Pennies From Heaven

A loved one feels very near in this touching short story by Jacqui Cooper.

nervously and his voice dropped to a whisper.

“Because I saw a pirate in this very street on my way to work the other day.” Jack’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really,” Dad replied solemnly.

Jack was obsessed with pirates and treasure. His favourite film was “The Goonies”.

In the film a bunch of kids found an old map and went looking for pirate treasure, while the baddies chased them and tried to reach the hoard first.

Every week, after their walk, Jack and his dad would go to the video shop while Mum was making tea.

If “The Goonies” was on the shelf, Jack would beg and his dad would groan but, more often than not, Jack would carry it home triumphantly.

When Mum saw it she’d roll her eyes at Dad, but they would all curl up on the sofa together and watch it before bed.

Now, Dad bent down and plucked the penny from the puddle.

He wiped it on his sleeve. “Don’t you dare give that to the boy,” Mum warned. “He’ll get germs.”

Dad just grinned.

“See a penny, pick it up, and all that day you’ll have good luck,” he chanted.

“It’s a pin,” Mum said. “What is?”

“It’s a pin that brings good luck. Not a penny.”

“What’s lucky about a pin?” Dad asked innocently, then dodged when Mum tried to prod him with her rolled umbrella.

He turned back to Jack. “Here, son. Keep this safe.” He winked. “The thing about pirate treasure is it doesn’t look like much, but when you find some, it grows and grows.”

“Does it?” Jack took the penny, which still looked ordinary to him. “How?”

“No-one knows. It’s magic.”

Jack closed his hand around the coin.

“What if the pirate comes looking for it?” he asked anxiously.

“He’ll look in all the puddles first, won’t he?” Dad pointed out. “And he’ll get his feet wet and catch a cold.

“Trust me, there’s nothing worse than a pirate with a cold. Aye-aye . . . achoo, me hearties!,” he said, making Jack giggle.

So they took the penny home and put it in a jar and, sure enough, his dad was right. It did grow and grow.

Sometimes when

Treasure, Jack’s dad had called it, and maybe he was right . . .

Jack was in bed, he could hear the chink of coins falling into the jar.

Soon there were lots of pennies, and 50 pences, too.

Until, one day, there was enough to buy a Lego pirate ship.

****

Jack was wearing a new suit. He was struggling to act like the grown-up he was supposed to be as he helped his mum into the car the funeral directors had sent for them.

Mum looked pale and

Jack had felt loved and supported every day of his life

lost, and instinctively Jack held her hand – something he hadn’t done since he was ten.

She managed a smile. “You look lovely in that suit. So handsome.”

He tugged uncomfortably at his collar.

“Thanks.”

She turned her head and looked out the window as they were driven through the familiar streets.

“This is the road where you and your dad found the pirate’s treasure,” she said suddenly. “Do you remember?”

How could he forget? He and Dad had sat at the table every night after tea, building that Lego ship.

His father’s patience had been endless, helping with the tricky bits but not taking over, while his mum did her knitting, occasionally adding her tuppence worth to the conversation.

Jack had been thinking about that ship a lot since his dad’s car had gone off the road last month and changed their lives for ever.

“I’ll never forget the look on his face when you sailed that ship from the landing not twenty-four hours after you’d finished it.” The memory brought another weak smile to his mum’s lips.

Jack remembered. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he’d pushed the ship down the stairs, but he’d been distraught when it shattered into a million pieces.

His dad had stared at the wreckage in disbelief and then he’d laughed.

He’d refused point blank to rebuild it, but he’d laughed all the same and hadn’t got mad.

“You were his pride and joy,” Mum said quietly.

Jack looked out the window, unable to speak.

He had felt loved and supported every day of his life.

Hearing stories from his new friends at university, who perhaps hadn’t had the same start in life as him, he had known how lucky he was.

When they reached the church and climbed out of the car, it started to rain, which somehow felt fitting.

Mum took his arm as they walked up the steps to the church.

Suddenly, they both stopped. There, glinting in a puddle, was a penny.

“Treasure,” Mum said quietly.

Jack bent and picked it up.

Wordlessly he wiped it and handed it to his mum.

“Do you think he’s watching us?” she asked, her gaze fixed on the penny. Jack blinked hard. “I know he is.” For the first time in a week his mum’s smile reached her eyes as she slipped the penny into her purse.

****

“I just wish I knew what to do for the best,” Mum said.

Fourteen years had passed. She and Jack were sitting in her garden watching five-year-old Ava playing with her dolls.

“It’s your decision,” Jack said.

He liked Trevor, the new man in his mother’s life.

Mum and Trevor had been neighbours, then friends, for years, but recently something more had started to grow between them.

A few days ago, Trevor had proposed.

What could Jack say? They’d loved his dad, but he knew Mum must be lonely after all these years on her own.

“If only I could find one of your dad’s pennies,” she said. “Just so I know I have his blessing.”

Ever since his father’s funeral, Jack’s mother swore that whenever she had a decision to make or needed an answer to a difficult question, she often found a penny.

It felt like a sign from Jack’s dad that either helped make up her mind, or reassured her that she had made the right choice.

Her purse these days was weighed down with them.

“I know you think it silly,” she continued, “but in those early days I somehow never felt alone.

“I felt your dad was still watching over me just like he always did.”

Jack didn’t find it odd at all. He’d been the one leaving the pennies – in a doorway, by a gate or tucked into a photo album or a drawer.

Over the years he’d left pennies in places he knew his mum would come across them.

When she did, he’d listen to her excited phone call and say nothing.

He fingered the shiny penny in his pocket. All he had to do was drop it and little Ava would find it.

He could sway his Mum’s decision, for or against Trevor.

The gate opened and Trevor called a greeting. Jack saw his mum’s face light up.

When Trevor kissed her cheek, he noticed how they brushed hands briefly, as if needing to prolong the connection.

Jack withdrew his hand from his pocket. The other times he’d left pennies it had been to provide comfort. Nothing lifechanging.

This, though, was not his decision to make.

Ava, hearing Trevor’s voice, came running.

“Well, if it isn’t Princess

Ava,” Trevor said and she laughed.

Trevor pretended to frown.

“What’s that behind your ear, your highness?”

With a flourish he put his hand to Ava’s ear and produced a shiny penny.

Jack and his mother stilled, both staring at Trevor.

“What?” he asked, puzzled. “I found it lying on the path. I had an uncle who used to do that magic trick when I was little.

“Mind you, a penny could actually buy you something from the sweet shop in those days.”

Jack slipped his hand into his pocket to check.

His penny was still there.

He saw his mum look from the penny to Trevor.

Pennies from heaven, she called them.

With a lump in his throat, Jack could well believe she was right.

The End.