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

by Benjamin Laskin

  “Coins have a purpose? Other than for purchasing things? A purpose of their very own?”

  “Why not? Every living creature has a purpose of some kind or another. From an animal’s most basic instincts of caring for its young to mankind’s dream of going to the moon, every living thing in the world strives forward with some purpose in mind. A healthy purpose makes for a meaningful life. It’s only we humans that are too often confused about the subject, I’m afraid.”

  Fiona thought of her father whose own deterioration seemed to coincide with the failure of his business, and who now got by on the good will of Uncle Harold.

  “Do you think the coins are planning something?” Fiona asked.

  “I know they are.”

  “How could you know such a thing? Do you converse with them? Do they talk to you?”

  “Our interactions are very limited, and they don’t include conversations. I assume they hear me, but I have never heard a peep out of them.”

  “Then how do you know?”

  “Because every now and then they seem to have some sort of business around the country, as do most of my own companies. Are you following, Fiona?”

  “I-I…no, I’m afraid I’m not, Uncle.”

  He smiled. “That’s okay. Even for me it’s almost too fantastic to mention, but the little rascals like to taxi about with me.”

  “You chauffeur them around the country?!”

  “In a manner of speaking, yes. On more than a few occasions I’ve caught the little rascals sneaking into my luggage or that of an employee. They make their way in and out on their own, and I never worry one way or the other about them. Very capable and self-reliant buggers, like I said. If I happen to spot one, I just smile and go about my business.”

  “Why, Uncle Harold, that’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever heard! It’s all so, so incredible.”

  “They are a joy, yes.”

  “Where do you think they’re going? And what do you think they do when they arrive?”

  “I haven’t a clue, nor do I much care. Do I like people minding my business? That’s why I live where I do! Away from people, and away from all their snooping. And perhaps that’s why the coins chose me and my garden too.”

  Fiona scanned the premises, half-expecting to see an army of coins surge out to greet her, but she saw none. Just the Peace Dollar sitting dormant on her little throne.

  The girl knelt beside the coin and gently lifted it from its cushion. She held it aloft and gave it an examining eye, but knowing nothing about coins other than how many might be required to purchase this or that item, its embossments meant little to her.

  “Hello, madam,” she said, and then giggled and looked up at her uncle.

  He smiled fondly at her.

  “Were you always interested in coins, Uncle?”

  “Money, yes, and the making of it. Guilty as charged!” He laughed. “But coin collecting, no. After I stumbled across these marvelous specimens in my garden I developed a keen interest in coins, but not in collecting them.”

  “Why not?”

  “No need. They come to me!”

  “Maybe I should take up the hobby,” she posed.

  “It’s a fine idea, Fiona. You know, now and then I sneak out to a coin show or expo if there’s one not too far away. Would you like to go with your crazy Uncle Harold?”

  “I’d love to!” Fiona looked down at the Peace Dollar, and then gazed sheepishly up at her uncle. “And I’m sorry about calling you eccentric. I was only teasing.”

  “I took it as a compliment, sweetie. Don’t you fret.”

  Fiona returned the Peace Dollar to its pedestal, stood, and pulled the small black sling purse she wore around her shoulder in front of her. She unsnapped the bag, reached in with dainty fingers and withdrew a shiny quarter.

  She studied its front and back and pronounced, “1963.”

  “Ninety percent silver too,” her uncle said with authority, “though with the current economy, inflation, and other forces at work, I think Mr. Washington’s silver days are numbered. The fellow will soon be minted with a cheaper metal. Copper and nickel, I suspect.”

  “What does all that mean?”

  “It means that even Coinworld is susceptible to the laws of economics, the whims of know-nothing politicians, and those who influence their decisions.”

  Fiona stared at her uncle with blank, innocent eyes. An hour ago a quarter was just a quarter, and four of them together made a dollar, which could still buy a lot of spiffy items at the Woolworth store. Now they were something else entirely.

  “Are all coins a part of Coinworld?” she asked, her eyes returning to the quarter between her thumb and forefinger.

  “If you mean, can they all move about on their own and hop rides with your luggage, no they can’t. If they could, imagine the chaos they’d cause! Coins flopping and flipping, flying and frolicking!” He laughed at the image.

  Picturing the goofy sight such a scene would make, Fiona giggled along with him.

  “No,” he continued, “I think these rascals are special. I have read newspaper stories now and then about bizarre occurrences involving coins, but the freakish incidents are usually reasoned away. I think the explanations are stranger than the reports themselves, but I’m content with my private speculations.”

  “Well,” Fiona said, “I’m going to set Mr. Washington right over here in the shade of this little lemon tree, and the next time I’m here I’m going to see if he is too!”

  She stepped to the edge of the path and set the coin on the ground.

  “Whether it is there or not won’t prove anything, you know,” her uncle gently reminded her.

  “I know,” Fiona replied with a shrug. “I just want to.”

  The girl kissed the tip of her finger and touched George Washington’s nose. She giggled and rejoined her uncle, who put his arm around her shoulder.

  Fiona glanced back at the quarter and gave the coin a little wave goodbye.

  “When can I visit again, Uncle Harold?”

  “You are always welcome, but it is up to your father. He knows he has an open invitation.”

  “I think he’s a little embarrassed to come. When he’s here he’s even more quiet and sullen than usual.”

  Mr. Auden nodded regrettably. “I wish there was more I could do for him, but it’s up to your father to accept my advice and assistance. Unfortunately, your Uncle Harold isn’t the most patient and understanding of men either, and just as stubborn.”

  Fiona shook her head. “I don’t see it,” she said, censure in her voice. “You’ve never been anything but kind and generous to me, Uncle.”

  “You are your own person, Fiona” he replied, “as we all are. And as we grow, as we age, we accumulate a lot of history. Yours and mine together has been brief, but thankfully very happy. Who wouldn’t wish for every relationship to continue happily forever?”

  Fiona slipped from her uncle’s arm and grabbed his hand. She looked searchingly into his eyes.

  “But surely ours will always be happy, Uncle. Why wouldn’t it?”

  “Of course, Fiona. You are my little Peace Dollar, and I will guard our friendship like these little coins seem to guard their princess.”

  Fiona glanced towards the brilliant coin and smiled.

  “Nothing will separate us,” he reiterated, “but not all relationships are the same, and each has its challenges. We all hope that our history with one another is good and worth cherishing, but life is long, and with life’s many challenges mistakes are inevitably made. From these errors in judgment arise regrets, and sometimes resentments too.”

  “But not with you and me,” Fiona insisted.

  Her uncle smiled warmly and his eyes moistened with the girl’s display of affection. A childless widower, the girl was the only living person who ever saw past his wealth and renown, and to whom he could give the key to his heart.

  In an attempt to conceal his sentimentality and prevent his niece from thinkin
g him the weepy old man he feared he had become, Mr. Auden turned towards the golf course and looked upon it as upon an important question.

  “Don’t you worry your pretty head,” he said. “As to this little matter of spending more time together, I have a few ideas.”

  “I’m listening,” she said eagerly.

  “For instance, back at the house you mentioned a school project that one of your teachers assigned to you over the summer. Something about putting together a business plan for a fictitious company?”

  Fiona’s eyes lit up. “Oh, Uncle Harold, you’d help me with that?”

  “Who better than I?”

  “No one, but I was too shy to ask you. I know how busy you are.”

  “Pshaw. And we needn’t trouble your parents with the drive. I will send Jonah to fetch you. You pick the day of the week.”

  “If it’s a Saturday I could spend the weekend and we could talk all things coin too! I mean,” she looked at the ground, and then up at her uncle, “unless that’s a little too much…”

  “It’s perfect,” he said. “Coins and commerce, business and bullion. The perfect match for the perfect weekend.”

  He was smiling at Fiona when behind her in the distance he saw a golf cart pull up and two golfers get out, sparking another idea.

  “And while you’re discussing the plan with your parents, remind your father, who loves few things more than golf, that there are some minor tournaments coming up here, and that in February is the San Diego Open. I have a VIP pass for them all, of course. The Open also just so happens to coincide with a major coin expo in Reno that I’d like to take you to.” He winked.

  Fiona smiled and shook a naughty-naughty finger at him. “You are sly, Uncle,” she said, returning his wink. “I’m beginning to wonder if your eccentricity is just a cover for your craftiness.”

  “I assure you I’m not that clever. Now, come. Lunch is ready and your folks are waiting.”

  Fiona shot a parting glance toward the quarter, and together the two strolled arm-in-arm back towards the house.

  Fiona’s quarter whistled and called out, “Anyone here? Yoo-hoo, can anyone hear me?”

  He waited, but the only thing he heard was a golfer somewhere in the distance shouting, “Fore!”

  “Aw, man,” the quarter grumbled. “Doesn’t this beat everything? Where the heck am I and what was that girl thinking?”

  “Psst.”

  “Huh?” the quarter said. The voice sounded close, but looking about he saw no one, just some fallen leaves. “Who’s there?”

  “Shh,” Pete said. “It’s okay. You’ll have plenty of company soon enough.”

  “What are you talking about, and why are we whispering?”

  “I can’t explain now and we have to be going. I just didn’t want you to worry.”

  “Wheatman,” Lenny said. “I hear bucking. Let’s get the heck out of here.”

  “Holy smokes!” the quarter exclaimed. “What is going on?”

  Across the path he saw emerge a gang of coins, and amidst them a big, black, horned beetle dragging a sled made from a piece of Styrofoam.

  “What is this place, and what was in that girl’s kiss?” He looked about him again for the source of the two voices he had heard. “Fellas,” he said nervously, “what’s going on?”

  He received no reply, but what he saw next mystified him as much as the approaching team of coins and their lumbering beetle. He squinted at two leaves that appeared to be crawling away under their own volition. The quarter stared agape at the leaves as they disappeared beneath a rose bush.

  The coins, mostly pennies and nickels, surrounded the quarter as the beetle tugged the Styrofoam sled to a halt in front of him.

  A ’62 nickel bucked up beside the quarter and whirled up onto its rim. “Relax, Mac,” the nickel said. “We’re taking you for a little ride.” He nodded to two pennies lying face-up behind the quarter.

  The pennies bucked up to the quarter and together shoved him onto the sled.

  “Who…who are you,” the frightened quarter stuttered, “and where are you taking me?”

  “Coin Castle Reeducation Camp,” the nickel answered.

  The quarter stared at him with a bulging eye and a wordless mouth that opened and closed like a clam.

  “Don’t worry, pal,” the nickel said. “It’s not as bad as it sounds.” He clicked his gums and winked. “And you can thank me later.”

  The nickel rolled around to the front of the sled and led the team away down the garden path. The other coins followed rolling behind. Atop the sled quivered one nervous and bewildered quarter.

  12

  double vision

  July 1964 — Coin Island

  Hannah Half Dollar and Ned Nickel landed on the Coin Island airstrip and bucked off to the side to make way for the squadron of quarters that escorted them there.

  Ned was thanking the quarters when Chief Iron Tail, Brave Two Loons, Leo Lincoln, and Deirdre Dime rolled up to greet them.

  “What’s up with the escort, Chief?” Ned asked. “Is it really necessary?”

  The chief tossed an indicating glance towards Deirdre.

  “We’re not taking any chances,” she said, not the least sorry. “We know The Six is sniffing at your tail-side.”

  “How did you two get here so fast anyway?” the chief asked. “We weren’t expecting you for a week.”

  “Up, up and away with TWA,” Hannah sang. “First class too.”

  “You took a plane?” Deirdre said. “I’m not sure I approve.”

  “It’s actually safer than flying such distances ourselves,” Ned said.

  “And a lot less wear and tear on poor Emma,” Hannah added.

  Emma Eagle spread her wings as if to accentuate the point.

  “Where did you get the idea?” Deirdre asked.

  “From you.”

  “I never suggested such a thing.”

  “No, but you mentioned in a recent report that you suspected that The Six was using airlines to cover great distances. If it’s good enough for The Six, it’s good enough for The Four,” Hannah answered.

  “Yeah, well The Six clearly has connections and you don’t,” Deirdre said.

  “We had two connections,” Ned said with a smile. “Dallas and D.C.”

  “Hah, hah,” Deirdre said, unamused. “Flying on a plane is dangerous. If you’re spotted there’s nowhere to escape to.”

  “Relax,” Ned said. “There are plenty of places to safely stow away. The trickiest part is navigating the airports and getting to our gate on time.”

  “Next time could you at least call in on the CBS and let us know your plans?”

  “Deirdre,” the chief said, “don’t be such a worry wart. The Four is right. We’re too big and spread out now. If we can take advantage of human aviation then we should.”

  Deirdre harrumphed. “So now I suppose you want me to create a data base of airlines and flights we can hitch rides on, huh?”

  “I’m not clever enough to come up with such a stroke of genius,” the chief replied. “Get on it.”

  “Right, like I could do anything in that cave of mine. It’s been three months since that crazy dog demolished my office. I’m still conducting my business on Coin Beach.”

  Aware of it or not, Deirdre was glowering at Two Loons when she spoke. The nickel brave, who was very protective of the Coin Corps of Engineers and other departments he oversaw, became defensive.

  “You’re not the only coin on the island who suffered at the paws of Canine Khan,” he said.

  Leo Lincoln said, “We’re working on it, Director, but we’re short of materials. Not only that, we’ve lost three beetles so far this summer.”

  “What happened to them?” Hannah asked with a frown. She liked the lumbering, slow-witted beasts and thought of them as pets.

  “We lost one to a crow, a sea monster snuck up and snatched another while working on repairs on the eastern wall, and a boulder the dog had loosened on
Mount Cashmore crushed the third.”

  Hannah gasped. “That’s awful!”

  “Yeah,” Leo said, saddened by the memory, “poor Bailey Beetle. Dumb as dirt but a gentle giant. He was one of the first beetles I ever trained.” Leo looked away to cover a sniffle. “I miss the big fella.”

  Cody Quarter, who was part of The Four’s escort, rolled up to the others. He had overheard Leo’s lament and nodded in commiseration. Except for the dung the beetles left about, they were popular creatures and a constant source of amusement for the coins.

  “Why didn’t you tell me any of this?” Deirdre said, offended no one had approached her about the situation. “I’d have ordered a team of hunters to fetch you some new beetles. And as for construction materials, what about our scavenging crews?”

  “You’ve been busy with Operation Jackpot,” Two Loons said. “We didn’t want to bother you. It’s nothing we can’t handle.”

  Leo Lincoln said, “We brought in five new beetles from the other side of the lake last week, but I’m still training them.”

  “And the scavenging corps?” Deirdre said.

  “Around the clock,” Two Loons answered, “but half of what they tote in is useless. “String, ribbons, shards of plastic and glass we have plenty. What we could really use is some solid construction materials. We’re mining the island for rocks, but either they’re too big and heavy for even the beetles to move, or require a lot of hammering and chipping. Very time-consuming.”

  Ned glanced at Deirdre and arched an eyebrow. Turning to Two Loons and Leo Lincoln he said, “Maybe we should divert some of our Raiders from safes to toy boxes.”

  Cody Quarter laughed. “Toy boxes? Are G.I. Joe’s animating now?” he joked. “Imagine the heavy lifting those guys could do! ‘Course, it could get a little crowded around here with those big boys stomping about!”

  “Yeah,” Leo mocked, “and then we’d have to bring in Barbie dolls for the GI’s, and the next thing you know we’ll be spending half our time breaking up fights over them! And say, while we’re at it, maybe we can import some Tonka Toys, or better yet, a train set!”