I skipped last week in favor of writing a post about Racism & The Death Penalty, a bit heavy compared to what I’ve been writing recently. Just before I move on to my weekly challenge, I thought it would be fun to remind/share/read for the first time, a blog I wrote two years earlier to the date of the recent ruling for marriage equality (It’s old so be kind). Both posts hinge on morality and ethics, so if you need to know who I am, read them. And while you’re at it, read other things too, like my favorite posts, My Young Trip To China, which was three parts. (Part 1, Part 2, Part 3)
All right, moving on! This week’s challenge was to write a story about a coin’s journey. Here is the link to the post on HitRecord, and below is the short story itself. Enjoy!
Peace & Loneliness
I was minted in Philadelphia, 1922. I moved away from home at a very young age. I went to Atlantic City and found myself in the pocket of a well-off gentleman. He had picked me up from the bank the day I arrived.
I was the only coin in his pocket as he swaggered along. A small piece of lint was my only companion. I heard an excited voice of a small boy as the well-off gentlemen reached down to grab me. It was warm out and the rays of sunlight gleamed from every shiny object nearby.
“Uncle Albert! Uncle Albert! It’s my birthday!”
“That it is Jimmy, and I have a magic trick for you.”
Before I knew what was happening, Uncle Albert’s hand reached by Jimmy’s ear and pretended to pluck me from his inner ear canal. How he thought this would trick the small boy was beyond me, but it worked.
The boy grabbed at me with two hands and held me up an inch from his nose.
“Wow, it’s so shiny! Thank you Uncle Albert!”
I was being admired and I kind of liked it. From my short time since the Mint, I was piecing together the puzzle of my new world. This boy would treasure me and hold onto me until he was Uncle Jimmy and pass me to another little boy like him. I would be his lucky coin.
This was fantastic; he didn’t even bother to slip me into his pocket. He had two other boys with him and they began running down the wooden boards while everyone else walked. I was held aloft, my shiny tail held high in the air. I noticed one small girl caught a reflection off my head, turning her away. It saddened me.
The breeze felt good and the place I deemed a, “boardwalk,” looked endless. We would continue running until the boys were out of breath and everyone had properly seen me and then we would travel back home where I could be shown off to anyone visiting.
The breeze began to slow, we started to turn and one of Jimmy’s friends opened a large glass door and all three scurried inside together. Behind the counter in a striped shirt was an older man that looked like Uncle Albert but with less hair.
Jimmy held me aloft.
“How much for this?”
The man looked at me in all my glory. I felt like I was glowing.
“More than three little boys can eat.”
Jimmy waved me around and repeated himself firmly. I was dizzy.
“Well son, that’s a Peace Dollar. You sure you want to spend it-“
“Yes I’m sure mister. The whole thing for as much taffy as you’ll give us.”
What was happening? Jimmy handed me to the man and in return the man handed Jimmy a bag of colorful items. He hurried out the door with his friends. The man held me up to his eye and tried to take a bite out of me. This is how it ends. I would be eaten for dinner.
He opened a drawer attached to his counter and dropped me; twirling through the air, metal clanging against metal. He pushed in the drawer. Then, it was dark. I was alone.
Hours passed and the drawer opened and closed and opened and closed and opened and closed. Moments of light would beam from me followed by long waits in suffocating darkness.
Years upon years, I stayed in the drawer, other coins filtering in and out. New Uncle would open the drawer the most, sometimes a young boy named, “Thank You,” and a little girl named, “Have a Good Day,” would open the drawer. Each of them always looked at me for a moment, before closing me back into my solitude.
The little boy and the little girl changed, looking similar to Uncle but without light colored hair and glasses. One particular sunny day, Thank You opened the drawer and looked at me. His eyes were red and he took a deep breath before grabbing me. Warm sensations traveled through my metallic radius.
Thank You held me up to his nose and handed me off to, Have a Good Day. She did the same as they exited the shop together. She clasped me between her hands while we traveled in a loud, bumpy ride.
We came to a stop and she began walking from the car, the bright sun lit up the inside of her hands. I heard waves approaching and, Thank You began to speak. We stopped.
“Pop. We know you loved us with all of your heart, we never doubted that. But we know how much you loved your candy shop. And we brought your lucky coin.”
The sun shined like a new flash bulb.
“Ready?” Have a Nice Day asked.
“Ready,” Thank You replied.
We were at the edge of a great body of water. The little boy, now a man, turned a metal vase upside down as soot fell from it into the water. The little girl, now a woman, held me up to the sun, pulled her arm back, and flung me into the air.
The breeze reminded me of my first day out and the sun sent shards of light in all directions. I Ker-plunked into the cool water and floated down, down, down and in the end, I was someone’s lucky coin.
Do Something Good,Matt