V For Victory

The stranger only received bills as change. He dug into his pocket for a coin and dropped the only one he had into the tip jar beside the cash register. Thieves stopped people from leaving tips on a table. Kay watched him to see if her extra efforts would pay off. They didn’t. ‘Only one small coin; cheapskate.’ She continued to wait on tables, but much of the enthusiasm had left her face. She smiled at customers, but it wasn’t a warm friendly smile. Being part of the job, she went through the motions automatically.

At the end of her shift, Kay raided the kitchen, so to speak. The owner allows her to take dinner home for Kay and her husband. He wanted to help them, but Kay refused any extra money. She always made the same excuse. “I didn’t earn it, so I don’t deserve it.” Finally, after many attempts by the owner, she broke down and accepted a small token in the form of food. Kay emptied the tip jar into her apron pocket, retrieved her purse and supper, then headed home. She didn’t mind the walk so much in the mornings. The air being crisp and clear helped wake her up. The walk allowed her to sip a cup of coffee on the way to work. Afternoons were different. He feet hurt; her back ached and winter was approaching. She would watch the elite drive by in their fancy limousines and dream of what it’s like to be rich and not be forced to walk to work. Her ability to loose herself in such a manner helped make the trip home a little less painful. Kay had a vivid imagination and would daydream of wonderful places she read about. Sometimes she would build a perfect Utopian society on the trip home. It ended when she stepped up onto their front porch.

“Hi honey.”

“Hey sweetheart. How was your day?”

“About usual. One man came in and I thought he would leave me a good tip, so I put on a smile. I bent over backward for him and the cheapskate only gave me one small coin.” She was moving toward the kitchen as she talked. Sam maneuvered his wheelchair easily and followed her. Kay placed her purse on top of the refrigerator and picked up her numismatic book along with a coin cloth. After sitting the sack containing their supper on the counter and depositing the book on the table, Kay took off the apron and held the contents in her hand. The small amount of change fit easily into one hand.

“Here is how my day went!” She flung the apron at the wall beside their small dining table.

Luckily none of the contents spilled out. Sam maneuvered his wheelchair over and picked up the apron, then lay it on the dinette table. Kay’s husband, glad for her company, overlooked her little show of defiance.

‘Here. Put these on the table.” She handed him two plates and some silverware. Sam set the table, so they could eat their meager meal. The strings of the apron were in the way, so he dumped the contents of the apron onto the table. Kay caught the apron and lay it on the counter.

A prayer, giving thanks for their food was given. They ate in silence, each in their own world. Kay was building another perfect world. Her current world has perfect health in it. She didn’t like to see her husband suffer like he did. Kay loves her husband and only wants better things for his sake. Sam wished he had put on the safety harness like he was told. The School of Hard Knocks doesn’t reward carelessness.

“This pile gets smaller and smaller. It doesn’t seem to matter how hard I try.”

“I know sweetheart. You are doing all you can. If we can just hang on a little longer, I’ll be able to go back to work. I’m sure I’ll find a job doing something.” Sam knew his wife was doing all she could to support them. It was a loosing battle, though. He also knew his good construction job was lost forever. Those two broken legs sealed his fate. He’d never work on a high rise again. To add insult to injury, company lawyers screwed Sam out of any compensation by claiming it was his fault. The small amount of money they managed to squirrel away didn’t last long. Hospital bills, drugs, and everything else drained their bank account quickly.

Sam spotted a dark, old looking coin in the tiny pile of change. After wiping it with Kay’s coin cloth, he read the date, 1913. He turned it over and saw a big V staring back at him. Sam froze! Kay took the coin and started flipping pages in her book. After running her forefinger down a page, she stopped and slowly looked at her husband.

“My God Sam, do you know what this is? Do you know how much it’s worth?”

“A lot, but you don’t understand. My father found that very coin and used it to pay his way...”

Kay was talking over him; repeating out-loud what she was reading.

“There were only five of them made. Four of them are in private collections.”

“I know.”

“ The fifth coin was never found.”

“I know.”

“This has to be the lost, fifth coin.”

“My father found it about seventy years ago. He didn’t know what he had and gave it away. When the cashier at that carnival stopped jumping around and calmed down enough, he told my father it was worth about fifty dollars.” Kay continued reading.

“The last auction was about ten years ago. That one brought three million two hundred fifty thousand dollars.” She shut the book and looked up at her husband again. Sam shut up, leaned over, and kissed his wife. The first time in a month. Even before their lips parted, Sam felt Kay’s tears on his cheeks.

“Why are you crying? I thought you would be overjoyed.”

“I won’t get to walk to work any more.” Sam didn’t understand, but had gotten use to her

strange comments.

Bad pennies have a way of continually showing up. It would seem rare, old nickles have the same habit, precisely when needed most.