Bobby and his mother started clearing and going through boxes early the following morning. The night he had spent with Amanda netted him a little over $40,000, and his checking account was nearing $75,000. As Sharon sorted keepsakes from trash, he fantasized about buying a car.
His mother was on her knees, thumbing through pictures. She wore loose fitting pajamas that were frayed and going thin from years of use, buttoned all the way to her neck. Bobby didn’t have much to do, apart from getting boxes she was ready to inspect. They did that same routine for hours, until she pointed at the leather duffel bag.
Excitement tripling, Bobby sat it down in front of her with a clink, coins jostling inside. “I forgot how your grandpa collected coins,” his mother muttered, pulling a sack out. “Did he ever teach you anything about them?” Sharon dumped some dimes into her palm.
“No,” Bobby said with a shake of the head. “I know some are valuable though, like silver and stuff.”
Looking up, Sharon gave him a light smile. The bridge of her nose was shiny and beads of sweat gathered where her hair was pulled back. “Maybe we’ll make a few hundred dollars from this endeavor,” his mom said, shaking up the coins she held. She patted the cold cement beside her. “Come here, Bobby, and gorgle how an old woman is supposed to tell if coins are silver.”
He sat, folding his legs, leaving a little empty patch of concrete in front of himself and checked his phone. “It says that quarters and dimes made in the year 1964 and earlier are mostly silver,” he read aloud and whistled. “A single quarter is like twelve bucks.”
“Huh,” she said, holding one of the dime’s up. “What about a dime?” Her voice was conspiratorial, and her gaunt cheek bunched into a grin.
“Five,” he replied and locked his phone, setting it aside. Bobby leaned closer; he could smell last night’s alcohol coming off her neck. “Well, is it silver? I can’t see the date from here.”
Sharon hefted the sack. “It is,” she said, handing the cloth bag to him. “You check these.” Stuffing her arm in the duffle, she grabbed the biggest sack, the quarters, as Bobby dumped the dimes on the floor next to his shins. “Oh, this one’s heavy.”
Bobby tried not to smile like a lunatic and concentrated on his pile, peering at a coin innocently. It was made in the year 1958, and he dropped it into the empty sack before selecting another. His mother copied him, spilling her bag onto the ground and from the corner of his eye, Bobby saw her freeze, bringing a hand to her mouth.
He waited a moment, expecting her to respond immediately, but she stayed quiet. Unable to hold himself back, he looked over. “What is it, Mom?”
His question broke her out of her trance. Sharon’s hand moved slowly away from her mouth, tentatively, as if to avoid scaring the little golden creatures resting in the pile of quarters. They stood out like beacons, bright and gleaming, some small, others quite a bit larger than the quarters. After what seemed like minutes, her hand finally reached one of the ounces, and she plucked it free, causing the surrounding metal to chime and tinkle. “How much is… a gold coin worth, Bobby?” she asked, voice soft as a breeze. You are reading on NovelPing, the official source.
Bobby’s grin refused to remain contained, breaking free and splitting his face in half. “I’ll check,” he said, his excitement acting like proof of the dream in front of her, and she beamed, snatching another gold coin and slapping them together. Heart racing, he looked it up, despite remembering what he had spent on each. When the number appeared, he frowned, they had all overcharged his ass by like four hundred dollars. “$3,527.” He held his phone up to her face, trying to mask his disappointment. Fucking bastards, he thought.
“Oh my god, Bobby!” his mother squealed and frantically spread the pile thin, picking through and grabbing the biggest ones. When finished, she counted the beautiful stack she held. “Fifteen.” Her head quirked to one side. “That has to be close to fifty thousand dollars, not even counting all the small gold and silver.”
They searched through the rest of the cloth sacks, only finding more dimes, some pennies and a bag of nickels. Sharon put all the gold in one of the dime sacks, spinning it as he had done on Saturday with his sock. Without warning, his mother crushed his face into her breast. It wasn’t as soft and pillowy as Megan’s boobs had been, but he enjoyed the affection, nonetheless. She stroked his hair, sniffling. “Oh, Bobby,” she said. “If not for you, I would have never cleaned this place out.”
He gave a muffled chuckle, peering into one of the gaps between buttons on her shirt. Sunspots peppered her skin, accompanied by green and purple veins on her stiff boob. “I’m a good luck charm,” Bobby said.
“You certainly are, honey,” Sharon replied, wiping her nose. Kissed the top of his head. “Do you mind if we postpone our work until next week?”
********
His phone buzzed in chemistry class, and he snuck a peek. A text from Megan. “Hey, virgin,” it read. Gaze flicking to the front of the room, he made sure Mrs. Anderson wasn’t paying attention. She looked like a colorful ex-convict, with tattooed arms and fingers. The woman even had three on her neck, a big butterfly in the middle and a set of cursive writing on either side.
“What are you doing?” he texted back as Alessio bugged his eyes at him. Alessio was incredibly book smart and a loner like Bobby but more shy in general. Alessio was his only real friend, and had long, curly hair down to his shoulders and a tan complexion, with thick eyebrows, and he was skinny as a twig. Bobby thought he looked kind of stupid with the long hair, and had tried convincing him to get a haircut, but apparently, Alessio’s mother had raged at the idea, so Bobby dropped the subject.
Megan replied. “Ugh, our flight was delayed, and we won’t be back till four.”
“You’re leaving me alone in Dubois’ class?” he sent, Alessio reading the text block, and Bobby angled it so Alessio could see better.
“You’ll have to find someone else to feel up until tomorrow,” Megan responded, adding an eggplant emoji.
It took a few minutes, but Megan finally responded, sending him a picture of herself in front of a bathroom mirror with most of her titty exposed. Alessio elbowed him in the ribs. When Bobby looked up, Mrs. Anderson was striding over and snatched his phone before he could lock it.
His teacher frowned at the screen before glaring at Bobby. “After class,” she said coldly. That’s what he got for being blind and having to sit in front—Alessio also refused to sit anywhere else.
When the lunch bell rang, Alessio gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry, I tried to warn you,” Alessio whispered. “My mom made the sub you like, if you’re still alive in a few minutes I’ll split it with you.”
Bobby’s mouth watered. Alessio’s mom sometimes made him vegan Philly cheese steak for lunch, wrapped in foil. It was far better than the rubber in the cafeteria. Bobby liked the woman; he had met her a couple times after going to Alessio’s house for projects. “Hell yeah,” he said.
When the room cleared, Bobby gathered his courage and walked over to Mrs. Anderson. She frightened him and had a gold front tooth. Her eyes were narrowed. “How dare you beg for nudes in my class,” she hissed, slamming a palm on her desk. The sound rebounded off the walls like an enthusiastic clap. He jumped.
“What?” he said, taken aback at the snarl on her face.
“Don’t play the fool, Bobby!” she spat, getting to her feet. “I perused your little text chain, and I recognized the poor girl. I’m good friends with her mother, and she’ll be hearing from me the moment you step out that door.” She pointed with one hand and stabbed him in the chest with his phone. “Go!”
“But I,” Bobby started and grasped his phone.
“Get out of my face,” Mrs. Anderson sneered and leveled a glare at Alessio. “You too!”
Alessio’s eyes bulged, and he frantically gathered his things. “Sorry, Mrs. Anderson.”