Pops

“We have to go Dev!” I plead from downstairs. I listen for our son’s begrudging footsteps while I adjust my tie, printed with a clever looking owl. But he’s ignoring me as usual.

I poke my head into the kitchen, where my husband is kicking back with his morning coffee. “Jacob, can you tell our son that he cannot keep making me late for class. It doesn’t look good when the students arrive before the teacher.”

“Dev, get your angsty ass down those stairs or we’re not going fishing tomorrow. Listen to your fathers!” my far more respected half yells. Schhhh schhhhh schhhh. There’s the sound of Dev’s trademark dragging feet. Somehow he even manages to drag them down the stairs.

“You don’t have time to eat breakfast now,” I whine.

“I’m not hungry,” he says cooly.

"It’s the most important meal of the day, Dev.” It comes out more didactic than I intended. He’s never gonna let that slide. I know our son.

“Okily-dokily-doo Tim,” he patronizes in his Ned Flanders voice, “Greeeeaaaat tie by the way!”

“It’s Dad,” I remind him, trying to hide my hurt.

“That would get confusing around here, wouldn’t it.” I feel my face get red. “Bye Dad!” he calls out to my husband and drags his feet to the car.

Jacob joins me by the door. “Bye Dev!” he booms.

“It’s just a phase,” he reassures me. He gives me a kiss and a pat on the butt and whispers, “I think the tie is cute.”

“We’re dissecting owl pellets today,” I say a little defensively.

The car horn blares from the driveway. “When does he get his license?” I feign.

Jacob scratches apologetically at his scruff. “16.”

“Praise the Queen, 6 more years of this.”

I pull over a block from school to let Dev out. This is his newest snub since the school year started, so his friends don’t see him arrive with me.

I put on a smile. “See you in - ” The door slams.

<*^*>

I jog through the halls of North Bellingham Elementary School, carrying today’s lesson in a big brown box. I straighten myself up before entering my classroom. My son, along with the rest of my students quiet down as I enter. “Good Morning fellow excavationists,” I chirp, catching my breathe. “Sorry for my tardiness,” I stall, “car trouble. But I’m going to make it up to you with todays project! Who can guess what we’re doing? I’ll give you a hint.” I flash my owl adorned tie at 23 pairs of eye balls. Dev hangs his head.

“Dissecting owl turds?” our class comedian shouts.

“That’s close, Geffen. Today we are dissecting owl pellets. They’re puke, not poop.” I hold one up, getting a collective ewwww from the class. I begin passing them out, one on each desk, along with a pair of tweezers.

“These were regurgitated (another collective eeeew) by Barn Owls, also known as Common Owls. Inside you will find the undigested bones of their last meal. Unless you get an exceptionally good hunter, or hungry one…” I hold for a laugh. Silence. I press on. “Then you may find his last few meals.” This garners a few cooools. I take a little pride in this.

I place a pellet on Dev’s desk. He doesn’t look up. Bardot, Dev’s best friend, smiles at me with a compassion that you don’t see in kids her age. She smacks Dev’s desk. “Wake up!” she snaps and snatches his pellet playfully. I let them squabble over it.

Back in the front of class, I throw my hands up. “Dig in!”

The pellets are always a crowd pleaser. I know because for once, it’s quiet. The kids engross themselves in excavating the tiny bones and gluing the skeletons back together into a macabre afterlife on grey construction paper.

Later, I have them show off their archaeological findings one by one. When it gets to Dev, he barely has anything glued to his paper. “I didn’t finish,” he mumbles. I bite my lip, worried I’m becoming a distraction.

The bell rings. Most of the kids leave their hard work behind. Their boney papers glide to the floor as they hurry on to the next thing. I crouch down to pick them up, still very much stuck on the same thing.

<*^*>

I ride home alone. Dev likes to walk back with Bardot. She always looks at me with these sympathetic eyes that make me feel naked.

I hang my keys on a hook inside the house and follow the smell of brisket and carrots into the kitchen. I find Jacob over the stove. No one wears a cooking apron better than that man.

“How was pellet day?” he asks over his shoulder. “Still have an appetite?”

“It was a hit. Except with Dev, of course. He probably would have loved it if literally anyone else was teaching the class.”

“I’ll talk to him on our fishing trip tomorrow…unless you wanna come with us?”

“And ruin his day,” I laugh bitterly. “I think he gets enough of me Monday through Friday.”

We hear the front door close. “Hey Dad!” Dev calls from the other room, “smells good!”

For an instant, I’m livid with jealousy. I know Jacob saw it, but he doesn’t say anything.

After dinner, I retire to my office to grade some papers. I hear Dev’s shuffling feet approach. I snap around like a rubber band. He never comes in here.

“Tim,” he says, almost having to clear my name out of his throat.

“What’s wrong Dev?”

“I didn’t finish dissecting my owl pellet today because I found something…weird inside.” He comes closer and holds the pellet out to me.

I hold the pellet under my lamp. Something twinkles at me, golden. I pick at it with a paper clip, nudging it to the surface of the coarse, fuzzy ball. It pops out, airborne. Dev smacks his palms together, like a Venus flytrap. He opens his palms carefully, as if the thing could fly away.

A piece of unrefined GOLD, the size of an eraser head gleams in his palm.

“Praise the queen,” I remark.

Dev’s voice cracks, “Are we rich?”

“We’d need a lot more of those to be rich these days.”

“Where did you get the owl pellets from? Maybe there’s more,” Dev implores with dollar signs in his eyes.

“I order them from a farm up north. But an owl could have picked it up from anywhere.”

“Owls don’t hunt more than a few miles from their nest,” Dev recites.

“You did some homework,” I say keenly.

“We should go check it out. What if there’s more just sitting there and no one’s found it yet?”

“You’re going fishing with your dad tomorrow,” I remind him.

“He said we could go next weekend.”

“You talked to him already?” I say, intrigued.

“Yeah, so what,” Dev says cooly.

I don’t give it a second thought. “We could take a road trip. Wouldn’t take more than a few hours.”

“Ok,” he says. And up he goes to bed, just like that.

I try to get back to grading papers, but I’m too excited about Dev choosing a day with me over Jacob.

In bed, I show Jacob our regurgitated treasure. “What else could it be?” he attests. “The earth turns with every earthquake. It’s not unthinkable that some ore makes its way to the surface.”

“You’re not disappointed about the fishing trip?”

“Hell no babe, this is way more exciting,” Jacob rallies.

“Wanna come?” I offer modestly, hoping he declines.

“Naaah, I’m going fishing,” he says with a sly crinkle in the corner of his mouth.

<*^*>

Dev and I pull up to the farm gates. We spent most of the trip up hatching our plan. I haven’t been this happy since my wedding day.

“Welcome!” a bearded man in a straw hat boasts. His face looks aged, but his body is quite athletic. “I’m Henry…or the owl guy as some call me. But I prefer Henry.”

“I’m Tim. It’s nice to finally meet the man who’s been supplying me with owl pellets for the last 5 years. It’s a big hit in my class.”

“It’s nice to be appreciated,” Henry tips his hat, “especially by the kids. No bullshit with young folk.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” I chuckle nervously, pointing my thumb at Dev. “This is my son, Devon. He was so intrigued by the whole process, he asked if we could take a trip out and see where it all happens. Maybe find a pellet or two on our own.”

“I gotta niece at your school,” Henry brags, “smart little thing called Bardot.”

Dev’s eyes go wide, “She’s my best friend!”

“Then you’ve been out-smarted by her before,” the ageless farmer goads.

“Nah,” Dev says cooly.

Henry gives us a quick tour. “Now, I don’t expect a couple of newbies to find anything their first time out. Takes practice training your eyes to find the little suckers.”

“We’re fully resigned to the fact that we may be going home empty handed,” I assure him. “It’s the journey, not the destination.” It comes out more didactic than I intended. I side-eye Dev. To my surprise, he lets it slide.

“Yeah Mr Henry, we just want to have fun looking,” Dev agrees.

“Well, have at it then. It’s all yours, up to the stream. After that, you’ll be trespassing on my neighbor’s land and he doesn’t leave home without his rifle,” Henry warns, more matter of fact than I’m comfortable with.

We set off, walking side by side, pointing at things, not wanting to look in too much of a hurry. Once we’re out of sight, we pick up the pace, scouring for something shiny.

“Lets go to the stream” Dev pushes,“that’s where they find gold in those old movies.”

“I don’t want to over step our welcome,” I protest, “I couldn’t tell if he was serious about his neighbor’s rifle.” I can see Dev’s disappointment. “We can go up to it, but we’re not getting in.”

“Yes!” Dev rejoices. I take a little pride in this. He starts running ahead. I try to keep up.

Dev reaches the stream before me. He’s already ankle deep. “Wait Dev! We had a deal!”

He ignores me, digging through the rocks along the shore. My eyes scan frantically for a man aiming a rifle.

“Over there Tim! There’s something shiny in the water. I think it’s the rich stuff!” Dev hollers.

“Hold it! I’ll go,” I insist. I wade in up to my waist, searching for some refracted light.

“Right there, you’re stepping on it!” Dev yells, grabbing his head.

I move my foot. “I see it!” I yell back, with a smile you don’t see on men my age. I scoop it out with both hands and hold them up in the air for Dev to see. He jumps up and down.

I drag myself back to shore. Just as I make it onto land, I hear a CRACK CRACK, like a rifle cocking! I jump onto Dev, trying to flatten my body against him, like a rat squeezing under a door.

We turn our faces slowly towards the sky. A branch falls from behind a magnificent, white barn owl. It swoops right over us with its mighty wingspan. We look at each other and bust out into laughter.

We say our soaking wet goodbyes as quick as we can, then recount the days “near death” experience on the ride home and make plans for the gold. Dev’s going to get a state of the art fishing pole, the ones that go for a couple thousand. And I’m going to splurge on a high tech science project for class. We agree to get a little trinket for Jacob as well. I promise Dev we’ll take our loot into a pawn shop first thing in the morning.

<*^*>

Dev and I get to the pawn shop not a minute after 10, right when they open. We practically skip inside and present the shop owner, a bulgy, bug-eyed woman, with 2 pockets worth of gold clusters. She scrutinizes a piece under her jewelers magnifying glass, while Dev and I wait with bated breath.

She puts down her monocle. “I’ll give ya a couple bucks. More than it’s worth. They’d look pretty in Willy’s fish bowl.” She nods towards a sad little goldfish hovering under his castle.

We look at her puzzled. “You must be madder than the Queen,” I gape.

“The only way these brass pebbles would be of any value is if the Queen herself used em to huck at idiots passing by,” the shop owner guffaws. She lets me compare a gold ring and our brass pebble under her monocle. “You can’t hustle a hustler,” she says proudly.

“I assure you, the only thing we’re guilty of is ignorance about the difference of - ”

“We’ll take the 2 dollars,” Dev interjects.

One the way home we stop for a couple .99 soft serves.

“Not as exciting as a new fishing pole,” I sulk.

“It’s ok Pops,” he says cooly, “it was fun anyway.”

If someone took my temperature in that moment, they would have told me I was more frozen than my ice cream. Huh, Pops…makes me sound kinda hip.

“It was,” I say cooly.

“Bardot’s gonna die when she hears about it.”

Bardot, I think.

<*^*>

I ask Jacob to bring Dev to school on Monday, so I can go early before the kids get there. I get into my classroom and walk straight over to Bardot’s desk. I reach my hand into the shelf underneath and pull out a bag of brass pebbles.

“That girl, I shake my head, smiling,“How did she…?”

There she goes again, making me feel as naked as a newborn. And I’ve never felt more alive.