OPINION: Sylvia makes discovery by examining gold coins

By Anne Sullivan

The rust-colored oak trees held hands across the road while leaves from the golden aspens sailed down with every breeze while Sylvia and I sat on the front porch bench watching fall happen.
“Those leaves are the very same color as our gold coins.” Sylvia pointed to the aspens shimmering and showing off in the sun.
“I wish you’d think of something other than gold for a change,” I said.
“What’s more important than gold?” Sylvia asked. “Especially after everything we’ve risked and lost.”
“It is a shame about the wagon. I don’t suppose it can be rebuilt.”
Sylvia shook her head sadly. “Totaled. Out of service forever.”
“Speaking of out of service, how’s Gordo?”
“He’s okay physically but he may have Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome.”
“I think he was born with that.”
“Be that as it may,” said Sylvia, “he wants to see a counselor.”
“Now where are we going to find a counselor for a cat?” I complained.
“RingWorm says she’ll do it. With all those white whiskers against her black hair, she appears very wise.”
“I guess she does but does she have the patience to deal with Gordo? A stressed Gordo at that.”
“If not, she’ll just give him one of those evil glares she gives him when he gets too near her food.”
I noticed that Sylvia was somewhat distracted during our conversation as she was fiddling with coins, gold coins, reminding me of old men who jingle coins in their pockets.
“Sylvia, stop that!” I ordered. “You’re completely mesmerized by that gold.”
“Yes, I am. It’s gold. My gold coins. I knew it was there up Swingle Canyon and it WAS there. Of course, we only found ten of these coins. There’s got to be more. If we could only get dependable help, we could dig further down.”
“Maybe you should try some larger animals since the squirrels and the mice haven’t worked out,” I suggested.
“They haven’t worked in either,” Sylvia said as she dropped one of the coins. After she picked it up, she caressed it and examined it closely, holding it up to the sunlight. “That’s funny,” she said.
“What’s funny?”
“There’s a date on this coin.”
“What is it? 1860?” I asked.
“No,” Sylvia said, sounding puzzled. “It’s 2009.”
“Are you sure?”
“Here, you look,” she said, handing the coin to me.
I squinted and looked and could see nothing. “I need a magnifying glass,” I said.
Sylvia banged into the house and returned ten seconds later with one of my many magnifying glasses. I held the magnifying glass up to the coin and squinted. “Sure enough, you’re right. It says 2009.” “How could a 2009 coin have gotten there?” Sylvia asked. “Just where we were digging.”
(How do YOU think it got there? A prize for the first person with the correct answer who writes to: Sylvia, c/o Mountain Mail, P.O. Box 62, Socorro, NM 87801).

OPINION: Sylvia makes discovery by examining gold coins