. No lasers either."

"Okay, string up a clothes line with all Christmas lights for both beauty and convenience, since the church has thousands and thousands of Christmas lights." Breck eats and chews the food.

Cinco mouth spits his chewed food particles in the air and on top of the naked wooden table. "That's not very effective in seeing a row of singers, Breck. Flamingo, what do we do about stage lighting?"

"Do it redneck style!" Flamingo types on the laptop with a smile while working on the outline for his College Honor Challenge.

"What is a redneck-style stage lightning, dude?" Cinco eats and then chews the food.

"Six rednecks with six powerful flashlights beaming up on Brother Neap's fat twin cheekbones upon the newly constructed wooden platform." He laughs and still types on the keyboard.

Cinco smiles with a set of red pepper food particles between each white molar, "Awesome, man! A high-powered fifty-watt emergency flashlight with a battery pack," he points the fork at Flamingo. "This is the man who will find a medical cure for all the deadly cancer cells."

She smiles. "Thank you, dear. Why are working at the dining table, Flamingo? What are you working on, honey?"

Flamingo looks up with a smile to see Iredell. "I'm working on my paper for the College Honor Challenge."

Breck frowns. "Do I need to remind that you are still in high school, like me and Cinco?"

Flamingo smiles, "I have completed thirty-two hours of the required one hundred and thirty-two..."

"...only a hundred more to go, Flamingo. O no! Right, so!" Breck laughs.

"The 132-college work course includes humanities of writing composition and literature, American and World history, social science, biology, chemistry, physics, organic chemistry, physical science, math and music..."

"Music!" Cinco frowns. "How do you receive a college credit for music?"

Breck reaches over and taps on the table laughing with a nod. "Like a seven-year-old Nature Scout, Flamingo will bang his ten finger pads like a monkey on his guitar in front of his advisor-dork..."

"... to be declared a sophomore, before I step a single nasty flip flop onto the Burn U campus," Flamingo nods with a smile.

"That's outstanding, Middle Child!" She smiles.

He nods. "Then, I can enter the pre-medical health academic career path for all health care professionals, including physicians. My pre-medical health advisor in the office of pre-medical health academics..."

"Pre-medicated his person and then died, because there ain't a medical doc at Burn U. Newsflash! Monday morning." Breck laughs.

Flamingo smiles, "Once I am accepted into the pre-medical health academic program, then I can accelerate my academic pathway..."

Breck swallows the food and wears a sour frown. "Bro, your upcoming college days are for fun, before you become an adult with non-fun responsibilities. You're pushing your carefree days into the toilet bowl which ain't pine-smelling clean. Slow down! Enjoy the roses, well, enjoy Violet."

Flamingo turns and sneers at Breck, jabbing his finger at his brother. "Lay off, Violet! Naw! Stop talking about my girl, Breck. You should never speak her name or think her name or dream her name. She's my girl."

Cinco frowns. "We all know that that old piece of dog shit, Flamingo. Stay cool, dude! Finish your breakfast. What else do you need, Grandmother?"

Flamingo exhales and then drops both of hands back down on the keyboard, typing out his outline. "I collected all the thirty-three semester hours from my set of Advanced Placement high school courses, passing my college level examination program, and even getting credit inside an international college program."

"International? You're not a foreigner. You're any American." Cinco laughs and spits out more food particles in the air and over the plate.

Flamingo nods. "Some money transactions are international, Cinco."

Breck smiles, "Our mama's money is American, man!"

Flamingo looks up and sneers at Breck. "What does Mama's money got to do with my present or upcoming academic grades? Nothing, asshole!"

Breck frowns. "Hmm! Thirty-three semester hours is three credit hours per class."

He smiles, "I also have college credit in the foreign language course..."

"What the fudge!" Breck frowns. "You don't speak a fucking foreign word from a fuckingly foreign language, Flamingo. How the hell did you get a college credit for nothing speaking a foreign word of a foreign language?"

Flamingo turns and winks at Breck, "Hola! Como estas? Ahora, chinga!"

Breck frowns. "Huh!"

Cinco laughs out loud and spits out his chewed food particles over the plate, his hands, and the table. "Flamingo, he told you: Hello! How are you doing? And to fuck off right now! All in the fuckingly Spanish words from the beautiful Spanish language."

Breck gasps. "What!"

Flamingo types on the keyboard on his laptop. "The elegant language of Spanish doesn't have a single verb-word for fuck like the creative vile Americans. The Spanish translation of chinga pretty much means, fuck you, Breck."

Iredell smiles. "The Spanish word, mierda, means shit."

Cinco laughs. "The Spanish word, polvo, means to have intercourse or have a fuck, like Breck used to do."

"No me chingues, Brick Brain! In the Spanish language, that means: Do not fuck with me, Brick Brain," Iredell chuckles.

Breck frowns. "Grandmother, why are laughing at the two amusing and abusing pair that are abusing me?"

She laughs. "Senor Cinco and Senor Flamingo both possess a set of granda los conjones. Or a macho teen male, who is very proud of his balls."

Breck gasps. "Grandmother McCory!"

She laughs. "O! Live a little. Love a little. And some have fun, Breck."

Cinco laughs. "Come mierda, the Spanish term means, a shit-eater."

"Gilipollas, the Spanish term means, a bastard." Flamingo laughs.

"Me cago en todo lo que se menea, which means in English, I shit on everything that moves." Cinco laughs.

Flamingo laughs. "La madre que to mama that translates into a motherfucker."

Cinco chews and swallows the food, pointing his fork at Flamingo, "Naw! It means literally: I shit on our mama. Stop bringing our mama into your vile Spanish conversation with Breck, Flamingo. Hijo de puta in Spanish and son of a bitch in American to you, dude!"

Flamingo frowns, "Tonto del culo! The English translation: You're an ass, Cinco!"

Iredell exhales with annoyance, "Enough, boys! Your playtime is over. What were we discussing before? O yes! A bonfire needs to be located in-between the vertical warehouse made of steel used for storing all the lawn equipment and one forklift and at the edge of the bricked patio near the fellowship hall. So, folks can run inside from the smoke inhalation before killing their set of healthy lungs," she softly chuckles with her grandsons.

Flamingo turns and nods to Iredell. "Grandmother, for me, to be accepted into School of Medicine at Burn U, based on a great grade point average, plus a recommendation from the school faculty membership, plus a set of elementary health related experience..."

"...like vomiting green puke up from drinking to many mugs of cold beer. Hell! I don't get sick, ever from drinking too much beer. Do you get sick with green vomit from too many mugs of cold beer, Breck?" Cinco smiles.

"I do not puke or vomit or upchuck up my used beer particles." Breck laughs.

Cinco laughs. "O! You get green snot coming down from a runny nose. I got that when I'm really sick with a common cold."

Flamingo exhales. "My future health related academic experience, when I march around behind a real physician inside a real hospital is called 'shadowing.'"

Breck winks at Cinco. "I like to shadow girls. Does that count towards my health in some way, Flamingo?"

Flamingo smiles, "My future health related experience is volunteering at the hospital and attending to sick folks."

Breck laughs. "And that's why I ain't going to become a doc to people or animals. I don't wanna kiss or wipe the buttonholes of sick peoples or animals," he views Cinco. "Are you still going to do that nasty thing, Cinco?"

Cinco sneers. "Shut the fuck up, Breck!"

Flamingo smiles, "And a health internship at a local hospital and passing the medical college admission test..."

She exhales. "Flamingo, dear, I have very good resources at the local hospital. And I am older and wiser. That's what parents and grandparents are for, dear. We, together, will help achieve all these activities and more. Don't sweat on the good table cloth!"

Flamingo looks down at the table and says with puzzlement. "There isn't a table cloth on top of the breakfast table, Grandmother."

She nods with a smile. "That's exactly my point. Back to business!"

Breck laughs, "Berrington!"

**Note: Sawyer, Gage, Mangrove, and Berrington are four non-related brothers that star in** _The Quartet_ **novel series by ipam, where the four billionaires reside in hot sizzling Miami, Florida and suddenly become a quartet of red, white, and blue colored crime fighters without real guns and monies, without a silk cape, except for a silly Tom Sawyer.**

Tom insists upon wearing one all the time, until Berrington punches the nose bridge on his baby brother Sawyer into obeying, like usual.

Franklin Ferdinand Mangrove, the third, is a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the peaceful neighbor of Austin.

Stuart Thant Gage, the third is a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the protective neighbor of Austin.

Thomas Edison Sawyer, the third, is a life-time brother, a permanent business partner, and the troublesome neighbor of Austin.

Austin Bartholomew Berrington, the fourth, is a life-time brother, a permanent business partner and the leader of the Quartet.

The four men (Austin, Stu, Frank, and Tom) call themselves the "Band of Brothers," but they are not biological siblings. Instead, they are "blood" brothers.

Their four non-related biological great grandfathers, in the year 1838, formed the first eternity "bond" of human red blood as a set of four young teens. The four young teens lived among the wild farmlands and wilder forests of northern Florida near the spouting town of Tallahassee, the current state capital of Florida.

Mangrove, the first moved as a teenager from his native country of Spain with his favorite stallion and the other barn animals to the new land of America, where his father worked as an animal veterinarian and occasionally a human physician inside a rural countryside township.

Gage, the first was shipped as a slave from his home land of Africa, working on one of many southern cotton plantations, where he had escaped and headed to the wild and free lands of Florida. He bartered his new skills as a farmer inside the same rural countryside township.

Sawyer, the first came from German royalty, but he was determined to rule his own destiny in the New World rather in the Fatherland, leaving behind his royal family members and his royal family fortune. He became the rural countryside township's mayor.

Berrington, the second traveled inside a wooden ship over the Atlantic Ocean with the other poor peasants from Great Britain, seeking freedom from British prosecution in the new land of America, expanding his trade-ship as a blacksmith inside the same rural countryside township.

Back inside the dining room table, in his chair, middle triplet brother Flamingo laughs, "Sawyer!"

"Gage!" Cinco smiles.

Breck frowns. "Gage, he does not, has not ever, and will not ever say that phase, Cinco."

Cinco nods. "Yeah, Gage does."

Flamingo nods. "No. Gage does not. Sawyer, he said it one time, when Austin was out of the office and he was put in charge of their billion-dollar business venture."

Cinco frowns, "Where? When? How? What? I don't remember reading that. Show me! Show me in the book. I got all the novels inside my bedroom. Show me where Sawyer said that, Flamingo!"

Breck frowns. "Where is location of each Quartet novels at?"

"Each novel is located inside my bedroom and underneath my bed mattress," Cinco nods.

Iredell nods with a smile. "I enjoyed reading all of the action, death, sex, and romance from each Quartet novel too. So, back to the business, boys! Back to the bonfire!"

Breck frowns. "When is the last Quartet novel coming out? Have you heard?"

Cinco frowns. "Naw. Don't know."

Flamingo looks up and smiles at Iredell. "Grandmother, have you ever heard of the Yazoo Tribe?"

She frowns, "Yazoo Tribe."

Flamingo nods. "A Native American tribe from the US State of Mississippi, they are considered a missing link between the Meso-American tribe in Mexico and the numerous American Frontier Native Indian tribes here. The Meso-American tribe is famous for barbequing each virgin maiden on top of that tall ziggurat building structure during the reign of the vicious Mayans from the country of Mexico. I'm trying to link them within my paper for the College Honor Challenge."

"O! That's why Flamingo hasn't fucked his girl Violet. He just wants to sacrifice her virgin body to the food gods for fool's gold." Breck laughs. Cinco chews his food and wears a sour frown.

She removes her eyeglass and cleans the glass, wearing a sour frown. "Boys, going behind Arie's back, I have allowed you to act like three savages, cuss like three sailors, drink beer like three alcoholics, and kill small animal like three pioneers to elevate and then vent out all your penned-up frustrations and fears in the celebration of the three dead Unnamed Individuals. Now, that event happened last month. But, as Almighty God, Brother Jesus, and heavenly Angels are all my witnesses, I will not tolerate trash talking about other nice people, especially nice descent folks around our little town, Breck."

Breck looks down and stares at his empty plate. "Yes ma'am."

Cinco smiles at Iredell. "Grandmother, you have two sets of bonfires, one blazing in yellow from the fresh cut green limbs towards heaven. The other blazes from the red cedar wood in tall red fire towards the heaven like its coming up from hell. Brother Neap would love it. Then you set the two different colors on each side of the platform, where Brother Neap will preach. And then you make three piles of bonfires on each side of the stage forming a fiery triangle. A tiny little one would be near the platform stage, where the daring and darling little kids don't catch fire and burn in it like a baby hell. A great, big giant one on the outer edge, within an invisible triangle of ninety-degree angle, will be perpendicular to the center stage platform while kinda surrounding the audience. And a medium sized in the middle, the three piles on each side of the stage will provide by light and heat like a shiny star from heaven."

She nods. "Cinco, that's a brilliant idea, grandson. Thank you. And thank you, Flamingo and Breck, for your wonderful advice about constructing and maintaining a bonfire. I am quick with my fingers and finished typing all your ideas into my laptop," she stands with a smile. "I'm going to visit the revival committee telling them about my new ideas," she winks. Cinco chews the food. Breck nods with a smile in silence. Flamingo types on the computer. Iredell exhales. "Now, you, boys try to be good for the day. I'm come home and see ya'll for suppertime," she spins around with a smile sliding on her sandals and slowly exits the dining room in silence for her parked car in front of the house for the church meeting.

Inside the dining room table, Cinco waves his arm in the air and shows his teeth of chewed food particles. "Bye, grandmother," then he reaches over and elbows Flamingo. "Say, good bye to our grandmother!"

"Bye," Flamingo continues to type on the laptop.

Breck smiles, "Bye, Grandmother!"

Cinco swallows the food and wipes his dirty mouth with his forearm, burping out loud from the "Where are we going now, Flamingo?"

Flamingo gently closes the lid on the laptop and smiles at Breck. "We're going to the old Trading Post on Highway 36."

"Goody-goody! I wanted to go there anyways," Cinco swiftly stands with a smile and spins around to face the open archway. "I'll be back in a moment. Don't leave with me! I'm riding in the truck with you, Breck. Don't leave without me! I gotta go and get dressed for our hunting excursion. I'll be really quick," he exits the dining room and shouts out loud. "Don't leave without me, Breck!"

"Why, Flamingo? What for?" Breck continues to sit and frowns at Flamingo.

Flamingo stands upright from the chair and smiles. "I gotta create a physical storyline, not just a set of slim, skinny facts. I hope to find something out there that will support my College Honor Challenger research paper. Are you coming with me and Cinco?"

Breck continues to sit and exhales with a sour frown. "Yeah, I'm coming and carrying Cinco's dead quail for today's supper meal."

Flamingo exits first from the dining room and moves toward his personal bathroom dressing for the new outdoor adventure with his two entertaining brothers.

At 02:10 pm, in the heated day with bright sunlight, Flamingo dashes from down from the staircase and wears his infamous clothing style with his black-tinted school backpack and his nasty flip-flops moving through the house, hitting the kitchen door and leaves it open for his two brothers. He enters the setting garage and rushes ahead towards his red tinted sports car, opening the door, sliding down into leather seat and cranks the engine while allowing the cold motor to warm-up. He slowly rolls the car forward as he parks his vehicle ass-backwards into his designated fourth concrete door space within the six-car garage building that is attached to the house.

Arie parks her pickup-truck first on top of the concrete slab inside the garage slot. A.J.'s pickup truck is next beside Breck's pickup truck, then Flamingo's sports car, and Cinco slides his motorcycle into the sixth space. His motorcycle is always dirty with hard splattering of dried red mud and brown tree tinted dead leaves.

Inside the home garage, Flamingo slowly inches the vehicle forward over the concrete slab and carefully drives over the yellow brick on top of the private drive on his home. He stops at the end of the long driveway and looks both ways at the cross roadway, slowly turns his car into an eastern direction, moving ahead onto _State Road 36_. Then he slams his flip flop down on the gasoline pedal and the clutch pedal at the same time while in first gear speeding down the public county road singing with laughter and shoves into second gear moving away from his house. He guns the powerful engine towards the first stop sign and then slows down to twenty miles-per-hour slowly rolling through the stop sign on purpose without any traffic. He sails through first traffic light passing Lacy Springs High School on a summertime-like afternoon steering towards the intersected two roadways at _State Road 36_ and _Telephone Tower Road_.

No other driver really drives on the newly paved street extension from the old roadway on _Telephone Tower Road_ as it crosses over a dangerous mountain pass at a height of 1,000 feet. Some of the teen girls get scared, not Flamingo.

He roars over the roadway and follows the pavement on _Telephone Tower Road_ heading due east, veering the car towards the south, spinning his car into a sharp left turn onto _Nappiers Lane_ , without a traffic light or any additional vehicles. Flamingo or all the other natives of Lacy Springs do not travel this specific road for any reason but sneaking into the woodlands to drink alcohol or trespass for some shitty fun with wild girls or wild animals.

The land owner carefully watches for that kind of stupid teen-ass shit. If you get caught, then Sheriff Tommy Lee will allow the rightful land owner to determine the appropriate redneck punishment for a minor teen-ass crime.

Flamingo speeds northwards up the road for another mile and down the mountain summit for two more miles quickly blowing through the planted stop sign crossing the highway and then slams down on the brake pedal while rearing his car to the left. He laughs and steers ahead slowly pulling onto an old but smooth gray tinted parking lot. He slowly eases his sports car towards one of many empty parking and parks in a vertical position near the entrance door. Flamingo smiles and kills the engine thinking about at his brilliant plan for his brilliant paper on the College Honor Challenge and then he exits from the car.

Trading Post setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

Parking lot setting

02:16 pm

Flamingo stands upright in place and slams the door without locking it, scanning a short, squat log building, "A lovely sight of prettiest red cedar wood logs in Alabama," he whips out his mobile telephone and fiddles with the screen, pressing the record button, slamming the screen on the phone into his lips. He surveys the new landscape and narrates into the speaker on the mobile telephone. "My research goes back to the year 1763, when the Native American Yazoo Indian tribe lived and thrived here in the ancient territory of Lacy Springs. Back then, like now, the sky is pale blue in hue. The breeze is light. The heat is hot. The Brindlee Mountain plateau glows in pink hue. The flat land is green and fertile thriving in plants, colorful wildflowers, and red tinted soil. In the center of the Yazoo village, an ancient pioneer trading post stands which symbols the exchange of goods and goodwill between the two nations, red face and pale face. The trading post is small in height. A single-story structure wears a sky electric blue colored tin metal roof that slopes down over a whitish-silver limestone smooth rock foundation that represents a flat and long front porch. The log construction is made from cut red cedar rounded logs coming from the surrounding woodland forests, a true Alabama native treasure like an agate rock from the fresh water pond that becomes a dazzling agate gem stone..."

From the smooth gray tinted highway, a white colored pickup truck stops at the stop sign and then slowly turns from the roadway, rolling over the same empty parking lot and halts parking a few empty slots beside the red tinted sports car. Breck and Cinco slide out from the truck and slam each door shut, moving ahead with a stern face, scanning the familiar landscape with a new pair of eyeballs.

Cinco scoots closer and smiles at the back spine on Flamingo. "Who are you talking to, Flamingo? I don't see anyone near you, but me. Aw! You have met the ghosts. Is it a she-ghost or a he-ghost? I always wanted to meet a she-ghost."

Flamingo continues to slowly pace around the empty parking lot with Cinco on his butt-hole while speaking into his mobile telephone. "I am vocally composing visual and reference notes for my research paper as we scout around the grounds and the woodlands here at the Trading Post. This method is a faster, efficient product. I type out my research from verbal words and I also practice reading out loud for my oral presentation in class, and then I win it all," he laughs alone.

Breck slowly moves around the empty parking lot a few feet away from Flamingo and wears a sour frown heading towards the cool interior of the Trading post from the bright sunlight, "Whatever! I'm going ahead and getting out of the hot sunlight." He enters the air-conditioned building and holds the door open for his brother.

At 02:20 pm, Cinco enters the interior of the trading post room and follows behind Breck with a smile, "Cookies!" He spots the dessert tray and quickly struts ahead towards a small square table, sliding down into an empty hard wooden chair. Breck moves ahead into the small room with a smile in silence.

A tall middle-aged woman slowly approaches Breck standing in the middle of the square-shaped single room. "Welcome to the Trading Post! I am..." She turns and gasps in shock. "Young man, you...you have eaten all the cookies from that dessert ray. These cookies had been donated for each visiting guest here at the Trading Post," she frowns at Cinco.

Cinco nods to the clerk and then looks around, mouth spitting the chewed cookie crumbs, holding three cookies in each palm. "Where are the guests here at the Trading Post? How many guests does the Trading Post receive on a Sunday afternoon? Are they in hiding or shitting in the bathroom?" He scans the single room and then gasps in alarm. "Is there a bathroom for shitting out a turd or two from my butt-hole? After I eat, I like to go and shit."

The middle-aged woman exhales with annoyance from the young teen and turns to smile at Break. "Welcome to the Lacy Springs Trading Post! Do you have a question about the historical purpose of a trading post?"

Breck scoots around and admires the wall. Each wall is comprised of rough logs in red cedar along with the floor and the arched ceiling. In one wall corner, a horizontal glass counter holds numerous jewelry items. He slides over the counter and admires the stones.

The clerk slowly moves ahead and follows the back spine on Breck while narrating the story. "A trading post or a trading station or a trading house, these are some known names for a place where goods are traded, such like, the establishment here in Lacy Springs and throughout historical continental Northern America."

Breck continues to stand at the counter and then gasps in alarm, whispering for his eardrums only. "A set of blue agate jewelry set is missing from the display case." He sneers. "So, this is the place, where Unnamed Him purchased the blue agate jewelry for my mama. She needs to donor that set of jewelry to one of the local charities. Or I can return it back here as a donation for the cause."

The clerk slowly shuffles around the room. "Usually a trade route by feet or horses to a trading post was known as a trade route for both the sellers and the buyers. And a trading post was a hot space for gossip and news exchange of the current happenings within the world for each visitor also as a newspaper document did not exist. Some of the modern-day cities once started out a wooden or cloth-draped trading post, such as, Venice, New York City, Shanghai, Singapore, Hong King, Naples, Rotterdam, Kansas City..."

Cinco continues to sit in the chair and burps out loud with a smile, wiping a dirty mouth with the back of his hand, pointing down at the empty food platter. "That tray of delicious cookies came from Miss Doty's Baker Store here in Lacy Springs. She's a great cookie maker and baker. Do you have a carton of milk for sell here inside the store, ma'am? I'm suddenly very thirsty right now, ma'am."

Breck back steps from the glass counter with a smile and continues to stroll around the single room building with a set of arched wooden rafters.

The clerk spins around from Breck and slowly moves back to another glass counter with a modern-day cash register for merchandise purchases and stops thumbing back behind her collar bone at a row of modern-day glass covered refrigerators. "Sir, we have an array of modern-day refreshments, if you desire to purchase one. Like during the ancient trading post Lacy Springs when the early settlers would purchase snacks, souvenirs, and other items."

Cinco stands upright from the chair and continues to eat each cookie with a nod, "Hey, Breck! Come over here and pay for me four pints of tiny milk bottles. My hands are full," he stops and stands in front of the counter, chomping on the cookies.

Breck spins around with a smile, moves back to the counter, and stops whipping out his wallet, paying for the items.

The clerk swings around with a sour frown and grabs each item spinning back with a smile. "The amount is ten dollars, sir." Breck pulls out the bills and hands to the clerk with a nod.

The door slides open.

At 02:24 pm, Flamingo enters the air-conditioned room and stops, still speaking into his mobile telephone, scanning the interior of the ancient trading post. His backpack drags behind his collar bone and as he whispers into the phone. "Inside the ancient pioneer trading post, the square footage is five square feet which barely holds a complete living room consisting of a sofa, a loveseat, two chairs, and a lounge chair. The Lacy Springs Trading Post preserves the historic, handmade log construction but displays modern overhead lightning lamps and an indoor bathroom facility. Over the years, each cut log had to be chinked and then realigned back into a straight formation and then reinforced with insulation from the cold weather to preserve the wood and kill the spider nests. The stone foundation was powered cleaned to a shine between springtime and wintertime, making the limestone bedrock glitter like an ancient silver dollar. The imprecise nature of the hand-hewn red cedar logs pays virtue to the workmanship and tradition of first settlers here in the great State of Alabama." He turns to face the wall with a narrow hallway of bright lights and slowly moves through entering a new room and then stops, standing with a smile in front of the side wall of raw cut logs.

The gigantic television plasma displays a colored picture of a cedar wood log cabin with a tin metal rooftop. The voice of the tenor speaking narrator echoes throughout the enclosed room. "On top of the tiny log cabin, a tin metal roof was erected. The tin metal was durable, beautiful, and helped with containing the heat inside the small home structure. Each interior log wall was hand-constructed with numerous cut red wooden planks, dried reddish-brown mud, and array of glittering agate rocks. An agate rock, back then and today, is decorated in a swirling pattern of horizontal strips or circular patches of orange, yellow and brown hue that compliments Mother Nature's work. Each log cabin possessed a gray tinted limestone chimney in the middle of the room for both warmth and beauty. On the exterior of the red colored log cabin, a piece of cut wood was not airtight from nasty bugs, weather elements of rain, sunshine, snow, and heat. Thus, each cut wood was chinked or caulked with mud and other minerals. Finally, the present term 'log cabin' is used to describe a rustic log house in the woods for hunting or a summer cottage for a getaway vacation..."

At 02:26 pm, inside the interior room, the trading post clerk places the four items on top of the glass counter in front of Cinco wearing her fake smile in silence.

Cinco continues to eat the handful of the cookies and then wipes his dirty hand on his black colored jeans, pulling out the item, placing it on top of the counter.

The clerk looks down and then gasps in shock, reaching for the item. "Is that...?"

"...a Confederacy dollar," Breck looks down and gasps in shock at the item also. Cinco swallows the lump of chewed cookie crumbs and nods in silence, drinking the milk.

The clerk snatches the bill and examines the contents with a gasp without words.

Breck laughs. "Did we hit gold?"

Cinco swallows the milk and smiles, "Naw. We hit paper."

The clerk smiles with a nod. "This is a piece of confederate money. The Confederate money shows the drawing of Lucy Pickens, who was the wife of Francis W. Pickens, who was the governor of South Carolina from the years 1860 to 1862. The Confederate cabinet member George Randolph is located on the right side on the paper. And two Confederate soldiers are hand drawn on the lower left. This is a fascinating glimpse into America's history.

"This is a worthless glimpse into Alabama history." Breck frowns.

The clerk waves the bill in the and wears a smile. "No! This piece of dirty paper was once used by every Civil War soldier and southern citizen during the tragic era within America. This dirty piece of paper is far from worthless. I believe the price range is about hundred dollars for the most common to the tens of thousands for the rarest pieces of bill papers."

"Really!" Breck gasps.

She nods with a smile. "When the War Between the States started in the year 1861, the South printed their own money and then established their own Confederate government, since they had succeeded from the USA. If the South had won the Civil War, then the Confederate money bills could have been converted into bars of gold which would have become the newest currency within the new Confederate Nation. The first note was issued on the first of April in the year 1861. The Government of the Confederate States of America hand-signed and numbered ever single paper issue of Confederate money. You sometimes can see the rough borders coming from the scissors slice or shears that cut each large paper sheet of money while making the quality of each Confederate note a good investment. However, counterfeiting methods created massive inflation on each local price of merchandise, while the North had printed out all the fake money bills."

Breck nods with a laugh. "So, the Old South and all the old southern gentlemen really lost the Civil War from boxes of fake money, not guts of arrogance."

"At the end of the Civil War, each Southern was burning their accumulated stacks of Confederate currency thinking it worthless," she scoots over and types on the laptop, waving the bill near her smile. "I am searching through the current categories of the ancient confederate bills. I might be able to tell you the worth or worthless value," she stops and reads out loud from the computer screen. "This is Confederate two-dollar bill. There is a very usual tale about two soldiers coming from a different side of the war, who would individually fill up an empty canteen at the same local water hole and lightly chit-chat and then go back to the field battle and start shooting at each other."

"What is the money value amount on the Confederate two-dollar bill?" Breck smiles.

She frowns at Cinco and waves the bill in the air. "Where did the Confederate two-dollar bill come from?"

Cinco laughs. "My great-great-great grandfather was a Confederate soldier. He gave it to his son, who gave it to his son, who gave it to his son, who gave it to his son, who gave it to me."

Breck turns and gasps at the nose profile on Cinco as he does not know where the piece of currency came from either.

She nods and then looks down at the computer screen, reading out loud the new information for all eardrums, waving the bill in the air. "This particular Confederate money note was issued in the year 1862, from Richmond, Virginia, which was the new capital of the Confederacy. In the center of the paper, there is an image of a woman, who is killing a man. That represents the South who is striking down the Yankees."

Cinco laughs. "That didn't work or go well either!"

She continues. "The number 76 New York located on the bill represents a famous battle regiment that fought at the Battle of Gettysburg. The drawn picture is Judah Benjamin, a cabinet member from the Confederacy government. So, this is a Judah Benjamin deuce."

Breck gasps. "Is Judah Benjamin deuce worth more than two US dollars?"

She looks up with a smile to see Breck. "Yes, the ancient bill is definitely associated with the Battle of the Gettysburg, so it is worth two hundred dollars."

Cinco slaps his chest and knocks off more cookie crumbs with a smile. "Give me cash right now!"

She looks down with a frown at the computer screen, "Hmm! The computer screen tells me also. There is an old ancient rumor that runs around here at Lacy Springs. A lost Confederate cache that has never found or identified lies somewhere buried with golden bars inside a cave..."

"Well, a legend always starts with a tiny grain of truth which is passed down from generation to generation and then is greatly exaggerated into an embellishment of fantasy," Breck laughs.

Cinco smiles with a nod. "So, we will take the two-hundred-dollars cash."

She looks up and frowns. "I don't know if can give you two-hundred-dollars cash. The trading post needs the extra profit from the sale of the wonderful Confederate bill to continue the operation on the store proper."

"I understand," Breck nods. "Please give each one of us a ten-dollar bill for the purchase of the Confederate two-dollar bill. You can keep the Confederate bill for display or sell it to the highest bidder here at the Trading Post."

"Breck!" Cinco turns and frowns at his brother.

Breck leans over and hugs his brother, smiling at the clerk with a nod. "Cinco, my brother is so happy to agree with my decision. How's that, ma'am?"

She bounces up and down with a smile. "Yes, yes, that's wonderful decision. Thank you so much! I might take your advice and display the Confederate two-dollar bill which will bring in more visitors," she reaches down and puts out two ten-dollar bills and hands to Breck.

Breck accepts the money and give one to Cinco. "Yeah, that's great, ma'am. Well, this adventure has been fun. We're going to explore the rest of the place," he spins Cinco around and then shoves the back spine on his brother forward, smiling at the clerk. "Have a nice day, ma'am!"

She continues to stare down at the bill with a smile. "Yes, yes, I will."

Cinco moves into the narrow hallway and carries the last carton of milk, saying with a sour frown. "Why didn't you take the two-hundred-dollar cash money for that one really, real Confederate bill?"

Breck pulls up and moves beside Cinco. "Where did you get that real Confederate bill?"

"O!" He laughs. "I found it."

Silence invades the hallway.

Breck moves down the hallway with Cinco and then exhales with annoyance. "Where did you find that real Confederate bill?"

He sips the milk and then burps out loud for fun. "I found a real Confederate bill on the cave floor."

"What cave floor?"

He laughs. "On Saturday pm, me and you went treasure hunting and ended up inside that dark cave."

Breck gasps. "No. I ended up almost dying inside that quicksand pit that was located at the end of that dark cave."

He smiles. "Yeah, that same quicksand pit and that same cave."

Breck frowns. "Cinco, I knew that I was inside same quicksand pit. Where and when did you find the Confederate bill inside the dark cave?"

He grins. "After I have saved your life, where you did not thank me..."

"I did so."

He smiles. "As we were leaving the quicksand pit, you were ahead of me inside that dark cave. Then I stomped down on a piece of paper and stopped, picking it up, seeing that it was a dollar bill. Yeah, I thought you might have dropped it outta of your personal money wallet. Then I realized it was a real Confederate dollar on the floor of the cave. There might be more in there."

"Why didn't you tell me about your fantastic find?"

"You were already really pissed off and mad at the quicksand trap, so I didn't want you to become upset anymore. There might be more real Confederate bills there inside that dark cave. We could leave and go..."

"No go! O no! I am not going back to that same dark cave for any reason. You go and take Flamingo, without me. Maybe, he and you can find that caches of lost money."

"Do you see? I thought you would be upset, back then, and like, right now. Okay!" Cinco rushes ahead with laughter and leaves Breck behind.

At 02:31 pm, inside the log cabin interior room, Flamingo continues to stand and records the tenor voice on the narrator from the television program, turning to view the rear door, spinning around with a smile. He moves ahead, stops, and stands inside the open archway on rustic log cabin. The cabin faces due north without a side or rear door for an exit escape from an indoor fire. He frowns. "Why would the Fire Marshal not cite the city for the oversight?" He shakes his ass-backwards cap and moves ahead, sitting down inside one of the numerous rocking chairs, pulling out his laptop. He activates the machine and starts typing on the keyboard while narrating out loud his words. "Deep in the brown sleeping woodlands, there lies a single log cabin, a tiny red house. The side home displays rows of wild rose bushes in the colors of yellow, pink, and red which bloom during the mild spring weather towards early winter. The single room feels chapel-like without a window and enclosed with four red colored log walls. There is a tiny sleeping loft that is elevated on four thick red cedar vertical cut logs with a homemade ladder standing in the middle of loft frame..."

Inside the narrow hallway, Cinco loudly stomps down the wooden floor in his pair of black biker boots and slowly drinks each carton of milk shouting out loud with a smile. "Where are you located at, Flamingo? I saw you come down this hallway. What's down here? Hey, Flamingo! Are you alive down there? Did a hunger bear eat you up, yet?" He drinks the milk.

Breck smiles in silence and slowly strolls behind the back spine on Cinco.

Cinco enters the room and hears the television screen, seeing a tiny room of more red cedar cut logs with a short stool and a low eating table, hearing the tiny taps. He moves ahead, stops, and stands inside the archway shouting with a smile, "Hey, Flamingo! What are you doing out here? Are you finished with your one-thousand-word paper? Good! Can we go quail hunting now?"

At 02:38 pm, on the front porch of the log cabin, within the heated day and bright sunlight, Flamingo continues to sit in the rocking chair and saves his electronic work closing the laptop, placing the devise back down into his backpack. He slowly stands from the rocking chair and reaches down into the pocket on his backpack, pulling out a paper map, reading the direction. "No, I am not finished here." He slowly flips-flops ahead and moves off the front porch over the smooth short pavement, then the manicured grass, and finally into a plot of high yellow and green weeds, pointing at the open field of dirt and more weeds. "We need to head in the direction of..."

Breck dashes out from the open archway inside the log cabin, pulls up beside Flamingo, and then stops, staring at the mountain range in the north, saying with a smile. "Whoa! That sight is beautiful."

The northern horizon is filled with a solid view of tall, rugged brown tinted rock mountains that wear on each side numerous groves of lush green forests and brown tinted trees with a pink tinted capstone on top above the white colored clouds within the pale blue skyline that shines from the yellow sunlight.

Cinco races ahead from the log cabin, pulls up beside Breck, and then stops, staring at the same mountain range, saying with a grin. "Wow! That's the massive Brindlee Mountain range that runs tall hills and mountains into five different counties. The pink cap glows underneath the sunlight."

Flamingo moves ahead and reads the map while talking into the speaker box on his mobile telephone.

Breck dashes ahead and pulls up beside Flamingo, staring down at a piece of wrinkled yellow tinted paper, asking with puzzlement. "What's that, Flamingo? Is that another stolen treasure map?"

Cinco races ahead and pulls up beside Breck, staring down at the low-lying bushes for a wild animal nest without seeing the old paper map. "Naw!"

Flamingo smiles and continues to move through the plot of weeds staring down at the yellow piece of paper, "Yeah! Do you remember that yellow tinted, torn map that came from Grandmother McCory? That tore paper map had been used for Unnamed Him that we never mention anymore, when we had explored the flat summit peak on Mohawk Patch. But we did that first. That was a torn, ripped, three-fourths of an old map. The other one-fourth part of that same ripped map matches perfectly with this new treasure map that Grandpa Dunlap had given me. Now, this new ripped up yellow colored ancient land map shows me the Yazoo Land which had been and still is owned by various families from here within the great State of Alabama. The rugged territory of Alabama didn't become a state until the year 1819." He points to the lush woodlands in the far distance. "In the year 1793, all these woodlands, trees, grasslands, and scrubs was a big plot of forest with cougars, deer, bears..."

"...and snakes..." Breck laughs.

Cinco wipes his mouth with the back of his hand while removing the milk mustache and then purposefully slams the same hand into the rear skull on Breck for shitty fun.

Breck gasps and shouts out loud. "Hey!"

Cinco laugh and moves with Flamingo. "Hay is for a jackass. Pay attention, Breck!"

Breck frowns. "O! Flamingo needs help to get into college. I thought you were smart enough to pass all your high school courses. I guess not," laughing.

Cinco looks up and smiles at the pink tinted Brindlee Mountain plateau. "Where are going? What are we doing?"

Breck leans over and cuddles his brother Cinco, exhaling with fun. "Right now, we, three are walking and talking due north away from the ancient pioneer Trading Post which is located on the county street of Nappiers Lane, since the year whatever. The plot of land is filled with dried dirt and tall weeds, since it hasn't rained here for four months. The sky is pale blue and heated. We are walking ahead towards more dry soil and high weeds. In front of us, we can see over there. The Brindlee Mountain range is an isolated portion of the Appalachian Plateau here in the cow town of Lacy Springs within northern Alabama, where Almighty God decided to paint in pink sandstone for some glorious reason. The sandstone is covered in limestone rock and stands 1,322 feet high up into the pale blue skyline. Between the solid rock mountain walls, _Cooter Terrell Spring_ , a branch of fresh water, flows south coming from the _Dry Creek Spring_ water branch, which runs parallel in-between two more solid rock mountain walls also. Down south of us, we will run through more dry soil, tall weeds, and the pond water that comes from another fresh water spring which is called _Henderson Creek_. Back towards the Trading Post, if we head due east, we run into more dry soil, tall weeds, and _Dry Creek Spring's_ water also. As we walk ahead, not passing the wide and tall Brindlee Mountain range, we will run into more dry soil, tall weeds, and Givens Branch of fresh pond water. Does that answer your numerous questions, young sir? And I don't fuckingly know what we are doing here? And I do not fuckingly give a shit," he laughs.

Cinco laughs and shoves Breck from his face.

Flamingo continues to shuffle over the dirt and weeds scouting the landscape, wearing a sour frown. "I have received three academic scholarships, smart ass. This is for all my additional college credits, so I can graduate from college early and enter directly into Burn U School of Medicine. Then I'll graduate at the age of twenty-three and open my private practice saving lives of children, adults, and elderly."

"Why would you wanna miss out on all the fun in college with freedom, free girls and free beer, bro?" Breck frowns.

Flamingo turns and faces due south while reading the original yellow stained paper map, holding the paper below his nostrils.

Cinco turns and scans the landscape saying with puzzlement. "What are we looking for, Flamingo? That's the wrong question. Can we eat some lunch, first, Flamingo? Then we can come back and look for what you're looking for to get into college, so you can become a doctor?"

Flamingo frowns. "No."

He turns and smiles at the nose profile on Breck. "O! Can I eat some lunch, first, Breck?"

"Go and get your shotgun, Cinco! We'll eat fresh quail for supper tonight with Grandmother McCory." Breck smiles and leans over slapping the bicep on Cinco.

Cinco halts and pulls out his hand gun from the backpack near his smile. "I'm ready."

The three brothers stomp in a row through the tall weeds and pad ahead towards the northern horizon viewing the massive Brindlee Mountain which blocks any footpath or vehicle pathway to the opposite side. The autumn weather is dry without any normal or abnormal downpours of rain thunder showers which would revive the dry bed creating fertile red clay and flower seed coming from the sleeping flora.

Flamingo continues to move ahead and snaps pictures of the landscape, whispering into the speaker box on his mobile telephone for his oral presentation.

Breck whips out his mobile telephone and lifts the devise, snapping photographs of Flamingo, recording the narration of Flamingo's words for a certain, not helpful purpose.

Cinco moves along the line of brothers and continues to squat down in the weeds, searching underneath the long row of low-lying plant bushes, standing upright from the dirt. His head hits the tree branch. He reaches up and touches the fruit, grabbing the pear and then gasps in shock, "Hey, Flamingo! Look over here! I see a grove of live and edible fruit trees over here."

Breck stops and turns with a smile, viewing the grove of trees. "Yeah, I can a pear tree, a wild plum tree, and a crab apple tree that would be..."

Flamingo halts and spins around with a smile, rushing ahead, and then stops, pointing to the shade area. "Look over here! I see clearly a flat plot of land for a set of children to engage and play like an outside pioneer playground. I see rows of pear trees and plum trees and crab apple trees that outline a cleared plot of land. This is it. I found it. I found...

"A logical and perfect setting for a pioneer log cabin, yeah, you did." Breck scratches his whiskers. "I know that too. All Native American Indians lived in a tepee."

Flamingo continues to slowly pad ahead and snaps pictures on his phone surveying the landscape for his paper. "The first encounter with the Yazoo Indian tribe had been with a set of European explorers, in the year 1541, which was headed by sea explorer Captain Hernando de Soto, who also founded the beach town of Mobile here in Alabama. Over the next centuries, the Yazoo Indian tribe fought and warred with hostile neighbors, such like, the Chickasaw and the Choctaw tribes from territories of Mississippi and Alabama. Their prehistoric people had been a metropolis when the culture was compared to the barbaric Choctaw. The village lifestyle encompassed maize farm crops, hierarchical political structure, mussel shell cooking pots and pans for both farmsteads and residential family consisted of 260 cabins, not cloth teepees. Over the decades, the centralized Yazoo town also established a defensive fort and row of water or dirt ditches from all the local warring tribes for personal body protection. There had been grave plots as well for the dead warriors."

Cinco stands and faces the woodlands sniffing the air, saying with a smile. "Look at the cluster of red cedar trees that make the forest red hue and smell great."

Flamingo halts and stomps down in the dirt saying with a smile. "This is most definitely the location of first log cabin which had been crudely built similar with the tiny, small same dimensions inside the historical Trading Post. So, that means the location of the hidden treasure is in the opposite direction," he spins around with a smile and moves ahead in the direction of east.

Breck lowers his mobile telephone and spins around sounding with a gasp. "What? Why?"

Flamingo moves ahead and snaps a set of digital pictures saying with a smile. "Think it, Breck! You would not hide a set of valuable gold near the house or nears the babies either."

He frowns. "What babies?"

"The du Nicco Italian family unit established the first pioneer Trading Post with four sons." Flamingo slowly moves ahead and continues to snap a set of digital pictures consisting of the skyline, the clouds, the soil, and the landscape, moving away from the Trading Post, the row of fruit trees, and the plot of cleared land.

Breck slowly pads beside Flamingo and replaces his phone back down into the pocket of his jean, sweating in the heat in misery and silence.

Cinco dashes ahead and then halts dropping down, searching the row of plant bushes without success of a live kill. Flamingo stops and stands in front of the red tinted mound frowning with puzzlement.

Breck stops beside Flamingo with worry. "How far have we traveled on foot from the Trading Post structure?"

Flamingo spins around and studies the distance. "Well, from the stationary roadway of _Nappiers Lane_ moving ahead towards the northern side on a stationary _Telephone Tower Road_ , the distance is .08 miles. There is 5,280 feet in one mile. So, we have traveled 4,224 feet west from the Trading Post building and we are located slab dab in the middle of the flat clearing in-between the face of the Brindlee Mountain range and the _Henderson Creek's_ pond water. That's interesting!"

Breck points at the mound. "What is more interesting? We found a small moon-shaped American Indian mound which is located slab dab in the middle of the same flat clearing in-between the face of the Brindlee Mountain range and _Henderson Creek's_ pond water. I thought the Indian camp site was back there a few yards from the ancient pioneer trading post. Anyways, an elevated mound of red dirt is an old Native American burial ground. Touching or standing or talking or sitting on a mound is sacrilegious, Flamingo."

Flamingo spins around with a smile. "That's an old and ancient Indian dirt of dead bones. I agree with your statement. And we did not disturb it," he scoots around the mound and slowly moves ahead with a smile, surveying the new unfamiliar landscape. "An agrarian society of Native American Indians lived and thrived here within the Alabama territory from the years 1000 to 1600 AD that held one major center."

Breck moves beside Cinco and surveys the landscape saying with a smile. "O! The American Native Indians don't have a center shopping plaza."

Cinco continues to move ahead with a smile and surveys each low green tinted bush for his new prey. "One of the major teepee malls was located here in Lacy Springs."

Flamingo frowns, "Ah, naw."

He laughs, "Ah, yeah."

Flamingo nods. "And each exposed artifact recovered from numerous Indian mounds by an archaeological excavation team is a direct historical link to the Meso-American culture."

Breck slaps his chest and slowly pads beside Cinco moving behind Flamingo, "Me, so, American, too!"

Flamingo frowns. "I'm referencing the Mayans of Mexico."

Cinco laughs, "Gold!"

Flamingo smiles, "Gold!"

Breck laughs. "Go on!"

Cinco smiles, "Yeehaw! Let's go and dig up all the gold. Then, we'll be rich and never need to work again."

Breck frowns. "Wait, Flamingo. I received your same neurons too. I learned and read too that the Native American people, who lived in the yesterdays of Alabama, at the same time with the European invasion from all the European soldiers and settlers, were the Cherokee, Chickasaw, Choctaw, Creek tribes, who had originally migrated coming from the US States of North Carolina and Georgia. Then the major Native American Indians tribes settled here within the US States of Alabama and Mississippi."

Flamingo continues to march through the weeds and says with a smile. "Right, Breck. In the sixteenth century, the Spanish ships with their native Spanish soldiers invaded the southern coastal Alabama town of Mobile under the command of Captain Hernando de Soto in the year 1540 A.D. Then, all the French ships arrived with their native French soldiers, who then conquered and kicked the asses on each Spaniard right off the sugar white colored wet sands. Then the Frenchmen established a French colony town within the same beach town of Mobile, in the year 1702 A.D. Then, the sissy Frenchmen with their sissy feathered hats get their asses stomped by the snobby British red coats..."

"A British Red Coat couldn't really shoot a damn shotgun," Cinco laughs.

Flamingo continues to move across the terrain and nods with a smile. "Right, Cinco! Then, in the year 1763, the British spitted and shitted all over on the landscape within the wet sands of Mobile, until the wild-ass American rebels won the American Revolutionary War in the year 1776. Then, the true native Alabamians kicked each British ass outta of Bama like a true redneck farmer."

Breck frowns. "What's the point of your sad fairy tale, Flamingo?"

Flamingo squats down and examines the soil. "Each elevated red tinted mound was owned and operated by an individual Native American Indian tribe, who had stolen everything from the Spanish, the French and the British, before the invasion of the Alabamian rednecks."

He continues to frown. "So, define again here, what is everything!"

Flamingo racks his fingers through the hard soil and says with a smile. "My extensive library and internet research uncovered and listed timeless treasures coming from each European, such like, fancy beads, clay pottery, damaged muskets, tea kettles and crates of gold."

Cinco looks up and salutes the tall mountain with a pink tinted peak and says with a smile, "Yeehaw! There's gold in them there hills up there and far away from me."

Flamingo stands upright and smiles stomping ahead and points down at the soil. "Actually, I do believe the gold lies below the hilltops, inside an ancient dried-up river bed, that used to run up and down here below the Brindlee Mountain Range of pink-tinted capstones."

Breck frowns. "Based on what or why or how?"

Flamingo grins and taps the yellow tinted map. "This is old map. These visual markings are unfamiliar. I have never seen a legend look like this one ever. The land is flat on the mountain, like here within the Brindlee Mountain valley. The jagged symbol represents a series of tall and wide mountains, like here within the Brindlee Mountain valley. But the other set of symbols appear like a set of tiny mountains, which is not here within the Brindlee Mountain valley. So, I believe each tiny mountain represents a tiny Native American Indian hut."

Breck leans over and laughs at the map. "Your ancient map appears like some present-day kid has marked it with a set of modern-day highlighters in numerous colors. The design shows a set of squares within squares and within squares."

Flamingo looks up and scans the landscape of wild flowers and high weeds. "I knew that. I can see that. But the set of squares begin on the southern side of pink-tinted sandstone Brindlee Mountain range and it is farthest away from the location of the ancient pioneer Trading Post, which is confusing to my smart neurons. So, there must have been something located or living here a long time ago," he pulls out his mobile telephone and types on the screen, slowly moving ahead, surveying the lands. "We continue to travel due west from the Trading Post and pad towards an open clearing and measure the clouds, the soil, and the grass."

Cinco slowly moves ahead and continues to crouch down beside each low-lying row of green tinted plant bushes saying with a smile "I'm ready! Where's the prey?"

"Pray!" Breck grins and continues to pad ahead in-between Cinco and Flamingo.

Cinco stands upright with laughter and then crouches back down, "Prey!"

"Pray for rain," Flamingo smiles.

Breck frowns. "Why are we praying for rain?"

Flamingo slowly moves ahead and snaps a digital picture of the cloud coverage, the dry soil, and the tall weeds storing the picture inside his phone. "That's right. Rain. I need a shower of rain about right now. I'm applying the concept of hydrologic in order to find the treasure. The scientific term hydrology is the study of the movement, distribution, and quality of water on Planet Earth. One historical example, in the 4000 B.C., the Nile River was dammed up to improve agricultural field crops. In the village of Mesopotamia, the first civilization contained built-up earthen walls around the river water to protect the city from flooding. And the Ancient Romans used a set of aqueducts for drinking the fresh water and shitting their turds down into the running water. Marcus Vitruvius, in first century B.C., observed rain precipitation fell from each cloud down into the mountain woodlands and then drained down into each creek streams and then down into underground springs for ponds of drinking water. He had described the concept of hydrology."

Breck frowns. "What treasure are you hunting for, Flamingo?"

Flamingo smiles, "Gold."

Cinco stands upright from the bushes and laughs out loud, "God."

Flamingo smiles, "Naw, gold."

Breck slowly moves ahead and in-between Cinco and Flamingo, exhaling with annoyance. "You are shitting on me again! I am sick to death of hearing about the gold or golden bars or golden nuggets or golden coins. None of that exists here. Do you hear me...?"

"...roar..." Cinco laughs. "Yeah, I can. Shut up, dude! I'm listening and helping Flamingo today."

Flamingo continues to move ahead and laughs out loud. "Clean the ear wax from your pair of clogged up ears, boy! I am talking and talking and talking about gold coins and gold bars and gold nuggets," he laughs with Cinco.

Cinco stands upright from the row of plant bushes and swings around to see the tall mountain pointing at the glowing pink-tinted cliff as you never point a gun at nothing but your prey. "But, we're on the wrong side of the pink mountain. Mohawk Patch with the hidden gold is that away. We're moving the opposite way."

Breck moves ahead due west nodding with laughter. "You're definitely a senior student at the local high school, Cinco."

Flamingo continues to move ahead with a smile and surveys the sky, the air, and the lands. "I'm searching for a golden nugget as my proof for the research paper and the existence of the Yazoo Indian tribe. This place is the true location of some of the Yazoo Lands. The Yazoo Indian tribe is mysterious and extinct as a historical culture, which is kinda like the Ancient Egyptians. Their Yazoo tribal language is unknown, and their tribal culture is relatively unknown also except for the great lands the tribe had possessed between the US States of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi..."

"I found it." Breck stops in the tall weeds with a smile and looks down at the screen on his mobile telephone, silently reading the information.

Cinco stands upright from the bushes and dashes ahead, standing beside Breck, saying with a smile. "What did you find? Did you find a piece of gold?"

Breck says. "I found the Yazoo Lands."

"No!" Flamingo spins around and dashes back toward Breck, stopping in front of his face. "Where is it? What did you find, Breck?"

Breck points down to the screen on the mobile telephone and then fingers the western horizon with a smile. "Yazoo City, I found it. Yazoo City is a real, true, live city located inside the US State of Mississippi. Yazoo City was named after the Yazoo River, which means, 'River of Death.'"

Cinco frowns. "Whoa! I don't wanna search for a missing or misplaced river of death. I wanna live and breathe life. The Yazoo Indian Tribe is all dead and gone. So, the Yazoo River carries all of their dead bones throughout the world."

"You failed your American History and Physical Science final examinations, didn't you, Cinco?" Breck turns and frowns at his brother.

Cinco laughs. "I passed with the letter grade of D in each subject matter."

Flamingo frowns at Cinco then spins around slowly padding ahead, scanning the landscape. He narrates the words into the phone. "Yeah, I thought so. The Yazoo River runs north to south and parallels the Mississippi River. The river and the city were both named by French explorer Robert La Salle, in the year 1682, where the Yazoo Indian tribe truly resided, which is not here, Breck."

Cinco gasps. "Is that right, Flamingo?"

Flamingo frowns. "That's not part of the Yazoo Land claim here in Alabama. In the year 1000 A.D., numerous tribes of true North American Indians roamed and owned the Alabama territory while planting and growing crops for food. The northern two-thirds of the current US State of Alabama from the Tennessee River all the way down towards the beach town of Mobile was known as the Yazoo Land, during the British Colonial period. The Yazoo Land had been fought by mouth spit and gun shell from the year 1767, until the year 1804. The Yazoo Land was mostly composed of thick woodlands and wild wilderness of animals with a few small townships that had grown into a civilized city for business and employment. After Alabama territory became an official state in the USA in the year 1819, all the Yazoo Land were ceded to the USA." He moves ahead and holds the screen on the phone near his lips, narrating the words. "By measuring rainfall, runoff, and drainage area of a river, you can pinpoint a former teepee gathering spot."

Cinco dashes ahead and then stops, squatting down into dirt, searching the low bushes. "The hottest spot here in town."

"Yeah, Cinco!" Flamingo continues to stroll through the tall yellow weeds and high green grass, speaking into the screen on his mobile telephone. "We combine the velocity and river cross-section measurements to obtain discharge..."

Breck moves beside Cinco and occasionally stumbles over a lump of hard dirt, looking down at the grass, saying with a frown. "What is he talking about, Cinco?"

Cinco stands upright from the dirt and points at the tall shade tree saying with a smile. "I'm the farmer here. Hell, if I know or desire to know or care to know it, like my best pal Sawyer, but I do know there ain't no quail nests around here, maybe, some possum in the low overhanging tree limbs. Do you like possum meat?"

Breck slowly strolls ahead and scans the new woodlands, "Naw!"

Flamingo continues to move ahead and records his vocal words into his mobile telephone, scanning the new landscape. "The evaporation vapors account for the outflow from an ancient river flowing down from the..."

Cinco continues to move ahead and then drops down searching each plant bush for live prey. "What is the point of your personal babbling, Flamingo?"

Flamingo moves ahead and presses the tiny keys on his scientific calculator based on the math figures from his mobile telephone. "I am calculating the groundwater hydrology including Darcy's law, the Dupuit-Theim deep well-water formula, and Hagen-Poiseuille's capillary flow equation."

Cinco stands upright from the dirt and spins around with a smile to view the back spine on Flamingo. "That boy right there has got my smart neurons. That's why I can't pass any of my geometry tests."

Flamingo nods. "I am doing my own hydrological research study for my paper. The unit hydrograph is..." he types on the tiny keyboard on his mobile telephone and mumbles for his eardrums only. "The infiltration measure is..." he continues to type. "The aquifer test is..." he smiles. "This place here will pinpoint, gentlemen..."

Breck laughs. "That's a new term for Flamingo, gentlemen."

"This scientific method will pinpoint, gentlemen, the water well with the hidden gold from the Ancient Mayans also."

Breck exhales with annoyance. "Bull shit, horse shit, and cow shit, Flamingo."

Flamingo smiles, "The Mayan gold bags have been hidden underneath layers and layers of rock and dirt and water, since the year 1000 A.D. We will use the term, limnology. Limnology is the study of inland lakes, running and standing pond waters, fresh or saline or natural or man-made. I will observe with my two eyeballs, my two hands, my ten toes, and my unlimited brain cells a faint trail of plant and flora live organisms coming from the 1000 A.D. era to present day 21st Century, tracing them back from their Indian backyard using hydrologic mathematics, the movement of ground water, the transfer of energy between the water and the land, and the measurement of water chemistry in river."

Cinco continues to squat down and surveys the low brushes. "You know, they're like the pollutants coming out from Flamingo's butt-hole in the formation of brown tinted, stinky, semi-rounded shit turds."

Breck laughs. "That's very good, Cinco. You should become the medical physician within the family tree."

Flamingo continues to slowly move ahead and types on the keyboard. "Now, the mini-computer on my mobile telephone has concluded. The computer says: the water quality in the year 1000 A.D. was pure and fresh, when it is compared to present air pollutions and land poisons."

"Wow! That's a great guess for the computer and the genius triplet son, Flamingo!" Breck laughs with Cinco.

Flamingo halts and frowns down at the computer screen. "The computer also says: the small amount of drainage basin covers the water storage in the form of a water-well base. I don't agree with that," he looks up and scans the landscape. "I do believe here that I will discover an ancient..."

"Damn!" Breck stands and laughs beside Flamingo.

"Well, damn!" Cinco stands upright from the dirt and laughs also.

Flamingo continues to stand and then frowns. "I hope to uncover a dried dam or a levee or a dike or a floodgate that had used to impound, collect, and hold fresh water for storage purposes of drinking and irrigation. I will seek out the primary source using my eyeballs and my eardrums, the land sensors, the airborne sensor, the fowl nests, and finally satellite sensors."

Breck turns and winks at the nose profile on his brother, "Hmm! I do believe that's cheating, Flamingo."

Flamingo frowns. "I am not cheating. I am experimenting with Mother Nature. A great scientist experiments come to the final conclusion."

Breck laughs, "You're doing a good snow job on your paper for college."

He waves his free arm around the unfamiliar landscape and says with a smile. "All of this extraneous information gathered by the three southern gentlemen, including the sky clouds, the air water moisture, and the ground vegetation will be calculated mathematically on my personal computer laptop at home."

Cinco drops down in the weeds and shouts out loud. "Water goes everywhere on Mother Earth..."

"...like a visiting alien goes back to its mother ship, Flamingo." Breck laughs.

Flamingo moves ahead with a smile. "The water travels to a different pathway, at a different rate, and in a different season. The most common water transportation method is the evaporation of water from the sea oceans forming layers of sky clouds. The sky clouds drift over pockets of land producing rain water for thirsty wildlife and Cinco's pink tinted tongue."

Breck dashes ahead and waves both of his arms with fury. "Get out of the deep puddle of fresh water, boy!"

Cinco continues to stand and stomps both boot heels down into the tiny stream with a laugh. "Why?"

Breck stops on the land beside Cinco and winks at his brother. "I do believe snakes like to live in water here in Bama."

Cinco jumps up from the stream and lands on top of the weeds quickly dashing ahead from the tiny creek of water. "Shit!"

Flamingo moves ahead, stops, and stands in front of the tiny water puddle of mud, narrating into the speaker box on his mobile telephone. "The rain flows down into lake and then either evaporates back up in the air or flows back down to the ocean, thus completing the cycle of hydrology. Now, I am going to travel backwards in time and track the movement of the fresh river water coming from this tiny mud puddle going backwards towards the floodgate within the ancient property of the Yazoo tribe."

"Ah! This is Flamingo's new baby girl." Breck moves ahead with laughter and then stops looking down at the soil.

Flamingo nods. "Now, I follow the nurtured grass, until it become a plot of dry brittle light brown colored soil which does not absorb rainfall, because infiltration of water is blocked by the creation of shifting dirt."

Breck laughs. "Well, that makes sense."

Cinco wipes the water off each one of his boots over the tall weeds saying with a sour frown. "Nothing makes sense out here in the heat and sunlight. I thought we were going to hunt quail tail feathers," he huffs with disappointment.

Breck continues to stand and squats down talking the dirt. "And if you see a quail, shoot it and then we are hunting quail."

Cinco frowns, "Smart ass."

Breck smiles, "Yes, I am."

Flamingo continues to stand in place and snaps picture while narrating into the speaker box on his mobile telephone again. "Once we have located the plot of dry brittle light brown colored soil, we will..."

"...go back home and cook our fresh quail meat." Cinco laughs.

He points down at the tiny water hole of mud. "We will dig a hole until hitting moist or wetness or water or puddle and not dry clay dirt. The water droplets will direct us down towards the surface water flow coming from an ancient river bed within the Yazoo tribe city. An ancient river bed channels out into a stream bed. Then the stream bed transports the elements of sediment, sand, mud, rock, erosion properties that lead us towards the big prize."

Breck smiles. "That does not make any sense, Flamingo."

Flamingo frowns. "Et, Breck! One of the important components of hydrology is the interchange between the river and the stream in a given geographical area."

Breck spins around and points back towards an easterly direction saying with a smile. "The woods, that's the redneck term for the given geographical area, which is located behind your butt-hole, bro."

He continues to stand in place and narrates into the phone. "This muddy water hole will move from the creek stream going down into the ancient and evaporated river water while reversing the process."

Cinco shuffles ahead and digs down into the dry dirt saying with laughter. "I confuse."

Flamingo frowns. "Shut up, Cinco."

He continues to dig in the dirt with a series of chuckles, "I hungry."

Breck continues to stand in place and wears a smile. "So, where do we start to dig, Flamingo?"

Flamingo continues to stand in place and narrates into the phone. "We study precipitation rates, radar for cloud properties, hail and snow detection, land vegetation cover, and the soil moisture. The radar of clouds is the same back then in the year 1762 and right now in present day 21st Century. I think the process of evaporation does not play a part here, since the land of Alabama does not have dew or mist or fog formations on a regular basis, only in the spring time months between the winter periods and the series of nasty tornados."

Breck continues to stand in place and looks up at the skyline. "And the process of evaporation is affected by the presence of snow, hail and ice. The State of Alabama is very low on these particular Mother Nature events, too."

"Good point, Breck," Flamingo nods. "Evaporation involves momentum, heat flux, and energy. Heat flux is very important, since scientists scream global warming. You should be able to measure the raise in the heat index from the year 1000 A.D. into present day 21st Century with ease."

Cinco shuffles ahead through the dirt and stops, digging in the soil. "Bull shit, horse shit, and cow shit, Breck."

Flamingo nods. "No shit here, Cinco. With the invention and daily usage of computers, the datum is here. Excellent idea, Breck! I will program the heat flux from the year 1000 A.D. to this present day 21st Century. However, this is going to take a couple of hours. So, I can analysis the land vegetation cover from the year 1000 A.D. to present day 21st Century for each crop..."

"Maize or corn or colorful Indian corn, to be specific, any Bama farmer knows how to grow a crop of good food to survive the droughts, the snow, and the ice," Cinco continues to dig down in the dirt.

Breck smiles, "Damn! Cinco is smart..."

"...smart ass..." Flamingo frowns.

Breck continues to stand in place in the middle of the dry soil and lifts both arms over his cowboy hat saying with a smile. "I'm six, six, almost seven feet tall."

Cinco chuckles, "You are definitely a senior student at the local high school, Breck. I'm six feet and six inches in height as well. And six feet and six inches is six inches shine of the whole number of seven feet tall. Do the math, dude!"

He whips both arms from his skull and even with the ground, "So, now, I stand with my two arms and my two boot toes apart like this. Now, I am standing closer to seven feet tall, but it is measured horizontally. I measure the land distance side to side, instead of vertically which is going up and down, like a tall shade tree. A shade tree grows vertically, like me."

"What kind of redneck mathematics is that, Breck? Stand with my boots apart to be horizontally seven feet tall!" Flamingo laughs.

"That's called dumbass redneck math." Cinco continues to squat and dig down in the dry soil.

Breck stands in place and looks down at the parted space between his two boot toes. "I stand with my feet about three feet apart, which are well-balanced and firmly planted down into the dry soil, creating a set of little baby dust bowls. So, when I calculate six feet and six inches and then convert the amount into total inches, it is seventy-eight inches. And then I add the three feet of space between my legs."

Cinco spins around and smiles at Breck. "I can measure the air space between Breck's dick and the dry soil. Will that help in your mathematical calculations, Flamingo?" He laughs with Breck.

Flamingo continues to stand in place in front of the mud puddle and narrates into his phone.

Breck jumps both of his boot soles together for attention and then apart for fun. "The sum of three feet times 12 inches is 36 inches. The sum of 36 inches plus 78 inches is 114 inches. The sum of 114 inches divided by 12 inches is 9.5 feet, precisely. You're welcome!"

Cinco shuffles ahead, stops, and digs down in the dry dirt. "Flamingo, Breck's right. This dry soil with slight indentation comes from a natural curving motion along an outer river water bed which is about nine feet wide."

Flamingo continues to stand in place and then swings around looking down, studying the dry soil underneath the boot toes on Breck, "Maybe!"

He frowns. "Shit! There is no maybe here."

Breck points down at his boot toes but targets the flat dirt, "Looky over here, Flamingo! I'm standing in the middle of a dry bed inside solid rock, clearly with a set of horizontal ridges running north and south from here heading towards the Henderson's pond water. This is your permanently evaporated, ancient river bed which flows down from the _Cooter Terrell Spring_ that hides between the mountain sides. I didn't believe this. But Flamingo is right again."

Cinco continues to dig through the dirt with all fingers. "Wow! Your hyper-drive theory thingy works good, Flamingo. There are deposits of poorly sorted white gravel and coral rock fragments located here in the dry soil. I am not digging up dead roots of non-eaten food vegetation, which is supposed be younger than the surrounding rows of natural land plant bushes and fruit trees. If this spot was a river bed at one time, then there will be evidence of a hut or a cabin. I'm searching for any seasoned vegetation. And I'm feeling a clump of heavy deposits of top soil red clay for...for a food crop standing here, too, Flamingo."

Breck squats down and starts to dig in the dirty soil. "But, this empty, dried nine feet wide plot of soil has not been used for farming or plowing or planting for...for centuries. So, what was it used for in the year 1000 A.D., Cinco? The entire plot of land is flat but does not contain any bushes or trees. That's strange also."

Flamingo continues to stand and narrates into his phone. "I am standing at ground level on top of a creek stream bed of fresh water. Research has been conducted in hydrological modeling that a stream bed is created by heavy rainfalls thus leading to an enlargement river bed which leads into surrounding rock, maybe creating a ravine. Well, to answer your question, a group of pioneer farmers must have cut down all the plant bushes and groves of shade trees helping the stream flow down from the main river bed for agricultural crop field and drinking water purposes. A farmer likes to dig a ditch and distribute the water supply for the fresh water pond for herds of horses and cows and irrigates the vegetable garden and such like," he turns and faces the north staring at the Brindlee Mountain range. "I am not interested in the pioneer farmer and his irrigation technique. I turn to face the mountain top. My eyeballs follow the flow of the dry soil back to the original primary source. The current land terrain slopes slightly south to southeastern direction. I am standing downstream of the ancient and evaporated nameless river. So, I can trace the dry bed upstream to the ancient river mouth in-between the mountain sides."

Cinco stands upright from the dirt and scans the landscape. "I do not see a dense forest forming an open habitat for the wild animals, only plenty of hot sunlight and limited tree shade. There is not any understory of shrubs or herbaceous plants, including grasses. There is not a grove of large canopy shade trees or fallen trees which was generally used for firewood in ancient pioneer homes. And I don't see any disturbance in the flower beds or buzz of insects. There is not any type of aquatic fauna, which are flowers underneath the water here inside this dry river bed. Why is that, Flamingo? This piece of property is very strange to me."

Flamingo stares with puzzlement at the mountain. "The channel flow of the river is going..." he spins around with confusion. "It is going..."

Cinco frowns. "The permanently evaporated, ancient river channel had flowed down the mountain side coming north to south watering this dry river bed that stands underneath my ass, Flamingo."

"So, the Yazoo River waters come from the western skies and then evaporated here. Well, that makes perfect sense." Breck stands upright from the dirt and shuffles ahead the dirt moving away from Cinco.

"No! The Yazoo River lies over 200 miles due west of cow town Lacy Springs and the river runs north to the south down towards the Gulf of Mexico and it is blocked by the mighty Mississippi River. So, your conclusion is wrong and false and annoying, all at the same time, Breck." Flamingo continues to stand and stares at the mountain.

Breck stops and stares down at the dry soil while slowly moving ahead towards the western skies, saying with puzzlement. "A fresh water source will transport horse shit, clay soil, corn seeds, sediment, and Indian piss from one source to another. The main point source is going due east, right here, Flamingo."

"No! That's impossible, Breck!" Flamingo exhales with annoyance. "I am looking for an ancient water source. The modern-day water source flows from north to south, which comes from the _Cooter Terrell Spring_ that lies in-between the mountain sides. This is the point source of the evaporated ancient river bed."

Breck squats down and digs down into the dry brown dirt saying with a smile. "So, the only organic compound of horse shit as a source of fertile is found within the sediment materials in the dry river bed."

Cinco smiles down at the soil. "Breck is smart..."

"...smart ass..." Flamingo frowns. "The water quality is affected by the interaction of the dissolved oxygen from the organic material and various chemical transformations that took place. I don't own the proper survey equipment to test the organic materials. If I find a set of fossilized animal shit, then I'm in business."

Cinco says. "Bull shit, cow shit, and horse shit!"

Breck laughs. "Right, Cinco. Cinco is smart too."

"Smart ass..." Flamingo moves ahead near his two brothers, squats down, and touches the red dirt. "The dry bed is light brown. Start digging right here!"

Breck frowns. "I have been digging using my finger nails, but I haven't hit anything yet."

Cinco lifts a small, solid dark object near his smile. "I found it. I found a piece of petrified horse shit."

Flamingo spins around with a gasp, "No! No way!"

Breck laughs. "Cinco knows what dried horse shit looks like and smells like."

Flamingo laughs, "Fine! Smell it."

Breck frowns. "Do not eat that stuff, Cinco!"

Cinco smiles, "I don't need to eat or smell the stuff. I recognize it easily. This is small pile of petrified horse shit."

Flamingo smiles, "I have found it."

Cinco frowns. "What have we found, Flamingo? Have we found the gold?"

He smiles and narrates into the phone microphone staring at the petrified horse turd. "I am close to finding the treasure gold from the lost Yazoo Tribe. I have determined the crop surface run-off, the sub-surface flow of horse shit, and the evaporation transpiration do not apply here."

Cinco places the item beside his boot toe and continues to dig in the dirt. "What really happened to the Yazoo Indian Tribe that occupied these lands, Flamingo?"

Flamingo stares down at the dry soil. "The only other historical fact of extinction occurred in the year 1729 A.D., the explosion of the Natchez War involved the Yazoo tribe versus the French army plus the Choctaw and Chickasaw Native American Indian tribes. After the bloody, messy ending, the priests, the slaves, the army soldiers were killed within the French army while all the Yazoo refugees were captured by the Chickasaw Native Indian tribe and then sold into slavery there within present-day Mississippi. The end for them!"

Cinco frowns. "Wow! That's really sad!"

Breck stands upright from the dirt and wipes his dirty hands on his jeans. "Do you have a mathematical model of numbers or a laboratory microbiological analyzer or an engineering gauge to find the horse turds, Flamingo?"

Flamingo frowns. "No."

Cinco stands upright from the dirt and turns with a wink to view Breck. "Yeah, we do."

"Bull shit, cow shit and horse shit, Cinco!" Breck frowns.

Cinco nods with laughter. "Yeah, we do have a measurement devise or a sniff-o-meter."

"Naw, man!" Flamingo continues to stare down at the soil and clicks numerous digital pictures on his mobile telephone for his research paper.

He frowns. "Yes, man!"

"No, Cinco!" Flamingo continues to survey the grass and the soil.

Cinco shuffles ahead then stands over that nasty ass-backwards cap saying with a smile. "Coonie is one, our coon dog. His nose can sniff out a pile of petrified horse turds faster, more efficient than Flamingo."

Breck chuckles and slaps the back spine on his brother saying with a nod. "Let's go and get the sniff-o-meter, Cinco. Then, we all can find the point source of the lost golden nuggets today."

At 03:33 pm, in the heated day of bright sunlight, Breck and Cinco back step from Flamingo then spins around sounding with bouts of loud laughter swiftly dashing back towards the log cabin, advancing to Breck's pickup truck.

Monday October 6th

08:08 am

Warm temperatures and bright sunlight

Lacy Springs Church location

Parking lot setting

There are four individual church structures within the town limits of Lacy Springs, but the massive red-colored brick building with a fifteen-foot white tinted steeple called _Lacy Springs Church_ is the most popular among the young adults and high school teenagers.

The four-story structure displays a high overhang that protect each person from the sheets of rain drops or the floods of drifting snowflakes. Each person stomps up a horizonal row of long matching red-tinted bricked-covered steps onto a vanilla-colored concrete porch underneath the hanging veranda. The front façade displays six tall white-tinted concrete-filled columns holding up the upper roof rafters underneath a 5,000-seated interior church auditorium inviting all God's children into His house for both worship and prayer.

The interior walls are painted in bright yellow hue, which is not covered with a row of windows or stained-glass or a door frame, keeping each person alert and awake during the boring preaching hour.

Each side wall within the auditorium presents rows of low-lying of clean glass windows. Decades ago, the windows contained stained-glass and blocked out the pretty yard. Lots of the young children and whiny teenagers complained to the elders, so the church administration broke out the stain-glass and replaced with regular clean glass.

The rows of windows exhibits the manicured lawn, pods of colorful flowers, small grove of tall and short trees, rows of plant and fruit bushes, flocking of flying colorful birds, scrambling ground squirrels, and numerous hopping brown tinted rabbits during the preaching session as Almighty God gives the group of bored teenagers and some of the mature adults a break from the oral heavenly lecture to admire his beautiful handy work on Planet Earth.

The entrance wall displays four different double doors entering the room which are shut and sometimes bolted during the preaching sermon, when the preacher gets fiery.

The rear wall majestic presents an elevated platform in light oak with thirteen horizontal steps towards the preacher's alter. Behind the preacher's back spine, a ceiling-to-floor stain-glass window with an image of Christ Jesus occupies ninety percent of the wall. Each side wall is painted bright yellow hue and displays a tall slender wooden door for the preacher to enter the auditorium and the chorus members to escape from the alter station after the preaching services has ended.

Above the slender wooden door, on each side of the grand stain-glass window, a gigantic plasma television screen is mounted closer to the ceiling displaying the movements of the preacher and words of prayer and then musical notes from each gospel song for the audience members.

On the entrance wall, above the center double doors, a hidden audio-visual booth lies in silence but captures the body motions and vocal words of the preacher and some of the rude actions of the active audience members recording all these events for members of the Lacy Springs community that cannot attend the church for worship services.

Above the audio-visual booth, a second story balcony lounges with rows of lighted colored pew beach seats that allows an individual to enjoy the auditorium scene below. This section has been snatched up by the teenager population, where a young adult or a mature adult dares not goes. But it is carefully monitored by spies from the parents and elders.

The three-story ceiling is comprised of ugly tan-colored wooden planks that badly clashes with the pretty yellow tinted walls. And the floor space is composed of hard light tinted wood that collects dust bunnies, eaten food particles, and baby spittle while annoying a pair of sensitive eardrums when each dancing child enters the auditorium.

Note: Almighty God and Christ Jesus does not mind the noise from the sweet little children either.

Inside the parking lot, a white-colored, jacked-up pickup truck and a single flashy blue metallic motorcycle minus a low-down, red-tinted muscle car slows its speed and then carefully turns stopping side by side on a row of filled parking spaces.

The group of mature and elderly citizens have already arrived at the church building and enjoyed a plate of breakfast entrees at six o'clock this morning as the Revival Planning Committee met to discuss the details of the grand event.

On the side row of spaces near the roadway, the wild-ass loud country music invades each pair of eardrums coming from the first, second, third, fourth, and fifth jacked-up, pickup truck which contains an individual terrain vehicle inside the rear compartment and then the loud music shuts off. Each door slides open and then closes shut. Then numerous teenagers move ahead and stop huddling at the closed tailgate on Breck's truck. Cinco, Babbie, Doyle, Yancy, Brett, Fannie, Acton, and Retta Jean loudly talk and rudely point fingers at the landscape while discussing the anticipated fun at the weekly revival.

A lonely yellow-tinted, four-door sedan parks next to the motorcycle.

Violet exits and then stands from the driver's seat while narrowing her pair of eyelashes underneath the dark sunglasses searching for Flamingo's sports car or his upright body.

The teenagers move ahead as one blob and continue to laugh and talk stopping in front of Iredell McCory. She and each teen wear a pair of faded blue jeans, a set of rough work or cowboy boots, and a long-sleeved shirt for the upcoming manual work for Brother Jesus and his father Almighty God.

Iredell McCory waddles ahead in a pair of blue and white colored cowgirl boots and stops in front of the teen huddle, wearing a smile, narrowing her two eyelashes underneath her pair of prescription sunglasses. She holds on old-fashioned wooden clip board and a blue ink pen stating with confusion. "Welcome! Where's Flamingo?"

Breck elbows his childhood friends Yancy and Doyle and laughs out loud. "He disserted."

Cinco cuddles Baddie and kisses her cheekbone, pulling back, turning to sneer at the nose profile on Breck. He shouts out loud, "Naw, Grandmother! Not disserted, dissertation! Flamingo is working on his college honor judgment day thingy today."

She gasps in shock. "Flamingo has driven down to Burn U, without A.J..."

Cinco smiles with a nod, "No ma'am. He got up early to go and look up all his historical notes inside that old cold room within the local library with all of these smelly books," he laughs with the other teens.

She nods with a smile. "Yes, he is visiting the Lacy Springs Achieve Room. Yes, I told Flamingo to be there and do that when the library opens its doors at eight this morning. I forgot," she looks down at the list of items in black ink pen and whispers for her eardrums only, "There's so much to do. I wish A.J. and Arie was here to aid me also. This is the last time I'm chairperson for the church revival week."

Breck moves ahead through the teens and stops standing beside Iredell, saying with a smile. He reaches out and pats her collar bone, "You'll do a good job, here, Grandmother. Me, Babbie, Cinco, Doyle, Yancy, Brett, Retta Jean, Fannie, Yancy, and Violet, we're all here along with other teens and ready for our marching orders, Lady General."

Iredell looks up with a smile to see her grandson. "Thank you, Breck!" She inhales with nervousness. "Welcome to all! This year the revival special event will be a fiery bonfire. But the fiery bonfire will be far away from the auditorium building and the kitchen setting and the classrooms. Last year, our little church received about one thousand persons here coming from Lacy Springs. This year, the church and the church grounds are expecting lots more people coming from the surrounding towns, including a flood of folks coming down from the city of Huntsville. Our little church revival has spread fast and furious with numerous good souls. So, Brother Neap has decided to provide an elevated platform stage with a set of spot light of all things."

Yancy smiles with a nod. "That's easy, Grandmother McCory. We all can string an array of flood lights across some lumber piece and then hook them up to a computer for a colorful neon orange, green, red, and yellow laser show."

Iredell smiles with a nod. "That's a nice suggestion. And since you possess the modern-day technology, can you go and work with the youth director and the new lighting show, Yancy?"

"Yes, ma'am," Yancy nods and slides through the crowd of people searching for the youth director.

She thumbs back over her collar bone and says with a smile. "Now, everyone, go and stand with the rest of the crowd. And remember to cheer for me!" She slowly spins around and leads the huddle of teens towards the active crowd of young and mature adults moving ahead standing in front of the preacher.

Each teen lifts their arms with a mobile telephone in the air and wears a smile shouting out loud in unison, "Yay!" They drop their hand then slowly move ahead looking down at a phone or chatting with a friend, parking behind the crowd of people.

In the front of the crowd, Brother Neap stands upright inside the rear compartment on a black-colored pickup truck and lifts both of his plump arms in the air wearing a smile, swaying his plump short body side to side, "Welcome, young and old folks! And thank you for coming here today! We are workers for the Lord."

"Amen!" One male voice shouts out loud among the crowd of workers.

Neap nods. "Yes. And a lot of men and women and teens are needed here for many activities in reaching our ultimate goal this week. The Revival Fire event will be a big blazing glory red fiery bonfire, compliments of Iredell McCory. Please clap for her!" He claps with a smile.

The rest of the audience claps and cheers for Iredell.

A set of mature males assists Iredell onto the tailgate of the truck. She scoots ahead and stops beside Brother Neap, waving one arm in the air. "Welcome, good friends!" She drops her hand and slaps her chest, "I am Grandmother McCory, of course. Everyone knows me, of course. I know everyone single one of you too. Thank you for coming to our first day of revival construction for the revival festival within three days. I am the head person on the revival committee as the chair person. I am not going to introduce each member of the revival committee, but all of you can quickly stand for some fast and swift recognition." She calls out each name as each elder quickly stands and then waves. The audience claps. Iredell motions for them to sit. "The revival committee has approved a bonfire decoration for our revival celebration. We are lucky too. The weather is slightly cold but chilled for a bonfire and warm and sunny for hosting our revival outdoor event. Last year, our revival had close to two thousand folks singing and praising the words, the works, and the ways coming from Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit, and all our angels in heaven plus your pair of eardrums. A bonfire is a 'bond of fire,' because there is a 'bond development' between all the sisters and brothers of Brother Jesus that surround around the fire for fun and thankfulness." The audience applauds. She smiles. "Thank you! Now, we are going to warm up our minds and our bodies. Everyone, lift and wiggle your fingers. Everyone, rotate and shake your hips, too." Iredell softly chuckles with delight at the group of dancing teenagers.

On the rear row, with the teens, Violet and Breck stand together and perform a bump of hips with laughter smiling at each other.

Iredell continues to shake her old body and wears a smile shouting out the fun instructions for each worker. "Now, everybody, shake your hands in the air. Now, everybody, shake your head side to side. Now, everybody, turn and shake your neighbor's hands for a proper introduction."

Breck spins around and looks down at a head of brownish-gray hair roots on a petite adult male. The adult male looks up and extends his hand to Breck saying with a smile. "I'm Dunn."

He shakes the hand and says with a smile. "I'm Breck."

Dunn releases his hand and points at the face on Breck, "Hmm! I have seen you before. I thought I saw you over by the row of food tables."

Breck thumbs back over his collar bone into the crowd of people towards the direction of Cinco. "O! You did," he laughs. "That was my other brother. I am one of three brothers."

He smiles. "Ah! I see. You come from a triplet set. That's very intriguing!"

Breck laughs with a smile. "That I am."

In front of the tailgate, Iredell waves her arm in the air. "Today, our first assignment, we are to become a carpenter like Brother Jesus. We need to cut up logs, tree branches, and gather any wood kindling for the bonfire. Now, each pick-up truck contains an individual terrain vehicle, compliments of the church. And at the end of the revival, the individual terrain vehicle is the property of the truck owner." The crowd cheers and claps.

Iredell points towards a row of pickup truck saying with a nod and a grin. "Now, everyone, move out towards one of the parked pickup trucks. A designated driver will haul you out towards the woodlands, where we have permission to cull all the weeds, dead logs, and overhanging trees for the bonfire structure placing down into the truck bed. Some of the trees bear fruit. So, it is first come, first serve. But we are Christians here. So, we will eat one piece of fruit or share our piece for fruit with someone else. A delicious and generous lunch meal will be served at noontime there in your woodlands spot and the supper meal will be served at five pm. So, go and work for the Lord right now!"

"Amen!" The teen crowd chants in unison then each one slowly scatters around moving ahead towards the row of pickup trunks while singing out loud one of the popular church songs of good cheer.

At 09:09 am, in the heated day with bright sunlight, the woodlands hiking trail is narrow allowing for one person at a time. Breck was instructed by Iredell where to park along the roadway and where to hike inside the forestland. He slowly steers first a line of other terrain vehicles on top of the wooded pathway and then stops at the first grove of tall shade trees, pulling over to the side ground without tumbling into the small grass ditch. The rest of the vehicles slowly perform a putt-putt down the narrow trail towards a new grove of shade trees.

Breck kills the warm engine and then slides out the driver's seat, racing around the front bumper, extending his hand and assists the front passenger from the seat. He stands upright with a smile and cuddles her facing the four other occupants in the rear bench seat. "Behind the vehicle, there's an empty wagon trailer. We fill the trailer first and then each one of us takes turns driving the vehicle back to the church parking lot while the others continue to saw and cut down each tree limb. But first, there is protection gear in the trunk bed. So, go and get dressed up first for safety." He leans down and collects the backpack of gear, standing upright with a wink at Violet. "Let's dress you up cute, here, precious!" He slowly places each piece of gear onto Violet while tickling her body making her giggle. Then each one wears a pair of eye glasses, two thick hand gloves, and a body apron of hard fabric protecting the body from any falling tree limbs and flying sawdust.

Dunn is one of the rear passengers inside the truck. He slides over the beach seat and then carefully climbs down from the door frame standing on top of the forest floor, dressing in the protective gear behind the back spine on Breck. "I'm ready."

Breck spins around with a gasp and lifts both of his arms in the air saying with a frown, "Whoa, man! Let's practice safety first. Where is your set of personal eye, ear, face, and chest gear?" He slowly decorates the short man, like a little boy.

Violet smiles and stands beside a shade tree admiring Breck's helpfulness with the dull-thinking mature male.

Once each member from the worker party has completely and safely dressed, Breck brings out the large chain saw, moving ahead alone and stops in front of the dead tree. He waves his arm in the air signaling ready and pulls the chain saw. He steps towards the dead tree and lands the rotating saw on the first limb, cutting it neatly in half. He backs away from his bootie.

Dunn, Violet, and the other three passengers dash ahead and lift each fallen branch, slowly toting it toward the wagon trailer on the vehicle.

Breck repeats his American pioneer performance for numerous times until the tree is sawdust.

The lunch period comes from another group of terrain vehicles providing numerous boxed lunches for each worker, who eat on the ground or inside the bench seat of a truck for a short thirty minutes. Then the worker is back to cutting up the tree limbs.

Eight hours later...

At 04:01 pm, each mobile telephone rings and announces the end of the day.

Breck safely stores the chain saw back down into the trunk and slams the tiny lid shut, back stepping from the rear on the vehicle, racing back to Violet. He assists her to carefully undress from her tree cutting gear along with his body, storing the items back into the vehicle also.

The other four passengers undress without Breck's assistance.

Breck hurries back to Violet then wraps both of his dirty arms around her, carefully guiding her around each tree stump, rows of low-lying green tinted scrubs, pods of colorful wild flowers, and the groves of shade trees, "Ladies, first!" He stops and stands beside the front passenger seat, assisting her into the bench dashing around the front bumper and slides up into the driver's seat. He smirks at his brilliant plan to woo Violet as his new girlfriend from his triplet brother Flamingo during the busy church activities.

Inside the terrain vehicle, Breck cranks the engine and warms the cold motor, slowly steering the terrain vehicle back towards his personal pickup truck, loading the terrain vehicle, hooking up the wagon trailer, and chauffeuring all the passenger back to the church. He maneuvers around each chopped down tree branches with ease.

Dunn sits in the rear bench and fiddles with his personal mobile telephone, reading his numerous text messages, listening to the young teen couple.

Violet leans over and touches the bicep on Breck saying with a smile. "You did a good job with the tree stump, Breck."

Breck continues to smile and steers. "I believe hard work is good for the soul. I plan to teach my son..."

"Your daughter..."

"Our daughter, yes, of course, our daughter will be taught the value of body working, not just brain learning," he softly chuckles.

She smiles. "That's clever, Breck. And this is a nice lesson to teach all children."

"And this is a nice lesson to teach all adults and teens also. Working a job, to me, comes in the forms of using your hands and your neurons. You possess equal of both parts." He lifts his arm and curls his bicep into a rounded bulky muscle sounding with a softy chuckle. "Feel that, honey!"

She reaches over and touches his dirty bicep muscles creating with a girly giggle. "O! Your muscle is very nice..."

"...and strong! I can whip a bear..."

"A teddy bear..." Dunn whispers for his eardrums only and continues to sit in the rear bench seat cramped in-between three other teenagers.

Each truck returns to the church building. Then each worker enters the Fellowship Hall for the evening supper meal.

At 04:34 pm, in the cooler part of the day, inside a nicely air-conditioned building, the Fellowship Hall is a rectangular shaped room with three walls of gigantic glass windows, viewing the surrounding woodlands, grove of trees, blue skyline, and the manicured lawn. The forward wall features peach colored paint and displays a collage of extra-large colorful photographs from each current activity here at the church, such like, a wedding, a baptism, a funeral death, or another happy or sad event within the family unit.

Currently, the wall also displays a glossy picture that has been cut out from a colorful magazine displaying tall fiery bonfire reminding everyone their church duty today.

Across the floor, numerous long horizontal tables in an assortment of wood or metal and rows of colorful folding metal chairs stand side by side. The middle sections of the tables contain mountains of plastic eating utensils and stacks of paper napkins for the hungry.

Each church worker stands in a long line at the entrance door slowly entering the room, grabbing a plate of food and sits down with friends at any empty spot at one of the numerous tables.

Cinco stands in the long line behind Babbie and then enters through the open archway wearing a sour frown, scratching each itch on his dirty body. "Yeah, I love hot or cold showers. Gawd, I'm itchy and hot and sweaty and hungry." He grabs an empty plate and runs through the food line quickly, sitting down at an empty table with his girl Babbie. He consumes the food in silence. Babbie eats in silence also feeling sore limbs and some developing body bruises, after the physical labor collecting raw material and driving the cut trees to the church.

Yancy enters the room and stands in front of Violet and Breck filling a plate of food. "Where is Flamingo? Isn't he eating the supper meal with us?" Violet enters next and grabs a plate picking out her items in silence.

Breck stands beside Violet grabbing an empty plate, selecting each food item and laughs, "Naw! Flamingo is at home soaking in a hot bathtub with numerous pink tinted bubbles, after doing his sissy, girly school homework."

Yancy continues to grab food items and says with a frown. "Flamingo, does he really take a bubble bath?"

He laughs. "He likes to take a pink tinted bubble bath like a sissy girl. Do you like pretty pink tinted bubbles inside your bathtub, Violet?"

She smiles. "I love bubbles."

Yancy fills his plate and slowly spins around moving ahead towards the same table with his childhood friends, sitting down and eats.

Breck and Violet fill their plate and join Yancy sitting side by side.

Breck eats the food and turns to stare at some of the dirty, tired workers, returning to his plate of food. He leans down and whispers into the dirty cheekbone on Violet. "I find that Flamingo is very selfish for abandoning all our revival work today."

She swallows the food and nods. "He's busy." Violet eats the food with her good southern belle manners.

"He's busy, but Almighty God's work comes first. I feel."

She swallows the food and nods. "Flamingo is going to become a medical physician. He possesses a God-given talent in which he wants to heal and help people, Breck."

"Well, yeah, he wants to help sick people. But all types of people need to be helped. I like to help lonely peoples, weak peoples, ugly peoples, stubborn peoples..."

She frowns. "Who are ugly peoples?"

"Well, we all can't be born beautiful, charming, and intelligent. God's people come in different shapes and sizes, not all pretty and proper, like you. I mean. They need our help too."

She swallows the food and turns to smile at Breck. "Yeah, I see your point. We should help all different shapes and sizes of people, not just sick peoples."

"You're so smart and so brave, Violet." He eats and swallows the food, leaning over, whispering into her dirty cheekbone again. "You did a good job with all of tree cutting."

She swallows the food and smiles. "You did a great job. You did all the heavy work lifting the big branches and lifting the bigger tree limbs. You're really strong, Breck."

He bumps into her body with a smile. "I'm big, strong and smart like my three triplet brothers. We are the same, big, strong and smart."

She winks at Breck. "Yes, you, three brothers are all the same," Violet eats the food.

He smiles. "Thanks, Violet."

The supper meal ends for the day. Each worker leaves the church and returns home for rest.

McCory Cow Ranch location

Hot temperatures with dull moonlight and bright stars

2nd floor level

Hallway setting

07:07 pm

Breck slowly climbs the staircase after finishing the supper meal at church and lands on top of the second floor cleaning his dirty teeth with his tongue and then halts in the hallway and tilts his chin, listening to the air waves.

Behind the shut private bedroom door, the loud, clear voice on Flamingo carries through the wooden panels. "In the year 1000 A.D., numerous tribes of true North American Indians roamed and owned the Alabama territory while planting and growing crops for food. The northern two-thirds of the current US State of Alabama from the Tennessee River all the way down towards the beach town of Mobile was known as the Yazoo Land, during the British Colonial period. The Yazoo tribe is both mysterious and extinct as a historical culture, kinda like the Ancient Egyptians. Their language is unknown, and their culture is relatively unknown except for the great lands the tribe had possessed between the states of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi..."

Breck slowly creeps ahead and then halts standing beside the closed door into Flamingo's private bedroom, spinning around to see the rest of the hallway. Cinco is not present but downstairs talking with Iredell. Breck spins back around with a smile and leans his earlobe onto the wooden planks whispering for his eardrums only. "Ugh! I heard this before. Flamingo is practicing his College Honor Challenge speech. I am so surprised that he was not speaking the words at the dining room table tonight."

The voice of Flamingo shouts out loud through the wooden door frame. "The first encounter with the Yazoo Indian tribe had been with a set of European explorers, in the year 1541, which was headed by Spanish explorer Captain Hernando de Soto, who also founded the beach town of Mobile here in Alabama. Over the next centuries, the Yazoo Indian tribe fought and warred with hostile neighbors, such like, the Chickasaw and the Choctaw tribes from Mississippi and Alabama. Their prehistoric people had been a metropolis when the culture was compared to the barbaric Choctaw. The village lifestyle encompassed maize farm crops, hierarchical political structure, mussel shell cooking pots and pans for both farmsteads and residential family comprising 260 log cabins, not cloth teepees. Over the decades, the centralized Yazoo Indian town also established a defensive fort and a row of water or dirt ditches for personal body protection from the warring factions. There had been grave plots as well for the dead warriors..."

Breck whispers for his eardrums only with a smile, "Uoo! I am impressed."

The voice of Flamingo shouts out loud through the door. "The Native American Yazoo Indian tribe was concerned royalty. The Yazoo chief always married another Indian princess from one of the ancient Indian towns near the present-day city of Memphis, within the US State of Tennessee. The Yazoo Prince always married an Indian princess from the present-day city of Wilson, within the US State of Arkansas. Hernando de Soto described in his sailing journal for the world to see and hear and know. Each Indian male worked the maize crop field. Each Indian female sewed animal skins for cloth sitting outside in front of their wooden log cabin. The Yazoo Chief residence included a dwelling place on top of a high mound of red dirt, which was like a fortress. Hernandez descended the dwelling by means of two stairways like a Mexico ziggurat..."

Behind the butt-hole on Breck, Cinco loudly stomps up the staircase and hums a familiar song. Breck spins around with a gasp and swiftly moves backwards stumbling into the open archway on his private bedroom and stands at the archway.

A set of blonde-colored hair roots appears first at the top of the staircase, without the eyeballs on Cinco.

Breck slowly scoots backwards into his private bedroom and then gently closes the door without suspicion from his roaming brother Cinco. He spins around and rubs his hands jumping on top of the nicely made bed covers, sounding with a soft chuckle. He whips out his mobile telephone, typing on the tiny keyboard and stares down at the screen. "Now, Flamingo believes in that crap twinkle, twinkle star stuff. I don't. But I do need some valuable love guidance without going to my two brothers. Maybe, the stars will tell me my secrets," He softly reads out loud from the tiny screen. "Violet is a Virgo. The strength characteristics of a Virgo person are loyal, analytical, kind, hardworking, and practical. Wow! That describes the personality of Violet. One weakness of a Virgo person is shyness. Yup! I can verify. Violet is shy. The other weakness characteristics of a Virgo person is worry, critical of self, and works all day, without play. Yes, that sounds like Violet, also. A Virgo person loves animals, healthy foods, books, nature and cleanliness. A Virgo person hates rudeness, asking for help, and taking center stage.

"Yeah, that is Violet's sweet girly personality, also. A Virgo person pays attention to details and possesses a deep sense of humanity making that person one of the most careful signs of the zodiac. A Virgo possesses a tender heart, which is closed from the outer world. Ah! That's why Violet is not whining or whipping on Flamingo. The Virgo person is misunderstood, because the person lacks the ability to express their personal feelings, when she is opposed to reason. Wow! That explains her loving behavior around Flamingo. The symbolic name Virgin speaks well of her nature as she experiences everything for the first time. Yeah, Flamingo will definitely leave a bad taste with Violet on the first time. So, I'm here to change that for sweet, cute, shy Violet. A Virgo person possesses an organized life and adheres to defined borders within their mind set. Thus, a Virgo person is worried about the details, which is impossible to fix, and is concerned about matters that nobody else seems to care about. Yeah, this is talking about Flamingo. He doesn't care; but I care. A Virgo person knows how to solve a problem. She cares for people and builds a solid relationship with friends and treasures her friends. I do that too. Flamingo doesn't do that either. Flamingo likes to burn his wooden bridges or dirty britches or his stinky butt-hole all the same time," he laughs.

Breck types on the tiny keyboard and reads out loud the new information on the tiny screen from his mobile telephone. "Let's see what else is there. An intimate friendship with a Virgo person is earned by good deeds. Yes, yes, I am doing that now. This twinkle, twinkle star stuff is great. A Virgo person is dedicated to their family members. Yes, she is devoted to her parents and the cotton gin employees. A Virgo person understands tradition and the importance of responsibility and proud of their upbringing. Wow! This is Violet's personality also. A Virgo person shines at their work job which requires good organizational skills, dealing with paperwork, problem solving, and working with their minds and their hands. Wow! Violet talks about all her work at the cotton gin. She sounds just like this electronic astrology sign coming from thee outer space twinkling stars. Perfection is expected from their work habits by a Virgo person. A Virgo person saves money and puts something away to the side. Irrational spending is a bad habit. A Virgo person holds onto practical solution that cost too much. Wow! Violet is going to make me a great wife for me," he smiles.

Breck continues to read out loud from the screen on his mobile telephone. "A Virgo person is a private and defensive individual. This person should be respected but still wooed by the right mate. That's me! So, tomorrow, I will finish wooing Violet and have her for my delicious dessert on the weekend, without the knowledge or the presence of dipshit Flamingo or asshole Cinco."

Breck rolls over on his back spine and grins at the ceiling with joy. "What about me? What am I really as an outer space star or soldier?"

He types on the keyboard and reads out loud the tiny screen. "Aries is represented by the face and the horns of a ram. The image of the ram has appeared since the Babylonian times in the twinkling stars. Planet Mars rules the sign of Aries. Ancient Greeks spotted the blood red planet of Mars and associated it with the God of War, Ares. It was the Ancient Romans that renamed the planet, Mars. Whatever! That's some interesting mythological information, but it does not explain my personality." He types on the keyboard and stops reading out loud. "A Ram person is courageous, determined, confident, enthusiastic, optimistic, honest, and passionate. That's me! The Ram's weaknesses include impatience, moodiness, short-tempered, impulsive, and aggressiveness. Ugh! That's me too! A Ram person likes comfortable clothes, leadership roles, physical challenges, and individual sports. Yeah, that's me, too! A Ram person dislikes inactivity, delays, and not using one's talents. That's me. Aries is one of the most active signs within the zodiac. A Ram person is energetic and trouble. I am not major trouble. A Ram person looks for dynamic, speed, and competition and is always the first at everything from social gatherings to the work place. Yeah, I am like that. A Ram person takes an act before thinking about the consequences. Yeah, I do that too! A Ram person possesses excellent organizational skills and finishes several things at the same time, before the lunch meal," he laughs. "Yeah, I do that, too. However, a Ram will show impatience, aggressiveness, and vent anger at other people, if their challenge is completed. A Ram person is brave and not afraid of trial or risk, possessing youthful strength and energy all the time in completing their goal. A Ram person is the hero of the day and carries the weak and powerless people with him. Yeah, that's me too!"

He tosses the phone down on the bed covers and then exhales with happiness while mental pondering his new set of evil thoughts about courting and wooing Virgin Violet from his brother Flamingo and her virgin status from her body. Then, Breck rolls off the bed mattress and moves ahead sliding down into the leather seat, starting to play inside the private gamer machine. He kills each outer space alien with evil laughter.

Tuesday October 7th

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

McCory Cow Ranch location

Entrance hall setting

07:07 am

Iredell stands at the entrance door and stares at the top of the staircase, yelling out loud. "Boys, please, come down here to the ground floor! I'm heading out for the church building. Do you need anything before I go?"

Cinco appears first and dashes down the staircase, stomping over the floor and stops, standing a few feet from Iredell. Breck dashes down next and stands on the other side of Iredell. She views two of the three triplet brothers saying with confusion. "Where's Flamingo?"

"Here!" Flamingo carefully strolls down the grand staircase and holds the laptop computer bag, three wooden easels, three poster boards of maps, a portfolio of typed papers, and a single backpack between his two shoulder blades.

Iredell smiles, "Flamingo, you're wearing the wrong equipment, dear."

Flamingo smiles, "Naw, Grandmother. I gotta go back and work at the Lacy Springs library again today. I finally finished all my data research and footnotes. Now, I need to draw each map, pinpoint each geographical site, and prepare all of my visual materials that accompany my college honor dissertation."

Breck smiles, "Hmm! I didn't know judgment day had come to Lacy Springs. Will Flamingo pass the test, Cinco?"

Cinco laughs, "Hell yeah!"

Breck smiles, "O! Flamingo will past like always while the rest of the world passes him by," laughing.

Flamingo drops off the last step and stands in-between his two brothers sneering at the nose profile on Breck. "What the fuck does that mean, Breck?"

Iredell exhales with annoyance at her three grandsons. "Breck, practice your set of southern gentleman manners. And Flamingo, your academic event is on Friday morning, not this morning. I specifically recalled reading the letter from Burn U that the date is at the end of the week. And Arie and A.J. wants to attend your college presentation on Friday also."

Flamingo turns and frowns at Iredell. "You cannot. They cannot. The College Honor Challenge is only the chosen AP student and the finally judge Dr. Dunn..."

"Dunn!" Breck smiles. "I know a Dunn from the church. He has been helping with the bonfire pit and stuff. Good hardy worker like Brother Jesus. Is he the same one?"

Flamingo turns and sneers at the nose profile on Breck, "Naw! This is Dr. Dunn from Burn U. Dr. Dunn is a college professor there, not a poultry farmer here."

Breck frowns, "Whatever to you, too, Flamingo! I'm trying to practice my set of southern gentlemen manners here like Grandmother McCory is requesting, asshole." He laughs alone.

Cinco frowns. "You're going to miss another day of hard work with the Revival..."

"I can't help that, Grandmother," Flamingo nods. "Accomplishing the College Honor Challenge is step number six on my To-do-list for college."

"What is step number six, Flamingo?" She frowns.

Breck laughs. "Flamingo has numbered steps for achieving his death."

Flamingo sneers, "Smart ass! I have sequenced each one of my future events for maximum efficiency while reaching my accomplished goal becoming a brilliant medical physician for McCory Farms and Lacy Springs community."

"Wow! Is that your future val-a-dick-tore-me-up speech for next spring, dick-head?" Breck laughs with Cinco at Flamingo's ambition.

She exhales with more frustration, "Flamingo dearest, please, breathe. Breck dearest, stop talking. Now, I applaud your all your teenly efforts and effects and efficiencies, sweetheart. But you must stop and see the roses, before you stomp them dead. You are only seventeen..."

"I'm almost eighteen years old, Grandmother," Flamingo smiles.

She nods. "Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen years old, you are a teenage for two more years. Flamingo dear, please enjoy your young and exuberant carefree life, before you grow old and gray like me, dear. For your presentation, are you required to drive into big, bad metro city Birmingham today for any type of presentation? I trust your personal driving. But we wanted to see your performance."

Flamingo nods. "The College Honor Challenge is a judgment, not a performance."

Cinco laughs. "Dude, you're in! Don't spit on microphone or trip over your nasty pair of flip flops standing from the front row chair!"

"Good advice, bro!" Breck laughs and elbows Flamingo.

Flamingo sneers. "This is some serious stuff for saving future lives, Breck Brian."

Cinco frowns. "And the church revival is some more serious for saving your soul, Flamingo."

Silence lingers for a few seconds.

Iredell clears her dry throat, "Go on, Flamingo! Gimme a kiss!" Flamingo gently kisses her cheekbone pulling back with his smile. She nods. "I wish you all the best of luck with your visual aids for your college paper. But I agree with Cinco. You always do an outstanding job. Are you coming to the bonfire on Friday night?"

"Yes ma'am! I'll be there. The College Honor Challenge concludes at four in the afternoon."

She nods, "Very well! I wish the revival work and your college presentation were not on the same week. But I can't change that. Get going with your library work, Flamingo. Cinco and Breck, go and get into your vehicles. I'm leaving for the church grounds right now. I'll see both of you there," she spins around with a stern face and moves ahead, entering her vehicle, driving to the church.

The three brothers enter their own vehicles and head in different directions also.

Lacy Springs Church location

Grounds setting

08:08 am

Brother Neap stands in the rear floor of the same truck as the stage platform is still under construction. He sways side to side and smiles into the hand-held microphone. "I enjoy celebrating the love of life with music. We are going to celebrate life with Mr. Jesus. Everybody, sing out loud with your happy hearts and souls."

Doyle stands in the last row with his high school friends and leans over into the cheekbone on Breck. "Where is Flamingo located at?"

Breck stands beside Violet and softly claps to the music, shouting out loud for each pair of eardrums, that is near his body. "Flamingo is researching his college paper, typing his college paper, drooling on his college paper..."

"College! We're all still in high school."

"Flamingo is getting into the college something program, a fancy thing for more schooling and learning and studying. You know, Flamingo likes to study."

Doyle softly claps and laughs out loud. "Yeah, I have noted. He's been unavailable for..."

"...fun..." Breck laughs. "Yeah, Flamingo doesn't like fun."

"What!" He stops clapping and frowns at Breck, feeling confusion.

Breck smiles. "I mean his idea of fun is studying and schooling and learning all the damn time, even at home. That is his fun. Well, my fun is mudding, fishing, and dating fun and funny girls."

Doyle shakes his bone skull in silence then facing the preacher and starts clapping with the music again while pondering the childish behavior of Breck and the serious attitude of Flamingo.

Violet hears the conversation and then leans over into the cheekbone on Breck. "Yeah, I like dating and doing fun stuff with a fun and funny guy."

Breck leans over and whispers with a smile into her cheekbone. "His paper thing is due on Friday."

"Yeah, I remember that. He told me that too." She nods with a stern face. "Is Flamingo so serious...?"

"All the damn time! The boy can't laugh, sing, or fart for fun, without permission from...from someone."

She exhales with worry. "Well, I guess that I don't really know the real Flamingo."

"But you will. He's smart with all the answers, all the time. To be book smart, you gotta read and read and read a lot and all the time."

"Well, I guess, I'm not that smart."

Breck smiles. "And you gotta always study and study and study to become a medical physician all the time. Flamingo wants to cure cancer cells in all people including children, teens, adults and elderly."

She exhales with worry. "O! I didn't know that."

"Yeah! Flamingo is born to be brilliant studying and learning about everything. That requires schooling and more schooling. When I get my law degree, that's it. I'm done with school. Then I'll be ready to start a family," Breck reaches down and pats the head on top of the unknown child in front of his body, saying with a smile. "I love children. My heart is fond of boys as I am a boy male too."

She smiles. "I love children too. And I want to start a family after schooling and getting my college degree also."

He turns and winks at her. "Hey! We both think alike, Violet. Me and you, you and me."

Among the crowd of workers, Iredell slowly waddles through the people and finally reaches the back spine on her target, reaching out, touching the collar bone on Violet and says with a smile. "Violet!"

Violet still stands in the crowd and then spins around from Breck saying with a smile. "Yes ma'am."

Iredell nods. "Could you please be a dear and volunteer to teach the three years old class a sweet church song for the revival show? We have enough teens and adults choir groups singing, but I have numerous requests for the children choirs also."

"Yes, ma'am."

Iredell turns and smiles at Babbie. "Babbie, I need your singing talents with the four-year-old children, who are located inside the playroom."

Babbie nods with a smile and elbows Cinco. "Yes ma'am!"

Iredell turns and smiles at the other teens. "Cinco and Breck, you are going to be a pair of carpenters like Brother Jesus again."

Violet winks at Breck and then turns to smile at Iredell. "Grandmother McCory, I do believe that I need assistance with the three-year-old children. I have a song selected, but I need a guitar player, instead of using a loud instrumental from the marching band. The band is too loud. The voices of little boys will not be heard."

Iredell nods. "That's a very good point, Violet. I will try to find a guitar player..."

"Me!" Breck slaps his chest with a smile. "Grandmother, I can play a guitar. I play the instrument very well."

Iredell flips her hand near a stern face and looks down studying the computer screen with the list of other outstanding projects, "All right! Go on, Violet! Breck can assist Violet with the song, the boys, and the children's chorus. Get back to work, everyone!" She back steps and spins around moving back into the crowd of workers.

Breck follows the back spine on Violet and slowly moves ahead wearing with a smile.

Cinco swiftly dashes ahead, stops, and then swings around blocking his brother and leans over loudly sneering into Breck's face. "And I wanna remind you to remember that you are a southern gentleman, second, Brick Brain. And I wanna remind you to remember that she is a southern belle, first, who touches only Flamingo's naked arm."

Breck smiles, "I can do that."

He growls, "Actually, I don't want you to do that or anything else, Brick Brain. And I wanna remind you again to remember that I will be watching your ass and your hands, dude."

Breck grins. "And I wanna remind you also to remember that you should be warning Flamingo of that old axiom: All's fair in love and war," he scoots around Cinco with laughter and collides into the back spine on Violet, cuddling her into his arm pit, chatting about his new assignment, "Time to hustle and practice our church song for Almighty God, Brother Jesus, and all our heavenly angels. You know, the children choir might be singing that same song for a second social event, this year."

Cinco spins around and sneers at the back spine on Breck watching the brotherly deception.

At few minutes later, at 08:33 am, Breck and Violet slowly moves through the crowd entering the hallway, stopping in front of the first church classroom, which is silence, isolation, and lonely. He releases Violet. She enters first. He comes inside next wearing a smile and then views the kiddie classroom within the church property, standing a few feet from the archway.

The playroom is small and square-shaped made of dull-looking, tan-colored walls with numerous marks of colored crayons and tons of tiny human child hand prints. Scattered throughout the room are sets of tiny chairs and tables for the tiny kids. One wall displays a row of colorful high chairs for the older toddlers who require food and discipline for a naught behavior. The other three walls present numerous open toy boxes with spilled male and female kiddie toys over the floor and inside each wall corner. On the entrance wall, an open archway leaves into a set of lavatories for numerous kids to pee and shit.

Breck exhales with his newest task that gets him the baby then inhales the air gaging out loud, smelling an assortment of shit and pee odors, grabbing his nose holes and cringes in disgust. He slowly advances towards the center of the room and views numerous food stains on the dull-colored, dirty beige-tinted carpet that needs replacing. Maybe, the entire rom space needs renovation instead.

Violet sits on top of the tiny stool and faces the children talking and laughing with the boys.

He stops and stands behind the back spine on Violet, faking his smile, holding his breathe, "Wow! This is great. That was so easy getting out of cutting up more tall trees. Pick a song and teach the children to sing."

She fakes a smile and reminds Breck. "Uh, Breck! The children are three-year-old little boys."

"Yeah, right!"

She exhales with worry. "What song should we all sing at the bonfire?"

He shuffles around Violet and scoots away from the smelly boys advancing to the far wall with a set of living room furniture pieces, picking up the guitar and sits down in an adult chair and says with a smile. "I know one. I'm in the _Lord's Army_ which is sung to the tune of the _Old Gray Mare._ She ain't what she used to be. So, the _Lord's Army_ song goes. I may never march in the infantry, ride in cavalry, shoot in the artillery..."

She gasps in alarm and waves both of her hands, covering a pair of earlobes on one of the three-year-old males. "No guns. No violent. No war. Breck, this is a peaceful loving family-oriented revival church event."

"O yeah! I'm sorry. All right! How about we try an oldie but goodie kiddie song? If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands," he claps his hands three times as the sound echoes inside the room. Each three-year-old child claps a few times and then laughs out loud. Breck smiles, "If you're happy and you know it, stomp your feet." Each child stomps their feet with a giggle. "Do you see that? They picked it up really quickly."

She frowns. "The five-year-old children's choir is singing that song."

He frowns. "O sorry! How about the kiddie song, _Rise and Shine Arky, Arky_?

"... which are about fifteen musical stances too long for a three-year-old child."

He frowns. "This is a toughie. How do we train three years old?"

"They are potty trained for tinkling, not twanging," she giggles.

He winks at her. "Man, you're so cute and clever, Violet."

She smiles. "Thanks! The boys are cute and clever too. I love little boys. They are so cute."

He nods. "Let's try this simple tune, _He's Got the Whole World in His Hands_. I play the guitar to cue each child."

She smiles. "Excellent.

He sings. "He got the whole world in his hands. Go, Violet!"

She sings. "He's got a little bitty baby in his hands."

Breck, Violet, and each child sing out loud while clapping to the musical beat of the guitar strings. "He's got the whole world in his hands."

Breck sing solo: "He's got a mommy and a daddy in his hands."

Breck, Violet, and each child sing out loud. "He's got the whole world in his hands."

She sings. "He's got a brother and sister in his hands."

Breck, Violet, and each child sing out loud. "He's got the whole world in his hands."

Breck sings solo, "He's got you and me, baby, in his hands."

Breck, Violet, and each child sing out loud. "He's got the whole world in his hands."

Breck smiles. "Again!"

Breck, Violet, and each child sing out loud. "He's got the whole world in his hands."

Violet lifts her arms in the air with a smile. "We did it!"

"Right, babe!" He smiles and lifts his arm in the air.

Twelve hours later....

McCory Cow Ranch location

2nd floor level

Hallway setting

07:09 pm

Breck quickly climbs up the staircase after the church's supper meal and lands on top of the second floor dashing ahead with a grin and halts behind the shut private bedroom door.

Flamingo's voice carries through the wooden panels. "The Native American Yazoo Indian town always displayed tower walls for scouting prey and enemies and a continuous ditch system of fresh water forming a large canal from the main river system. The ditches were stocked with fish. The people were finely clothed in animal skins and shawls. They were salt-makers and salt-traders, procuring the salt from the sands of a stream feeding into the river. They were a peaceful people, living entirely on Indian corn. They possessed a complex religion with built temples, creative cult images, and a priest class using a platform mound for all their ceremonies. The Yazoo Chief traded horses and fowl for necessary supplies, learning to hoard up his gold, becoming very rich. The only physical proof of existence and prosperity for the Native American Yazoo Indian Tribe had been revealed in the year 1961, when the ground site discovered and then excavated the ancient artifacts. Large amounts of European trade goods, including beads, porcelain, muskets, kettles, mussel-designed river shell cooking pots and pan had been buried inside each dead grave as a grave gift."

Breck sniggers with a whisper while ease dropping on the speech. "No gold. I am not impressed."

"When the last Native American Yazoo Chief became elderly and sick before dying within his private bedchamber, he appointed his successor. The lucky bitch was his daughter, a War Princess. In the year 1729, a massive explosion introduced the start of Natchez War involving the Yazoo tribe members, who fought against an army of French soldiers and two Native American Choctaw and Chickasaw Indian tribes. After the bloody, messy end, the priests, the slaves, and the soldiers from the French army were killed. Each rest of the surviving Yazoo Indians became refugees, who were captured and taken by the Native American Chickasaw Indian tribe and sold into slavery here in the State of Alabama. The French army wiped out 200 men killed and captured 300 woman and children as slaves. Thus, the entire Native American Yazoo Indian tribe suffered greatly from their ill fate.

"One of the hundred refugees was the War Princess, who served as the Yazoo Chief. As the Yazoo slaves peacefully slumbered under the false protection, Chickasaw Indian braves attacked and killed every Yazoo member, but one. She escaped and fled on horseback as her people were also horse traders with their neighbors. The War Princess found her way to another Indian trading post around the present-city of Bessemer. While the enemy of her people moved westward into the present-day states of coastal Louisiana and Mississippi, War Princess armed with the European knowledge of the French language perfectly blended into the growing society of rural farm homesteads and large cotton plantations. In the late 1780, she moved again northwards into a large influx of Anglo-Americans settling into the new land property owned by the Spanish government. In the year 1793, she married an Italian immigrant, who was named Marco du Nicco. In the month of March in the year 1796, Marc du Nicco received a new name and a new land grant coming from President George Washington, establishing the first trading post on the outskirts of a growing settlement, which is noted on all geographical maps in the year 1809. The settlement grew big and strong and eventually was named Lacy Springs."

Breck smiles. "Uoo! I am impressed."

"With the introduction of swifter railway system, the fleet of slow-moving river boats became obsolete along with the quiet backwater towns and the group of peaceful Native American Indian tribes. Thus, the tribes of Native American Indians became forgotten over time. The bellicose Native American Chickasaw Indian tribe resettled from the south into the western territories of the new United States. Some of the minor Indian tribes were absorbed into the other Native American clans in the US States of Texas and Oklahoma. The Native American Yazoo Indian tribe was prosperous and popular at one time and then eventually died out of existence, like the rare Do-Do bird."

Breck frowns. "O! So sad!"

Flamingo shouts out loud through the door. "Back in present-day Mississippi, the current US Federal Government pulled up every fence post and destroyed each log cabin within the Yazoo community pretty much stealing all of the tribal lands. However, the War Princess kept in her heart and in her head a deep dark secret for many, many decades while avoiding hot juicy gossip and her crooked neighbors and her nastier and nosy Italian kin-folks. The first pioneer Trading Post provided household wares of pots and pans, gear for hunting, fishing, and bales of cotton from the local share croppers while eking out a tiny living for the owners.

"The Yazoo War Princess birthed four sons reuniting and restoring the pride and honor of her Native American Yazoo Indian tribe, without all of her native Yazoo lands. One night, she left out from the farm with her four sons using five wagons traveling back across the Mississippi state line steering towards her native homeland. She somehow and someway managed to steal all the gold nuggets that had been collected, traded, and held by her tribes-kin for centuries. The Yazoo town consisted of seventeen land acres, before her birth, and then quickly expanded into 415-land acres during her battle with her enemies. Another mystery here, the Teese Language is an isolate language spoken by the last true Yazoo Prince, in the year 1860, who died at the age of ninety-two years old."

Breck whispers with a smile. "Yes, I am shocked too."

Flamingo continues to practice out loud his prepared speech. "The Yazoo Land had been fought by mouth spit and gun shells from the year 1767, until the year 1804. The Yazoo Land was mostly composed of thick woodlands and wilderness of wild animals with a few small townships that had grown into a civilized city for both business and employment. After Alabama territory became an official state in the USA, in the year 1819. Then all the previous Yazoo lands ceded to the USA. The Yazoo Land controversy was perpetrated in year 1794 by the Georgia governor and the Georgia state legislature, when the greedy and crooked state politicians sold large tracts of the Yazoo lands starting in the beach town of Mobile up towards the eastern tip in Lacy Springs to their greedy friends at very low price leaving all of the Alabamians out of the picture. The fight for the Yazoo land claim became so heated and intense that the final legal battle reached the US Supreme Court in the landmark decision with _Fletcher versus Peck_ in the year 1810. The US Supreme Court ruled the fraud land deals were binding and valid."

Breck grins. "Uoo! I am not impressed."

"This was the first time that the US Supreme Court overturned an Alabama legal law of land possession and justified that the new greedy and crooked owners' claim to possess property lands within the growing Alabama territory. Some of the large tracts of Yazoo lands sold in the year 1794 A.D. were then re-sold to innocent third parties. This greatly complicated the legal litigation challenge for both sides of the law.

"In the year 1802, the State of Georgia ceded all Yazoo land claims of forty million acres to the US Federal Government starting west of its state line border going all the way towards the state line of Mississippi and upwards towards the northern eastern tip of Lacy Springs. The ancient Yazoo lands were estimated at 500,000 US dollars back then. If you calculate the price using today's inflation factor, the land value is three trillion dollars, US." Flamingo chuckles at the astronomical dollar figure.

Breck gasps with a whisper. "Yeah, I am shocked."

"The US Federal Government paid cash money and assumed the legal possession of the forty million acres of property land. The US Federal Government was young, birthed in the year 1776, and aged 40 years old in the year. On the 13th day of February, in the year 1796, First President George Washington made the decision and signed into law a bill authorizing gifts of land going back to the hard-working Alabamian residents, which was known as the Yazoo Act. The Alabama territory was awarded land grants of 1,000 acres-per-individual or family member including newborn babies. In the year 1797, there was a recorded baby boom in the great State of Alabama."

Breck smiles. "Ah! A baby..."

"The Yazoo lands were sparsely populated with people living in the central and west landscapes of Georgia, Alabama, and Mississippi stretching east to west right across the belly button of Bama. The name of the lands reminded the same coming from the original Native American Yazoo Indian tribe that lived inside the lower basin on the Yazoo River, within present-day US State of Mississippi, which is kinda like the Ancient Mayans from the country of Mexico. The forty million acreage of land became large geography portions of US States Alabama, Mississippi, Florida, South Carolina, and Tennessee going back westwards towards the Mississippi River. The Yazoo River was named by the French explorer Hernando la Salle, in the year 1682, referencing the Native American Yazoo Indian tribe that lived near the mouth of river. The exact translation of the word, Yazoo, means the 'River of Death'."

"Uoo! I'm so frightened," Breck giggles with a whisper.

The voice of Flamingo shouts out loud through the closed door. "The Yazoo River is 188 miles long and parallels the mighty Mississippi River. Mother Nature created a natural set of levees that flank the Mississippi River preventing the two great bodies of water to join and connect. The unique character of the Yazoo River is the numerous creek stream exhibiting hydrologic properties. During the American Civil War, the Confederates army used the first electrically detonated underwater mine in the river waters sinking numerous Union sea ships. There are 29 sunken ships discovered coming from the American Civil War beneath the deep waters on the Yazoo River.

"Researcher Leo Charrie began searching for any and all ancient artifacts first inside the original site of the Yazoo village, was named _Quwasilla_. He dug through the ancient platforms on each dirt mounds finding the loot. The loot consisted of desecrated graves from numerous Yazoo ancestors, which are currently housed and stored in numerous historical museums within the State of Mississippi.

"However, Charrie postulated all the ancient mounds had been desecrated long before the year 1961. He felt someone, before him, might have stolen a greater tribal heirloom from the Yazoo Tribal, a chest of golden nuggets.

"In the end, everyone was happy, except for the scattered tribes of Native American Indians, who were original birthed and born in the American lands. In conclusion, the wicked US Federal Government purchased the rest of the Native American Indian lands then turned around giving the acreage for free to the white man for new homes and future crop fields. Thus, further original property land claims from the clan of Native American Indian tribes were extinguished using a series of legal law US Federal Government treaties in the year 1820. The end."

"Yeah, the end for you, Flamingo, and the beginning for me, man!" Breck moves ahead with a smile and enters his bedroom, slamming the door shut, busting out loud in bouts of evil laughter of happiness.

Three days later...

Thursday October 9th

Lacy Springs Library location

Reference room setting

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

05:31 pm

"Shit! I'm late," Flamingo stares down at the laptop screen and scoots the rolling desk chair back from the writing desk inside the private library study room, standing upright without stretching all his numbed limbs. He wears his traditional teenly high school outfit with a red tinted tee shirt with a string of vile words.

Last night, before the bedtime ritual, Cinco entered Flamingo's bedroom and collided into the cheekbone on his brother, whispering about Breck and Violet. Flamingo nodded with a stern face in silence. Cinco left Flamingo and went back to his bedroom without Breck's knowledge.

Inside the library room with four walls of dull tan-colored paint and a single mounted bright lamp, the writing desk offers a solitary place for studying academic tests or composing your thoughts or sleeping away from home or writing a composition. Flamingo gathers up his materials and the laptop stuffing the items back down into the school backpack, swinging around with a stern face, strutting out the study room towards the open archway, exiting the library building.

Lacy Springs Church location

Parking lot setting

05:46 pm

Flamingo slides down into his sports car and races ahead toward the church property, parking inside an empty spot, killing the engine. He slides out and slams the car door, racing ahead towards a newly built performance stage platform that smells like woody pine. "Damn! What's the fucking point of a revival, if everyone is not here right now?" He turns to face the side of the church building and quickly dashes through the open archway, running down an empty hallway, turning to the side door. He busts open the double doors and stops inside the archway seeing the newly painted pale blue tinted wall and scattered musical instruments, and tiered dark colored singing pews inside teen's chorus music room. The chorus room is empty without seeing chatty teens and hearing musical notes. "Damn! Where are all the teens and kids and adults? Am I early today?"

He back steps from the music room archway and swings to face an empty hallway, dashing back down the same empty hallway, exiting the church and then slowly pads ahead towards the Fellowship Hall.

The _Fellowship Hall_ building is a funny and fancy name for a lunchroom, where church's elderly ladies prepare and cook the finest meals here in the Lacy Springs, maybe, the US State of Alabama, maybe, the entire Southern region, and maybe, the entire USA.

Flamingo smells the good food forgetting to eat a proper lunch while calculating and programming the geographical coordinates of the gold nuggets on ancient Yazoo lands.

He stops and opens one of the doors standing inside the archway, swallowing back down the bitter bile down his dry throat with the surprise. He sees numerous empty paper plates of eaten food and a few bloated, red-colored sunburned faces on each tired church worker coming from the heated, hot sunshine rays. He smiles and swings to face the entrance wall of food tables, grabbing a plate, piling food to the ceiling.

He back steps from the last food table and carefully moves ahead sitting down beside Retta Jean. She wears dirty sweat and stinks in a pair of blue jean overalls and a short-sleeved dirty white tee shirt, and a pair of worn, dirty brown tinted cowgirl boots, eating plate of food. He chews the food at her nose profile. "Have you seen Violet?"

Retta Jean eats on the food, "Went home."

"Okay." He swallows the food and softly asks. "Have you seen Breck?"

"Went home."

"Okay." Flamingo softly repeats turning to see a thin crowd of church workers, without viewing Breck. Flamingo had driven on the only roadway that veers towards their farm house coming from the church building, without meeting Breck's pickup truck also.

So, he concludes with a loud growl and finishes devouring the food plate that Breck is not home, so he must be still located here at the campus ground on the church property. Flamingo gobbles down the food and then burps out loud slowly standing upright from the metal chair and back steps, dumping a dirty paper plate into the open trash can.

Flamingo spins around and slams his face into a hard body, back stepping with a deadly sneer.

Cinco sneers back with a sour frown into the nose bridge on this middle brother wearing dirty sweat, presenting a dirty outfit of shredded blue jeans, a white-tinted, short-sleeved tee shirt, and a pair of dirty black tinted work boots. He says, "What in the fuck are you doing here at the church grounds, Flamingo? Where in the hell are you going on the church grounds, dude? Do you possess a set of seeing eyeballs? The parking lot is empty of cars, vans, trucks, sports cars, and horses," he laughs alone. Some of the teens and adults enjoy using their personal steed to perform some of the heavy log work and the construction building of the center stage like an old fashion family of Alabama pioneers from the 1800s. Cinco frowns. "The sun falls down within thirty minutes. You need to get back home."

Flamingo quickly lies and smiles. "I'm here now. I was going to ask Grandmother Iredell. I was looking for Grandmother Iredell. I was going ask her what I can do for the Revival Fire event, right now, tonight, before the sun falls down within the thirty-minute deadline."

Babbie appears at the open archway wearing a dirty outfit too, consisting of a gray tinted, long-sleeved shirt, a pair of faded blue jeans, and a pair of gray and blue cowgirl boots. She slowly moves ahead staring with a stern face, feeling annoyance and jealousy at Flamingo.

Flamingo had been exempted from all the revival church activities. The hard work was taking up all her free time during the Fall Break vacation time from high school, but she was helping her guy Cinco. Cinco wanted to help his grandmother do a good job as the chairperson.

Cinco frowns. "It's almost sunset, Flamingo. Almost all the church workers have gone home. There's plenty of work with a needed hand on tomorrow morning at eight o'clock, if you're interested."

He gasps in shock. "Tomorrow! I got my College Honor Challenge oral presentation to present at the high school tomorrow morning. I can't come to the church tomorrow morning or the afternoon. But I'm here now. I can do something to help now. Thanks for the suggestion thou."

Cinco exhales with frustration. "Look! Your college thingy is important to you, Flamingo. I think Grandmother McCory is talking with Brother Neap and the rest of the revival committee folks inside the church. Don't bother her too much, Flamingo! She's an elderly senior citizen and extremely tired from the day's activities wanting to come back to our house and sleep the day off. So, just be brief with her precious time!"

He nods with a fake smile. "I will. I want. Thanks for the advice, man!" He scoots around Babbie and Cinco exiting the fellowship hall and then halts, sounding with a gasp. He views the church building doors. "Where is she located inside the church building? I could be here for hours trying to find my grandmother. Cinco didn't tell me," he spins around and the gags on his mouth spit.

Inside the open archway, Violet exits the Fellowship Hall building while Beck holds the door open for her person. Violet emerges out with a smile. Then he dashes ahead and cuddles her sweet-smelling body into his rib cage slowly moving them ahead towards the parking lot and their individual vehicles for their individual home.

The internal guts on Flamingo plus the tattling voice of Cinco do not lie. Breck is still here at the church grounds with Violet.

Flamingo veers ahead with a sneer, stops, and stands in front of the couple, sounding with a low growl at Violet. "What the fuck is this, Violet?"

Breck stops and then looks up, sounding with a gasp, "Flamingo!"

Violet stops and looks up with a frown pointing her manicured finger in green hue at Flamingo. "Well, I should be asking you that question, sir. You ditched your grandmother, your church, and your girl for some college project. Flamingo, we are all still in high school, not college. We all haven't even graduated high school, not college. There is plenty of time for college, four or five years."

Flamingo gasps in shock. "Four or five years! I don't have four or five years of college. I'm going to become enrolled and then graduate college in two years. Then four years of medical school including my fellowship..."

"...to become a brilliant medical physician, discovering the cure for cancer," she nods with a smile. "I will be very proud of you, Flamingo. But can you feel the same or be here for me, too? I'm not genius smart, like you. I'm not in the AP program at school, like you. But I'm going to college, like you, getting a plain old management college degree, so my parents can retire. Then, I'm going to operate my daddy's plain old cotton gin producing bales of cotton from all the local farms that produce cotton bales," she turns and smiles at Breck and then returns to see Flamingo, exhaling with confusion. "But you wanna impress the world, the universe, the heavens. I don't wanna impress the heavens, only my man. My man and my person will become a cute little family while living a simple life style here in Lacy Springs. My man is the one who likes to work and attend the church revival week also."

He nods with a sad face. "Violet, I'm so sorry here."

She exhales. "You're special, Flamingo. You will accomplish some great things. I know that. I can feel that. You are destined to do fantastic feats of greatness. I am not smart enough to word it exactly the way I feel. But you'll be wonderful like always with everything you do." Violet turns and smiles at Breck. "I gotta go right now. My mama and daddy drove home before me wondering about my delayed whereabouts. I will see ya'll tomorrow morning, bright and early at eight o'clock like always, Breck."

Breck leans over with a smirk and whispers into her cheekbone. "I told you. He's moody all the damn time."

Violet exhales with annoyance at Breck then turns facing Flamingo, wearing her fake smile, "Uh huh! Well, bye, Flamingo!" She moves ahead and shouts out loud with a stern face. "Good luck on your college thingy tomorrow, Flamingo," she enters her car and exits the church property for her home.

On top of the manicured grass, in the sinking sunlight, Breck quickly scoots around Flaming and moves ahead with a soft chuckle and folds the dirty paper items between his two palms placing the items down into an outside trashcan. He had stolen the items from his personal home for his special dinner date with his new girlfriend Violet. Cinco might have seen Breck also stealing a pair of eating disposable plates and utensils from the church's Fellowship Hall for the special dinner date down inside the ground basement. Cinco is a smart-ass guessing about Breck's evil plot. Well, Breck will take care of that tattle-tail rat, once he gets home before Flamingo.

Flamingo spins around with a sneer and reaches out slapping his cupped hand at the collar bone on Breck.

Breck reaches up and slaps his hand over Flamingo's knuckles, swiftly spinning around with a sneer, flinging Flamingo's arm in the air. Breck holds three arms into the air and leans over growling into the nose bridge on Flamingo. "Don't touch me, every again, son! Unless, you want a real rumble with real blood..."

"You stole my girl!" Flamingo jerks his arm away from Breck and whines with a sissy tone. The triplet brothers are the same height, weight, and arm strength.

"You stole my dolly!" Breck imitates with his mother's soprano voice and then chuckles out loud.

He gasps in shock. "I...."

"You have not been here to perform any work for the church, for the members and for Almighty God," Breck slaps both of his hands over his dirty clothes without producing a dust. "Look at me! This shirt displays my blood, my sweat, and my grass stains!" His clean, white-tinted tee shirt contains a set of yellow stains from his lunch meal and green-tinted grass stains from wrestling with the five boys on the dirt and grass playground for fun. And the red blood is not Breck's.

One of the other little kids tripped over his oversized cowboy boot then fell on top of the hard pavement, after running down the brick steps, busting his bottom lip. Breck came to the rescue and hauled his tiny ass up from the pavement, carrying him back to his mother. Then, the bleeding kid and crying mother went home.

However, Breck does not need to ever tell the true demon tail to his brother Flamingo.

On top of the manicured grass, Flamingo exhales with confusion and studies the dirty shirt on his brother Breck. He sees the blood, the food stains, and the grass stains in silence.

Breck continues to stand in place and slaps his chest again, saying with a sneer. "I'm here along with Violet, Cinco, Brett, Doyle, Yancy, Fannie, Acton, and all our other teen friends helping our Grandmother McCory. Where were you located, this morning and afternoon, Flamingo? We all know how important your college thingy is to you. And we all have a job to finish for our Grandmother McCory." He moves ahead and bumps into his collar bone into Flamingo, wearing a sour frown. "Go back home, bro! Finish your college thingy, Flamingo! Then, come to the final night of Revival Fire tomorrow night. Grandmother McCory is only expecting that much of you, Flamingo, and nothing else more, son." He spins around and struts ahead, entering his truck, leaving the church property for their shared farm house.

McCory Cow Ranch location

Warm temperatures with moonlight and dull stars

2nd floor level

Bedroom setting with Flamingo

06:06 pm

After viewing the bright red-tinted taillights on Breck's rolling pickup truck, Flamingo stood on the grass at the church for a few more minute then exhaled with frustration, moving ahead to his car, slowly steering back home. He entered the house alone and padded to his bedroom without seeing either one of his two brothers.

Inside his bedroom, Flamingo rests on top of the nicely made bed covers and stares at the painted tan-colored ceiling feeling shitty.

This late afternoon before sunset, his eyeballs caught both Violet and Breck coming out from the Fellowship Hall. However, his neurons had not seen them together inside the eating auditorium within the dining room proper.

So, Breck and Violet had been eating a shared supper meal together and alone, only the two of them, within the exclusive private space down inside the basement of the Fellowship Hall.

The Fellowship Hall is used for numerous food banquets for a happy celebration and a blessed couple marriage wedding.

Then, his neurons brilliantly remembered the argumentative points coming out from Breck's lips and active mind about Flamingo's absence work assignments for his Grandmother McCory.

He exhales with worry and then inhales with frustration still staring at the nicely painted rows of ceiling wooden planks while feeling his worried heart, without eating the nutritious supper meal with his two brothers or working on his important oral presentation in front of Professor Dun tomorrow morning at eight o'clock.

He can't stop staring at the wooden planks on the ceiling and blinking his moist eyeballs.

Friday October 10th

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

Lacy Springs Church location

Center stage platform setting

07:35 am

On top of the newly constructed wooden center stage performance platform, Brother Neap stands in place and nods his gray tinted hair roots, saying with a smile to the standing audience members. "This stage platform is mighty fine, ya'll. I don't think I'll wanna leave from here, after our Friday night revival show."

A loud male voice shouts out loud with laughter within the nois crowd. "It's going to rain on this Friday night, Brother Neap."

"So, the Will of Almighty God will be done, yet, again." he laughs. "Since, we have gone to all the trouble of erecting two center wooden stages now, let us sing and shout out loud using our pair of healthy lungs and our healthy bodies for this lovely day and springtime weather with our theme song. Hit it, Miss Rachel!"

The organ music blasts out loud with a happy musical tune into every pair of eardrums, _When the Saints Come Marching In._

McCory Cow Ranch location

2nd floor level

Private bedroom setting with Flamingo

07:46 am

Inside the warm bed linens, Flamingo flings his palm at the ringing alarm clock and slaps the buzz button, groaning out loud with annoyance, flipping his face of blonde whiskers at the bright red-tinted digits. "Shit!"

The red digits read 7:46 a.m.

Right now, he is supposed to be driving his sports car and arriving at Lacy Springs High School classroom for the College Honor Challenge event. The challenge starts precisely at eight in the morning with no exceptions.

He jumps down on the floor and stands upright wobbling side to side and as his brain cells wobble also. His active mind immediately replays the love scene from last night.

Right now, his triplet brother Breck is located at the church grounds this morning, probably flirting with Violet.

At the bedroom frame, Flamingo rubs a pair of dirty hands over a set of sleepy crumbs inside both of his eye sockets, cleaning the yellow crust from the corners of his two eyeballs. Then he scratches an ass with his two finger pads while smoothing out the hair curls with the other hand, locating the cap on the floor. He squats down and lifts the item placing the cap in the proper ass-backwards position like always, grinning for shitty fun. Today, Flamingo decides to wear his favorite pair of wrinkled, dirty, food-stained camouflage-patterned cargo pants of green, brown, and tan, tossing over his naked chest a clean, solid tan-colored tee shirt, replacing the usually nasty vile-worded one for the special day.

College Professor Dunn doesn't seem to have a sense of dry or wet or dark or witty humor, only serving as an old foot stool at Burn U, based on his stale and steady streams of repetitive emails coming from his university office with the written instructions, rules, and regulations of the College Honor Challenge.

Flamingo slides his ten naked toes into the familiar nasty pair of flip flops stomping from the bedroom, racing down the staircase and yells out loud throughout the house. He runs down the semi-dark hallway, "Cinco! Hey, Cinco! Cinco, I gotta leave the house. Cinco, are you eating in the kitchen?" He lands on top of the floor and scans an empty entrance hall, spinning around towards the narrow hallway, racing down the semi-darkness. He wonders why there isn't better lightning down here.

He enters the kitchen and halts seeing a pile of package food items on top of the red tiled counter.

Grandmother McCory left a hand-written paper note on top of the kitchen counter for her grandson. **Eat food! Good luck, Flamingo! Love all your family members!**

Flamingo remembers that his other family members are required to report for work detail at the church today while helping build a bonfire pit, the two center stage platforms, and three fireworks rafts. Iredell has forgiven his earthly sins too allowing Flamingo an exemption of his heavenly church duties at the Revival Fire activities. But he will be present this late afternoon singing to the Lord and dancing with Violet beside his other family members at the Revival Fire social event.

"Shit! I can't be in two places at once." Flamingo grabs a stack of three breakfast bars, a sweaty bottle of chocolate milk, and a warm tin can of dark soda in both hands, swiftly dashing ahead towards the garage space and enters his sports car. He dumps the food items on top of a leather gray portfolio inside the passenger seat then trots his two legs around the front bumper of the car, sliding down into the driver's seat. The car fob rests inside the car holder, since no one can steal a vehicle at the McCory Cow Ranch. Or one can face the cold barrel of a shotgun instead.

Flamingo starts the car button with one hand and then swings the same hand over grabbing the breakfast bar. He jerks the food into his lips and tears off the paper with his teeth, mouth-spitting out the non-edible part on the clean floor mat. He woofs downs the bar in two bites with giant hungry as a growing teen while working a gasoline and clutch pedal with his two flip flops, slowly moving the car forward from his assigned parking spot inside the six-car garage building, carefully steering down the private driveway in respect of his mother and his house. He stops at the end of the driveway and looks for any approaching cars, turning the sports car onto the main roadway, gunning the engine. He speeds down an empty roadway in the early morning hours heading towards the local high school, without a single traffic car or a police car behind his taillights and as each vehicle with a family unit is located at the church grounds attending the Revival Fire activities today.

Church location

Hot temperatures with bright sunlight

07:57 am

Sunlight in his eyeballs, Brother Neap taps the headset on his skull and as his voice echoes throughout the loud speaker to audience, expanding both of his arms even with the wooden planks. "Welcome, one and all! Welcome to the Lacy Springs Church Revival. The word, revival, refers renewal of life, which is particularly joyful for our lovely town. We celebrate the restoration of life, consciousness of mind, vigor of body, strength of character, acceptance of heart, and the revival of old ways with love and devotion. Please join me in prayer!" He bows his fat two chins down into his chest. "Dear Almighty God, Brother Jesus, the Holy Spirit and all heavenly angels, please..."

School location

AP classroom setting

08:01 am

"Fuck me!" Flamingo slams the brake pads and skids the sports car across an empty parking lot, stopping sideways, killing the engine. He opens the door and slides out, slamming the door with a flip-flip, racing ahead through the parking lot, over the smooth walkway, into the air-conditioned school building, down the familiar hallway, and then halts sounding with a gasp.

He stands and hides behind a partially open doorway viewing an overcrowded classroom which is filled with numerous young familiar and unfamiliar teenage faces. Each face attends Lacy Springs High School or one of the numerous public schools around Madison, Limestone and Morgan Counties. Each face is seventeen or eighteen years old and wears a light or dark colored business jacket or skirt.

He gasps in shock and whispers for his eardrums only, "Damn!"

Flamingo has forgotten part of the vocal presentation includes a visual business dress wardrobe, oral speaking skills, and an academic validation of his research paper theme.

Inside the yellow tinted AP classroom setting, college professor Dunn displays the same outfit of brown hues and stares at the overcrowded room of eager and happy high school students missing one particular high schooler. He slowly turns with a smile and sees that tardy teenager standing behind the partially opened doorway. He motions with a hand at the first column of writing tables for Flamingo.

Flamingo slams open the door entering the classroom, viewing rows of students then sounds with a loud gasp. The door automatically closes shut in silence. He continues to flip-flop down a crowded aisle of students inside an individual student writing desk and scoots around numerous colorful and professional paper poster boards, wooden or metal presentation easels, colored cloth backpacks, and a few dark leather briefcases.

"Fuck me!" He whispers for his eardrums only.

Flamingo forget his visual materials, consisting of the related geographical maps and glossy photographs, which are nicely taped onto an individual easel and is required for his oral presentation.

Last night, on top of his neatly made bed covers, Flamingo was too sad and depressed to eat and think, after spying and spotting both Breck and Violet alone and together coming out from the church's Fellowship Hall. He did not remember to store all his visual materials for his college research paper inside his personal sports car for the event.

The early morning hours, he was too tired and confused from his lack of sleep, his lack of food, and his tardiness while running behind his usual prompt appointment schedule and again did not remember to load up all his visual materials for his research paper inside his personal sports cars.

Inside the AP classroom, his active mind snaps back into the reality. Flamingo totes one hundred and fifty pages of typed black-tinted words and held by a gigantic office clip exhibiting all his researched and documented evidence of the mysterious Yazoo Lands here within US State of Alabama.

Flamingo slowly moves down the first row. Every pair of eyeballs burns his back spine and as each set of neurons clicks with nervous activity. He spins around with a fake smile and views some of the curious faces, sliding down in the last student desk while staring at Dunn.

In front of the classroom, Dunn stands, not tall, in front of the white board. The white board displays in a row of big, bold, red-colored letters consisting of the three words: College Honor Challenge. He nods without pointing his finger to each face. "Good morning, Challengers! I am Dr. Newt Don Dunn. I am an American History professor at Birmingham University. Welcome to the annual College Honor Challenge event. Today is both the exciting time and the last day of your apprenticeship with me. You and I will be here all day and night long, if we must. At the end, after all challengers have presented their oral presentation, please leave your college research paper on top of your student writing desk and your visual aid materials. I will come and collect each one after you have left the classroom and the high school grounds. Now, I will start the challenge with the first challenger. As each one of you entered the classroom, there was a clear small glass bowl that contained numerous white slivers of paper. Each challenger reached down and plucked out one tiny sliver of papers into your cupped hand. Now, I do believe in a democratic society. However, competition is not democratic. Competition is vile, vicious, and vain. Thus, to honor the spirit of competition, each challenger had a random chance of presenting their oral project first. Some social scientists argue that the first presenter receives the full benefit of the competition as he or she is the person to beat, figuratively. In the reverse, some social scientists believe the first person becomes the handicapped competitor with the first attack of disadvantage during the competition as each new presenter murders the prior one. I do not possess a scientific theory or carry an opinion here either. However, there is one sliver of paper left inside my clear glass bowl."

He reaches inside and pulls out the paper viewing the number, saying with a smile. "The number on this piece of paper is not important here at this moment. The matter of proper, prompt, and promise is important here at this moment. Thus, I will discharge this sliver of paper and chose the first presenter, who might not or might have the advantage within the College Honor Challenger. Without saying, this competition is personal with me, not against your fellow teen student mates. However, I am the judge, jury, and justice of college credits here. So, the first presenter to orate their challenge project them for the College Honor Challenger is Breck Freehurst Balegreen, the third..."

"McCory. I am named Breck Freehurst McCory, the fourth," Flamingo shouts out loud and slowly stands upright from the last student chair in the first column of writing desks, wearing a sour frown. His teenly day is not going easy or looking good, so far.

However, Flamingo refuses to be insulted with that nasty sur-name again. He slowly moves back up the narrow aisle sounding with a series of soft sneers, tripping over each parked easel and upright standing poster board presentations materials associated with each smiling student and then Flamingo exits the first row. He slowly moves ahead with a stern face towards the white board in front of the classroom and then swiftly spins around standing in front of the seated teenagers. He exhales with annoyance and cradles the one hundred fifty paged research paper in both of his hands. He parts his lips for the first word explaining his vocal presentation.

"Where is your business suit of brown or gray or green hue, Mr. McCory, the fourth?" Dunn sits in an office desk chair of red leather tint in front of an empty wooden office desk surface staring at the clothes and then the nose profile on Flamingo.

Flamingo continues to stand and exhales with more annoyance staring down at the title page on his well-written research paper for his college honor challenge. "I forget that I was required to dress in business attire this morning, Professor Dunn."

He smiles. "Do you not possess a pair of polished or dull leather shoes either, Mr. McCory, the fourth?" The audience of cut-throat teens softly chuckle at the posed question.

Flamingo stares down at the title page. "I do possess a pair of leather shoes, Professor Dunn."

He grins. "Are you going to use a set of visual aids, such like, a computer screen, an easel of paper maps, or a multi-colored single piece of poster board, Mr. McCory, the fourth?"

"I have elected not to use any type of visual aids for my oral presentation here, Professor Dunn?"

He exhales. "Well, I hope that you are a very vocal speaker with all of your geographical points to me and the pair of eardrums on each teen challenger. I do believe that it is hard to present a geographical spot of places or property or pets, without a geographical map that visually shows those particular places or property or pets. What do you say to that, Mr. McCory, the fourth?"

"I will do my very best, Professor Dunn."

He frowns. "I like to hear that a student desires to do their very best academic work. That is very encouraging to me. However, I am displeased with your current sloppy and inappropriate clothing attire, this morning, Mr. McCory, the fourth. And I am also disappointed in your lack of one single visual aid, which is not a requirement, but it is an excellent reference point for any type of geographical place or property or pet presentation, during an oral speech. And I am worried that you will not receive any college academic credits from the College Honor Challenge, Mr. McCory, the fourth. I will remind here. I am the judge, jury, and justice here. Thus, I will dismiss you and your thin stack pages of typed works," he turns with a grin and writes down a math number with a red-tinted ink pen on top of the pad ripping off a single sheet of lined notebook paper, wiggling the page in the air towards Flamingo. "This single piece of lined notebook paper lists your college credit points into Burn U. Thank you for the wonderful presentation, Mr. McCory, the fourth. You may return to your student chair. The next challenger possesses the sliver of paper with the typed number one. Who possesses math number one for the new challenger here in the College Honor Challenge?" He views the audience of students.

Flamingo slowly scoots sideways and gently grabs the wiggling sheet of paper from the cupped hand of Dunn, viewing a red-tinted math number zero. He has received zero college credits for his oral presentation within the College Honor Challenge. He slowly spins around and leaves the front of the classroom feeling great disappointment and total embarrassment, slowly moving back down the narrow aisle and slides down into the last student chair on the first column of students.

Within the overcrowded, heated, and smelly classroom environment, a female teen with short black colored hair strands, a slender body frame, a pair of pink-tinted eyeglass rims, and a tone of yellow tinted skin tone swiftly stands upright from the third chair, within the fourth column of writing desks, waving both of her arms with the sliver of paper and says with a giggle and a grin. "Me! I hold the official math number one sliver of white paper. I am ready to present my oral speech, Dr. Dunn."

Dunn continues to sit behind the empty teacher desk and motions with a hand and a smile towards the female student. "Please come up and face the students, bringing along all of your visual aids for her personal presentation of the hot topic, the Land of Yazoo."

The female teen slowly stumbles ahead and totes her visual aids stopping in front of the white board, setting up the easel with glossy photographs and professional land maps. She spins around and faces the students, slapping her chest, saying with a smile and a nod. "I am Slavona Palminto. I wear a blue colored business suit with a pair of matching low heels for my special oral presentation to Professor Dun from Birmingham University. The title of my oral presentation is called _Wild Man of Alabama._ Most people do not realize this, but the territory of Alabama was once wild and wooly with thick groves of trees and low-lying blueberry bushes. One of the most famous outlaws within the territory of Alabama was named Robert Bruce Sims. Mr. Sims was born in the year 1839. He was a former Confederate veteran from the American Civil War and had been captured during the war also. He was released after the war and then returned back to his farm here in Alabama within Choctaw County," she smiles and points at the paper map of Alabama. "Choctaw County is right here on this Alabama map and it is my home county also." She drops her hands and slaps her skirt. "Mr. Sims started trouble within his home community when he decided to brew and sell individual bottles of moonshine at his personal home residence using the name of Almighty God. One of the local merchants reported Mr. Sims to the US Federal Government authorities in the year 1891. Then Mr. Sims became very violent and burned down the home of the local merchant and murdered most of the family members. The local town people became anger and captured Mr. Sims, his wife, and all his children hanging the entire family by their individual throat muscles from a single branch on a gigantic tall oak shade tree. However, the hot rumor drifting around Choctaw County goes that Mr. Sim had robbed an Indian princess during the American Civil War and he had taken all her golden bars, which was the Land of Yazoo's golden treasure chest. So, each golden bar was buried with Mr. Sim near my hometown. So, I have found the gold, ya'll. Thank you so much! I love public speaking. And I'm going to become a future State of Alabama politician and then run for the office of the President United States of America, one day." The audience of teens softly applaud for the ambition AP student.

Within the first column of chairs, inside the last student writing desk, Flamingo slams both hands on top of the empty, hard surface and gasps in shock whispering for his eardrums only. "She entitled her college paper. The title of my college paper is supposed to the _Land of Yazoo_ , the college challenge topic. I don't understand. And she didn't use the geographic map to locate the Yazoo lands or the home location of the Yazoo Princess, only the Yazoo gold bars. But the gold is here in Lacy Springs, not there in Choctaw Country, which is a Native American Indian name too. I don't understand any of this. And I am totally confused too."

"Thank you, Challenger! Your oral and visual presentation was very nice!" Dunn grins and continues to sit in front of the empty office desk surface and writes down a math number on the single sheet of paper, ripping off the paper, waving it in the air to Slavona.

Slavona scoots sideways and snatches up the single piece of paper viewing the information, wearing a smile. She moves sideways and quickly gathers up all her visual aids tumbling back towards her student writing desk and sits down presenting a giggle and a grin of her college accomplishment.

Dunn smiles at students. "Who possesses the sliver of paper with the math number two? Please, come up and get settled for your oral presentation, Challenger."

In the last column of writing desks, in the fourth chair, a teen male slowly stands upright from the seat and wears a smile, slowly shuffling through the narrow aisle, carrying an easel of paper maps and a stack of glossy white-tinted photographs. He quickly displays his materials and spins around facing the students. "I am Hutcheon Hollostone. I don't really enjoy wearing a black tinted business suit with a suffocating red colored necktie; but I do enjoy learning to adapt into the business world, where I will one day become a future employee. My college challenge paper is entitled _The Witch Hunter of Alabama_. Rube Burrows was born in the year 1854, in Lamar County," he leans over and taps the location on the easel of the Alabama paper map. "The location of Lamar County is here, and this is my birth place too," he stands upright and smiles at the student audience members. "Mr. Burrow was raised in an atmosphere of witchy superstition. He always carried around the following items on his body: an eye of a newt, a toe of a frog, the course wool of a bat, and the leg of a dead lizard. Mr. Burrows started robbing a series of choo-choo trains at the age of eighteen years old which is not much older than any one of us are sitting here inside this classroom. During one of his train robberies, he came across and then seized the hidden box of the Yazoo golden coins and then hid the treasure box somewhere there on his private land property within Lamar County. In the year 1890, Mr. Burrows tried to rob a store merchant and was shot to death. When the blue-tinted dead body of Rube Burrows was shipped back to his hometown Sulligent, within Lamar County, the choo-choo train stopped for passengers at numerous Alabama small towns, where a line of curious and rude native citizens enjoyed viewing a blue, tinted dead Rube Burrows, snatching off numerous vile souvenirs from his cold body, such like, a button from his ratty sports coat, an individual red tinted hair strand from his head, and even his pair of polished and worn brown tinted cowboy boots. Yeah, that's really sick, ya'll! Yes, real people are really, mentally sick, too, ya'll! So, in conclusion, the box of Yazoo gold is really hidden and buried somewhere on the land property of Rube Burrows, within Lamar County, not within Choctaw County, like some people claim. I have ended my oral presentation. Dr. Dunn." The audience of teens softly applaud the ambition AP student.

"Thank you, Challenger! Your oral presentation was very nice!" Dunn supplies the number or college credits on another sheet of paper to Hutcheon.

Hutcheon scoots sideways and snatches up the single piece of paper viewing the information, presenting a grin. He moves sideways and quickly gathers up all his visual aids tumbling back toward his chair, still smiling from his college accomplishment.

Dunn smiles at the students. "Who possesses the sliver of paper with the math number of three? Please come up and get settled for your oral presentation, Challenger."

On the first column of student writing desks, in the last chair, his elbow hits the side wall and as Flamingo frowns with annoyance and whispers for his eardrums only. "Is this a joke? Yeah, it is. The joke is on me. That teen receives numerous college credits for using the term, choo-choo train, in a college presentation. And I couldn't present my excellent college paper, because I forgot to wear a stupid business suit jacket and unmatching bowtie. This is all wrong. I have landed in the Twilight Zone of dumb teenagers. I'm going to go crazy sit here and listening to this crap," he exhales with annoyance and frustration.

In the second column of writing desks, in the last chair, a male teen slowly stands upright from his chair and tumbles through the crowded aisle wearing a smile, re the front of the white board. He displays his hard work in front of the white board and then swiftly spins around bouncing up and down with excitement. "I am Leggate Sphagum. My report is entitled _The Ghost Hunter of Alabama_. Bill McCoy was nicknamed Railroad Bill. He spent his entire life riding and robbing every rolling choo-choo train steering in-between the small town of Bay Minette and the Florida state line. In the year 1894, Mr. McCoy started riding the train and then robbing each train passenger. In the year 1895, the local sheriff formed a posse of men to capture and then kill Railroad Bill. After the gun shooting, the local sheriff was dead, and Railroad Bill was foot loose and fancy free again and continued to rob each rolling choo-choo train. Then, in the year 1897, Railroad Bill was shot once in his chest and then twice on his back spine. He was dead and his blue-tinted, cold body was displayed for the viewing public comprising additional mentally demented citizens coming from the US States of Alabama and Florida. Thongs of curious and sick people would come for miles to see a dead, cold, blue-tinted Railroad Bill and snap a black and white glossy photograph for fifty cents. That's also so mentally sick, ya'll. However, this is all time scary part of my tale.

"Any day of the week on the Louisville and Nashville Railroad line, a railroad worker will always view a tall and slender white pasty man limping along the railroad tracks that run north to south from Alabama state line to Florida. The limping man watches each railroad worker but does not speak a word of English or Spanish," he laughs. "If the limping man is watched too long by the railroad worker, then he walks into the nearby lush woodland forest and then disappears," he gasps. "The cold rumor says the spirit of Railroad Bill still lives feet loose and fancy free as a limping he-ghost. So, if you can ever speak to Railroad Bill, he can tell you the true location of the Yazoo golden coins, where he had robbed as a human man from one of his stolen choo-choo trains. Thank you, Dr. Dunn for giving me the opportunity to graduate from my post-education institutions and become a legal lawyer ahead of schedule, Yeehaw!" He smiles and tosses both of his arms in the air then drops them down slapping his business jacket, sounding with a soft chuckle. The audience of other teens softly applaud for the ambition AP student.

Within the last column of desks, in the last chair, Flamingo frowns and whispers for his eardrums only. "This is all wrong. He used the same childish term, choo-choo train, in a college presentation. Why is this happening to me? Why? Why?" He exhales with annoyance and frustration slamming his rear skull against the metal locker, swiftly sitting upright with a sour frown of both embarrassment and disappointment again.

"Thank you, Challenger! Your oral presentation was very nice!" Dunn repeats his same routine with Leggate.

Leggate scoots sideways and snatches up the single piece of paper, viewing the information, presenting a smile. He moves sideways and quickly gathers all his visual aids tumbling back toward his chair, bounding up and down with exactment for his college accomplishment.

"Who possesses the sliver of paper with the math number of four? Please, come up and get settled for your oral presentation, Challenger."

Inside the audience of teens, a short, skinny, dark-skinned female displaying a head of long black-tinted hair strands, a gray tinted business skirt, and a pair of red tinted high fashion heels slowly stands upright from the fourth desk, on the third row, dragging a set of visual aids in front of the class, standing beside the easel. She nods with a smile and slaps her chest. "I am Kelpy Gaskinder. My oral presentation is entitled _The Mountain Man of Alabama._ Tom Clark moved to Lauderdale County in the year 1862 and he was a deserter from both the Confederate army and the Union army starting in the year 1864. He lived within the mountainous wildness and earned the nickname, Mountain Tom Clark. There also was another Tom Clark that lived within the same countryside. Mountain Tom Clark and his gang of nasty robbers murdered and killed numerous innocent people including a small child. In the year 1897, he was out sightseeing trip and was recognized by the local town people. The local sheriff from the city of Florence came and captured Mountain Tom Clark and placed him inside the jail cell. A mod of angry, mad, and scary citizens from Florence formed a posse and then rustled Mr. Clark out from his jail cell, hanging his throat muscles down from the tallest sycamore tree at the street corner of the _Tennessee Street_ and _Pine Road_. Afterwards, the cold, blue-tinted, dead body of Mountain Tom Clark was placed and buried underneath _Tennessee Street_. Now, if one of you is brave enough, then you could get permission to dig up the roadway on _Tennessee Street_ and there you will find all the Yazoo golden bars that Mountain Tom Clark had found first and then hidden inside his mountain home. Thanks to all! Love and kisses to all! Thanks to you, Dr. Dunn! I'm going to become a medical hospital nurse and help cure the world of cancer," she tilts her chin and tosses both of her arms in the air, sounding with a set of soft chuckles. The audience of students softly applaud their fellow challenger.

Flamingo stares with confusion, puzzlement, hatred, angry, and depression at the silly teenager whispering for his eardrums only. "What utter nonsense this is on me! She didn't present an argument for the _Land of Yazoo_ but guessed the location regarding the Yazoo golden treasury in the city of Florence."

"Thank you, Challenger! Your oral presentation was very nice!" Dunn repeats his ritual to Gaskinder. Gaskinder snatches the paper then bounces up and with excitement slowly collecting her visual, aids, returning to her chair. Dunn smile. "Who possesses the tiny sliver of paper with the math number of five? Please, come up and get settled for your oral presentation, Challenger."

Within the audience of teens, a tall and plump female with pale-tinted skin tone, a head of short brown-colored hair strands and brown-tinted pupils slides off the first chair, on the second column of writing desks, dragging her set of visual aids in front of the class, standing beside the easel. She wears a pink and white stripped business jacket and skirt with a pair of flat pink shoes, wearing a smile. She nods and slaps her chest. "I am Linzee Strastberger. My oral presentation is entitled _The Man._ I hail from the city of Huntsville. The most notorious outlaw had stay there inside the Madison County jail, in the year 1884. That man was named Frank James, the older brother of Jessie James. Frank was accused of robbing a stage coach with sacks of cash and gold in Muscle Shoals, Alabama. Frank went to jail but was very popular here in Bama. People would come around from the other cities and socialize with the famous outlaw. Eventually, Frank James was acquitted of the robbery event and walked out a free man from the Madison County jail. He then went back to his boyhood home in the US State of Missouri and lived out his life until the age of seventy-one years old. Frank had found and captured the Yazoo gold and then taken it back home with him to Missouri. The end. Thank you!" The students applaud for their fellow challenger.

Flamingo gasps in alarm and whispers for his eardrums only. "Who are these dumb AP students? Where did they come from?"

"Thank you, Challenger! Your oral presentation was very nice!" Dunn repeats the same ritual with Strastberger. She accepts the paper with a smile and return to chair with her visual aids. He repeats his same act. "Who possesses sliver number six? Please, come and set up your visual aid materials. This is going very well for each student, so far. And I am very pleased with each oral speech, so far."

Within the first column of student writing desks, in the last chair, Flamingo whispers for his eardrums only. "What did he say? This is right for them. This is wrong for me. This is a disaster for me. This is not going well for me." He exhales with annoyance and frustration leaning his rear skull against the cold metal locker feeling boredom, frustration, and disappointment.

From the first chair, on the first column of writing desks, nearest the closed archway, the teen male smiles and stands upright holding his visual aids above his black-tinted hair roots, wearing a black tinted business suit and slowly tumbles ahead towards the front of the classroom for his personal oral presentation to Dunn.

Flamingo exhales with annoyance gently lowering his face on top of smooth surface on the writing desk, closing his two eyelids for a short catnap. He is not interested in hearing the rest of the stupid-ass oral presentations from the group of lucky AP students.

Continue the teenly adventures of the three triplet brothers Breck, Flamingo, and Cinco inside _Trip Zet_ , the third e-book from the book series **... A Country Gentlemen...**
