Thirty Silver Pieces

A man finds himself the keeper of an important artifact.

I first saw him in August 2001 at my parents cottage in Massachusetts.  He was hiding in the small barn at the back of the property, sitting on the ground, his legs pulled up to his chest.

I had been in the barn putting gas in our lawn mower when I heard him.  He was crying, his face hidden in his hands.

“Hey there, little guy.  What’s wrong?” I said.

He didn’t look up or answer, so I went over to him and reached out to touch him.  When my hand made contact with his shoulder, he disappeared.

Up until that moment, I had never experienced anything that I would classify as supernatural.  I didn’t believe in ghosts.  I didn’t believe in life after death.  Seeing the boy disappear changed all of that though.

I stayed in the barn for some time, calling out to the boy, hoping he would reappear, but he didn’t, and eventually, I returned to the cottage.

I spent a couple of hours cleaning the cottage, then returned to the barn to look for the boy.  I found standing in a corner facing the wall.  I could hear him saying, “Never go into the forest” over and over.

Again, I reached out to touch him, and again he disappeared.  I returned to the cottage for a while, then came back to the barn, but he was nowhere to be found.

Three days passed and I did not see him again.  I had to return to my home in Connecticut, but was tempted to use some vacation days so I could stay and see the boy.  I wanted to talk to him.  I wanted to see his face.  But, I couldn’t spare the time.  I would come up the next weekend and search for him then.

The week passed and I returned to the cottage.  I searched for the boy, but didn’t see him.  On Sunday, I packed up and locked up the cottage.

Before I left, I visited the barn one more time.  He was there, and this time, he was standing in the center of the barn facing me.  He was young, maybe eight or nine.  He had brown hair and dark puffy eyes.  He was looking down.

“Hey there, kiddo,” I said.  “Are you okay?”

He looked up at me.

“What’s your name?” I said.

“Joey,” he said faintly.

“What are you doing here?” I said.

“I’m being punished,” he said.

“For what?”

“I don’t know.  Where is my mom?”

“I don’t know, Joey.  Who is your mom?  What is your last name?” I said.

“Baker.  My mom is Theresa.”

I wondered if he knew he was dead and was tempted to ask, but didn’t want to upset him.  “Where do you live?” I said.

“I don’t know.”

He started crying again and again I reached out to touch him, and again, he disappeared.

I waited around for a while calling out to him, but he did not reappear, so I returned home to Connecticut.

The next weekend, I returned to the cottage.  My first stop was the barn.  He was there, and this time he spoke first.

“I have something for you,” he said.

“What is that?”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out something and tossed it to me.  I caught it and looked at it.  It was a small silver coin, the likes of which I had never seen before.  It had strange markings on it and the head of a man.  It felt heavier than it looked and had rough edges.

“What is this?” I said.

“You need to return it to him,” said Joey.

“To whom?”

He disappeared.  I went down to the cottage and unpacked my computer.  Over the last week I had been searching for Joey Baker on the internet, hoping to find some clue, but had found nothing.  Now, I continued my search.  I looked for articles about his death and I searched for his mother, Theresa.  But, I found nothing.

That day, my neighbor, Phil came over to say hi.  I asked him if he had ever heard of a Joey Baker or Theresa Baker.  He hadn’t.  I was hoping they had been lake residents at some point.  I almost told him about the boy in the barn, but thought he might think I had gone a little soft in the head.

I saw Joey the next day in the barn.  I decided then to ask him about being dead.

“Joey, you’re dead, right?”  I said.

“I don’t know.”

“Where do you go when you disappear?” I said.

“I can take you there,” he said.

“Where?”

“Follow me.”

He led me out of the barn, down my driveway and out onto first street.  We walked toward the main road and stopped about halfway.  There was an overgrown dirt road that went down a steep hill.  I had seen it many times before but had never ventured down it, always thinking it was a spooky place.  He started down that road.  At its end there was an abandoned car, a very old car.  Its windows were shattered.  Joey stood there staring at the car.

I peeked inside and saw a skeleton, that of a child.  It had to be him.  Resting on the skeleton was a small box.  I reached into the car and pulled out the box, opening it and looking inside.  There were more coins like the one Joey had given to me.  There were twenty eight of them.

“What are these?” I said, turning to Joey.  He was gone.

I made my way back to the cottage and got in front of my computer.  I took out one of the coins and looked at it, then started doing searches for coins on my computer.

I figured the coins dated back at least a thousand years, maybe more.  Part of me thought, based on the markings, that these were Roman coins.  So I focused my search on that.  After an hour of noodling around, I found what I was looking for.

They were Antioch tetradrachms.  Pretty valuable.  Where had he come upon these coins?

Remembering the skeleton, I got out my phone and called the police to report the body.

When the police arrived, I took them to the body.  I told them I had been taking a walk and had stumbled across the car.  I made no mention of the boy, thinking they would find the story insane.  Further, I didn’t tell them about the coins.  I’m not sure why.  I guess I felt like the boy wanted me to have them.  After all he had told me to return them to “him,” whoever that might be.   

The next day, there was an article in the paper about the finding of Joey’s body.  I was named in that article.

That same day, I saw Joey again.  This time, he appeared next to me on the couch in my cottage.

“Have you found him yet?” said Joey.

“I don’t know who it is you want me to find.  So, no.  Can you give me a name?” I said.

“I don’t know his name.”

“Where is he?”



“I don’t know.”

“I’m not sure I can help, Joey.  I need to know who it is I’m looking for.”

“He is short and has red hair.  I stole the coins from him.”

“Where did you last see him?” I said.

“Here, only it was different.”

“In this cottage?”

“Yes.”

The cottage was over a hundred years old, and had had multiple owners over the years.  Before coming to my family, it had been owned by a judge.  I couldn’t remember his name.

“Was he a judge?” I said.

“No, but he was a friend of the judge.”

I had something to work with.  “You don’t remember the name of this man?”

“Maybe it was Vernal.  I don’t know.”

“Where did you live?” I said, but he was gone.

I called my parents down in Florida and asked them about the Judge.  Joseph Peterson was his name.  I asked my parents about the Peterson family and how I might reach them.  Needless to say, they wanted to know why I was asking these questions, so I leveled with them.  That’s when my mom dropped the bombshell.  She had seen Joey a number of times when she was a kid.  She had never spoken to him though.

I told my mom everything.

Years ago, there used to be another cottage where the barn stood.  It had burned down back in the fifties.  Then my grandfather had build the barn there.  Back in the day, Judge Peterson had rented out that cottage in the summers.  My mom wondered if this Vernal had rented the cottage from him.

My mom also gave me the name of Judge Peterson’s son, Gregory Peterson.  She told me he was a lawyer and that he might live in Boston if he was still alive.

Three days later, I tracked him down.  He was living in Florida in Fort Meyers.

I called him and told him that I was looking for someone named Vernal that might have stayed in his father’s cottage at some point.

“Old, Vernal?” he laughed.  “I haven’t heard that name in years.  So, how much money does he owe you?”

“He doesn’t owe me money.  I have something that is his,” I said.

“Oh, well, I don’t know, really.  Vernal kind of travelled around, never in the same place for much time.  He would stay in the guest cottage from time to time.  Weird old guy.  Always talking about riders in black and the end of the world.  He was a little touched if you ask me.  Anyway, I seem to recall my father saying he lived in New York, but that was ages ago.  To be honest, he is probably dead, but you never know.”

“How old was he when you knew him?” I said.

“Well, that’s the funny thing.  He claimed to be something like two thousand years old when I knew him, but that’s obviously not right.  Crazy b*****d.”

“Do you know his last name?” I said.

“He didn’t have a last name.  Just Vernal.  At least, that’s what he said.”

“What did he do for a living?” I asked.

“Well, he was really fascinated with coins.  Had a huge collection of them.”

“Tell me, did you know a boy named Joey Baker?” I asked.

“Joey Baker.  He was a regular at my dad’s cottage.  Hung around Vernal quite a bit.  He really loved looking at Vernal’s coin collection, or at least what little of it Vernal would show.  He disappeared when he was nine.  Anyway, he was from the other side of the lake.  Just liked it on our side more I guess.  Strange kid.”

I don’t know what possessed me, but I said, “I’ve been talking to Joey.  He asked me to return some coins to Vernal.”

There was a pause on the line, then, “You know, I have never told anyone this before, but several years after Joey disappeared, I saw him standing on the porch of my father’s cottage, staring out at the lake.  When I went up to talk to him, he disappeared.  So, you say you’ve talked to him?”

“Yes.  That’s why I need to find Vernal.  You don’t think it’s possible that Vernal is behind Joey’s disappearance, do you?” I said.

“No, not Vernal.  I mean, he was a character, no doubt, but I don’t think he could have been responsible for Joey’s disappearance.”

“I found Joey’s body on a dirt road on First Street.  It’s the little dirt road that goes down a steep hill.  At the end of the road I found an abandoned car, and in it was Joey’s body.  Joey led me to the car.  He also gave me the coins I am supposed to return to Vernal.”

“You don’t say.  You know, I know that road.  I always wondered what was down there, but never really had the courage to go down it.”

“I wonder why the police never checked there when they were looking for Joey,” I said, half to myself.

“Oh, Joey was from Springfield.  That’s where he disappeared.  I don’t think anyone ever thought to check the area around the lake for him.  Anyway, if Vernal is around, I’m going to guess he is in New York City.  You know, I wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he was still alive.”

“What does he look like?” I said.

“Well, he’s short, really short, and when I knew him he had bright orange hair.  You know, maybe he is a coin dealer.  It was his passion after all,” he said.

“Thanks, Greg.  I’m gonna get off the line now and do some hunting.  Hopefully, I will be able to find Vernal.”

“Well, if you see him give him my number.  It’d be nice to catch up.”

“I’ll do that.”  I hung up and got onto my computer, running searches for coin dealers named Vernal.  I got a hit.

It was on Fifty eighth and Third in Manhattan.  The place was called Ancient Antiquities.

It was ten AM on Sunday.  I left my house and walked to the train station, where I boarded the 11:02 express.

By one I was at the shop.  I walked in and looked around.  I was surrounded by antiques, ancient antiques by the look of them.  In glass cases I could see hundreds of coins, some of which looked like the ones I had brought with me.

I heard a cough and turned to look.  It was him.  He couldn’t have been higher than four and a half feet, and his hair was flaming orange.  His skin was pale, but not as much as I would have expected for someone with red hair.  He wore wire rimmed glasses that made him look rather bookish.

Not knowing what to say, I said the obvious, as I placed the small box with the coins on the counter, “Joey Baker wants to return these to you.”

He opened the lid of the box and peered in, then immediately shut it.  I could see the shock on his face, and something else, maybe relief.

“So, they found Joey,” he said.

“No.  Well, yes, they found his body, or rather I found it.  He is dead.”

“I see.  How did he die?” said Vernal.

“I haven’t heard, and Joey hasn’t told me.”

He opened the box again and dumped the coins on the counter, then he counted them.

“Twenty-nine.  One is missing.  Tell me, how did you get these coins, again?”

“Well, Joey gave me one in my barn and then he took me to the car where his body was and I found this box with the others in it.”

“I see.  So, maybe the last one is in the car.  You know, you would be doing me a great favor if you could go to the car and see if it is there.  Tell me, where is the car?”

“Near Judge Peterson’s cottage, or what was once his cottage.  Anyway, the police already searched the car.  I don’t know if they found a coin or not, but if it was there, I bet they did.”

“You know, these coins disappeared a couple of months before Joey disappeared.  He was around at the time, hanging out at the cottage.  Strange kid.  There were no other kids around for him to play with.  Anyway, after all these years I never suspected that he might have been the one to take them.  How odd.”

“Well, at least you got twenty-nine of them back.  You could always call the police in Sturbridge and see if they found it, but I don’t know, that might raise suspicions.”

“Indeed it might.  Look, here is my number,” said Vernal, handing me his card.  “Just go look in the car and see if it’s there and if it’s not, maybe you could find a way to ask the police about it.  Just try not to act suspicious.”

Part of me felt like I had done what Joey wanted and thought I was somehow free of a burden, but another part felt like I had to find the last coin.  The other part of me won.

“Well, I’m going up there next weekend.  I’ll see what I can do.”

“That’s good now.  Is there anything else?”

“Well, Gregory Peterson wanted me to say hi for him…”

“Tell him I said hello.  Now, I’m sorry, but I have some things to attend to.”

With that he was off into a back room of the shop.  A little bewildered, I left the shop and made my way back home.  There, I called the Sturbridge Police and gave them some wild story about having a dream about a coin in the back seat of the car Joey’s body was in.  I asked if they had found it.  They had not.  It was four o’clock.

I figured they might follow up on what I had told them, so I got in my car and rushed up to Sturbridge.  There I went directly to the old car and searched it.  There was no coin.  As I got out of the car Joey said, “It’s not there.”

“You mean the last coin,” I said, looking at him.

“Yes.  I gave it away.”

“To whom?”

“A girl.”

“A girl at the cottage?”

“Yes.”

I immediately thought of my mom.  Was there something she hadn’t told me?

“What did this girl look like?” I said.

“I don’t remember.  She was in the barn,” said Joey.

It had to be my mom.  But, why hadn’t she told me?  Perhaps she had forgotten.  But, how could you forget something like that?  Whatever the case, I had to talk to her.

“I gave the coins to Vernal, Joey,” I said.

“I know.  But you have to give him the last one.  Then I will be forgiven.”

“Joey, what you did was wrong, if indeed you stole those coins, but I am sure it has long been forgiven.”

He disappeared.  I rushed up to my car and drove back to Connecticut.  On the drive I called my mom.

“Mom, did the little ghost boy you saw give you a coin?” I said.

“Oh my God, I totally forgot about that.  Yes, he did.  Well, actually, he placed it on the ground in front of him before he disappeared.”

“Mom, I found the owner of that coin and he would like me to return it.”

“I lost it.”

“Where?”

“San Francisco.  Your father and I were on vacation there.  Well, you see, I had gone to a jeweler and had the coin put on my charm bracelet and well, we were on a pier and my bracelet broke and the coin got wedged in a crack.  When I tried to pull it out, it broke off of the bracelet.  You father tried forever to get it out, but couldn’t.  Then we went to go get some pliers, but when we got back with them, we couldn’t find the coin.  I guess someone took it, although I don’t know how.  It was really stuck,” said my mom.

“Do you know what pier you were on?” I said

“No honey, I don’t.”

I thanked my mom, got off the phone and then called Vernal and told him everything.

“So, he really is talking to you?” said Vernal.

“Joey?  Yeah.  He doesn’t think he will be forgiven until I get you the last coin.”

“Forgiven?  Well, you can tell him I forgive him and that I’ll forgive him even more when I get the last coin.  Now, do you think you could go out to San Francisco and retrieve it for me?”

First of all, I was not a rich man.  I counted every penny and did my best to survive on what little I had.  So, going to San Francisco, as much as I wanted to do it, was not an option.

“I can’t afford to go there, and anyway, I’m working straight shifts for the next two weeks, so I couldn’t go out there anyway,” I said.

“Look.  This coin is worth the world to me.  I will admit that.  So, rather than negotiating, I will give you my best offer.  I will pay you one million dollars, two hundred thousand up front if you will get me the coin.”

I asked him to repeat what he had just said, my heart racing.  He repeated it and said, “So, do we have a deal?”

“When can I get the two hundred thousand?”

“Just drop by and I’ll write you a check.  But then you need to find the coin, understood?”

“Absolutely.”  I didn’t ask him if I got to keep the two hundred thousand if I didn’t find the coin.  I just assumed it would be mine.  But, then, what if he had me searching for this thing for the rest of my life?  It was an absurd thought that I dismissed.

The next day, I dropped by his shop and picked up the check.  Then I took it to my bank and deposited it.  Two days later it cleared and I bought a ticket to San Francisco.  I told my boss I had to go to a funeral.

The real trick was going to be finding the right pier.  There were several to choose from.  I had already narrowed things down a bit with the help of the internet.  My likely targets were piers one, three and five.

When I arrived, I rented a car and drove into the city.  There I parked my car near Embarcadero and set off on foot to the piers.

I found the coin on pier five.  Remembering my mother’s story, I had brought pliers with me, so extracting the coin was no problem.  It surprised me after all these years that nobody had ever pulled it out.

As I was leaving the pier, I heard a voice behind me.

“You can’t take it to him,” said a woman’s voice.  I turned and saw a young woman with long brown hair.  She was wearing a blue robe.  She was terribly beautiful, almost difficult to look at.

“Excuse me?” I said.

“He doesn’t deserve it,” she said.

“Who doesn’t deserve it?” I said.  Part of me thought I was talking to a crazy lady, but another part wondered if there wasn’t some truth behind her words.

“I’m sorry, but who are you?” I said.

She disappeared.  Christ, another ghost, I thought.  What was it about me that attracted the attention of ghosts?

I called Vernal as I walked to my car.  To say he was happy was not enough.  He was jubilant.  He even agreed to pay me another million for bringing the coin back safely.  So, I was jubilant too, but I had a warning in my heart, a warning made by the words of that beautiful ghost.

Who was Vernal?  Why did he want these coins?  What would happen if he got all of them?  Was I really wondering that?  It seemed like these coins were tied to something bigger than just the desires of a coin collector.  What were they?

But, I was already in motion.  In a day, I would return the last coin to Vernal.

I needed to talk to Joey.  I needed to talk to that woman.

At the hotel that night, I sat around watching TV.  As I was about to turn in, she appeared in front of my bed.

“He is the betrayer of the almighty.  You must not give it to him.”

“Who is?” I said.

“The betrayer of all that was ever good in this world,” she said.

“Are you talking about Vernal?  The little guy with red hair?  I’ve heard he was pretty decent back in the day.”

“Do not bring it to him or all shall fall.”

She disappeared.  I felt my heart racing.  I had an eight AM flight to New York and Vernal would be waiting for me at the airport with my final check.

So far I had heard two opinions of Vernal.  First, a positive one from Greg Peterson.  Second, the less than stellar review by the ever so beautiful ghost in San Francisco.  I needed Joey’s opinion.

I called the airline and changed my ticket to Boston.  I would go there and rent a car, driving back to the cottage.  Hopefully, I would see Joey.

In the morning I called Vernal and told him I would be delayed a bit.  I had a family issue I had to take care of.  He wasn’t happy, but he accepted it.

A long flight and an hour long drive later, I was at the cottage.  I checked the barn and then the cottage and then went to the abandoned car.  He was sitting in the back seat of the car.

“Joey, I have a question for you,” I said.

He turned to look at me.

“Is Vernal a good man or a bad man?” I said.

“I don’t know,” he said, but there was a lie in his voice.

“Joey, I need to know.  Is he good or bad?”

“He was bad a long time ago, I think.  But now…”  He turned away from me.  “…now I don’t know.  I know you found the last coin.  Are you going to give it to him?”

I didn’t know the answer to that question.  “Maybe,” I said.

“Please give it to him.  I want to leave this place.”

“How do you know you will get to leave if I give it to him?”

He was gone.  I screamed.

The coin was in my pocket.  I could feel it, a heavy weight pulling me down.  I called out to Joey, but he didn’t reappear.

I drove to Connecticut, returned the rental car and took a cab home.  She was in my kitchen, looking as radiant as ever.

“I know, I know.  You don’t want me to give it to him.  He is the great deceiver and all that crap, right?  By the way, what’s your name?” I said.

“I am Mary.  Are you going to give it to him?”

“I don’t know.  How do you know him?”

“I knew him in the beginning,” said Mary.

“Well, you sure have a way of clearing things up for a guy.  Tell me, what will happen if he gets it?” I said.

Of course, she was gone.  Ghosts were terribly unreliable.

What had Vernal done that was so bad?  Even Joey had said he used to be bad.  Used to be.  What if he was good now?  And, why the hell was I so worried about all of this.  I had one point eight million dollars waiting for me on the Upper East Side.  All for a coin.  What harm would giving it to him do?  I made my decision.

In the morning I hopped a train to the city.  There I made my way to Vernal’s little shop.  He was inside standing behind the counter.  When he saw me, a smile appeared on his face.

“Before I give it to you, I have some questions,” I said.

“Really?” he said.

“Who are you?  I have two ghosts telling me you might not be such a good guy, one of whom is telling me not to give the coin to you.”

“Let me guess.  Mary,” said Vernal.  “Look, Mark.  I did what I did long ago, and I think I have done my best to show how sorry I am.  Hell, I tried to kill myself, which, in retrospect, wasn’t the right way to go, but you see, I felt terrible.  I felt like I didn’t deserve to live.  Anyway, I tried to hang myself, but I didn’t die.  Got one hell of a rope burn on my neck that lasted for years, but I didn’t die.  And, you see, I kept not dying, if you take my meaning.  Ages passed and I didn’t find peace.  I begged for forgiveness.  I tried to live a good life.  I tried to do everything he told me I should do.  But, Mary.  She will never forgive me.  And that’s the irony of it all.  She of all people should forgive me.  He was her true love, after all.”

“That’s not clearing it up for me,” I said.  “Who are you?”

He sighed.  “My name is Judas.  Does that clear it up for you?”

My mind wrapped itself around that name.  It was a name I hadn’t heard since I was a child, back in Sunday school.

“Judas?” I said.

“Yes, yes.  Look.  I need the coins.  I need to offer them up for forgiveness, and I would have done just that back in 1939, but they were taken from me.”

I looked around his shop.  There were suits of ancient armor, vases, weapons, a wooden cup on a shelf, and something that looked like a crown of thorns.  Crown of thorns.  I felt myself reeling.

“Is that what I think it is?” I said, pointing to the crown of thorns.

“Yes.  I took it before they buried him.  Had to dress up like a woman so nobody would notice me.  Please give me the coin, Mark.”

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the coin.  I stared at it for some time, a sudden sense of history washing over me.  Thirty silver coins.  That was the price of a life.

“How are you going to offer it up?”  I said.

“At the church, of course,” said Vernal.  “Where else would I do it?”

“That sounds too simple.”

“As many great things are, my son.  Now, see here, I have your check.  Please, take it, and cash it as soon as possible.”  He handed me the check.

“I want to go with you,” I said.  I had to see what would happen.

“As you wish.  Now, the coin.”

I handed Vernal the coin.  Then I folded the check and put it in my pocket.

“Well, there’s no better time than now,” said Vernal.  “The church isn’t far.”  He reached into the counter and pulled out the small wood box, placed the coin inside then came around the corner.

We left the shop and grabbed a cab.  Ten minutes later we were at a cathedral in Harlem.  We went inside.  It was a beautiful church unlike any other I had seen.  Tall stone columns and an arched ceiling.  You could almost feel the presence of God in that vast space.

We approached the altar.  At its base, he told me to wait.  He walked up the stairs and placed the box on the altar.  I could hear him speaking, but could not make out the words.  Then he fell.  I ran up to him and knelt down.  He had an expression of joy on his face.  He was dead.

There were so many questions I had wanted to ask him, but had been too caught up in the moment.  Now, I would never have the answers.  I found one of the priests in a vestibule and brought him to Vernal.  I told the priest my story.  I don’t know if he believed me or not.

After Vernal’s body was taken away, I left the church and went home.  There I sat on my couch for some time, my thoughts all over the place.

Mary appeared.

“Why did you tell me not to give him the coin? Why did you lie to me?” I said.

“He broke my heart.  I could not forgive him.  But, you did forgive him, and I guess that is all that matters,” she said.

“Well, you should forgive him too, you know.  I shouldn’t have to be the one to tell you that,” I said.

“You aren’t the only one to tell me that, child.”

She was gone.

I pulled the check out of my pocket and looked at it.  I wasn’t sure I felt right about cashing it, but figured it hadn’t been given to me for a bad reason, so I left my house and deposited the check.

Two days later the check cleared.  I was worth two million dollars.

The next day, I died.  It was painless and swift.

Now, I am here with Joey at the cottage.  We don’t know if we will ever leave this world and go to a better place, but we are happy to have each other’s company.

I wonder where Vernal is.  It would be nice if he could visit us.  I know he loved the cottage as much as Joey and I do.