Chapter 3: Homecoming and Hidden Riches

I ran my hand along its brittle trunk, remembering the tire swing Grandpa hung for me. I didn’t have time to get sentimental. I went straight to the main room, where Grandpa said the gold was hidden.

The wooden door was warped, and when I yanked it open, it let out a high, shrill creak. The sound scraped across my nerves.

The sound echoed through the empty house, sending a shiver up my spine. Dust motes danced in the air, swirling in the pale winter light. I hesitated, just for a second.

“Southeast corner, count three rows up from the bottom, seventh brick from the right—the gold is hidden behind it.” Grandpa’s words rang in my head. Was this really happening?

I brushed away cobwebs in the corner and found the spot Grandpa described.

The brick was set in tight and wouldn’t budge. I gritted my teeth, frustrated.

So I used my house key to slowly widen the gap. Bit by bit.

My fingers ached, the cold seeping through my gloves. Half an hour later, when I finally pried the brick loose, I saw a golden, round lump.

It was heavy and warm in my palm, catching the light in a way nothing else could. I turned it over, just to be sure.

Then, using my sleeve as a cushion, I bit into it. Left a clear circle of tooth marks.

Just like Grandpa used to do with coins at the county fair. It was gold! I almost couldn’t believe it.

My hands were shaking.

What Grandpa said in the dream was actually true! Holy crap.

I laughed, half-crying, half-giddy. I opened the calculator app on my phone, and the price of this gold nugget was just enough to buy the car I’d had my eye on. Just enough.

Suddenly, losing my job didn’t hurt so much anymore.

I felt like I’d been given a second chance. Back home, I brought out good whiskey and cigars. I even promised I’d take my parents on a trip and come back with a new car.

The house filled with laughter and the smell of bourbon. My aunt narrowed her eyes, spitting sunflower seed shells everywhere:

“In the whole Carter family, only Eli’s got any promise.” She said it loud enough for the neighbors to hear. Pride, envy—both in her voice. I felt it.

She said it loud enough for the neighbors to hear, her voice dripping with both pride and envy. For a second, I wondered if she meant it.

I drank two rounds with my uncles, and at dawn, I was jolted awake by a loud crash.

The sound rattled the windows, followed by my aunt’s scream:

“The old house collapsed! Somebody’s dead!”

The one who died was my uncle. He’d been digging at the base of the old house’s wall and was crushed.

Neighbors poured out in their pajamas, flashlights bobbing in the dark. The village elders stood not far off with their grandkids, watching the commotion. For a second, everyone just stared.

Dad pulled me home and locked the door behind us.

His face was pale, jaw clenched. “Eli, your uncle must’ve overheard!”

“Overheard what?”

“What else? The gold!”

My mind was foggy. But Dad’s serious face made it all clear.

After my uncles went home last night, I’d shown off the gold to my parents.

I even said it was Grandpa’s inheritance for me.

My uncle had forgotten something and came back again, so he must have heard about the gold in the old house.

He didn’t tell anyone—just went to dig by himself, and that’s how the accident happened.

Thinking of this, I slapped myself in frustration.

The sound echoed in the quiet house. Grandpa had told me in the dream not to tell anyone. I screwed up.

If I hadn’t drunk so much and blabbed, my uncle wouldn’t have had this accident. Damn it.

But now, it was too late for regrets.