Peter and the Silver Coins

One cool, cloudy day I was walking home from school behind a hunched-over, little old lady. She walked slowly and used a cane. On her head she wore a large, orange, floppy hat decorated all over with red maple leaves. I slowed down to stay well back from her because Mama always told me not to walk quickly up to old people as I might scare, or startle, them.

Before my very eyes, coins started falling from the pockets of the hunched-over, little old lady. Lots and lots of silver coins tumbled out.  Like a shiny spring shower they sprinkled onto the sidewalk and glistened in front of me.  There were piles of them.  I’d never seen so many coins; not even when Papa rolled the coins, from our spare change bucket, into thin paper tubes.

The hunched-over, little old lady hobbled along in front of me.  She didn’t seem to notice that her coins were falling onto the sidewalk.  I didn’t think I should call out to her, or run after her, because I didn’t want to startle her.  I stopped, staring at the coins.  They were now right at my feet.  I looked up and the hunched-over, little old lady was turning the corner, heading west at the point at which I had to head east to go home.

I made a snap decision and called, “hey lady! hey lady!", at least a couple of times, as loudly as I could.  I guess she couldn’t hear me because she kept hobbling along.  If I ran after her I might startle her, someone might run away with the coins, and Mama might be angry with me for not coming straight home from school. At the best of times, I wasn’t great at making decisions.  My forehead beaded up with droplets of sweat.  It was a warm day, but not warm enough to be sweating. “Hey, what if she’s poor?” I thought.  What if she lives all alone?  What if that was all of her grocery money for the week – for the month?”  I called out to her one more time, but by then she had completely disappeared from my sight.

I made the only decision I could.  I looked from east to west, I looked from north to south, I looked from south to east, and from north to west.  I turned around and around and scanned the neighbourhood.  I looked behind me, in front of me and on both sides of me.  No one was around.

I bent down, and as quickly as I could, scooped all of those shiny, silver coins into my lunch bucket and knapsack.  I silently thanked myself for having eaten all of my lunch today, which was not usual for me.  What amazing luck! I wanted to skip all the way home even though I was too old for such nonsense.  “Hey, this is my lucky day; this was supposed to happen,” I said to myself.  Wow!”  And the sun burst forth from behind the clouds.

When I arrived home Mama met me at the door and said, “Peter, what took you so long?  Did you have to stay after class?”  I mumbled something, and then the timer rang on the oven, and Mama raced away, muttering something about completely forgetting about the muffins what with the dishwasher leaking all over the kitchen floor, and then her sister phoning and yakking her ear off while the dog tried hard to rip off his flea collar.  “Saved by the muffins”, I thought, and went straight upstairs to my room.

I wanted to count the silver coins right away, but I didn’t dare. It was better to wait until after dark.  I hid my lunch bucket and knapsack on the floor of my closet under some clothes.  I took a shower and put fresh clothes on.  I still felt a little nervous and sweaty.  I played my favourite computer game, Scavengers.  Afterwards, I went downstairs to have dinner with Mama, Papa and our dog, Scuba.  Then I had to go to a Scouts' meeting with Papa.

By the time we arrived home at 8:30, I was itching to escape to my room to count the silver coins without any questions from my parents.  I usually hated to go to bed even when I was sick, or tired.  I often tried every trick I could think of to stay up late.  But tonight, I yawned and yawned and yawned and said that I was tired and needed to go to bed.  Mama looked at Papa.  Papa looked at Mama.  They each shrugged and Mama said, “Peter, are you feeling ill?” I said that I wasn’t, it was just that I was tired from running around playing floor hockey in the gym, and again at recess, and I needed my rest. Papa smiled and said to Mama that I must be maturing.

I went up to my room, got into my red-striped pyjamas, crawled into bed and turned out the light.  Then, I reached into my nightstand for my flashlight.  That’s precisely when panic struck!

Any minute now, Mama was going to be looking for my lunch bucket to repack it for tomorrow!  I did the only thing I could.  I ran to the closet, threw back the clothes I had hidden my bucket under, dumped all the coins into my garbage can, and raced downstairs.  I tried to act cool, but I could feel my armpits getting sweaty again.  My heart was pounding.  “Here’s my lunch pack.  I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you sooner.  I forgot.”  I thought Mama was looking at me a little strangely.  “Peter, why are you acting so strange?” she asked.  “You seem nervous and you’re sweating.  Let me feel your forehead.  Do you have a fever?  Your heart is racing.  I knew you were coming down with something!  You go straight up to bed and I’ll bring the thermometer.”  “No, Mama,” I said a little too hastily.  “I’ll just go lie down on the couch. You can bring the thermometer to me there.”   “Okay,” she said.  “I’ll just be a minute.”  She was back in a flash (she’s no slacker) and stuck that thermometer right under my tongue.  My temperature was normal.  “Hmm,” she said, “it seems fine, let me check it again.”  She did and it was fine.  Mama looked puzzled.  “Off to bed with you,” she said. “Maybe you’re fighting something.  I guess we’ll know by morning.”  As casually as I could, I walked up the stairs to my room.  “Boy, that was close,” I muttered under my breath.

I decided to throw everything from the floor of my closet under my bed.  I grabbed the flashlight, dragged the garbage can into the closet and closed the door of the closet, except for a small crack so I wouldn’t get locked inside.  I reached into the garbage can and let those smooth, silver coins run through my fingers.  Then, aided only by the scant light of the flashlight, I began to count.

I think it took me about an hour.  Most of the silver coins turned out to be nickels and dimes.  After stashing the coins in the old pillowcase I use for collecting candy on Hallowe’en, I crawled into bed.  I stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars on my ceiling and willed myself to dream about all the great things I was going to buy with the silver coins.  The last thing I pictured, before I drifted off to sleep, was the latest version of my favourite computer game, Scavengers.

Suddenly, there was a hand on my shoulder.  It was a police officer.  I could see the officer’s badge shining by the light of the moon.  “You’re under arrest,” she said solemnly.  “For theft!” she added.  I was panicked and looked everywhere for my parents.  I couldn’t see them.  “There must be some misunderstanding!” I wailed.  She shook her head.  Her eyes were black and never blinked. I closed my eyes and fell backwards in my bed just as she reached for the handcuffs.  I could feel the room spinning out of control.  I opened my eyes even though I was afraid to.  There they were, the faces of my parents, and of my teacher, and of the school principal, and of my grandma and grandpa and some hunched-over, little old lady.  They were all leaning over me, wagging their index fingers at me while shaking their heads from side to side. “Tsk, tsk,” they whispered.  Their heads were huge and shaped like strawberries.  They looked super spooky and I thought, “this can’t be happening!”  Then, there was a loud noise like an exploding firecracker, and I woke up.  The bed was soaked with sweat, as were my pyjamas.  It was light outside.  My fate was sealed.  I knew I had to find that hunched-over, little old lady as soon as possible, and return the coins to her.

I dried myself off and got dressed.  I ran straight out of the house with Mama calling after me that I must have breakfast, and where was I going in such a hurry, and what about my lunch.  I ignored her and ran as fast as I could in the direction that the hunched-over, little old lady had gone the day before. West.

I walked while looking around, trying to figure out what type of house a hunched-over, little old lady would live in.  My mind was racing.  I couldn’t think straight.  I was shaking and sweating yet again.  I got to the end of the block and saw a sign.  It read Pine Tree Seniors' Home.  I went inside to the front desk.  I asked the tall, thin, red-haired lady behind the desk if I could look around.  I said that I had a hunch someone I knew lived in this place.  “If you give me the person’s name then maybe I can tell you,” she said.  I said that I just needed to know if a hunched-over, little old lady who wears a large, orange, floppy hat decorated all over with red maple leaves and who walks with a cane lived there.  “Well, young man, you may be in luck.  That sounds like Alice,” she said.  “Wait here, I’ll see if Alice can see you.”  Off she went up a long, winding staircase.

I waited for several minutes, then down the stairs came the tall, thin, red-haired lady.  “Come with me,” she said, and led me up the stairway.  My knees felt weak and wobbly.  My brain felt like it had been invaded by cobwebs.  My throat was parched.  We walked down a wide hallway towards a big, open door.  I willed myself to go through that door.  The room we entered was round, large and had floor to ceiling windows which made it very bright. It was filled with old people reading, playing board games, talking and laughing.  It smelled like a combination of powder and cinnamon.  The old people all stopped what they were doing at precisely the same time just to stare at me.  I felt very small.  My forehead beaded up with sweat.  I felt terribly guilty for having taken the silver coins.  I sat down where I was told to sit. I waited for Alice.

I stared down at a tiny hole in my trousers until I heard someone say in a sweet, soft voice, “I heard you were looking for me.  I’m Alice.”  Tears started to flow down my cheeks.  I poured out the whole story to Alice (except for the part about imagining everything I was going to buy with the silver coins because I didn’t want Alice to think I was a greedy kid).   I said over and over how sorry I was.  I said that I would give her back her money.  “Silly old coat,” was all she said at first.  I knew I should have fixed those pockets years ago.”  Her bright, blue eyes sparkled as they looked straight into mine.  “Thank you, Peter.  I look forward to your visit tomorrow when you shall return my money.”  My voice quivered as I asked, “no hard feelings?”  “No darling, of course not,” replied Alice.  I think your true colours have shone brightly today.”

The next day when I returned to Pine Tree Seniors' Home after school with my pillowcase full of the silver coins, I was told that I couldn’t see Alice as she had taken ill.  I handed the pillowcase to the tall, thin, red-haired lady at the front desk.  I told her to make sure that Alice got all of the money.  The lady said she would.  Just as I was turning to leave, the lady said, “wait a minute, I almost forgot.  Alice gave me this for you.  She had wanted to give it to you herself; but, well, you know why she can’t.”  It was a flat, large package wrapped in plain, shiny red paper.  It had a white ribbon on top tied into a beautiful bow.  I usually didn’t notice this kind of thing, but I had a strange feeling something special was happening that I had better take as much notice of as I could.  I thanked the lady and said that I would open the package at home.  “Bye now,” she said. “Hope to see you again someday.”   “Thanks,” I said, and slowly walked towards home feeling drained of energy.

By this time, I think Mama had given up on me because of all my strange behaviour over the last couple of days.  She didn’t ask me anything when I walked into the house.  She just gave me and my package a quizzical look.  I slowly climbed the stairs to my room.  I decided not to open the package right away and stashed it in the back of my closet.

I went down to dinner.  After dinner I called Mama and Papa into the living room and told them the whole story.  “Wait here for a minute," I said.  I climbed back up the stairs to my bedroom, opened my closet door, reached into the back, and pulled out the red package.  I went back downstairs to my parents and showed them what Alice had given me.  “I guess it’s some kind of reward, or thank-you for returning the silver coins,” Papa said.   “Aren’t you going to open it?” 

I opened the package slowly and carefully, not ripping it open like I usually would.

Inside was the latest version of my favourite computer game, Scavengers.

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Peter and the Silver Coins ("the published story") has been created, written and published solely by the author, Deborah K. Hanula.

All rights reserved. No part of the published story may be reproduced in any manner, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, including but not limited to electronic, mechanical, photocopying, scanning, photographing, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author/publisher, Deborah K. Hanula.