((No sex, sorry, guys))
7.
Nettie's mother studied the gold piece. She had finally sat down - she had heard that her mother's grave had been defaced and was beside herself with anger. I didn't have the heart to tell her that her mother was part of the walking dead.
"I have no idea," she said, handing it back to me.
"What's this about family gold, ma?" Nettie asked.
She scoffed, "No such thing. Where did you get that idea?"
"I remember gramma telling something about that -"
"She was full of stories, you know that. Saying her father was in the Civil War or some stupid idea like that." Nettie's mother looked at me. "She was always out for attention. Wanted to be keeper of the family history."
"Was she?" I asked.
She shrugged. "Births, deaths, marriages, photo albums, that kind of thing."
"Do you have anything of hers?"
"Some things," she said. "It's in the cellar..."
For the next four hours, we searched in a damp, musky cellar for a set of sodden cardboard boxes which had been set there for years. At least now Nettie and her mother were talking to each other, as we plowed through the boxes, looking for anything that might have to do with gold.
Then I found a small candy box and opened it. Inside were three blocks of jet. I knew the mineral when I saw it. I studied them closely, and brought them out to the light. One was shaped like the gold crystal. The other one was a blob, and the final one looked like it had a carving on it. I studied it, and couldn't make head or tails of it.
