“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 the
m 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.
Chapter Seven
With tickets in hand they waited for the first tour to start, sitting on one of a dozen benches arranged around the yard of the estate. It was nearly 10am and already eighty degrees.
“Here’s the plan, OK, kiddo?” Marty said. “We’ll go in separately so people don’t think we’re together. If the tour guide thinks you’re my kid, they’ll wonder why I’m alone at the end of the tour. You stay near the back of the group. If the tour is like the last one I went on, we’ll pass the entrance to the kitchen after the fourth or fifth room. There’s a velvet rope in front of the entrance; they only let people look in, not go in. Once everyone has passed by it and the group has moved into the next room, I’ll ask the tour guide a question, to distract them. You hop that velvet rope when I do, and find a place to hide in the kitchen until you’re sure you’re alone.”
Winn was nearly shaking with excitement. “Then what?” he asked.
“You’ll have about fifteen or twenty minutes until the next group comes along,” Marty said. “It’s not like you need to sit right in the middle of the room to talk to him. Stay in your hiding place and drop into the River, see if you can make contact with him. From what I’ve heard, it shouldn’t be hard.”
“What happens if another tour group comes by?” Winn asked.
“Stay hidden,” Marty said. “Try to find a spot that’s out of sight of the entrance. No one goes into that room. You’ll be fine as long as you can’t be seen from that doorway. And be as quiet as you can.”
“What if a tour guide finds me?” Winn asked, suddenly alarmed.
“That’s easy,” Marty said. “All you need to do is act scared, and say something frightened you, and you were hiding because you didn’t know what else to do. Every tour guide in there knows how haunted the kitchen is, so they won’t be surprised. They’ll just move you along. I’ll wait right here on this bench until you come out.”
“What if they arrest me?”
Marty laughed. “You’re eleven. They’re not going to arrest you. The worst that can happen is they’ll kick you out, or want to call your parents. If it comes to that, tell them I’m your uncle and the one who brought you today, and that we got separated somehow. They won’t do more than return you to me. And if you don’t come out within twenty minutes, I’ll go back in, pretending I’ve lost you.”
Winn sighed.
Marty checked his watch. “Fiv
e minutes,” he said, noticing how nervous Winn looked. “This is kind of exciting, isn’t it?”
“Yeah,” Winn said. “I hope I don’t throw up.”
“Yeah, not that exciting.”
A queue of people began to form at the front door to the mansion, and Marty suggested they get in line. “You queue up first, and I’ll get in line a couple of people behind you.”
“What if they ask where my parents are?” Winn asked.
“Don’t tell them about me unless you get caught and have to. If they ask casually, tell them you’re here on your own, your teacher assigned you to write about the mansion and your parents couldn’t make it.”
“Oh, good idea,” Winn said. He stepped into line behind an elderly woman and her younger daughter. Marty waited until a couple of people had queued up behind Winn, then he got in line, too.
The tour guide was an older man with a moustache. He herded the group of about thirty people into the first room of the house, which was a large entryway with a huge staircase. Once everyone was inside, he began to speak. He used a lot of big words, and Winn found himself tuning out almost immediately. He looked around the entryway at the dark wood paneling and up at a giant chandelier made out of deer horns. He guessed there must be at least two or three hundred dead deer represented in the light fixture. The room was large, and it made him feel a little dizzy. He was used to the confines of his mom’s trailer, and his school. He’d never been in a house as big or as fancy as this.
He searched for Marty and saw him standing at the other end of the group, listening intently to the tour guide speak. He’s playing his part, Winn thought. Got to play mine. Winn turned toward the tour guide and pretended to listen, but after a sentence or two, the big words he didn’t understand made his mind wander. He thought about the kitchen.
The tour guide moved the group into the next room, which he called the study. There were a lot of books on shelves, and plenty of places to sit. Just as Winn was about to plop down on one of the chairs, the tour guide asked that no one touch anything in the room.
The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2) Page 6
