All That Glitters
We made our way down the steep slope, me and Bernie. That kind of thing is easier for me than for him. Two legs and no tail: how does that work, exactly? Bernie ended up sliding down the last bit on his butt, yelling things like ow and damn. By that time I was on the floor of the tiny box canyon, sniffing my way around the wreckage of the old wooden biplane. I found that glittering gold bar right away, not from the smell – gold isn’t like copper that way – but just by how bright it was. Bernie came over, dusting himself off. The sight of those little dust clouds in the sunlight, kind of beautiful, but this wasn’t the time for lollygagging, whatever that may be. I’ve gotten hold of lollipops on more than one occasion. Very, very interesting. In fact, a lollipop at that moment would have been –
“Chet? What have you got there?” Bernie picked up the gold bar. “Hey, hey.” He hefted it in his hand. I always like it when humans do that hefting thing – it’s one of their best. “Got to weigh four pounds at least. What’s the price of gold these days?”
No clue, but all of a sudden I got this very hopeful feeling inside. That actually happens a lot.
“Down, big guy,” Bernie said.
Glitches at Friends of Chet being sorted out by those who know how. Soon, we hope.
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