Treasures

treasures


Everyone has treasures put away. I still have some of my early-childhood books, and a big box of (mostly Canadian) pennies. Total worth: not much, really.

 

 

But I have a little box in which I keep my real treasures.

 

 

One is a stone I found when I was maybe six years old. It’s a perfect spiral made of quartz, and I knew even then that it was extraordinary. I know now that it’s a real fossil: some casting from a long-dead creature that burrowed in the mud. All of my uncles collected rocks, and I accused them (at the age of six!) of planting it so that I could find it, and they all denied it. I think, after all these years, I believe them, because in the rain and mud of Washington state, how could they have planted it and been sure that I’d find it?

 

 

Another is a cheap plastic coin I got in a bag of Fritos sometime in the early 1960s. They were doing a space-exploration series; I think I had John Glenn and Alan Shepard too. But I really only liked Laika the Russian space dog. Poor little thing: shot into space, and never seen again. I still have her coin, and I still remember her.

 

 

Also a little plastic Bible, about the size of a raisin. If you look into the little lens on the bottom, you can read the Lord’s Prayer. Miraculous!

 

 

Also a plastic cigarette, actual size. The filter comes off, and it’s a pen.

 

 

All these stupid little things were precious to me in my childhood. I’ve managed to hang onto them for fifty years!

 

 

And, at least once a year, I get out the box and check to make sure they’re all still there.

 

 

Because they are still precious to me.


 

About Loren Williams
Gay, partnered, living in Providence, working at a local university. Loves: books, movies, TV. Comments and recriminations can be sent to futureworld@cox.net.

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