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The Wishing Pebble
“And I will get anything I want?”
“Anything you want.”
“And all I have to do is…”
“All you have to do is trust me.”
His red hair and pointy noise reminded me of a fox. I played with the money bag in my hands, thinking over my decision.
“Might I remind you that this is not any stone I hold in my hand. This little rock is a Wishing Stone. It is sacred to the Indians and will get you anything you want. And its only fifty dollars”
I bit my lip. My nickname from my friends was Mrs. Scrooge and I take pride in that. I know I am richer than any of them combined. But, the feeling of mystery gripped me tighter then my reputation could.
“I’ll take it”
“Excellent.” A grin stretched across his face as he placed the stone back in the leather bag. I fished out two twenties and a ten out of my money bag and exchanged them for the stone.
I exited the little wooden shop and strolled down the little side street. New Orleans has always held a place in my heart, especial because it is the home of my grandpoppy. Poppy, even at the age of seventy, was still out and about, spreading his knowledge and happiness around the town. As a self-made millionaire, he taught me everything I know about conserving money. I do not know if he would have approved of the purchase of the rock, but I had a feeling it was worth it.
Since I was young, I could find my Poppy’s house with my eyes closed. I walked the familiar road and turn left, knowing that I was only a mile or so from his house. As I walked, I fished out the pebble from its leather bag and looked it over in my palm. The rock didn’t look like anything special; it was brown, smoothed over and about the size of a watch. It looked like any old stone that would be on the ground. The only unusual thing about it was had a hole straight through the middle.
“You better work,” I said to the stone as if it had ears. Just like the man told me to do, I gripped the stone in my left hand as hard as I could.
“I wish to be rich like my Poppy, I wish to be rich like my Poppy.” I said over and over again. After about a minute of doing this, I stopped and looked at the rock in my hand. I did not feel any different and nothing had changed.
“I knew you were a waste of money,” I threw the stone over my shoulder and walked the rest of the way to my Poppy’s house, excited to see him after five long years.
I soon saw Poppy’s house and memories of happiness and joy flooded back. I sprinted the rest of the way, pushed open the old wooden gate, and soared over the ancient stairs. Out of breath, I stood at his front door and banged the knocker. If would be no more than a minute before I see him. I waited. A minute passed as I stood on the outside of the silent house. Another minute passed and there was not a sound in the house. I knew for a fact he should be here in his house at this time on this day. A knot twisted in my stomach as I clutched the handle and opened the door.
I stepped into the familiar house. A cup of steaming coffee and the morning newspaper was laid out on the coffee table. The radio was on, but the announcer could barely be heard.
“Poppy!” I yelled into the house.
“Poppy?” I yelled louder, dust shaking itself lose from the old rafters.
With the knot in my stomach growing tighter, I tip toed through the dining room and to his bedroom. I walked into the bedroom and looked on the ground. My throated tightened as I saw my Poppy on the ground, curled up in a ball. He was neither moving nor breathing. As soon as my senses came to me, I found a phone and dialed 911
“I am so sorry about your grandfather. He was such a nice man.”
“Thank you,” I would have begun crying, but all my tears were gone.
“I can’t believe he died so young. He was in such good health too. I am surprised that his doctors did not see the kidney stone in his last visit. And did you see how strange that kidney stone was? I have never seen one with a hole in the middle of it.”
“Well, I think it was right you inherited all his fortune. You always do the right thing with money.”