Grizzly Galveston Ghost: Bear Chronicles Book 3

GRIZZLY GALVESTON GHOST

Bear Chronicles - Book 3

By

Gary W Moore

SMASHWORDS EDITION

* * * * *

PUBLISHED BY:

Gary W Moore at Smashwords

Grizzly Galveston Ghost, Bear Chronicles - Book 3

Copyright © 2014 by Gary W Moore

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with others, 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.

This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter 1 – Storm

Chapter 2 – Play It Again, Glen

Chapter 3 – Mysteries

Chapter 4 – Bars, Bravery and Boardwalks

Chapter 5 – New Discoveries

Chapter 6 – The Past Returns

Chapter 7 – Researching The Past

Chapter 8 – Miss Cleona, Meet Marion

Chapter 9 – The Wrong Man

Chapter 10 – Front Page News

Chapter 11 – Revelations

Chapter 12 – Today

Chapter 13 – Return To Galveston

Epilogue

About The Author

Other Books by Author

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Prologue

December, 1911 had arrived and Galveston was finally a resemblance of the town it was prior to The Great 1900 Storm. The island had been raised as much as 17 feet in some places, and the new Seawall had been constructed. Both would assist greatly during future hurricanes.

Most catwalks placed down during the addition of slurry from the ship channel had been removed. The muddy ground was gone; replaced by grass, flowers, streets, and sidewalks. The terrible stench from the many victims' remains had finally subsided, although the sadness and fear from that time would take years to overcome.

New structures were being built throughout the island in hopes that it would return to its pre-storm glory, as a bustling, vibrant city. Crews worked in different areas of town, adding finishing touches here and new additions there.

A group of workers helping with one of these additions, stood watching a flatbed truck delivering an enormous wooden crate. The truck was to be positioned under a large winch system that would assist in lifting the box off of the truck’s bed.

The sun shone brightly in the sky with some passing clouds occasionally blocking out its glare. A gentle breeze accompanied the cooler weather. The workers were happy the summer had ended. Christmas was a few days away and many would be taking a well deserved leave at that time.

2 men stood behind and on the side of the truck as it backed up into position. One of them put up a hand while shouting, Stop! That’s perfect.

The man on the other side agreed with the placement.

2 other men jumped onto the truck, as 4 other workers grabbed ropes that were run through a pulley system and down to the truck. A-framed supports, standing 20 feet tall, were on both sides of the truck, with a solid steel beam running across. A pulley system was attached to a track that ran along this beam. Ropes would run through several pulleys, to assist in the lift, as well as provide leverage.

The group of men ran ropes down from the beam and into specified slots on the container. A total of 6 ropes were put in place before the lift began. Once all ropes were tied off, the 2 men on the truck jumped to the ground. They joined the others and would now lift the box up and allow the truck to pull away.

Everyone grabbed the ropes; 3 men on one side with 3 on the other. All 6 ropes were combined into 2 single strands, 1 on each side. The men formed a row behind each other, preparing to pull the cords in both directions away from the truck. The signal was given to lift and the men strained to heave the crate up. Grunts and moans could be heard as each did his part in lifting the behemoth.

The crate lifted as the beam above it moaned from the weight. The pulleys whined with the slightest movement. The truck pulled forward slowly until it was clear of the crate.

Once it moved the men started to lower the crate. Inch by inch it was lowered as pulleys and steel strained from the massive object. The crate was 2 feet off the ground when a loud ‘snap!’ was heard. One of the ropes had broken.

The crate shook violently as it was thrown off balance. The crate hung there with 1 corner leaning toward the ground. The men strained to compensate, but without this snapped sixth rope it was nearly impossible.

They decide to lower it completely and allow gravity to level it. They slowly move forward, allowing the crate to near the ground. Suddenly a rope twisted and jammed between a pulley and the steel beam, causing the crate to stop 6 inches from the ground. It hung precariously and if they weren’t careful, it would end up on its side, instead of setting upright.

The men tied off the ropes, even though they weren’t really supporting any weight because of the jammed lines. They walked around and surveyed the situation and tried to concoct a solution. They decided to get 2 large wooden beams to lean against the crate at the angle in which it was tipping. The ropes would be cut, and the hope was that the beams would force the box to land upright.

2 6X6 wooden beams, approximately 8 feet long, were brought in. They were placed in position and blocked in the ground by long wooden dowels.

The only thing they had to do now was cut the rope and hope for the best.

Men stood on each side of the crate, merely to observe. A smaller man was called in and asked to climb the support beam to cut the ropes below the pulley.

He shimmied up and into position in short order. Everyone was ready. The man reached down and sawed at the line. As he was upside down, he couldn’t quite make out anything going on below him.

The ropes were being cut away. Suddenly one of the wooden beams started to fall, no longer providing support for the crate. One of the men on that side jumped into action. He grabbed the board and started to move it back into place.

The other man on that side shouted, Stop cutting! We’ve got a problem.

The man with the knife stopped cutting, but the weight of the crate finished the job.

A loud ‘pop!’ was heard as the rope broke. The crate crashed into the ground. The other wooden support fell to its side as the crate leaned in the direction of the lost support. The man holding the first fallen beam rushed to force it in place.

His efforts were not enough as the large crate, holding a solid granite statue, fell to its side. The man put up his hands, thinking that he may be able to save himself, but the weight was more than 10 men could hold, much less 1. The crate fell to the ground, crushing the man underneath it.

The worker on that side shouted, Milford’s trapped under the crate! We need men over here now!

The men scrambled around the large wooden box, lifting with all their might, while others raced toward them from different work areas. It didn’t budge, even as additional men joined in. The men stepped back as blood poured out from under the crate. There was nothing anyone could do. A freak accident had added another life to those lost because of The 1900 Storm.

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Chapter 1 – Storm

The waters churned as if a war waged beneath the surface. Dark gray storm clouds collided into one another, while pressure spun around a giant monster. Sheets of rain poured from the sky, which were twisted sideways by mighty gusts. A destructive tempest grew.

Hurricanes normally provided ample warning of their intent. However, there were occasions when one came to life with little notice. Galveston and Port Author were given only a slight heads up, as Hurricane Gregory came to life only 36 hours earlier.

Tourists visiting these locations had retreated, as both were being listed as possible targets by local forecasters. Home and business owners frantically prepared for the inevitable impact. They continued their efforts as the sun set, knowing that Gregory would strike in the dark.

Henry Rauls, a home and business owner worked feverishly to prepare the single building that acted as both for the storm’s arrival. All outside items, such as lawn chairs, tables, plants, and rugs had been brought inside. Storm shutters, that normally only enhanced the aesthetics of the home, had been closed, as they also served the purpose of protecting windows from being blown out.

A television on the kitchen table was broadcasting the latest report. Henry, an elderly white man standing 5’ 9" nine inches tall, with coarse gray hair, latched the backdoor while watching the TV.

A local weatherman, Frank Billingsley, stood in front of a map showing the Gulf of Mexico and the large swirling storm covering its western side. He announced, The current projected path will put Hurricane Gregory here, as he pointed to the map behind him then continued, and should make landfall north of Galveston. Right now it’s a category 3 hurricane with wind speeds of a 129 miles per hour. However, this storm is gaining strength and may still reach category 4 before impacting land. Port Author should see the eye pass right over them. At the rate the storm is moving, it should make landfall around 11:30 p.m.

Henry said to no one, Good, looks like we dodged a bullet.

Frank added, Galveston residents shouldn’t let down their guard. Even though they may be on the clean side of the storm, they’ll feel the force that Gregory is packing. Now is not the time to relax. If you’re able to leave, you still have time. We’re going to go over to Nicole with the latest on traffic leaving Galveston so people can plan accordingly. Nicole.

Henry stepped away from the TV, as he knew he wasn’t leaving so that didn’t pertain to him. He would check upstairs to make sure he didn’t miss any windows. Then he would hunker down in the small closet in the center of the building on the ground floor, where he’s already prepared a sleeping place.

The Gulf waters near Galveston’s shore were choppy, although this was only the beginning. The waves splashed upon the beach, but they would soon be slamming into the seawall. Hurricane Gregory growled as it spread out over the sky, reaching toward Galveston and points beyond.

Time passed slowly in the anticipation of the storm. Winds continued to strengthen, causing street signs to wiggle and palm trees to bend with each gust. The storm was closing in.

Hours had passed and Galveston was now in complete darkness as the sun had set. The dark ominous clouds above could not be seen. However, all residents knew they were there. Hurricane Gregory had arrived and was just getting started.

Henry sat in the closet, listening to the winds howl. A loud creaking could be heard as the wind attempted to remove the roof from his home. Pellets of rain plastered the side of the house while thunder shook the ground, sounding like a jet crashing in the backyard.

The time was 9:00 and he knew the worst was yet to come.

He had the closet door open, watching the television that was now sitting on the floor across the room. He would’ve pulled it into the closet, but there was really only enough room for him and a few supplies. The power flickered with the latest flash of lightning, but thankfully it hadn’t gone out yet.

Suddenly he heard a thud, followed by 3 more. This wasn’t the storm as the sound was directly above him. There was no one in the house so he wasn’t sure what could’ve made that sound, and decided to investigate.

He grabbed his flashlight, just in case the power went out during his exploration, stepped out of the closet and walked toward the stairs as the sound originated on the second floor.

The wind continued to howl outside as some small trees beat against the house. The house creaked and moaned, as the wind strained to tear it apart.

He reached the second-floor landing and turned the hall light on to discover 4 wooden balls on the floor. On a table against the far wall was the bowl where these were normally setting, as merely a conversation piece.

Picking each of them up, he returned them to the bowl, assuming the rumbling of the thunder caused them to fall.

Once they were back in place he took a moment to glance in the rooms as the storm raged outside. The shudders shuddered from the wind trying to pull them off the building. However, they were still doing what they were designed to do.

Everything was okay so Henry turned and headed for the stairs. The power flickered again but thankfully remained on. He reached the stairs and was about to step down when he heard a thud behind him, followed by 3 more. He turned back to see the 4 wooden balls once again on the floor, rolling to a stop.

This didn’t make sense to him.

He was about to go back when suddenly a white apparition came through the wall and passed by, softly brushing his face. He gasped at this specter, losing his footing. The ghostly figure continued down the hall, disappearing into the opposite wall.

Henry’s foot that was on the step, twisted under him, as he watched this phantom disappear. He spilled backwards onto the stairs. He rolled, as his body turned head over feet while falling down to the ground floor.

His elderly body cracked and thudded with each step. He cried out in pain, but no one was there to help. He was continually slammed, as the fall was unstoppable. Each wooden step felt like a baseball bat being bashed against his body.

The ground floor was finally reached as his limp body came to a rest. Bones were broken with one from his arm sticking through his skin. His face was bloodied with his left eye starting to swell shut. Breathing was becoming more difficult as a lung had been punctured and was starting to collapse.

The storm winds slammed into the home, as rain and thunder created an eerie chorus line. Henry could feel his life slipping away but there was nothing he could do. He was unable to move.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt lit up the sky as it struck the earth. The accompanying thunder sounded like an army of freight trains running over Galveston while the ground trembled.

The lights inside the bed and breakfast wavered then went out while Henry, lying in the darkness, took his last breath.

The flicker of candlelight danced on the walls. In the half light one could see that it was a living room. A sleek looking couch, matching chair, and coffee table that was a bear on its back holding an oblong piece of glass, occupied the room. A fireplace sat against the wall, unused. A large flat screen TV was attached to the wall opposite the couch with an entertainment center below it.

The connected room was a kitchen, separated by an ‘L’ shaped island with tall chairs around it. Even in this dim light, it was easy to tell the cabinets and counters were quite dark.

Someone moved in the kitchen, as they pulled something out of the refrigerator. Items were set on the counter; sliced turkey breast, a jar of Miracle Whip, lettuce, tomato and sweet pickles. The last item, a loaf of bread finally joined its counter parts. A knife was pulled out from a drawer, along with paper plates from another cabinet.

A candle sat next to this workstation so the maker of the sandwiches could see what he was doing. He was a big man standing 6 feet tall, sporting a full beard. His handsome face could not be seen clearly in this light, but it was easy to see this man was what many would consider husky.

He turned to the darkened living room and asked, Steve, did you want pickles on your sandwich? They’re sweet.

Steve sat on the couch and looked at the shadowy figure that was Paul and answered, Why not? Let’s go crazy!

Steve was also a bearish man, but wasn’t quite as tall or heavy as Paul. He stood 5 feet 11 inches tall and had a handsome face that looked friendly and welcoming. He was wearing a goatee but had begun to allow his full beard to grow. The growth was a few days old, but the dark hair coming in showed that a nice beard would be in place soon.

Paul finished making sandwiches, returned the items to their places then delivered the meal to the living room. He set the food on the coffee table then took a seat next to Steve.

Paul said, Oh, candlelight dinner, how romantic.

The storm’s winds howl outside as Steve replied, If we had power, there’d be no candles.

Damn, you are such a buzz kill.

Sorry, I’m not sure why I do that. Thanks for making me a sandwich, although I said I wasn’t hungry.

Any other Saturday night we’d be running through a fast-food place getting an after bar snack, said Paul.

You’re probably right about that. Oh, and thanks for letting me park my car in your garage. That’s the only thing I don’t like about living in the apartment complex in Montrose.

Steve, you can park your car in my garage, anytime, said Paul, accompanied by a snicker.

Steve took a bite of his sandwich while ignoring his innuendo.

Steve and Paul were friends, having known each other for years. They were part of a group of bear men who all met via one man, Kevin. Kevin was the center of the group until he was killed by a serial killerr. He was important to everyone and he would always be a part of their lives.

After swallowing his bite, Steve asked, So, I guess this is Brett’s first hurricane, at least the first to make any landfall in Texas.

Brett was the nephew of one of the guys in the group, Victor. He was a 12-year-old who came out to his adopted aunt, and consequently was shipped to Houston to live with Victor and his partner Hector. Based on religion, the aunt couldn’t accept and love him; she had to get rid of the ‘sinner’.

After moving to Houston, Brett was lost at a theme park, kidnapped, rescued, helped his kidnapper, and was finally reunited with his estranged father. It was a busy summer. He spent most of his time at his father’s home, but would stay at his uncle’s occasionally. All of the guys thought of him as their nephew as well.

I’m pretty sure it is. I think Victor said he was going to stay with his father. What’s his father’s name?

Brad, answered Steve. I’m really glad Brett is getting this chance to know his father. It’s gonna be good for both of them.

Paul finished a bite of his sandwich and said, Let’s switch on the generator for a minute and see what the latest is on the storm. Then we’ll call it a night.

Paul walked toward the kitchen, to the door that led into the garage. He had rigged up a pipe from the exhaust of the gas-powered generator and ran this under the garage door, which was open a mere 3 inches. This way they could run the generator and not having to worry about fumes or someone stealing it. They didn’t have it on all the time, as they were not sure how long they’d be without power, and they had a limited amount of gas.

Paul pulled the cord once. He got a few putts, but no start. A second pull was made as the generator roared to life, sending power through the cable lying on the ground leading into the house. Paul walked back inside.

A 26-six inch flat screen television set on the entertainment center below the large 52 inch on the wall. Steve hit a remote, tuning it on. The TV came to life, adding a soft bluish colored glow to the room.

Paul returned to the couch as they both watched.

Frank Billingsley continued his duties. He had been on for almost 24 hours straight and he didn’t look tired. Adrenaline’s a powerful thing.

Frank stood in front of the map showing the eye of Hurricane Gregory sitting on top of Port Author. He said, Folks in Port Author may be experiencing the calm before the return of the storm. Although this time the winds will be coming from a different direction. This is a really dangerous time as things that were loosened will most likely break free and become projectiles. Anyone in Port Author or the surrounding areas need to be taking shelter. Don’t go out just because the winds have stopped. The storm is far from over.

He now redirected to Houston as he informed the viewers, Houston is getting slammed pretty hard. We’ve had 6 inches of rain in the downtown area, 7 inches are reported in Sugar Land with Katy reporting nearly 8. The storm is veering northeast, so we’re hoping to see relief in the next 4 hours. Galveston is still in the thick of this and will be for probably 6 more hours. It’s going to be a long night for everyone.

Coy Featherston, the famous one in this bear group, stood in the kitchen in his underwear with a mobile phone to his ear. The kitchen was small, but had enough room for the table and two chairs. The floor was covered by slate tile, accented by walls that were a warm yellow. The cabinets were pine and had been stained to keep a more natural look.

This room was open to the living room, which had vaulted ceilings and sliding glass doors that led out to the patio and pool area. The living room was carpeted with a tan Berber. A dark leather sectional occupied that room, along with a flat screen television mounted on the wall, facing it.

Coy was an extremely stout looking man, wearing a full beard that framed his face. His baby blues seemed to fit the definition of ‘bedroom eyes’. Even if someone didn’t know him, they could assume he was once a football player, which he was, until he was forced to retire after an injury. He had met Kevin at that time and they became a couple. He didn’t meet Kevin’s friends until after Kevin was killed. It was sad time for everyone, but thankfully Kevin’s friends took him in and he became part of their family.

He said to the person on the other end of the phone, Lyndon will most likely be working all day, but I’ll definitely meet you over there. What time are you guys going?

On the other end of the phone was Steve, standing on the front porch of Paul’s house, looking at the limbs that were brought down by the hurricane the previous night. He answered, Hector said for us to aim for 10:30. So, we’ll be leaving here in about 30 minutes.

Cool. That gives me time to shower before I head out. I better get off here so I can get done, since Pearland is a bit farther from Victor and Hectors.

Oh, so you’re at Lyndon’s. Did he work all night?

No, he went in around 4:00 this morning. He said he’d probably be working 16 hours.

One more reason I’m glad I’m not a cop. I’m sure looting will be a problem in some areas, since a lot of people evacuated.

Coy said, Plus, many will need assistance from damaged homes, or rising waters. The firemen can only do so much.

I’m hoping my home in Montrose is okay. I plan to drive down there later this afternoon to see. Once power is back on, that is.

Yeah, you have to be careful. Most people don’t know what to do when they come up to an intersection and the light is out. Some people just run it.

Steve replied, Idiots like that are why I won’t drive until the power is back on.

Coy laughed then said, Let me jump in the shower. I’ll see you at Victor’s.

Laters, exclaimed Steve as he ended the call. He then looked through his directory for another number. The display showed ‘Ronnie Cell’ and he hit send. The phone rang 3 times before Ronnie answered, Good morning, Steve. Did you guys have any problems from the hurricane?

Nothing really, except no power, like most everybody. Thankfully, Paul has a generator.

Yes, I have one as well. They are a wonderful thing to have when the power goes out.

Amen. Hey, we’re going to Victor and Hector’s around 10:30. You want to meet us over there for breakfast?

That sounds great. Do they have power? asked Ronnie.

They’ve set up a grill on the back porch and they’re running two generators. Hector doesn’t want to miss brunch with the gang because of some silly hurricane.

They really do too much for us. Yes, I will head over there in a few minutes. I am going to try to reach my uncle in Galveston. He stayed with the bed and breakfast and I want to make sure he is okay.

Steve said, Right. Uncle Henry. I hope everything’s okay.

I am sure it is. What about Coy and Lyndon? Are they alright?

Yes. Lyndon’s actually working. Coy will be meeting us at Victor and Hector’s.

Great. You just never know when a storm comes through.

Right. Well, let me get off here so you can try calling your uncle again. See you at Victor and Hector’s.

I will see you in a bit, Steve. Goodbye.

Steve hit the ‘End’ button, ending the call. He looked out into the neighborhood, and watched Paul clean debris from his yard, as well as helping his elderly neighbor do the same. Many small limbs were torn from the trees, trash cans were blown down the street, and a few neighbors’ windows were busted by flying projectiles. But for the most part, Houston came out smelling like a rose.

Victor checked the grill, making sure it was heating up and ready to be used. The back patio had been swept that morning, removing leaves, water, and mud that had sprayed over it by the storm. Any limbs and miscellaneous debris had already been taken care of, leaving their yard looking as if a light rain came through the neighborhood, instead of the edge of a hurricane.

Victor walked over to the generators that were sitting at the far end of the patio. They were purring away, creating very little noise. They both showed 8 hours of run time remaining. A smile from behind his salt and pepper beard verified his happiness.

He was a well-built man standing 6’ 5" inches tall, which made him the tallest in the group. He’s always carried a little extra weight, but he didn’t mind and neither did his partner, Hector.

He walked back past the grill, toward the patio door that led into the house, stepping onto the hardwood floor in the living room. This room was considered a great room, as the ceiling was almost 20 feet tall and it opened up to the kitchen. A fireplace was to his right as he stepped in, passed in front of the TV, and walked toward the island in the kitchen.

Hector was busy cooking, using the hotplate that was plugged into the cord coming from the generator. Hector was a Latino man, standing 5’ 8" tall, or at least that is what he told everyone. He had dark features, with a full head of hair and nicely kept goatee. He was the youngest in the group, making sure to keep all gray in check so everyone knew that.

Victor said, The grill is going and we have plenty of time on the generators. What do you need me to do?

Hector handed him a tray while saying, Can you go ahead and start cooking this outside? I’m going to finish the pancakes on the electric griddle then put them in a container that can sit on the grill to keep them warm. Just before we’re ready to eat, I’m going to fix the scrambled eggs.

Victor looked at the tray, making note of the many selections. There was ham, bacon, sausage links, sausage patties and Texas toast. The pig had done its part in contributing to this meal.

What else will you be serving?

Hector looked around the kitchen then answered, Orange juice, coffee and cinnamon rolls. Do you think that’s enough?

Victor smiled at his love and answered, Yes, that sounds perfect.

He excused himself and headed back to the patio to start grilling. The guys were to show up at 10:30 and they were normally very prompt, 10 minutes would pass quickly.

Hector continued in the kitchen, grabbing plates down from the cupboard. He lined everything up on the counter and would take it to the dining room, where they would share breakfast. 2 fans were set up in that room, so everyone would be comfortable. The temperature was already on its way up to 90. With the wet ground, the humidity would make it that much more uncomfortable.

A knock at the front door pulled Hector from his duties. He walked through the entrance that led into the hallway, turned to his right and answered the door. Ronnie was standing there smiling.

Ronnie was a handsome black man with a short salt and pepper beard. He had gentle eyes and a sweet demeanor. He stood 5’11" and would be considered a lean bear, although he wasn’t skinny. He dressed very conservatively, which was quite typical for him.

Hey, Ronnie. Come on in.

Good morning, Hector.

The men embraced. This was very typical for the guys, as they normally greeted each other with a hug, kiss or combination of both. This wasn’t sexual, but merely an expression of their close bonds.

They broke from their hug while Ronnie asked, Is there anything I can help with? I know you must be overwhelmed trying to prepare for everyone’s arrival.

I’ve got Victor grilling meats and toast outside. I’m finishing up pancakes before starting scrambled eggs.

Ronnie followed him into the kitchen while Hector finished, We’re going to eat in the dining room. If you want, why don’t you take the plates, silverware and glasses in there and set up. I’ll get back to my pancakes.

I would be delighted.

Ronnie went to work as Hector returned to flipping his hotcakes. As they finished cooking, he placed them into a metal pan that would be taken to Victor for warming. It was difficult to keep foods hot when the power was out.

Ronnie returned to the kitchen, after setting up the dining room table. He said, I believe everything is set up on the table correctly. Is there something else I can do?

In 2 minutes I’ll have something. Why don’t you have a seat and chat, while these last few pancakes finish?

Ronnie sat in a chair at the island, across from Hector grilling on the sunken counter on the other side.

Ronnie asked, Did you guys have a big mess this morning?

I didn’t see any. When I got up at 8:00, everything was cleaned. If it wasn’t for the neighbors’ yards having debris, I wouldn’t believed we had a hurricane come through the area.

Ronnie, knowing that Victor wasn’t one to sleep in, said, Victor is amazing. If I ever have a project or home repair, I am calling him.

Hector laughed. I would’ve been more than happy to help him, but if he lets me sleep, what can I do?

Victor is sweet to let you sleep. I am happy that everyone made it through the storm okay. I spoke to Steve, who is at Paul’s, and they are fine. He said Lyndon is working and Coy will be here. However, I still have not been able to reach my uncle this morning.

He’s the one with the bed and breakfast in Galveston, right?

Yes. That is his baby. He would not normally stay, but there really was not enough warning.

Is there someone close to his place that you can call?

I only know Uncle Henry. He had a business partner, but I believe he bought him out. I don’t know if the business partner is still in Galveston or not. I am sure my uncle will be calling later. I sent him a text, so he will be notified when he gets a signal.

If he didn’t charge his mobile, it may have lost power. I’m sure we’ll be hearing from him soon.

Ronnie nodded his head, and hoped that would happen. He didn’t like to worry or think about worse case scenarios, but it wasn’t like his uncle to not call him that morning and let him know everything was okay. Ronnie was worried that the worse case scenario may become a reality, but he did his best not to show it.

A steaming pile of pancakes set in the center of the table, flanked by a tray of every conceivable breakfast meat, another holding thick Texas toast, one with cinnamon rolls, and finally the last filled with fluffy scrambled eggs.

Glasses by each plate were filled with orange juice. Some plates also had a cup of coffee next to them. This all rest on top of a cream-colored tablecloth with multi-colored geographic designs. Every color of the rainbow was equally represented.

Goldilocks would feel right at home at this table, as she would be surrounded by a family of bears. Of course, these were the human variety.

Everyone enjoyed breakfast and shared in the joy of surviving yet another hurricane to hit Texas. Although, 3 members of this family were missing, as Lyndon was at work, Vera was on vacation with her father, and Teddy was visiting his parents in Denver.

Paul asked, Coy, when is Vera getting back? I thought it was this weekend.

They had to extend their vacation because of the hurricane. When I last spoke to her, she said they’d be home Wednesday.

Steve, sitting at the head of the table asked Victor sitting at the other end, Have you talked to Brett this morning?

Yes. I don’t think the storm really bothered him much. Of course, we only got the edge of it, but I’m not complaining.

Ronnie added, I would be content if Houston never sees another hurricane.

Wouldn’t that be nice, said Hector.

Coy said, "It really doesn’t matter where you live, there’s always something trying to kill you. Texas’ big threat is hurricanes, California has earthquakes, the Midwest has tornadoes, and Minnesota freezes in the winter. You’ve got forest fires here and mud slides there. You have to pick which one you