“Changed things? How?”
“Well, it made a lot of people sick. The radiation gave them cancers and tumors. A lot of people died.”
“Didn’t they know that would happen?”
“They probably did, but they didn’t care. They thought testing the bombs was more important. And they were testing what the radiation fallout would do, too.”
“And they let them do that?”
“Well, not everyone,” Marty said. “There were protesters, but they were considered fringe elements. The government lied and said there was no risk, but of course there was. Radiation causes damage to people, and to things in the River. And it lasts a long time, it takes many years for its effects to completely go away. For human beings and animals, most of the impact seems to have gone. But in the River, it really fucked things up, and… excuse me. I meant to say ‘screwed things up.’”
Winn snickered. Marty was so conscientious about swearing in front of him. If he could hear my mother, Winn thought.
“The radiation turned some creatures into other things, made them change. Some of the changes didn’t matter much. But other changes made things worse. Ghosts, for example.”
“Ghosts?” Winn asked, becoming concerned.
“Well, a normal ghost behaves a certain way,” Marty said. “After you figure them out, you can kind of predict what they might do. Some ghosts can be very unpredictable, mind you. But most of them like to follow patterns. You said you saw a priest in the cave, when you were in the River?”
“Yeah. He was praying, I think. He spoke in Spanish.”
“Any chance you remember what he said?”
Winn was used to hearing Spanish all the time – in Tucson you heard it as much as English. And while he wasn’t fluent in it, he knew several words.
“He said something like, ‘Padre Kino dios,’ and then, ‘Protejas tu siervo, sanes mis heridas.’”
“Was he bleeding?” Marty asked.
“Yes, he had a cut on his leg. What was he saying?”
“You’re right, he was praying,” Marty replied. “His name was Father Kino, and he was asking for protection from God. And for his wounds to be healed. He’s probably been praying in that cave for years. Maybe hundreds of years.”
“Oh,” Winn said, turning the inert coin over and over in his fingers. “And the guy with the mountain lion? He was a ghost, too?”
“Well,” Marty said, “kind of. He was something much worse than a ghost.”
“Worse?” Winn said, looking up at Marty from the coin. He looked worried.
“A lot worse,” Marty said. “Remember what I said about the radiation? He’s a result of that. I hope you never run into him again. He’s very dangerous. Promise me you’ll stay out of that cave.”
“I promise,” Winn said, frightened, but intrigued. “But what about the coin?”
“So it was in your pocket when you came out?” Marty asked. “And you’re sure it was not in your pocket when you went in?”
“I’m pretty sure,” Winn said. “And it was different. It had powers.”
“What kind of powers?”
“It made you feel different, when you touched it.”
“Different how?”
“Well,” Winn thought. He wasn’t sure how to express it. “It made something in your stomach get really warm, and then it went up into your chest and out your head. And it made you feel really happy.”
“Oh,” Marty said, a little surprised.
“And if you stopped touching it, and you touched it again, it made the feelings come back. I was up in the treehouse, doing it over and over, and I lost the nickel. I sat it down and it rolled off somehow. When I has holding it, I went into the River, and I saw that it was glowing. So I figured I could find it under the tree by looking for the glow. But I couldn’t. I searched just now and I still can’t find it. I think someone else found it and took it. I’m sure it was worth a lot.”
Marty perked up. “I know a way we can find it!” he said, and stood up, smiling at him. “Come with me, young man! We shall try to locate this mysterious nickel of yours!”
Winn left the can of lemonade on the table and tucked the nickel into his pocket. He followed Marty out the front door and through the yard as he walked back to his shed, located behind the trailer. Marty pulled a keychain that was attached to his belt, and fiddled with the keys until he located a small padlock key. He inserted it in the padlock and turned until it clicked, then he removed the padlock from the aluminum doors and slid them open.
Winn had seen Marty’s shed many times. It had a wooden workbench and a brown pegboard above it with every tool imaginable neatly arranged, hanging from hooks. There were little white outlines around each tool, so when you took one off, you knew exactly where it was supposed to go when you were done. Marty had two large red and black tool chests that were on rollers, tucked against one wall, and opposite was a set of metal shelving that held large boxes. There was a single bulb light hanging in the middle of the shed, but with the doors open there was more than enough light. Marty walked to one of the boxes, pulled it off the shelf, and sat it down on the wooden bench.
“OK, I haven’t used this in years, so I hope it still works,” he said, rummaging through the box.
“What is it?” Winn asked, excited to see what Marty was talking about.
“This!” Marty said, pulling out a piece of round metal and showing it to Winn. Then he kept searching in the box.
“What is this?” Winn asked, turning the metal disc over in his hand.
“It’s a metal detector,” Marty said, pulling out two long poles. “It goes on the end of these.” Marty snapped the metal poles together, and then slipped the disc onto the end of it. “Now to find the electronics.”
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 mone
y 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!”
Chapter Six
“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.
The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) Page 5