"Thank you, Mr. Crowley"

The alarm sounded again at 7:00 am with a constant buzz that rang loud in Jack's ears. It took all his strength to lift his arm out from beneath the pillow to hit the snooze button once more. He had stayed up half the night painting and was just exhausted. The peaceful silence quickly returned and Jack was just about to doze off again when it hit him; his best friend Chris would soon arrive to help him remodel his newly inherited home that was left to him by his recently deceased aunt.

Jack quickly sprang out of bed and got dressed. Soon after eating a bowl of cereal with his morning coffee, there came a knock on the door. He answered it with his coffee in hand to find his best bud Chris, who in turn had his own coffee. "Good morning," Jack said.

"Good morning to you too" Chris replied, entering the house. "What do you want to start on first today?"

"The goal for today is to rip out the old carpet" Jack informed. "There's an old hardwood floor under it and I think I'm going to re-finish it instead of adding new carpet."

"Cool. I like hardwood floors better than carpet. Much easier to keep clean."

They chatted a bit longer while enjoying their coffee and then began the arduous process of ripping out thirty year old carpet that seemed only have only been cleaned a few times in all those years. Jack's Aunt Linda wasn't the cleanliest person when she was among the living. To make matters worse, she had cats in the house and there was so much cat hair and dust rising into the air as they yanked away at pulling the carpet up, so much so that Jack had to wear a face mask in order to breath without choking. Remodeling the entire house had taken months but he was so close now to being finished, and it beat living in that old camper on his parent's land. Jack had lost his job at the factory six months before because of the worldwide Covid pandemic and was having a real hard time finding work again. He had to move out of his nice apartment in the city and move back to his parents land until he good get back on his feet again. Then, just a few months after moving back, his aunt passed away due to the virus. She had also lived on his parent's land at the back end of the property but he never expected to be the one who inherited her home. Yet, he was the only one who really took the time to visit her weekly and help her with chores. It was hard on him when she passed so quickly with little warning but he knew she was in a better place where there was no more suffering or pain.

They continued to pull up the carpet, going from room to room. It took about three hours before the entire house was done. The old hardwood floor underneath was still in great condition and solid. It creaked a bit here and there but in Jack's opinion it just added to the character of the old home. From what he'd been told, the house was built in the early 1900s by an old gold miner who had moved to Texas from Alaska after the Alaska Gold Rush of 1897. According to the story, the man who built the house had done well in striking gold and moved back to Texas to start an oil business with the gold he'd mined. "It won't be hard to bring this old floor back to life with a little TLC," Chris stated, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Not at all," Jack agreed. "A little sanding and a fresh coat of stain and varnish will do the trick." Jack took a seat on the floor and put his back to the wall since they had to take all the furniture out of the house to remove the carpet. He turned up a bottle of water and finished it off. Chris soon took a seat next to him and exhaled a sigh of physical exhaustion. "I really appreciate you helping me with this."

"I'm glad I could help," Chris told him.

"You still thinking about starting that barbecue shop?" Jack asked. Chris was a welder and had been doing it for almost twenty years. He was tired of the daily grind and always hoped to open a barbecue shop one day. Chris loved to cook and made some of the best barbecue around East Texas.

"I'd love to but that takes money," Chris stated. "I've looked around at some of the leases around town and they are just way too high. It would be cheaper just find a small lot and build a small shop but that too takes a good penny to do."

"Well I know one thing is for sure. If you ever managed to open one you'd have lots of business. You make the best ribs and brisket around."

"Thanks. I think so too."

"If I had the means I'd buy the shop and go in as partners with you. I could use a job myself."

Chris nodded. "I hear ya. It would be fun working together. It wouldn't even feel like work as much as we cut up. If you are doing what you love and making good money...well makes life that much better."

"Amen to that," Jack said. A brief silence passed and it was clear to Jack that they were both daydreaming about the idea of opening that barbecue shop. But no matter how great it sounded, neither of them had any kind of buying power. It was just a dream that seemed unreachable. "Well, you never know what the future holds. Don't give up on it."

"I won't," Chris replied. "I've been praying about it. If God wants it to be then it will be."

"For sure," Jack commented. "I think I need some more water."

As Jack began to lift himself off the floor, one of the loose boards of the hardwood floor gave way like a see-saw, sending Jack back down to his rear. "Loose board?" Chris questioned through a slight chuckle.

"It appears so," Jack confirmed, picking up the loose board and examining it. "Nothing a few screws can't fix." Jack leaned over to place the board back in it's place when he noticed something inside the floor. It looked like a book or small box at first glance. "What do we have here?"

Chris moved over to see with curiousness. "What is it?'

Jack reached down and removed a little black book from inside the floor. "It's some kind of book," Jack stated. The book was covered with a film of dust from all the years beneath the floor. There was no title on the book cover. He opened the book to find an array of journal entries in ink. Each journal entry had dates. One of them was dated 1898.

"That looks like an old diary," Chris said, hovering over Jack's shoulder.

"I think it is. I bet this is from the man who built this house in the early 1900s."

"Oh cool. That would be interesting to read through."

"No doubt." Jack flipped the pages to the back of the book to the final entry. Jack read the entry aloud. "If you are reading this book then I am no longer here. While I cashed in my fortune and invested it into my oil business, I did keep a few pieces of gold nuggets. I buried them by the base of the oak tree in the front yard in case there was a fire in the house. If you dig down about a foot at the front of the tree, you will find a tin can with three small nuggets. I hope you use it to better your life and not waste it on booze and fast living as so many of my friends did in my time. God Bless. Signed, Bill R. Crowley.

Jack looked at Chris who was staring back at him with attentive eyes. "You thinking what I'm thinking?" Chris finally asked.

"I'll get the shovel."

In the front yard at the base of the only oak tree in the front yard, Jack began digging as the journal specified. "You think it's really here? I mean, what if the guy just said that as a prank or something?'

"We'll soon find out," Jack said as he continued to dig. Then, with a thrust into the dirt, the shovel struck something metal. They both heard the metal clank sound clearly. Jack immediately dropped down to his knees to dig out the rest with his hands. He could feel his heart starting to race with excitement and anticipation as he pulled out a rusty tin can. He shook it lightly to hear something rattling inside. Both he and Chris shared a look of exhilaration as he removed the lid from the can. He peered inside.

"Is it gold?" Chris asked eagerly.

To answer, Jack opened his hand and emptied the contents of the can into his palm. Three small gold nuggets fell from the can into his hand.

Chris laughed out loud joyously. "I can't believe this! He was telling the truth!"

"Looks like your prayers were answered!" Jack cried aloud, moving to hug his friend. They shared a brief hug and then focused back on the gold nuggets. "How much you think this is worth?"

"I wouldn't know. We need to weigh it and look it up online. It will tell us."

After a little research and a few phone calls, Jack found out the nuggets were worth twenty thousand dollars. He had thought about sinking it into his new home but then he remembered what he'd told his best friend. It was time to make good on his promise. Chris had no clue when Jack asked him to meet him for lunch at this place town where he told Chris that he wanted to talk to him about that business idea they had. But the big surprise was that Jack had already purchased the shop. Jack was sitting on the tailgate of his truck outside the shop when Chris pulled in.

"I thought we were going to eat lunch here," Chris said, seemingly confused. "This place don't look open."

"Well it isn't yet," Jack told him, pitching him a key.

Chris caught the key in mid air and looked at it, raised a questionable eyebrow.

"We have to open it ourselves." Jack told him. "This is our new barbecue shop."

"You're pulling my leg! You're messing with me right?"

"No, I bought it with the cash from the gold. It was fifteen thousand. Needs a little TLC to get up and running but it's ours. The only question is, what do you want to name it?"

Chris raced over with overwhelming joy and gave Jack a bear hug. "I can't believe you did this! This is like one of the best moments of my life! I can't believe this is really happening!"

"Like I said, your prayers were answered," Jack said. "Come on, let's go take a look inside."

"Alright!" Chris said joyfully. "Let's do this!"

It took a few months but before long, their barbecue shop was opened. They had decided to name it "Crowley's BBQ" after the man who had left them the gold, in honor of him. The shop became an instant hit and people from all over the state came to taste the best barbecue around. They closed around 2:00 pm every day after the lunch crowd and he and Chris would often sit out on the deck and enjoy a cold beverage. "Still hard to believe we own our own restaurant," Jack said, taking a drink.

"Yeah it is. And to think it all started with a little black book that had been in the floor for over a hundred years." Chris raised his drink to the sign to toast. "Here's to you Mr. Crowley. We appreciate your help."

Jack raised his drink to the toast. "Here, here. Thank you Mr. Crowley."