Eli watched his father’s face.
The embarrassment was gone.
What replaced it was responsibility.
“What do we do?”
The repair took most of the fall.
First the cattle were fenced away from the entire lower pasture.
Then pumps lowered the pond gradually rather than draining it all at once.
As the water receded, the depression became obvious.
Mud sloped toward a darker central cavity.
Fragments of stone appeared.
Part of an old wooden beam emerged near the shaft, blackened but still recognizable as timber.
Warren stood beside Eli when they saw it.
“That might have been the old cover.”
“You think Great-Grandpa knew it was bad?”
Warren was quiet.
“No.”
“You sure?”
“No.”
Eli looked at him.
Warren continued.
“That’s the trouble with family stories. Every generation cleans them a little.”
They watched workers place barriers around the exposed area.
“My father said it was handled.”
“Maybe he believed it.”
“Probably.”
“Does it bother you?”
Warren smiled sadly.