A
fter Camille picked herself off the canyon floor and clambered up the hill and back to camp, she spotted Ned rim-up, encircled by coins firing questions at him. She beelined it over to Ned, and shoving a couple of pennies out of her way, she gave him a rap.
“Again, nickel,” she demanded.
“Aw,” Ned groaned. “Do I have to?”
“Not that, chrome head.” She grinned. “Rim me up.”
Ned smiled in relief. “Back up everyone.” He gave Camille a stomp and set her upright.
Camille wobbled, but she kept her balance. She took a few hesitant rolls forward and then backwards.
“Now you’re a real Standing Liberty quarter,” Pete said.
Inspired by Camille’s gung-ho attitude, the other coins paired off and tried imitating her. Pete and Ned moved between the pairs offering advice and encouragement
.
Chief Iron Tail turned to Two Loons. “I think we have some believers now.”
“So what’s next?”
“We train.”
“Train for what?”
“For saving the world.”
“Universe.”
“Whatever. We have much to do, Two Loons.”
“What else did you learn in your vision?”
The chief looked about and said, “We need to powwow. Is there somewhere less noisy we can go?”
“Come. We go to sacred Coinhenge.”
“Sacred? Everything around here is sacred?”
“Everything sounds better with the word sacred before it, don’t you think?”
The chief shrugged. “If you say so. But I thought you built that oversized sundial because you were bored.”
“We did, but I’ve always kinda hoped that one day we’d find some use for it besides telling what time it is.”
“As long as it’s quiet. Yahla
, let’s go.”
“If we’re going to powwow, shouldn’t The Four be with us?”
“Oh, right.” The chief whistled. “Yo, Four, come over here!”
Ned rolled weaving between the Lincolns and nickel braves and over to Two Loons and the chief. “What’s up, Chief?”
“You, me, and Brave Two Loons are going over to Coinhenge to powwow.”
“Powwow?”
“Indian-speak, Four. We have a lot to discuss.”
“What about Pete?
”
“What about him?” the chief said.
“We’re the three buckaneers, remember?”
“The what?” Two Loons laughed.
“He’s doing a good job teaching the others,” the chief said. “The penny is a natural. We’ll fill him in later.”
“All right,” Ned said. “Let me tell him what we’re up to. I’ll be right back.”
Ned rolled away and Two Loons turned to the chief. “What’s with the penny, anyway?” he asked.
“What do you mean?”
“Look at him.”
The chief glanced at Pete, who was instructing a group of coins in the finer points of standing and balancing. “So?”
“That’s one beat penny. My crusty Lincoln warriors look like Rudolf Valentino next to him. And look, he’s warped. He wobbles when he rolls.”
“So?”
“I’m just wondering how he got roped into this goat rodeo.”
“Long story, but let’s just say he got stuck on us.”
“I can understand you and The Four, and me and my lost tribe of bucking misfits, but the penny—”
“Look, the penny might have a little swerve in his curve, but he’s straight as the day is long. Pete Penny is a clever little coin, and spunky as a monkey. The Great Minter works in mysterious ways, what can I say?”
“I don’t have anything against the penny,” Two Loons said. “He seems like a nice guy, and that he can move like he does in his condition—impressive. I was just wondering aloud.
”
“The Four loves the guy, and that’s good enough for me. He says the penny completes him.”
“Say what?”
“Four cents plus one cent, get it?”
“O…kay.”
Ned rolled up and said, “Ready. I told Pete we’re going off to powwow and will catch him up later. He’s got his work cut out for him over there, but he’s doing a bang-up job. He’s good at explaining things. And that Camille is a sharp quarter. She catches on fast. Okay, let’s go.”
Ned rolled off, but after he had gotten a foot he noticed that the chief and Two Loons were lagging behind. He rolled back to them and flopped onto his backside.
“Chief,” Ned said, “don’t you think it’s time you learned to stand and roll? You too, Brave Two Loons.”
The two Indian nickels exchanged embarrassed, guilty glances.
“Just not in front of the others, okay, Four?” the chief said.
“Yeah,” Two Loons said. “It looks bad.”
Ned laughed. “All right. You guys get private lessons.”
Buffalo snuffled.
“Buffalo too,” the chief added. “He’s going to have teaching of his own to do. Buffalo speaks bison.”
The chief filled in Two Loons on all that the spirits of the Coinim had told him: about the prophesy of The Four, his
destiny, and what he knew about the danger that awaited Coinworld.
He explained what little he knew about materials called plastic and polymers—things no one knew anything about in 1923 when little Hugh had stranded Two Loons and the others on Coin Island. He spoke about cards with numbers, and strings of ones and zeros that seemed to extend into infinity; something they speculated might be some sort of secret code.
Finally—after many interruptions by Two Loons, as was his way—the chief recounted more about what he had seen at Vision Cliff. In addition to the words about eagles, he was told that Coin Island had been created especially for this day, and that from Coin Island The Four would proceed to the next phase of his destiny.
When Chief Iron Tail had finished his story, Two Loons grunted thoughtfully and said, “Laughing Hawk never mentioned this plastic you speak of, or anything about numbers, but he did tell about Roman columns, and the rise of big brick boxes. He said in one of his visions he saw shadowy figures lurking in and around the boxes. Men, or maybe groups of men.”
Ned said, “Brick boxes? Roman columns?”
“Laughing Hawk wasn’t sure what they were.”
“I think I know,” Ned said. “Government offices, mansions, or maybe banks.”
Chief Iron Tail said, “If you’re right, Four, then the shadowy figures could be politicians, captains of industry, or bankers.
”
“Maybe,” Ned said. “Two Loons, do you remember anything else?”
“Laughing Hawk also said Coin Island had some important role to play. But he warned that it would face a great danger in the future, and that we must prepare to defend it. Were you told this, Iron Tail?”
“No, but I saw the island in a future time and it looked different than it does now.”
“How so?”
“Camp Coin was bigger, flatter, and I saw something that looked like a landing strip.”
“An airport? The cockpit of an airplane is bigger than our entire island.”
“Not for people, for us.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Two Loons scoffed. “We couldn’t build a plane. We couldn’t fly a plane. And we have nowhere to go if we could.”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger. I’m telling you what I saw. I also saw a wall made of stones, sticks, and bricks run the perimeter of the island.”
“What do we need a wall for? We’re an island surrounded by a vast sea swimming with sea monsters.”
“Not in winter,” Ned reminded the brave. “I heard the lake freezes over in winter.”
Two Loons took Ned’s comment into consideration and said, “What else did you see?”
“An eternal sacred fire and a sacred reflecting pool.”
“Sacred, you say?
”
Chief Iron Tail grinned. “Must be. You said that everything here is sacred.”
“Where were they?” Two Loons asked.
“Right where we are sitting. Inside Coinhenge.”
“Hah! I knew we built this crazy place for something! The fire and pool is so that we can get visions?”
“Perhaps, but I sensed it was more like a center for long-distance communications.”
“The next world is about as far as you can get, Iron Tail.”
“For this world,” the chief clarified. “I think it was for communicating with other coins.”
Two Loons laughed. “I didn’t know coins of the Lakota Bison Clan had such wild imaginations.”
The chief shot Two Loons a stern eye. “This was the vision, not my imagination. I also saw that Coin Island was bustling with coins, many more than are here now.”
Two Loons’ smirk vanished. The chief’s words had struck a chord with him. He said, “Laughing Hawk also spoke of more coins. Coins of many denominations. And get this, he saw stamped on them dates far into the future.”
Ned said, “Maybe Laughing Hawk was talking about Pete Penny and me. We were minted long after your chief’s vision.”
“No, well, maybe you too, but the dates were much further in the future—the 1960s, 70s, 80s—all the way into the next millennium, as far as 2020.”
“Hmm,” the chief said thoughtfully, “that’s the closest thing we have to a timeline. Four, whatever it is you’re supposed to do, it seems you have about sixty-five years to do it.
”
“Not necessarily, Chief. It could be a warning, or it could also mean that I failed in my mission…whatever the heck it is.”
“You will not fail!” the chief snapped. “Besides, the future is not set in stone. If it were, there would be no point for the visions.” He turned to Two Loons. “Did Laughing Hawk ever mention how long we have?”
“No. He said it would be a long war.”
“War?” Ned gulped. “With the humans? We wouldn’t stand a chance!”
Two Loons shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe.” His eye narrowed. “Why? Are you afraid, Four?”
“I’m a measly nickel, for crying out loud. We’re coins. The humans are giants! One bomb would blow our island to smithereens!”
“Live free or die!” Two Loons exclaimed.
The chief cleared his throat. “Ah, don’t you think we’re getting a little ahead of ourselves here?” He turned to Ned and said out the side of his mouth, “Aside from a habit of interrupting, the Cheyenne Bison Clan are known for their bombast and bravado.”
Two Loons nodded in sheepish agreement, shrugged, and said, “We can’t help it.”
“In any case,” the chief went on, “the picture is coming into focus. We have much to do. We start tomorrow. Four, the first thing you need to—. Yoo-hoo
, Four, what are you looking at?”
“The full moon. It reminds me of Franny.”
“Who’s Franny?” Two Loons asked.
“A 1922 Liberty Peace Dollar,” the chief answered. “The Four can’t stop thinking about her.
”
“I heard of those,” Two Loons said. “Never met one, but I heard they were real lookers.”
“Meh,” the chief said. “Personally, I think Camille is prettier, and she can fight.”
“Nice gams too,” Two Loons said.
“I tried not to notice,” the chief confessed, “but, since you brought ‘em up…”
Ned said, “Franny is my girl and I’m not saving anyone or the world—”
“Universe,” Two Loons interjected.
“Any universe until I save Franny first!”
Two Loons turned to the chief and frowned. “Laughing Hawk never said anything about The Four being a sentimental sap.”
Back at camp, Pete was enjoying himself immensely. He felt as if he had found his calling in teaching. Until now, he had never known much in the way of praise or adulation from his fellow coins, but the coins of Coin Island looked beyond his thrashed, warped appearance and showed him great honor. They admired his cheery attitude and his expertise at locomotion, especially since it was something he had only recently achieved.
“If I can do it, you can do it too,” he promised them. “Think so, believe so, and so it shall be!”
One by one the coins began to achieve verticality, and many were already rolling. A few, like Camille Quarter and Darla Dime—the dime Deirdre had mentioned earlier—were particularly
fast learners. Not only were the crackerjack quarter and dainty dime standing on their own, but within hours they were also rolling with great finesse. Pete recruited them to help him instruct the others.
Every now and then, Darla would slide Pete a shy smile, which confused him considerably. Darla was a beauty of a dime, and with a personality to match.
Pete, however, didn’t want to let his imagination run away with him. After all, if he couldn’t get past hello with Deirdre, why would the winsome Darla be any different? Mercury Dimes were knockouts, but they were also out of his league.
He looked awkwardly away and concentrated on the business at hand. I’m here to help The Four and to save Coinworld, he told himself. Love was for other coinage, not a beat penny.
Pete spotted Leonard Lincoln, the coin who had befriended him during their march, and saw that he was having a tough time keeping upright. Pete rolled over to him.
“Pete,” Leo said, frustrated, “what’s wrong with me? How come I can’t get it? Look, everyone else is at least standing and rocking. Maybe I ought to stick with bucking.”
“Nonsense, Leo. Some coins just need a little longer to get the knack of it.”
Another Lincoln raced by and hooted, “Hey, Leo, look at me! I’m rolling!”
Leo sighed. “Nah, I’m a loser Lincoln…”
“Pshaw, no Lincoln is a loser, Leo. Abraham Lincoln was a great man, one of the greatest of all presidents, and you are imbued with his strength.”
“You can barely recognize him on me,” he muttered
.
“There will be no self-pitying on my watch,” Pete said. “Besides, take a gander at me.” He twirled once around and showed Leo all his battered glory. “You’re twice the penny I am.”
Leo recognized that, but said nothing.
“Look,” Pete continued, “I’m going to share a secret with you that I haven’t told any of the others. It’s something I learned from The Four.”
“I dunno, Pete. I’m not very good at keeping secrets. I’m a coin, and you know how we get.”
“Well, that’s up to you. Above your head in all capital letters is inscribed a powerful message: IN GOD WE TRUST. Would you have been minted with that message if it weren’t important? I say not! With those words on your lips and belief in your heart, you can do anything, Leo.”
“But the buffalo nickels here don’t have those words.”
“You’re right, and I asked Chief Iron Tail about that. He told me that because all Indian nickels are descended from the great Coinim, they already believe it. They don’t need the reminder. Coins like us do. Now, I want you to think on this thing, really think, and keep practicing. I know you can do it, Leo. And with this secret, I believe that soon you will be rolling circles around the others.”
“Okay, Pete.”
“Say it like you mean it, Leo.”
“I’ll do it!”
“Attaboy. Repeat the dictum one hundred times, and I promise that on the hundredth time you will be standing and rolling. One!
”
“In God we trust.”
“Two.”
“In God we trust.”
“Three.”
“In God we trust!”
“Okay! Keep going. I expect to see you roll up to me later.”
“In God we trust…!”
