The Amazing Adventures of 4¢ Ned (Coinworld: Book Two)

by Benjamin Laskin

  Pete looked himself over and grimaced. “I’m just happy to be alive.”

  “Pete Penny,” Damian repeated with a shake of his head, still unable to believe that the homely, warped Lincoln standing in front of him could be the same coin he had heard so much about. “Is it true what they say?”

  Pete shrugged. “If it’s good; I hope so. If it’s bad; I hope not.”

  “Modesty. I see that part’s true. How about the part that next to The Four, no one’s better on his rim than you?”

  “Oh, I’m sure there are many coins better than me in that department.”

  “Well, there’s one way to find out. Today’s wrestling tournament.”

  “I’m sorry, but I don’t wrestle.”

  “Have you something against it?”

  “I enjoy watching coins tussle as much as the next penny, but I’m purely a spectator.”

  “Not at the Grand Canyon Bullion Base,” Damian said, a hint of menace in his voice. “We don’t have spectators here.”

  Pete cleared his throat. “So, um, when do you expect Darla back?”

  Damian shrugged. “She didn’t say, and I haven’t heard a word from her since she left. I’m in command until she returns.”

  “I’d like to use your reflecting pool to call headquarters, if it’s okay.”

  “What’s so urgent?”

  “I’ve been MIA for a long time, and I want to let Deirdre and the others know that I’m all right.”

  “MIA?”

  “I was part of Coin Team Two. Maybe you heard about it.”

  “Was Clark Quarter on that mission?”

  “You knew Clark Quarter?”

  “Just his reputation as an up-and-comer. Another Kipp or Cody Quarter, I heard said.”

  “He was there, yeah,” Pete answered flatly.

  “Did the others make it back with you?”

  Pete looked away. “I don’t know what became of them.”

  “You left Raiders in the field?” Damian said accusingly.

  “It’s a long story,” Pete answered, shamefaced. “Your CBS, do you mind?”

  Damian smirked. “By all means. After the wrestling tournament.”

  “But—”

  “Like I said, I’m commander here until Darla returns. If Darla returns.”

  “What do you mean, ‘if’?”

  “She’s part of a big mission. As you know, every mission is dangerous.”

  “What do you know about this mission?” Pete asked.

  “Only that it involves The Four and the rescuing of some silver dollar he fancies.”

  “Franny! He’s located her?”

  “You know her?”

  “We met briefly once.”

  “She must be quite a dame if headquarters is mounting a special operation just for her.”

  “One of a kind, in fact,” Pete replied. “I wish I could be there.” He glanced searchingly about and saw a half dollar take to the air in the distance.

  “Sorry, pal,” Damian said, guessing Pete’s thoughts. “We’re shorthanded, and I have no eagles to spare. Besides, I heard that the mission is already underway and that the team is in the field.”

  “Deirdre too?”

  “So I heard.”

  “Isn’t Kipp Quarter posted here? We’re old friends. I was his instructor at the Badlands base. I’m sure he’d pilot me to headquarters.”

  “Maybe you didn’t hear me, penny. I’m in command here, not you.” He spoke the words with a steel-lipped smile. “Besides, Kipp Quarter’s not around either.”

  “Not around?” Pete said, hope deflating with his words. “But, of course. A big mission like that, they’d want someone like Kipp to join them.”

  “No mission. The quarter’s gone MIA, like you did.”

  “We lost Kipp?” Pete said with disbelief.

  Damian nodded, but Pete didn’t think the dime seemed too upset about the loss. “A hawk got him. Him and others. Darn shame.”

  Pete slumped against a nearby stone and stared at the ground. When he looked up he thought he saw Damian swallow a smirk.

  “I assume Darla sent a search team,” Pete said.

  “Led one myself.” He gestured towards the surrounding vastness. “A needle in a haystack were better odds.”

  “If you can’t spare an eagle to fly me to headquarters, how about to the next closest bullion base?”

  “What’s wrong with this base?”

  “Nothing,” Pete answered. “I’m just anxious to get back, that’s all.”

  “I’m running an army base here, penny, not a taxi service.”

  “You can’t spare one Washington quarter?”

  “We’re all booked up here, penny. I already have missions planned through the end of the month. If you’re that desperate, why not go on that cockeyed silver dollar you came in on?”

  “I don’t think they’re up to such a long journey. They haven’t been trained properly yet, and I don’t want to put them in any more danger.”

  “Big of you, but then it looks like you’re stuck with us for a while. Unless…” The smirk returned from hiding.

  “Unless what?”

  “Unless you whip the base wrestling champion.”

  “I told you, I don’t—”

  Damian spun on his edge and started to roll off. He said over his shoulder, “That’s the deal, Beat Pete.”

  “Okay,” Pete shouted after him. “I’ll do it. What’s there to lose anyway?”

  Damian stopped and smiled. He turned and offered Pete a slight bow in acknowledgment. Then he strolled off again in an easy roll.

  “A reputation is a lot to lose, penny,” the dime whispered to himself. “And a lot to gain.”

  The base’s stadium sat near steps of shale stone that rose like bleachers. Ramps made it easy for the coins to fill the stands. Most grappling matches drew a few dollars’ worth of change, but today was special. Coins filled the bleachers to overflowing. Today the coins wanted to see if the rumors were true.

  A few of the coins had crossed Pete’s path along the way, but none had ever seen him in action. They weren’t sure who he’d be facing, as the base boasted several excellent grapplers, but they had their suspicions.

  Pete stood in the center of the wrestling circle and looked warily about. A smattering of coins in the stands whistled and applauded.

  A sparkling silver dollar leaning against the lowest step yelled, “Go get ‘em, Paul!”

  Pete grinned and nodded to Sadie.

  Sadie smiled, showed off her newly buffed surfaces, and curtsied. The late afternoon sun gleamed off her beaming face.

  Pete mouthed the word ‘wow,’ and winked at her. He thought she didn’t look a day earlier than 1921. What might the spa do for him? he wondered.

  A loud round of hoots erupted, drawing Pete’s attention to two half dollars rolling in single file towards him from the sidelines. He figured one of them was his opponent. Would it be the 1915 Barber half dollar or the 1946 Walking Liberty half dollar?

  Although both looked big and imposing, he hoped it would be the Barber because she had no arms or legs that could be animated. The Walking Liberty half dollar looked like Hannah from Coin Island, and he knew well how strong and accomplished she was.

  To humans all coins of the same make looked alike, but not to other coins. The Walking Liberty half dollar looked like Hannah, but Pete could spot the differences immediately. As with every penny, nickel, dime, or quarter, each had his or her own gait, posture, voice, telltale scratches or tarnishing, and distinctive character.

  The two women rolled into the ring and halted standing rim-to-rim in front of Pete. They stared at him.

  Pete offered a weak smile. “Hi, ladies,” he said. “I-I’m not wrestling both of you, am I? I mean, that hardly seems…”

  The stone-faced half dollars exchanged glances, nodded, and then one rolled left and the other right. Their separation revealed the lone figure of Damian Dime, who had entered the arena in tandem
with them, hidden from sight by their large bodies.

  The audience roared with laughter, delighted by the dime’s theatrics.

  “You?” Pete said. “You’re the champion here?”

  “Why so surprised, penny?”

  “No,” Pete stuttered, “it’s-it’s just I’ve never seen a dime champion before.”

  Damian smirked. “To tell the truth, I became champion by default. Kipp Quarter held that honor until his unfortunate disappearance. However, I like earning what I have. I’m a coin after all, and so I hold anything free in abhorrence, which is why I’m challenging you, the great Pete Penny. I’m sure even a penny can understand that.”

  Pete bobbed his head. It was true in general. If something was free, then there was no use for coins. Pete just wasn’t sure that wrestling matches between friends fell under that category.

  Damian turned and showed Pete his backside, which depicted an olive branch, an oak branch, and between them, a torch. Pete understood that the three elements symbolized liberty, peace, and strength, but he didn’t know why Damian felt it necessary to show him.

  Thinking that turning away from your opponent was a custom at the Grand Canyon Bullion Base—every base had its own customs to build solidarity and camaraderie—Pete turned too. Facing the audience on the shale steps now, he wiggled his fanny side at Damian. The coins bust into laughter.

  Pete heard an animal-like grunt and turned back around. To his amazement, Damian’s flambeau had animated and was blazing like a tiki torch.

  “Wow!” Pete exclaimed. “Nice trick. You’ve really taken ambiversity to a new level! Is that real fire?”

  “You tell me, penny,” Damian replied. He hopped and spurt his torch into Abe Lincoln’s beard.

  “Ow!” Pete dropped face-first to the dirt and scooted across the ring. When he stood back up half his beard was singed from his face.

  The crowd of coins hooted with laughter. It was a mean and rotten thing to do to a fellow coin, but they still thought it hilarious.

  Damian doused his flame and faced Pete. “Was that real enough for you?”

  “Man, oh man, Damian,” Pete groused. “A simple yes would have done. It’ll take me months to grow my whiskers back.”

  “I’m surprised you fell for it, frankly.”

  “I didn’t know such a thing was possible. Like I said, I’ve been out of commission for a while. Say, you know what we could use Roosevelt’s like you for?”

  “Walkie-talkies, duh.” He snorted in derision and shook his head.

  Pete frowned, but he ignored the slight. “Are you field tested?”

  “Of course.”

  “And how’s the connection?”

  “As good as a match flame’s, but unlike a match, I can burn for minutes at a time.”

  “Cool. Where did you learn to do that?”

  Damian squinted at Pete, his eye as sharp as a spear’s point. “What makes you think anyone taught me, penny?”

  “You learned that trick on your own? I’m impressed. Keep up the good work!”

  Damian smirked. “Are you ready, penny? The crowd’s getting restless.”

  “If you insist, but like I said, I’m a lover not a fighter.” He smiled.

  Damian didn’t laugh. He didn’t even grin. “And I’m a soldier, not a pansy.”

  At that, Damian lurched with surprising speed. He pancaked, whipped around, and swept Pete off his rim and onto his back.

  The crowd roared in excitement.

  Both coins flipped back onto their rims and faced one another. Damian circled Pete, slowly maneuvering him towards the edge of the ring.

  Pete, who was almost more oval than round because of his many misadventures, dipped up and down as he rolled. His movements distracted Damian and forced his head to bob like a buoy.

  Damian faked a charge. Pete flinched and backpedaled, putting him within an inch of the circle’s edge. He tried to sprint away, but Damian blocked his path. Pete skidded to a halt and the dime closed the gap. Damian delivered a head-butt that sent Pete reeling. The penny wobbled at the edge of the circle.

  The stands howled with approval.

  Seeing his chance for a quick victory, Damian darted at the penny and attempted to drive him over the line with a jab of his rim.

  Pete pivoted just in time, the dime’s smack hitting nothing but the nimble penny’s shadow. Pete used the moment to shoot back into the center of the ring. Damian spun and raced to meet him.

  “I’m just warming up, penny,” Damian said. He spun, showed Pete his back, and flared his torch twice to make his point. He faced the penny again and smirked. “Maybe you can use your wheat stalks to tickle me to death,” he mocked.

  Pete was beginning to think that maybe he didn’t like Damian Dime very much. He thought he could get along with most every coin, but the snotty dime was starting to get on his nerves. And that singeing of his beard, well, gosh-darn-it, that was just uncalled for. Even an unattractive penny had a modicum of dignity to look after.

  Damian moved in and took a swipe at Pete, first with a left twist and then a right. Pete ducked both, leaning back at a 45º angle, and then forward with the same.

  Oohs and ah’s filled the stadium. None of the coins had ever seen such gravity-defying control.

  The coins’ reaction incensed Damian. He’d show them what moves really looked like. He went into turbo-twirl and chased hopping after Pete, churning up a cloud of dust as he bounced.

  Pete bounded about the ring like a Mexican jumping bean, “Opa! … Opa!” He leapt left and right, and at times seemed to hang suspended in the air. He triple flipped over Damian and swatted the dime skidding towards the edge of the ring.

  Recalling his young friend and sparring partner, Cassius Clay, Pete taunted, “Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee, the dime can’t hit what the dime can’t see!”

  Damian seethed and shot the penny a hard, furious eye. He bent low and shouted, “Flame on!”

  The torch on his backside spewed like a flamethrower. The stream of fire blazed across the ring at Pete, who narrowly leapt away in time. So powerful was the flare that it reached the bleachers and branded the fanny of a buffalo nickel.

  Enraged, the Indian brave hollered a war cry and he and his buffalo charged into the ring. The stands emptied, a brawl broke out, and chaos ensued.

  Cockeyed Sadie and Ernie looked about and took cover behind a rock. They weren’t about to join the brawl and chance messing up their shiny new coats so soon.

  A collection of coins charged at Pete. They wound up and swung haymakers at him with their edges. Pete easily evaded or ducked their blows and sent the exuberant rowdies tumbling with well-placed taps of his hip.

  “Easy fellas,” he said. “We’re all friends here.”

  Pete saw Damian plow his way through the melee, knocking aside any coin in his way, including two silver dollars. A little Titan that dime, Pete thought.

  A sharp whistle froze everyone in their places.

  All heads swiveled to a figure hovering above the ground, its eagle wings flapping gently, a penny in one talon and a half dollar with a broken eagle’s wing in the other.

  The coins ceased their brawling and every jaw in the stadium unhinged. The coins blinked in disbelief, and then a moment later, they exploded with cheers—“Kipp!”

  Kipp Quarter gently set down his passengers and alighted onto the ground. The coins rushed at Kipp, bowled him over, and swallowed him up in their adoration and relief at seeing him alive.

  Pete smiled and blinked away a tear. He looked for Damian among the throng and spotted the dime looking on from a distance, an expression of jealousy and contempt written on his face.

  In the corner of his eye, Pete detected a sparkling, golden glint in the sky. It was fleeting and seemed to have disappeared around the corner of the sheer canyon wall. Wrapped up in their joy of seeing Kipp Quarter again, none of the other coins appeared to have noticed.

  Pete glanced again at Damian, wondering if
he had seen the golden twinkle. Apparently he had, because while everyone else showered their affection on their returning comrade, Damian was already bucking in the direction where the gilded shimmer had vanished.

  Intrigued, Pete wanted to follow the dime, but Kipp had caught his eye and signaled to him with a wag of his head to come over. Pete hesitated, but then he shrugged off his curiosity, and bucked over to his friend. They greeted one another with a chest bump, and in his excitement Pete forgot all about Damian and the mysterious golden sparkle.

  Damian Dime snuck along the camp’s perimeter and stuck close to the canyon’s wall to remain out of view from suspicious eyes.

  He ducked under the branches of cacti and other succulents, snuck from rock to rock, and crawled bucking on his belly under a fluffy sagebrush. He rounded a corner, wiggled through some tall weeds, and spotted a clearing between three boulders near the sheer canyon wall, well out of view from any prying eyes.

  Damian leaned back, gazed up at the sky, and smiled. “Nicolai,” he said.

  10

  double trouble

  Damian marveled at the golden eagle fluttering down towards him, a shiny nickel in tow.

  Damian recognized the eagle as a 1907 Saint-Gaudens’s $20 double eagle, the first and only double eagle he had ever seen. He knew double eagles existed, of course, but they were primarily used for large international transactions in which gold was required, not in common day-to-day business.

  Chief Iron Tail and Deirdre Dime instructed their Raiders to ignore the coin if they stumbled across one. Gold double eagles were heavy to carry, and the purloining of the exceptionally valuable coins would draw too much human attention. The piece Damian was gaping at was worth tens of thousands of dollars to a collector.

  First issued in 1850 in response to the large amounts of gold dug up during the California Gold Rush, the twenty-dollar gold piece got its “double eagle” name because it was double the value of a $10 gold piece.

  The sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens redesigned the coin in 1907 at the request of President Theodore Roosevelt. Many collectors considered the Saint-Gaudens double eagle to be one of the most gorgeous of all US coins.