Gwendy's Button Box

3

When she comes back from her run up the Suicide Stairs on Monday, the lever by the red button dispenses a small chocolate kitty. She tries the other lever, not really expecting anything, but the slot opens, the shelf comes out, and on it is another 1891 silver dollar with nary a mark or a scratch on either side, the kind of coin she will come to know as uncirculated. Gwendy huffs on it, misting the features of Anna Willess Williams, then rubs the long-gone Philadelphia matron bright again on her shirt. Now she has two silver dollars, and if Mr. Farris was right about their worth, it’s almost enough money for a year’s tuition at the University of Maine. Good thing college is years away, because how could a twelve-year-old kid sell such valuable coins? Think of the questions they would raise!

Think of the questions the box would raise!

She touches the buttons again, one by one, avoiding the horrid black one but this time lingering on the red one, the tip of her finger circling around and around, feeling the oddest combination of distress and sensuous pleasure. At last she slides the button box back into its bag, stashes it, and bikes to Olive’s house. They make strawberry turnovers under the watchful eye of Olive’s mom, then go upstairs and put on Olive’s records again. The door opens and Olive’s mom comes in, but not to tell them they must lower the volume, as both girls expected. No, she wants to dance, too. It’s fun. The three of them dance around and laugh like crazy, and when Gwendy goes home, she eats a big meal.

No seconds, though.