Coinworld [Book Three]

by Benjamin Laskin

  “Hi, Fiona.”

  “You remember my name. Sorry, what’s yours again?” She knew his name, but she enjoyed seeing him squirm.

  “Adam.”

  “Right. No blackjack today?”

  “I’ve been here since the show opened,” he answered. “My dad is over there.” He pointed in the general direction and blushed again when he saw that his father was watching him.

  Mr. Stryker pretended to interest himself with a brochure he was holding, and turned away with a grin.

  Adam shuffled his feet and then regarded the table in front of them. “Peace Dollars,” he said.

  “I can read.”

  Adam cleared his throat. Talking to a girl was way harder than he had ever imagined!

  “Do you collect coins?” he asked her.

  “Some, but my uncle has a lot, a whole garden of them.”

  Was she teasing him again? “A garden?”

  “That’s right. But don’t tell him I told you. It’s kind of a secret.”

  “I promise. Where is your uncle?”

  The girl gestured absently towards a table in the distance. “Over there looking at a bunch of ancient coins. He likes the really old ones. Things found in shipwrecks or archeological digs.” Fiona turned back to the small collection of Peace Dollars. “She sure is beautiful, don’t you think?”

  Adam took Fiona’s words as an invitation to sidle up beside her.

  “Did you know that the Peace Dollar was struck to memorialize the peace following World War I?” he asked.

  “Tell me something I don’t know,” she rejoined curtly.

  “Um, well, the woman on the coin was modeled after a popular actress of the day. Her name was Teresa Cafarelli de Francisci. She’s still alive. She was born in 1898, so she’s about sixty-seven now. She was married to the guy who designed the coin. His name was Anthony de Francisci. The Commission of Fine Arts selected eight sculptors to submit designs. He was the youngest and hadn’t done anything like that before, but they chose his. He won one thousand five-hundred dollars. The guy died last year.”

  Fiona stared at the boy with parted lips. “Okay, you win.”

  “Win?”

  “For such a smarty-pants, you sure are obtuse.”

  “I don’t know that word. I can spell it, but to be honest, I’m not sure what it means.”

  Fiona smirked. “So there are some things you don’t know.”

  “I hope so. I’m only nine.”

  Adam regretted bringing up their age difference as soon as it slipped from his lips. Golly, were all girls so hard to talk to, or only this one? How did people ever get married!

  “See that 1922 Peace Dollar,” Fiona said, pointing to the shiny coin. “My uncle has one just like it. In fact,” she leaned closer and squinted, “if I didn’t know any better, I’d say that is his!”

  Adam withdrew a magnifying glass from his back pocket and offered it to Fiona.

  Fiona glanced at the glass and then at Adam. “You really are a geek, aren’t you? Besides,” she added with an ambiguous crank of an eyebrow, “they all look alike, right?”

  “Maybe to most of us, but maybe not to them.”

  “Them who?”

  “Other coins,” he answered with hesitation.

  “You think coins have a mind of their own?” she said accusingly.

  Adam shrugged a shoulder and returned the magnifying glass to his back pocket.

  Fiona’s blue eyes bore into Adam’s. She grabbed his hand and yanked him aside. She said in a roaring whisper, “Coinworld?”

  Adam’s jaw unhinged, and if his two blue peepers had popped any bigger, they’d have smacked the girl in the chin. “You know about Coinworld?”

  “My uncle said you knew.”

  “He did? Why? How would he know?”

  “I told you. He has a garden. A magical garden full of coins. Coins from Coinworld!”

  “Wow. I knew they lived somewhere!”

  “Dummy, they live everywhere!”

  “Well, yeah, but…so you think all coins are alive too?”

  Fiona nodded.

  “But how do you know?” Adam asked.

  Fiona turned away and looked thoughtfully across the floor of the coin fair. “I can’t explain it.” She turned back to the boy. “How do you know?”

  “My dad told me.”

  “And you believe everything your dad tells you?”

  “Mostly, sure. He’s my dad, and he’s really smart. He’s a PhD.”

  “Fine, he’s smart. I’ll take your word for it. But, come on. Coinworld? Really?”

  “I-I…”

  Fiona leaned closer. “You what?”

  The girl smelled like strawberries. Adam swallowed hard. “You have to swear you won’t tell anyone. Not even your uncle.”

  “I promise,” she said.

  “Swear.”

  Fiona held up her right pinky. “I swear.”

  Adam stared into the girl’s eyes and then at her finger. He nodded and wrapped his pinky with hers.

  “I’ve seen them,” he said. “I saw a half dollar with a live eagle on its reverse side fly through my house. The eagle was holding a nickel in its claws. I tried to catch them but they were too quick. At one point, they flew right up to my face. The nickel looked me straight in the eyes. My dad was there too. He saw. He’s seen them a few times. I’m not lying, Fiona.”

  “I believe you.”

  “You’ve seen them too?!”

  “Not like that, but yeah, I’ve seen a couple of things that made no sense.”

  “Is that why you’re here?” Adam asked. “To find answers?”

  “I guess. I just want to learn more, that’s all. You?”

  “Same.”

  Fiona blew a sigh of relief, and then mussed Adam’s floppy hair. “I was worried I was going crazy,” she said with a smile.

  “You’re not crazy. You’ve—”

  “Entered Coinworld?”

  Adam nodded.

  “So what do we do?” she asked.

  “Do?”

  “You’re the brain. What does it all mean?”

  Adam was about to remind her again that he was only nine, but this time he caught himself. “I’d like to see your uncle’s garden,” he answered.

  “Oh, I don’t think my uncle… He’s a very private person. And besides, you made me swear not to tell anyone, not even him.”

  “You’re right. I…I forgot.”

  “Let me think about it,” Fiona said. “Maybe I can find a way. My uncle goes on a lot of business trips. Maybe—”

  Just then something caught Adam’s eye. He pointed at Fiona’s skirt.

  From atop a box-shaped EXIT sign at the far end of the convention floor, Nicolai Nickel concluded the latest update from his field commanders. He ordered Dirk Dime to smother his torch and then looked out over the bustling coin show below. Troubled by this latest update, he muttered bitterly, “What is he up to?”

  “Maybe The Four has reconsidered,” Dirk hazarded. “Maybe he got wind of the size of our forces, and has decided to scrap the mission.”

  “After all this trouble?” Nicolai said. “I can’t believe it. Besides, we know where he’s hiding. He’s been spotted twice just outside in the hall. He and his half dollar rolled out from under the poker machine they’re hiding under early this morning. We spied them flying over to a vending machine at the end of the hall. We know he met with Iron Tail there.”

  “Were our coins sure it was The Four?” Dominique asked.

  “The nickel’s reverse side was tucked up beneath the half dollar, but the dates on their obverse sides were recognizable. Scouts confirmed the coins’ dates—’38 nickel and ’21 Walking Liberty half dollar.”

  “That’s her, all right,” Dominique said.

  Dirk Dime said, “There’s still time, Six. The show doesn’t end for another three hours. Doesn’t it make sense that they’d wait until the crowd thins?”

  “Sure, but no movement
, no nothing?” Nicolai gritted his teeth and began to pace rolling back and forth along the EXIT sign.

  “That’s not entirely the case,” Dominique reminded him. “What Damian told us has played out exactly as he said. He said that coins would be making a final pass early this morning to ensure that the vents were open. We observed them doing that. We even saw a team of Standing Liberties widening the slats of the one above the booth with the Peace Dollars. Also, our scouts saw Coin Island eagle squadrons re-station on a rooftop across the street.”

  “Then why are they all hunkered down in defensive positions? We’ve pulled back our forces to allow them easy access and they haven’t taken advantage of the new battlefield.”

  “Perhaps they know it’s a trap, Nicolai,” Dominique said. “Wouldn’t you have shown the same caution?”

  “Of course I thought of that, but it doesn’t explain their actions. The only way in without our spotting them is the vents. If they’d have given up on that plan, we’d have seen them move into new positions no matter what their back-up plan was. Also, we have coins hiding inside the ventilation shafts keeping an eye on The Four’s team there. Inside he has an eagle squadron that is to escort him to safety. They performed another practice run just fifteen minutes ago. If the coins were pulling back, our guys would have reported so. All indications are that The Four is sticking to the original plan. What could they be planning?!”

  Hoping to change the subject and divert The Six’s mind from something Dominique decided was out of their will, she pointed her torch towards the young couple below.

  “It looks like the blue-eyed ones are becoming fast friends,” she said.

  Nicolai stopped his pacing and glanced down towards the young couple.

  “How can you tell?” Nicolai asked. “The boy is beat red and as nervous as a chipmunk. And it looks to me like she’s mocking him.”

  “I may be a coin, Nicolai, but I’m still a woman.”

  “I’d like to know what they’re talking about, but I can’t hear anything over this din.”

  “By the excitement in their eyes, I’d say they’re talking about us.”

  “Coinworld? They’re kids. They could be talking about their favorite ice cream or TV show for all we know.”

  “They could, but they are at a coin show standing in front of a table with some of the rarest Peace Dollars in the country. As you like to say, dear one, there are no coincidences.”

  “What’s he pointing at?” Nicolai said.

  Dominique squinted, and then leapt from atop the EXIT sign and took flight. Erica Eagle spread her wings and swooped down.

  “Dirk,” Nicolai ordered. “Flame!”

  Dirk Dime fired up his torch and turned it to The Six.

  “All teams to their stations!” Nicolai commanded into the flame. “The Four’s making his move!”

  Earlier that afternoon…

  Donovan Dime snuffed his torch and Harper Half Dollar turned to the others beneath the poker machine.

  “That was Darla. The eagles have landed. Operation Jackpot is a go. We need one hour.”

  The coins bucked out to the edge of the machine and scanned the feet parading past.

  Harper glanced towards the far end of the hall and saw a group exit the elevator. He sized them up and turned to Camille Quarter.

  “Felt fedora and the girl in the blue skirt.”

  “I see them,” Camille said.

  She took off rolling, and moments later her eagle Esmeralda gained flight. They circled back, plucked up Norton and Nathan Nickels, and keeping close to the wall, skimmed across the wide, carpeted hall towards the elevator. After passing unnoticed by the group of people heading towards the coin show, they curved back around and came up behind them.

  “Good luck, guys,” Camille said. “Remember, the Peace Dollars are at the far end of the room.”

  “Roger that,” Nathan said.

  “Norton, you’re first.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Camille and Esmeralda swooped upwards upon the two people bringing up the rear of the group. They flew over the man’s head and deposited Norton inside the indented crown of his hat. Then, without losing a beat of her wings, Esmeralda dove and dropped Nathan Nickel into the pleated pocket of the girl’s skirt.

  Oblivious that they were bearing two 1938 nickels on their persons, the man and girl proceeded down the hall and into the coin show.

  Camille waited back until the coast was clear, and then she zipped down the hall to grab up Harper and Donovan Dime. Aware that The Six would have scouts posted all about the room, the three coins hit the ground rolling. They swung right at the show’s entrance and quickly took cover between the folds of an unused blue felt tablecloth behind the first numismatist’s booth.

  The man and girl spent the next hour going from table to table together, perusing the many different coins, the girl firing off questions to every numismatist she met. Since most of the attendees were middle-aged or older, the collectors were delighted to share their accumulated knowledge with the pretty girl. It wasn’t often that someone of her age took such an interest in coins.

  Because the man was tall, and his hat added another few inches of height, Norton Nickel could scan the show with little chance of being spotted. Unfortunately, the man was a slow mover and tended to linger studiously at every booth he stood before. Norton feared it could be hours before he made it towards the back of the room, if he got there at all.

  Nathan Nickel, on the other hand, was riding blind. Inside the pleated pocket of the girl’s navy-blue skirt he couldn’t see a thing and had to rely entirely on sound.

  Norton and Nathan’s mission was not complicated. All either had to do was pass himself off as The Four so that the others on the team could run out the clock. As long as the enemy believed that The Four was making a play for his precious Peace Dollar, Ned would be free to attempt his real mission.

  Nathan heard the girl tell her uncle that she was going to wander around a bit, and strolled off.

  Only after a boy approached and struck up a conversation with her did Nathan know she was standing right in front of the table with the Peace Dollars.

  Fearful that she was about to leave, Nathan decided it was time to make his move. He knew it could be the last move he ever made, but he had volunteered for the mission, and he wasn’t about to let down The Four and the rest of the team.

  Had the pocket been deep and baggy, getting out would have been nearly impossible. Luckily, however, it was only three inches deep and cut snugly with the neatly ironed skirt.

  Nathan slowly edged his way upwards employing vertical bucking, similar to how a man might ascend a crevice pushing with his legs on one wall with his back and arms pressing against the other.

  He peeked his eye over the top of the pocket to survey his surroundings. He had hoped that the girl was standing in front of the numismatist’s table so that he’d have a short and soundless drop, but she and the boy had moved a few feet away and were facing one another.

  Realizing that this was the closest he might get to his objective, Nathan decided he had to make his move.

  He waggled up the rest of the way and stood poised atop the edge of the pocket like an Acapulco cliff diver. He looked down at the shifting feet below and said a prayer. Just as he was about to launch himself into the dangerous sea of shuffling shoes, the girl shrieked in surprise and brushed him off like an ugly bug.

  20

  nickel pickle

  Adam clamped his hand on Fiona’s mouth and cut her scream to a muffled shriek. They saw the coin sail from her pocket and smack into the back of a large man in a corduroy coat. The man felt nothing and no one noticed the coin drop to the ground.

  The children turned back to one another wide-eyed, and then looked about to see how much attention Fiona’s shriek had drawn. To their relief, only one person had heard her over the show’s hubbub. The man shot them a scolding look of annoyance, and then looked away.

  “Did you
see that?” Fiona said in a hushed roar.

  “A nickel,” Adam said. “We have to find it!”

  Adam dropped to his hands and knees and began searching for the coin. He didn’t get a good look at it, but could it have been the same amazing nickel he had seen months back? Imagine the look on his father’s face if he returned to him holding his prized 4¢ nickel!

  Fiona, who wasn’t about to humiliate herself by crawling around like a dog, prowled the floor with her eyes. Thinking it might have gone rolling, she widened the search area and inspected every tile.

  Nathan Nickel hit the floor flat-faced and bounced right onto his rim. Surrounded by pairs of legs shambling back and forth, he ricocheted between their shoes like a pinball. He dodged two pairs of sneakers, was smacked skidding by the toe of a leather dress shoe, and then the heel of a three-hundred-pound man in work boots dropped on him like an anvil.

  Nathan sat smothered under the boot for a full minute before the man stepped away. The nickel gasped for air like a drowning man, rimmed-up, and shot rolling underneath the table. He saw a chair and a pair of outstretched legs and knew they had to belong to the numismatist. His goal was to reach the Peace Dollars, and there was only one way up.

  He sped towards the man’s shoe and flipped onto its toe cap. After hopping across the laces, he jumped onto the narrow bridge of the man’s outstretched legs. Because of the 45º angle and the slickness of the man’s linen-like trousers, as well as lacking the reeded edges of other coins, Nathan flopped onto his back and began to inch his way up the man’s leg buck by careful buck.

  A flap of confusion caught Nathan’s attention. He paused and glanced behind. To his surprise, he saw the boy on hands and knees scouring the floor for him. Thanks to the numismatist’s ash-colored slacks, the boy hadn’t spotted him yet. Nathan gulped and bucked faster, hoping that his movement wouldn’t alert the owner of the leg he was crawling up.

  “Boy, what are you doing down there?” a gruff voice demanded.

  “I dropped something!” Adam called back.

  Adam ignored the ruckus he had caused and continued his search. He wondered how fast the nickel could move on ground. His father had told him that they were “little speed demons,” and surprisingly nimble.