The Texas Treasure Tragedy Poem by David Welch

Christopher Cuddy made his home in west Texas,
in the small town of Stone Brook Falls.
He made his living as a realtor,
selling off lots both big and small.

When he was forty-five his father passed,
he had lived three blocks down the road,
so Christopher had to sort through his stuff,
deciding what to save, and what to let go.

While sifting one day he found three creates,
weathered, beaten, and very old,
each was the size of a large dog,
great in volume were their holds.

Christopher searched his father' desk,
and found an ancient, iron key.
He opened the locks, still wondering what
inside the crates he might possible see.

He saw them many pieces of paper,
piled up to the brim in neat stacks.
They were all yellowed with great age,
covered in handwriting, both front and back.

He could not understand what he stared upon,
but one stood out upon the top,
It was title The Testimony of Gillian Cuddy,
who was his very own great-great grand-pop!

He opened up the first fragile pages,
seeing many rows of meticulous cursive,
he took a breath, settled into a chair
and dove into the words within…

***

Gilman Cuddy walked quickly to
the mayor's office, in which he worked.
But he wasn't going on town business,
despite being the village clerk.

He needed to find the mayor, you see,
because he'd been out riding in the hills,
where he'd found something incredible,
down his spine it had sent chills.

The mayor would know what to do next,
but he wasn't sitting in his room,
Gil then frowned, knowing to look
down the room at old Buck's Saloon.

He found Mayor Hampton perched at the bar,
worse for the wear after six whiskies.
He knew the man was a happy drunk,
and with a bar-maid was getting frisky.

Gil walked up and said quietly,
"Mr. mayor, I have found something.
I think if you come fee it for yourself,
you'll agree that it's life-changing.

‘Some might even call it a treasure,
valuable beyond imagination.
I know you're having some fun right now,
but this could change Stone Brook's reputation."

The mayor gave him a drunken grin,
saying, "Sure, I'll go see your treasure!
But you see I found one here today,
and I think I will first take my pleasure! "

With that he went and chased the barmaid
up a rickety set of wooden stairs.
Gilman sighed and shook his head,
then walked himself on out of there.

Unbeknownst to him a head had risen to hear,
his talk of treasure up high in the hills,
That head belonged to Badman Lopez,
who road with Blackjack Ethan Wills.

He rose from his half-finished whisky,
and set out, clear out of town.
Blackjack would be very keen to know
what the soft, little clerk had found.

Gil rode back out into the desert,
retracing where he previously went.
Finding the cave by the Chisos Peaks,
not that far from the Big Bend.

As he walked in his hands shook,
at the sight of countless chisel-marks.
He'd seen it this morning but it still
sent a flutter deep through his heart.

He walked into a broad corridor,
hand-hewn right from the peak.
On either side of him endless slots
were filled with copper-hued antiques.

Each slot held one such metal tube,
and he opened one to look inside,
a brittle paper slid into his hands,
the letters he clearly recognized.

They were in Greek and Latin script,
though neither language was his own.
He knew he gazed upon something
that dated back to ancient Rome.

He looked at another copper tube,
and saw letters written on the outside.
It was the single word ‘Alexandria, '
the letters quite clearly described.

How it had gotten all the way here,
Gil rightly could not understand.
As far as he knew the Romans never
crossed the ocean to find new lands.

But he'd read enough to know what it meant,
of the library so long ago burned.
Had somebody sailed it across the Atlantic,
to save it from a destruction unearned?

The thought of it all make his vibrate,
his mind jumping about excitedly.
They he heard a horse, and a loud shout,
and his joy turned to doom quickly.

"Come out of there Cuddy! "Blackjack cried,
"With you hands up if you want to live!
We've come for the treasure, and we're taking it,
so either leave now, or we're coming in! "

Gil he froze, then started to walk,
not knowing what to do now.
He reached to the sunlight, six awaited,
Blackjack's face pinched in a scowl.

Blackjack smiled, and sent Lopez ahead,
into the cave with another man.
Long minutes past, then Lopez raced out,
crying, "Amigos! It's all been a scam! "

Lopez held a single metal tube,
he pulled from it to old paper sheet.
He cried, "It's nothing but moldy paper!
No gold, no treasure, no money! "

Blackjack glowered, and stared at Gil.
Gil swallowed, then found his nerve.
He said, "Inside that cave is the wisdom of ages,
something the whole world deserves!

"Those documents there and incredibly old,
and tell of things that we though long lost!
Endless history that we never knew,
a chronicle of all that once was! "

Blackjack's face held its dark glare,
he shook his head in disgust.
"We rode all this way, and your great ‘treasure'
is some moldy old paper and dust? "

He slowly moved his hand towards his gun,
but besides him a short man spoke low:
"The mayor may be a drunk but he will act
if we leave his only clerk to the crows."

Blackjack looked to his fellow thug,
then shrugged and ruffled through his bags,
He took out two sticks of dynamite,
and said, "Well I guess that's just too bad.

"I'd really like to fill this fool with lead,
for leading us out this wild chase.
Guess I'll have to settle for seeing his face
as his ‘endless history' gets erased! "

Gil surged forwards, but Lopez cracked him
over the head with the butt of his gun.
He fell to the ground, left to lie out
in the harsh, endless desert sun.

He heard a dull blast as he slowly awoke,
and though bleary eyes saw rock tumble.
In a flash of fire and a cloud of debris,
the cave groaned then suddenly crumbled.

Gil got to his feet, now all alone,
and looked around at what remained.
A single scrap of paper lay on the ground
where Lopez had dropped it in a rage.

Gil picked it up and stared up at
the rock-choked, blast-strewn slope.
He felt his breath seize in his lungs,
he cried out, knowing there was no hope…

For months he sulked over the loss,
drinking at Buck's more than the mayor.
Such a discovery lost to a damned thug,
the thought filled a man with despair.

When a year had passed he showed up on day
at the saloon, shaved, coiffed, and upbeat.
He ordered not a drink, but pulled up next
to a cowboy and helped himself to a seat.

The puncher looked confused, especially when
Gil pulled out a pen and then smiled:
"Cowboy I'll pay for all of your drinks,
If you'll talk with me for a while.

"I'm here to record the tales of our time,
Be they crazy or exciting or boring.
You look like the type with some things to stay,
So cowboy, tell me your story…"

***
Chris put down the bundle slowly,
his eyes wide with great disbelief.
A tale like this, who would've thought…
and who would ever believe?

He looked down at the many stacks,
and did a quick skin-read of them:
Tales of the frontier spanning from
the cowboy days up to nineteen ten.

His great-great grandpa's work, all before him,
the tales of hundreds of real lives,
that was what he'd dedicated his life too,
making sure nothing more was lost to time.

When Chris closed the crate he saw two words,
painted atop in faded old tones,
it said simply ‘New Alexandria, '
the reason he'd written these tomes.

He knew right then this had to be saved,
but academics would only laugh at him.
The story was crazy, but had to be told,
he had an idea of where to begin...

The very next day he walked into
the town's Historical Society.
He slapped down Gil's story and a small copper tube,
saying, "I've got something you all need to see…"