closer.
“This one; the Centennial Anniversary of Peace Commemorative. Pure silver, hand-engraved, top quality. They only made four hundred of them, and I didn’t get my order placed in time.”
“It’s pretty. The dove, the rose, the olive branch… It’s a real shame you didn’t get it.”
“Yeah. Now I just hope someone decides to sell theirs on UniNet, and that it doesn’t go for too high. If not, it’s just a coin.”
The fox pulled away, the wheels in his brain turning on overdrive. Something about the description of the coin had struck him has familiar. He scampered back to the hedge and rooted around for a little in the branches, finally pulling out a cloth pouch. He darted into the alley, where he opened the pouch and deposited its contents on the paving stones. Various odds and ends sparkled in the light; old watches, bits of shiny glass, a few children’s toys, and even a faux-diamond necklace.
He rooted around for a few moments before locating the object he was looking for. It was a gleaming silver coin, about an inch in diameter. He lifted it to the light, gazing at the detailed engravings set in the surface. Then he nodded decisively and returned the other things, except for a piece of charcoal and a roll of tape, before closing the pouch and tucking it back into his pocket.
Picking up the still-clean paper plate from earlier, the little fennec scratched at it for a few moments with the charcoal stub, nodding in satisfaction when he had finished. Then he tore off a piece of tape and used it to secure the coin in place. Finally, he carried the plate out to the alley front and laid it down, before scampering back into the shadows to wait…
Matakh had finished breakfast and was washing off his plate, hoping to ease the burden of dishes on his mother. Just as he was finishing up, he happened to glance out the window at the spot where he had left the fox his breakfast. It was gone, along with the juice. All that had been left was the plate, sitting on the paving stones.
“Mom, it looks like that little fox enjoyed our gift. Everything’s gone but the plate.”
His mother looked out of the window and smiled. “That’s good. I’m sure he needed it. The poor thing looked like he hadn’t eaten in days.”
“Well, I’m going to go get the plate. There’s no sense in leaving trash lying around,” Matakh told her. “I’ll be right back.”
Meea jumped up. “Can I come with you?”
Matakh nodded and smiled at his younger sibling. “Sure thing. Let’s go.”
Together they headed out the door, ignoring the loud whoosh as the panels swung open. They had no need for caution any longer.
“You know, that was really nice of you,” Meea remarked, “leaving food out for that fox. I doubt there are many people here who would have done that. Most probably would have just sent him off.”
“Or chased him off,” Matakh responded. “I don’t think there’s much love lost over the Rival War. I know some of my friends aren’t big fans of canines or vulpines. Kind of stupid, really; after all, we started that mess.”
“Some people just love to hate,” Meea replied sadly. “I’ve always thought that Cunia sounded like a wonderful place. I’d like to go there someday.”
“Maybe you will,” Matakh said. “Who knows?”
They were getting close to the paper plate, within a dozen yards, when Matakh saw a sudden gleam on its surface, as though reflected from a pane of glass or a piece of metal. “Mee, do you see that?”
Meea looked to where Matakh was pointing, her eyes quickly picking up on the glimmer. “Yep, sure do. But that’s a paper plate, not glass. There’s nothing that should be shining.”
Matakh nodded. “I know.”
As they got closer, the shining point sharpened and came into focus until they could clearly make out what it was. “A coin!” Matakh cried. “It’s a coin!” He sprinted the last couple yards to the spot and crouched down to examine it. The coin was held in place by a piece of clear tape wrapped around the plate. And as he looked at it in greater detail, he noticed that the markings were strikingly familiar.
“It’s the Centennial Anniversary of Peace Commemorative! I can’t believe it!”
Meea came up beside her brother and peered at the sparkling silver piece. “Hey, you’re right! Well, can you take the tape off?”
Matakh nodded and flipped the plate over to remove the tape, only to find another surprise. There was a message printed in bold letters, which Matakh read aloud. “‘For a special cat and a new friend. Thank you. I hope it’s the right coin. J.’ How about that?”
Meea smiled at him. “It’s proof that doing the right thing often leads to great rewards. In this case, a special coin and a special friend.”
Matakh nodded at her, and then looked back at the message. “‘Thank you,’” he read once more, before turning to the darkness of the alleyway. “You’re welcome!” he called out, though he knew the little fox had probably left already.
But he was wrong. All during the conversation, a pair of large ears had been listening to every word. They twitched at the lion’s final call, taking in the words. And as Matakh and Meea returned to their house, a small form crept through the darkness of the alley. And if one had been able to see, they would have noticed a long, bushy tail wagging happily all the way.
Chapter Two: Clouds Gather
“It’s really amazing, you know,” Matakh told his sister as they walked through the front door. He held up his newest coin, marveling at the elaborate engravings. “The odds of finding this on the street? I can’t even imagine.”
Meea nodded. “Yeah. But it’s like the Bible says; God will reward those who follow in his ways.”
Matakh beamed at his sister and clapped her fondly on the shoulder. “You’re right. You know, I bet I could turn this coin into a real conversation piece. And who knows? We might just see our new foxy friend again. Maybe next time we can actually meet him!”
Meea grinned. “Now that would be awesome. And I’ll bet he’d like that, too. He looks like he could really use some friends, all alone out there.”
Matakh nodded and tossed the Peace Commemorative into the air, the bright glow from the ceiling lights glinting off of its polished surface. As it began a lazy spiral back down, he deftly snatched it from the air and closed his fingers around it, enjoying the feel of the cool metal. “I’m going to go put this up in one of my binders. Don’t want anything to happen to it now.”
Meea nodded. “Good thinking. Race you!”
“You’re on,” Matakh replied, the two of them taking off and bounding up the stairs.
“Careful!” Linalia called up after them, but a bright smile was on her face. Such friendly games were a part of daily life with her children, and seeing them so happy together made her heart swell with motherly joy and pride.
In the end, it was Meea who reached the top first. She turned to her brother with a broad grin on her face. “Beat ya,” she teased, winking
