The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) (5 page)

He pawed through the box some
more, and finally located a small cardboard box. He opened it, and pulled out a
square black metal box that had a meter on it and long cables. He snapped the
metal box onto the pole midway, and twisted the cables around the lower portion
of the pole until they reached the disc, where he slipped the ends of the
cables over two metal prongs.

“This disc,” Marty said, “will
detect any metal underneath it, and cause this box here to make a noise. I’ll
bet it needs batteries.” Marty popped the batter cover off the back of the
black metal box and removed an old 9V battery, then went to a rack of containers
underneath his workbench. He pulled out a plastic tub that had a variety of
batteries, selected a 9V, and put it into the box.

“Now, did you bring that nickel?”
Marty asked.

“Yes,” Winn said, digging into his
pocket.

“Put it on the ground, right
there,” Marty said, motioning to the floor. Winn placed the nickel on the
ground and Marty demonstrated the metal detector by moving it slowly over the
wooden planks of the floor, slowly towards the nickel. When the edge of the
detector passed over the coin, a speaker on the metal box let out a squeal.

“Ha ha! You see, it works!” Marty
said. “Let’s take this over to where you lost the nickel, and see if we can
find it!”

“Can I try it?” Winn said with
sudden enthusiasm.

“Once we get there, I’ll let you
do the searching,” Marty said.

They left the shed, Marty grabbing
a gardening trowel as they walked out. He took pains to lock it back up, then
they made their way out of Marty’s yard and down the driveway.

“Where did you get that thing?”
Winn asked.

“They were all the rage in the
seventies,” Marty said. “People used to use them on beaches and other public
places, finding money that people had dropped, or jewelry. People always like
the idea of getting rich by finding something, not having to work for it. This
little device made a lot of people think they were going to be millionaires,
and they sold like hotcakes.”

Winn thought about his and Brent’s
plan to find the iron door mine. It was the same plan, to get rich quick
without a lot of effort.

“Of course, it didn’t take long
for most of the easy money to be found,” Marty said. “This thing could detect
metal a couple of inches in the ground, and before long, almost every square
inch of any public space had been combed over. People found a lot of pop can
tabs. Back in those days, they didn’t stick to the top of the can like they do
now. You’d pull them off and throw them away, and people would just toss them
anywhere. After I found my thousandth one, I packed this little puppy away.
Maybe it’ll come in handy today!”

“I hope so,” Winn said. “I really
want that nickel back.”

They walked behind Winn’s trailer,
toward the tree with the platform. “Your momma home?” Marty asked.

“Nope, she has an early shift on
Fridays,” Winn said, leading Marty to the spot. He stopped once he was under
the tree, and pointed up. “The treehouse is up there.”

Marty looked up. “Good god, how do
you get up there?”

“I climb the trailer first, then
jump to the branch there,” Winn said, pointing again.  “Then we go along that
branch to the trunk, and up to the platform.”

“It’s a pretty good hideout,”
Marty said. “I can barely make out the wood from here. Pretty high up, too.”

“So, if it fell off the platform,
it has to be around here somewhere,” Winn said, pointing down.

“Here, take this,” Marty said,
handing him the metal detector. Winn placed it near the ground and began moving
it. “Go slow, and go in a pattern. Imagine a giant square underneath the tree,
full of a grid. We’re going to go from square to square in that grid, going completely
across and then back again, until we find it. You can’t just go swiping it
anywhere, you’ll…”

 The black box on the detector
handle squealed, and Winn froze.

“Don’t move it!” Marty said,
walking over to where Winn was standing. “Move it back and forth, gently.”

Winn moved the detector to the
right and left as Marty instructed, hearing the oscillation of the box go up
and down as he did.

“Try to center it right over the
sound!” Marty said. Winn narrowed the spot, and Marty placed the tip of his toe
under the detector. “Alright, you can move it away,” he said.

Winn watched as Marty searched the
ground under his toe. There was nothing on the surface of the ground that they
could see.

“What’s making it screech?” Winn
asked.

“There’s something made of metal
here,” Marty said. “It might be under the ground a bit.” He began digging with
the trowel. When he turned over the ground, something silver caught the
sunlight, and Winn yelled, “that’s it!”

Marty brushed the dirt off the
nickel and held it up. “You sure?” he passed it to Winn.

“Yes, I remember the date. 1950,
with a little ‘S’ next to it,” Winn said. He held it between his fingers,
expecting the rush of good feelings to begin, but they didn’t.

“It’s not working,” he said,
confused.

“Let’s get it home and clean it
up,” Marty said. “Maybe it’ll work after you get all the dirt off it.”

They walked back to Marty’s
trailer. “Why was it down in the ground?” Winn asked. “If I dropped it, it should
have been on the surface, not buried like that.”

“Maybe you stepped on it by
accident while you were searching for it,” Marty said.

“Even if I stepped on it, it
wouldn’t have gone down that far into the soil,” Winn said. “I want to drop
into the River and see if it glows.”

“Wait ‘til we get back to my
trailer,” Marty said. “No sense in drawing attention to yourself out here in
the open.”

Winn spit on the coin, trying to
get more of the dirt off the image of Thomas Jefferson, but even his saliva
didn’t get all of it to dislodge from the little nooks and crannies of the
coin.

“Do you think it’s worth
anything?” Winn asked as they walked.

“Don’t know,” Marty said. “I know
a website that gives old coin values. We can look it up.”

“I mean because of the way it
makes you feel,” Winn said. “That should make it valuable.”

“Well, valuable to you,” Marty
said. “It might only work for you. Or for someone who’s gifted.”

“We’ll test it and see,” Winn
said, “once we get it cleaned up.”

They reached Marty’s trailer and
went inside. Winn took the coin to the kitchen sink and let water run over it.
It got most of the dirt off, but not all of it.

“Wait, I have an old toothbrush we
can use to get the rest off,” Marty said. He disappeared into the back of the trailer
and returned with a toothbrush that had bristles pointing in all directions.
“Can I try?”

“Sure,” Winn said, handing him the
coin. Marty placed it back under the running water, and scrubbed at it with the
toothbrush. Eventually all of the dirt came out of the little letters that surrounded
the edge of the nickel. He dried the coin in a towel, and handed it back to
Winn.

Winn placed it between his index
finger and thumb, and immediately he felt the sensations return to his stomach.
“We found it!” he said, as his eyes fluttered and rolled back in his head.

“Winn!” Marty said, reaching out
to grab him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m perfect!” Winn said, smiling
at him. “I’ve never felt so good! Here, try it.” He handed the coin to Marty,
who took it hesitantly.

Marty held it in the same manner
as Winn, and looked at the coin, waiting for something to happen.

Winn saw the distressed look on
Marty’s face as he realized something was going on in his stomach. “Don’t
worry, you won’t throw up,” Winn said.

Marty looked up at Winn and a broad
smile erupted on his face. Winn watched as Marty closed his eyes and his head
fell back. He knew exactly what Marty was feeling.

Eventually Marty leaned his head
back down and looked at Winn. “That,” he said, “was incredible.” He handed the
coin back to Winn and stood up, stretching his back. “No more back pain!” he
said, smiling at Winn. “I’ve had that pain in my back for a decade. This is the
first time I’ve not felt it without taking medication!”

“So, it is a valuable coin, isn’t
it?” Winn asked, setting it into the palm of his hand so it wouldn’t activate.

“Well, you and I are both gifted,”
Marty said. “That might be why it works. Who knows if it works on other,
regular people.”

“I can try it out on someone,”
Winn said.

“Did you say it glowed in the
River?” Marty asked.

“Yup,” Winn said. “It did.”

Winn watched as Marty dropped into
the flow, checking him out. He came back in a second.

“It does glow,” Marty said. “I
wonder why you couldn’t find it under the tree when you were looking in the
River. I mean, it couldn’t bury itself, could it? Here, set it on the table,
would you? Don’t touch it.”

Winn placed the nickel on the
table in front of him, and watched as Marty jumped into the River once again.
In a moment he came back.

“No glow,” he said. “It only glows
when it’s being touched.”

“I wanna see,” Winn said.

“Go ahead,” Marty replied.

Winn dropped into the River and
immediately saw what Marty meant. The nickel looked dull and black. If it had
been lying on the ground under the tree, he never would have seen it while in
the River. He left the flow. He picked up the nickel and placed it on the back
of his left hand.

“And it only seems to work when
you place it between your fingers,” Winn said. “See? I don’t feel anything.”

“May I?” Marty said, reaching for
the coin. Winn held his hand out, and Marty picked it up off the back of the
boy’s hand. He placed it on the back of his own hand, and waited.

“See, nothing!” Winn said. “Now
hold it between your fingers again.”

Marty picked the coin up off his
hand and held it as Winn suggested. Winn could see the effect of it on Marty,
and he smiled. “I’m right, huh?”

Marty’s eyes closed again, and he
waited until the pleasant feelings had passed through him before he replied.
“You are right.”

“It’s gotta be worth something,”
Winn said.

Marty stood up and walked down the
trailer. “Come with me, young man,” he said, leading Winn to the first bedroom
on the right. Inside was a desk with a computer. Marty turned the computer on
and sat in front of it as it booted up.

“You’re gonna want to be very
careful who you show this to,” Marty said. “Many people will want to take it
from you, maybe even some people close to you.”

Once Marty’s PC screen came to
life, he started up AOL and they heard the screech of his dial-up modem. Marty
began maneuvering around a web browser.

“You know, you used to have to
look up coin values in books,” Marty said. “I used to keep a few around, but
they were always outdated. When I was a kid I had dreams of finding a rare coin
and getting rich. Who knows, maybe yours is worth something. Let me plug in the
date and mint here, and see what we get.”

Marty typed in 1950 and an ‘S’ for
the mint, and hit search. Nothing came back.

“Huh,” Marty said. “Nothing. Let
me check something else.”

He pulled up a list of values,
sorted by date. He scanned down it, looking for 1950.

“Well, I’ll be!” he said.

“What?” Winn asked.

“San Francisco didn’t mint nickels
in 1950. That nickel you’re holding was never created. It doesn’t exist.”

“That’s impossible,” said Winn.
“It’s right here.” Winn looked down at the nickel on his palm, knowing that if
he picked it up between his fingers again, he’d get another round of euphoria.

“We’ll never know how much it’s
worth, son,” Marty said, turning off his computer. “You have an impossible
coin!”

“Three days,” Winn said, looking
from the coin to Marty. “When I was in the River, that’s what I heard. In my
head.”

“Three days?” Marty asked as they
walked back into the living room.

“Yeah,” Winn said. “I watched
myself holding the nickel as I felt really good, and I heard someone say ‘three
days’ in my head.”

“Really?” Marty asked. “Mind if I
try?”

“Sure,” Winn said, handing Marty
the coin. Marty held it between his fingers and dropped into the River. After a
few moments, he came back.

“Nothing,” Marty said. “Didn’t
hear anything.” He handed the coin back to Winn.

Winn placed the coin between his
fingers. As he felt the rush of euphoria, he slipped into the River, and
drifted upward. He turned to look at himself, seeing the nickel glowing
brightly. He could sense the waves of pleasure passing through his body, and he
tuned himself, straining to hear if the words would come again.

Two days.

He dropped out of the flow and
looked at Marty. “Two days. It said ‘two days’ this time! It’s counting down.”

“You’re sure you heard it?” Marty
asked.

“Absolutely. For sure.”

“So it only speaks to you,” Marty
said, rubbing his chin.

“What happens in two days?” Winn
asked.

“I don’t know,” Marty replied.

“I think it runs out,” Winn said.
“Like it expires. In two days, it won’t work anymore.”

“Maybe.”

“If that’s what it means, I should
just sit with it for two days straight and use it over and over again, since I
won’t be able to after it expires.”

“We should try to find out more
about it,” Marty said. “See if we can understand what it is, and how it works.”

“How?” Winn asked.

“Well, it’s made of silver, and
around here, if you want to know about silver, you go see the McGraves ghost.
He was a silver baron. He knows everything there is to know about metals.”

Winn put the coin into his pocket.
“The McGraves ghost?”

“He resides in the McGraves
mansion in Old Town,” Marty said. “Every gifted around here knows all about
him, because they’ve all been called in at one time or another to try and
exorcize the house.”

“Exorcize the house?” Winn asked.
“You mean they want him to leave?”

“They want his ghost to leave,”
Marty said. “McGraves made a fortune from silver mines, and he built that
beautiful mansion, but his personal life was a mess. He had a famous temper,
and no one could stand to be around him, including his wife. She up and left
him one day, and he was so distraught about it he committed suicide in the
kitchen. They say he was so angry, he grabbed a kitchen knife and plunged it
into his heart.”

Winn gulped.

“Now his ghost lives in that
kitchen,” Marty said. “The mansion is a historical landmark, and it’s open for
tours. Sometimes strange things happen in the kitchen, and they have a hard
time keeping people as tour guides, so the people who run the place have tried
to get McGraves to move on so things will settle down. It hasn’t worked,
primarily because he’s such an angry man and won’t listen to anyone. And
they’ve removed anything made of silver from the kitchen. There’s no appliances
or silverware or anything like that, because he’s still attracted to silver,
and he makes it move around, fly through the air. Scares people.”

“He doesn’t sound like someone I
want to talk to,” Winn said, afraid of Marty’s descriptions.

“Well, you need to,” Marty said,
trying to calm him. “You’re a child, so he’ll be more patient with you. He can
tell you where that coin came from. You just have to get it out of him.”

“I know where it came from,” Winn
said. “It came from the cave.”

“Yes, but who made it?” Marty
asked. “Why did they put it in your pocket? Will it really expire in two days?
Why does it make you feel so good? I mean, good heavens, it cleared up my back
pain just like that!” He snapped his fingers. “We need to know more about it.”

“So you think we should go to the
mansion and talk to him?” Winn asked.

“I do. We’ll take the tour. They
don’t let anyone into the kitchen – it’s too dangerous. They used to let people
into it, but people felt coins in their pockets moving around and their jewelry
trying to fly off their fingers and wrists. Scared people to death! So they
don’t let anyone in there anymore. They do, however, pass by the kitchen and
let you look in through a doorway. When we get to that part, I’ll distract the
tour guide, and you will slip into the kitchen. Once the tour group has moved
into the next room, you can speak with McGraves.”

“How do you know he’ll talk to
me?” Winn asked.

“The ghost of old McGraves is very
strong in that room,” Marty said. “The fact that you’re a child and that you’ll
have the nickel with you will make him want to talk to you, trust me. I think
the only thing you’ll have to do is drop into the River, and he’ll show up.”

“What do I say to him?”

“Try to get him to tell you about
the coin, where it came from, what it does, anything like that. He’ll put on a
show and get all blustery – you just ignore all that. And he’ll try to take the
coin from you. Whatever you do, don’t give it to him – you’ll never get it
back! He might try to trick you into giving it to him, but just keep it in your
pocket, don’t take it out to show him. He’s more than capable of figuring out
the coin while it stays safely in your pocket, OK?”

All the color had drained from
Winn’s face. “OK,” he replied, meekly.

“Oh, buck up!” Marty said. “It’ll
be fun! And you’ll know more about the nickel after we’re through. Tomorrow’s
Saturday, and tours will start at ten. Why don’t we go into town at nine, have
a breakfast somewhere, and we’ll hit the mansion after that?”

“Can Brent come with us?” Winn
asked. He knew Brent would be upset if he didn’t get to come along.

“Sure he can, just make sure his
dad OK’s it, alright?” Marty said. “I don’t need that son of a bitch on my
case.”

Winn smiled at Marty’s cursing.

“Excuse me, I shouldn’t be saying
that in front of you,” Marty said. “Forget I said that.”

“It’s OK, I think his dad is a son
of a bitch too!”

Marty looked at Winn. “You know,
if you talk that way in front of your mother, she’s gonna blame me. Don’t get
me into trouble!”

“My mom says way worse things,”
Winn said. “So she’s not going to blame you. I say worse things.”

“Well, you shouldn’t,” Marty said.

“You say them, and they’re true,”
Winn replied.

“I’m an old man and things
accidentally slip out. Half of what I say is stupid. You’re young, so you have
no excuse.”

“Maybe I just like to swear,” Winn
said.

“It’s nothing to be proud of,”
Marty replied. “And the last thing I need is Brent’s father finding out what I
think about him. So please keep that to yourself.”

“I won’t say anything. What time
tomorrow? To go to Old Town?”

“Let’s leave here at eight. Don’t
be late, we want to make the first tour right at ten when they open. There’s
less staff around at that time. Later they add more people to handle the
crowds.”

“OK, we’ll be here at eight,” Winn
said. He walked to the door. “Thanks for helping me find the nickel, Marty. I
thought I’d lost it for sure.”

“No problem kiddo. See you
tomorrow.”

Winn smiled at Marty and opened
the trailer door. He walked out to the wooden steps and down to the stepping
stones, then through Marty’s gate. Marty watched him go, wondering if the kid
would get any sleep with such a marvelous object in his pocket.

▪
▪
▪

Winn quietly slid a wooden crate
from under Brent’s trailer and used it to step up high enough to reach the
bottom of Brent’s bedroom window. He tapped lightly on the glass three times,
their signal.

Most of the time Brent was more
than comfortable knocking on the door to Winn’s trailer when he wanted to talk
to him. The only trouble he’d ever had was when he ran into one of the men
Winn’s mom brought home. Some of them were nice and friendly, but a few were
not.

Winn, on the other hand, told
Brent long ago that he wouldn’t knock on his trailer door if he wanted to talk
to him. The risk of Brent’s father being the one who opened it was too great.
Brent’s father was mean to everyone, and Winn didn’t want to interact with him
if he didn’t have to. They worked out the window tap as an alternative.

Winn saw Brent pull back a drape,
and in a second the lateral glass slats began to pry open a little as Brent
turned a crank inside.

“What’s up?” Brent whispered
though the screen.

“Marty and I are going to Old Town
tomorrow morning, to the McGraves mansion. We’re gonna do breakfast first, then
go on the tour. You wanna come? Marty said you could.”

“Yes, I want to go,” Brent said,
looking down at Winn between the panes of glass. “Anything to get out of here.”

“OK, be at Marty’s at eight,” Winn
said, then added, “and don’t be late. We have to make the first tour.”

“I’ll be there,” Brent said.
“Don’t leave without me.”

Winn nodded up to Brent and he saw
the slats of the window begin to close. The drape fluttered, and Brent was
gone. He jumped down off the wooden crate and quietly slid it back under the
trailer.

Winn felt his stomach growl, and
he decided to go home and prowl through the refrigerator and see if he could
find something to eat. The trailer was hot and stuffy, so he turned on the air
conditioning and cracked open the fridge, looking inside, enjoying the cold
spill out. He settled on making a sandwich, and got out the bread, peanut
butter, and jam. The whole thing was assembled within fifteen seconds, and he
dropped down onto the couch in the living room, turning on the TV with a
remote.
Wheel of Fortune
came on. He started flipping channels. They
didn’t have cable or satellite, so there were only a few channels to rotate
through. He took his first bite of sandwich and the channel landed on a local
news program. It was a picture of a large, pueblo style house. The title on the
screen under the house read: “The McGraves Mansion.”

He turned up the sound and took
another bite of his sandwich.

“…endowment to the University of
Arizona before ending his life at the mansion in 1905. The house sat empty for twenty
years, until after Arizona became a state, and the new legislature designated
the house a landmark. State funds were used to outfit the house for public
viewing, and there have been tours there ever since, displaying the unique
artifacts and sculptures made of silver that McGraves was so fond of
collecting.” The face of a middle aged woman appeared. “With the recent
cutbacks in support from the state, we’ve had to make a few changes at the
mansion. We’ve increased the price for a tour, and there’s a more extensive
selection of items in our gift shop. But the really big news is that the upper
level of the mansion is now available to rent, for special events like
receptions. It’s a one-of-a-kind place to hold your wedding!”

“If you like angry ghosts lurking
around,” Winn said out loud.

The images shifted to the grounds
of the property, which were beautifully manicured with large lawns – something
you didn’t routinely see in Tucson, where desert landscaping with rocks and
cacti were more common. The reporter was droning on about the number of people
who visited the estate each year.

“Talk about the ghosts!” Winn
yelled at the TV.

 “…so if there’s a wedding in your
future, the home of the area’s largest silver baron might be the place for
you!”

“Urgh!” he cried, reaching for the
remote and turning the TV off. He opted to read instead.

▪
▪
▪

Where is he?
Winn wondered,
becoming increasingly irritated. It was ten past eight, and he could tell Marty
was getting antsy to leave.

“You told him eight?” Marty asked.

“Yes, last night,” Winn said,
looking out the window from Marty’s trailer, down the driveway toward Brent’s home.
“He said he’d be here. I told him not to be late.”

“I doubt we’ll have time to go to
Andy’s for breakfast,” Marty said. “But if we just do a drive thru, I suppose
we could wait until eight thirty before we leave.”

Winn kept his eyes glued to the
driveway, waiting for any sign of Brent. He knew that if they left without him,
Brent would be pissed. Brent was always late like this, and it frustrated him.
He had half a mind to tell Marty they could leave without him, and hopefully
still make Andy’s. Then he remembered how hurt Brent had been the last time he
hadn’t waited for him, and he reconsidered.

“OK, a drive thru is fine with
me,” Winn said.

“We’ll wait then,” Marty replied,
pouring himself another cup of coffee.

They waited. Winn told Marty about
the TV program he’d seen the night before, but that it was useless. Marty told
Winn more about the McGraves mansion, things he’d read on the internet. Winn
was hearing half of what Marty was saying; the other half of his brain was
worried about Brent.

When eight-thirty rolled around,
Winn threw in the towel. “I guess he decided not to come,” he said. “I guess
we’ll have to leave him.”

“Alright,” Marty said. “You
brought the nickel?”

Winn reached inside his pants
pocket and pulled it out. He felt the feelings begin to rise. “Yup, this is
it,” he said, and dropped it back into his pocket.

“OK. Let’s load up in the car.”

As they drove down the driveway
past Brent’s trailer, Winn watched to see if Brent would emerge last minute,
but he didn’t. Marty maneuvered his Cadillac over the speed bumps at the
entrance to the trailer park, and they were on their way to Old Town.