Otherworld Businessman Chapter 3

 

Chapter 3

Next mission: get a magician’s amulet from the guild. I pulled my wagon through the city streets until I came back to the magician’s guild adjacent to the cathedral. The wagon was too big to pull through the door so I threw a cloth over it and entered the building with a twenty pack of soda.

I approached the counter. An elf with green hair was manning the desk.

“Excuse me,” I said. “Where can I apply for a magician’s amulet?”

“Can you use magic?” said the elf.

I showed her the cola cans. “I am an alchemist and dimensional traveler. This is my product.”

“Yes, I recognize these,” said the elf. “A stranger came in two days ago and sold us forty-eight of these, um, vessels. We managed to find a use for them and they are in fact very valuable.”

“I’m that stranger,” I said. I planted the twenty-four pack on the counter. “I’ll sell you these if I can get a magician’s amulet.”

“Agreed,” said the elf. “There is a twenty gold fee for the amulet, but I’ll subtract it from the exchange for those elixirs.”

“Have you tried them yet?” I said.

“Heavens no,” said the elf. “At three gold apiece I couldn’t even imagine it.”

I handed her a single can. “Drink this. I’ll give it to you free as a mark of goodwill. We’ll probably be working with each other quite a bit. I have many magical items for sale. By the way, do you mind if I get some muscle to help me unload my wagon of magic items?”

“You brought a wagonful with you?” said the elf.

“Indeed,” I said. “I left the wagon outside. You won’t believe what’s in there.”

Five minutes later, the elf and two other guild workers were unloading the wagon. I had bought everything I could think of that a feudal society would find useful. Flashlights and batteries, lighters, plastic utensils and cans of food. The wagon was packed, and it was the size of a rickshaw.

Half an hour later all of my goods were laid out on the floor of the guild, privy to a number of curious onlookers. The elf walked among the items.

“That’s a flashlight,” I said. “It uses these cylinders—“ I held up batteries—”to produce a beam of light.”

I explained the function of all the items whose use was not obvious. They understood the ridiculously precise “craftsmanship” of the glasses and plastic utensils. They also understood the use of the red Solo cups.

The total value came to one thousand, two hundred and fifty gold coins. A veritable fortune, but of course this stuff was worth that in a world where people were still working the fields by hand. I already had enough Earth currency to support me for quite some time on the other end, so I decided to keep this new cash for use within the otherworld.

“You are an incredible mage,” said the elf. She extended her hand. “My name is Tris. Please, continue to patronize us with your magnificent alchemy skills.”

“Aahaha,” I said. “Okay.”

“You’re going to have to give a demonstration of your powers to the council before we assign you a medallion, however,” said Tris.

“Do you mind if I take a day to prepare?” I said.

“You can take a week if needed,” said Tris. “I understand Alchemy requires various ingredients that are quite hard to find.”

“Good,” I said. “Set me up a trial two days from now at sunset.”

Tris nodded and made some notes on a clipboard. “In the meantime,” she said, “I insist that you bring more of these magic items if you can. I do not  know where they come from but they are most certainly useful.”

“Well, I, ah, come from another universe.”

“Quite common,” said Tris. She smiled. “In any case, I wish you well.”

“I need to return to my home to retrieve materials for the trail,” I said, “But I don’t think I’ll be able to enter the city again without proper papers.”

“I’ll issue you a temporary travel permit,” said Tris. “It’s the least I could do.”

Two hours later I was back in my apartment, planning for the test. I understood that it would involve dry ice and liquid nitrogen, as well as helium and a lot of other chemistry. I could freeze a rubber ball and crack it. I could create bubbling potions.

I looked up “cool chemistry experiments” online and picked five to perform.

The list: mix copper and nitric acid; make elephant’s toothpaste; explode sodium in water; make a Lichtenberg figure; and finally, exploding thermite in dry ice.

I procured all the items at the local hardware store. When it was time for me to return, I brought all my materials with me. The temp papers allowed me in the city and I pulled everything to the guild hall.

Tris came out to greet me. “Are you ready?” she said. She led me through the entrance foyer to a meeting hall that looked like a classroom at my college. About a dozen magicians were sitting dispersed around the room.

I suddenly felt very nervous. What if my experiments failed? What if they didn’t work like advertised, or what if I got the mixtures wrong?

I stepped onto stage. “I am going to perform five alchemical spells that each produce a fascinating result,” I said.

I set up the experiment to mix copper and nitric acid. I then mixed the two ingredients to produce a spectacular display of blue and reddish-orange smoke.

“Ooh,” said several of the members of the audience. There was a bit of clapping as well.

“Quite the magic experiment, Mr. Ran,” said one of them, an older man with a mane of grey hair.

I bowed, and then began to set up my elephant’s toothpaste experiment. Elephant’s toothpaste is a mixture of hydrogen peroxide and yeast, colored with food coloring.

It explodes out of the tube it is created in, creating a fountain of foam. It went off without a hitch, and this time the entire audience clapped.

Then it was on to exploding sodium with water. A pretty simple reaction when pure sodium is put into water, this reaction is spectacular and creates violent sputtering flames.

Then I made a Lichtenburg figure with a small electric lighter. A Lichtenberg figure is the tracing of an electric shock within a recording material, leaving behind a beautiful artistic lightning-esque tree.

And, finally, I exploded thermite on some dry ice.

The clapping from the audience was spirited.

“I have never seen such alchemy as this,” said one of the members. “You are the most promising young magician I have ever seen. You have many great things ahead of you.”

“We would be happy to give you the status of magician,” said the man with the fuzzy grey hair.

I bowed. A distinguished-looking magician came to the stage and ceremoniously presented me with a medallion about the size of a half dollar. I took it with reverence. I was now officially a magician within this world.

“Would you like to take a tour of the guild?” said the grey-haired magician, approaching me from the other side of the stage. “My name is Mikayus. I am the head of the department of alchemy.”

“I would be glad to,” I said.

Mikayus led me out of the lecture hall and into a corridor lined with doors, just like a school building back at university.

“This is the summoning center,” said Mikayus. “And that’s where the pure magicians work.”

He showed me through the rest of the building and finished the tour at the grand entrance.

“We should be getting you an office,” said Mikayus. “But that won’t happen for a bit. Please, let me treat to you to some dinner.”

“Is there a good place around here?” I said.

“There is a good Bulkian shop near my house.”

“Then let’s go there. I’ve never eaten Bulkian food before.”

“You’re in for a real treat,” said Mikayus. We walked in silence for a few steps.

“I was wondering,” said Mikayus. “Where, exactly, did you come from?”

“Another world,” I said.

“And where is this other world located?” said Mikayus.

“It’s a secret,” I said. “I am unable to tell you.”

“I suppose we all have secrets,” said Mikayus. “I won’t pry any further.” He paused. “I am aware of one other magician in this town who claims to be from an otherworld. Let me ask you this question: what are you planning on doing here?”

“A sort of portal exchange,” I said. “My world has many objects that could be used to this world’s benefit. Not to mention the knowledge I have about the world and how it works.”

“You certainly did demonstrate an exceptional knowledge of alchemy,” said Mikayus.

“I studied the stuff in school,” I said. I certainly had done chemistry labs during college and high school. Compared to the education of the average peasant from the medieval period, this was a considerable education in the subject.

“What school did you go to?” asked Mikayus.

“A university in my home nation,” I said. “I specialized in the study of the mind.”

“Ah, you are also a philosopher,” said Mikayus. “I took you for the type. Tell me, how does one contemplate divinity?”

“I am not so sure,” I said. “That one question may still be out of my reach to understand.”

“It’s good to be honest about these things,” said Mikayus. “In any case, we have arrived.”

We stood before a hole-in-the-wall shop whose only window was crusted and obviously salvaged. The whole place had a rickety look that did not really endear me to it.

Mikayus, paying no attention to the state of the building, pushed his way through the curtain in the doorway.

“Ma!” he yelled. “A brown soup for two!”

I followed him in. The interior, just like the outside, was rickety and poorly constructed. But I did smell an incredible aroma coning from behind the bar counter. A fat woman was cooking, dancing with surprising grace among the stoves and pots. She pushed two cracked ceramic bowls towards us before we sat down, and as we sat, she ladled huge portions of soup in to each one.

“Eat up,” she said.

I took my first bite with ginger anticipation. The flavor burst into my mouth with surprising complexity. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted on Earth. I could compare it to a mushroom stew, but that wouldn’t give it justice. It was, quite literally, impossible to describe.

The meat in the stew was gamey but flavorful. The noodles were soft and chewy, with just the right consistency. Overall, I really enjoyed it.

Mikayus took his time eating, and finished five minutes after I did. He wiped his mouth with a dainty handkerchief and stood up.

“Thanks,” he said, passing the woman a few copper coins.

We walked out of the establishment. The air was cold and I could see Mikayus’s breath come out in clouds.

“We are prepared to purchase more of the magic items which you seem to have so many of,” said Mikayus. “We will keep your involvement a secret so as not to attract too much attention. Somehow the guild is going to manage to sell off the items without garnering the eyes of any important people. We will, as always, pay a fair price.” He paused. “Do you have anywhere to stay for tonight?” he asked.

I shook my head.

“Then stay with me until you can find yourself a good home. With the money you made today you’ll be able to afford a mansion. But one does not go about buying such estates in an evening.”

“Thanks,” I said.

We stopped in front of a respectable-looking building.

“This is my house,” said Mikayus.

He opened the door and I entered.

Otherworld Businessman Chapter 2

 

Chapter 2

“Hello, is this the residence of Samuel Ran?”

A reporter was standing at my doorstep. It was six in the morning and I had been woken rudely by the doorbell.

“Um, yes,” I said.

The reporter shoved a mic into my face. “Tell me about the mysterious gold coin collection you found in your backyard.”

“I, ah, I was using a metal detector and it just went off behind my shed,” I said.

I had, of course, purchased a metal detector and dug a convincing hole behind my shed before going to bed the night before. It looked like my efforts paid off.

“Tell us more,” said the reporter.

“We’re live, we’re live,” I heard the cameramen say to each other.

This was getting out of hand.

“I don’t have anything to say,” I said. “I found it. That’s all.”

“What are you going to do with the estimated five hundred thousand dollars the collection is worth after selling it?”

“Get a better car,” I said. I put my hand in front of my eyes. “Please, no more.”

“We have more questions!” said the reporter.

Two more news vans parked in front of my house. I backed up without finishing the conversation and slammed the door. I then slid to the ground behind it and placed my face in my hands.

This was not good. Not good at all. I got up and turned on the TV in the living room, changing it to the local news channel. There I was, talking about the find. This was the local news station, so I hoped my story had stayed that way. I sat down on the couch in front of the TV and groaned. This was not a good start to my adventures in the other world. If this portal was made public, who knew what would happen to me and that world? It would be a disaster of the highest ordinance. I decided then and there to be stealthier about the stuff I brought back from that world. I would have to do a better job of laundering the gold I got. Maybe even to the point of going underground. The less questions asked, the better.

I sighed and turned off the TV. Peeking through the window, I saw at least five news vans and at lest a dozen reporters. I shut all the blinds and pulled all the curtains.

I still needed to actually sell the coins I had. I would go to the same place as before, of course. Everyone knew about my find now. There was no use hiding it. The only thing going for me was the fact that this gold was untraceable, being from an alternate reality. So there was no way they would think I stole it from somewhere. It wasn’t Earth currency.

I took a few deep breaths. I would have to deal with those reporters eventually. Standing up, I approached the door, and then hung my hand over the doorknob. I needed to prepare myself for what was about to happen. I grabbed the bag of coins from the table next to the door and took a deep breath. Into the wild!

I opened the door to a flurry of camera flashes. I shaded my eyes with my palm. The number of reporters was staggering. I was definitely more than local news at this point. I remembered all the other stories of people finding a large amount of gold on their property. I just hoped that the law would be in my favor for this one and I would get to keep the money I made through the sale of the gold.

I walked towards the driveway, where my car was parked.

“Do you have any statements?” said a reporter, holding a mic towards me.

“No, I told you, I’m not saying anything,” I said. “You can get the story from the coin shop owner. Greetsie’s Coins.”

“Is that where you’re planning on selling your find?” said a reporter.

“Yes. No. I mean, yes. Please stop bothering me.” I got into my car and closed the doors. The reporter walked beside my car as I pulled out, pointing a camera at me.

I drove with an entourage to the coin shop, which was indeed called Greetsie’s Coins. I brought the bag through and was faced with three policemen. One of them held out a badge.

“I’m sorry,” said the policeman in front. “We haven’t found any evidence of foul play, but we do want to make sure that you know this transaction is being recorded. Mr. Greetsie has agreed to buy the coins from you at spot plus thirty percent. We’re here at his request to make sure that there are no problems with the transaction.”

I placed the bag of coins on the table. Mr. Greetsie, the person I met yesterday behind the counter, began counting the coins. Cameras went off outside the shop, though the reporters had not been let inside. Mr. Greetsie continued to count the coins with an intense expression on his face.

“Three hundred and two coins at about an ounce each, totaling three hundred and ten ounces. I will pay you spot plus thirty percent, up from ten percent in our initial negotiations as I believe these coins, though of unknown origin, are valuable to collectors.” He handed me a contract. “Sign this. Gold prices are currently one thousand, eight hundred and twelve dollars an ounce. That comes out to seven hundred and thirty thousand, two hundred and thirty-six dollars.” He reached beneath the counter and pulled out a suitcase of cash. “I’ve liquidated most of my assets to make this purchase in cash,” he said. He handed me the suitcase.

I held it. It was heavier than I though it would be.

Here I was, living out one of the things on my bucket list, namely holding a suitcase full of hundred dollar bills.

“We can give you an escort to the bank,” said one of the police officers. “And we can be witnesses for you to make your deposit. Of course this is all going to have to go through official channels.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Do you know of any financial advisors that I can contact?”

“Smart man,” said Mr. Greetsie. He handed me a beat-up business card. “This is the guy I use.”

I thanked Mr. Greetsie and left the shop. The three cops pushed away the reporters as I headed towards my car. I got in, started it, and drove for the nearest bank.

The three officers followed me in two patrol carts. We made it to the bank and I brought the suitcase full of cash out.

Two hours of paperwork later, I had myself a fat bank account. Now I needed to see a financial advisor. I looked at the business card that had been handed to me as I sat in my car outside the bank.

“We’ll be taking our leave,” said one of the officers, before stepping away and driving off.

I sat in the car for another five minutes contemplating what I was about to do, and then I started the car and drove across town to where the financial advisor’s office was located.

Dan Timmers, was the man’s name. I stopped in front of his office, which occupied a nondescript strip mall along with a pizza place and a fitness gym.

I got out of my car and entered the office. The receptionist looked up at me and I could see the boredom in her face. “You look familiar,” she said. “Are you famous?”

“No,” I said.

“Never mind then,” said the receptionist. “Are you here to see Mr. Timmers?”
 “Yes,” I said.

“Do you have an appointment?” said the receptionist.

“No, but, uh, I kind of need to see him now,” I said.

“The nearest appointment is in a week,” said the receptionist.

“Fine, then, put me down.”

I left the office feeling a bit defeated. I needed someone who I could talk with about selling the gold I was bound to bring back from my travels in the otherworld. If I couldn’t figure out a way to sell the stuff without making a big stink, I wouldn’t be able to start a business.

After all, this first venture was exceptionally profitable. Fifty bucks worth of normal household modern goods sold for seven hundred thousand dollars worth of gold.

That got me thinking. Should I really keep this place a secret? There was so much that could happen if I made this public. The government would get involved, more people would try profiteering, and, well, you get the rest.

I then made a decision. This world needed more study to figure out what kind of a place it was. If I could use my modern connection to help the people of that world, I would. I had made enough money already to support myself for a good while and I didn’t need more. I decided that I would scout out the world and if I thought it would help I would make the door public. Then, of course, the government would get involved, as the sovereign entities within the closet were as legitimate as those of the United Nations.

However, at this moment, the door was no larger than a closet. There was no way to facilitate a true “Columbian Exchange,” or more accurately “Closet Exchange” of goods and technology between worlds. I mean, magic worked there! That was something worth studying!

I would do my legwork and then figure out how to break this information to the people who mattered.

“Hey, there, Mr. President,” I would say. “I found a portal to another universe in my closet! How about that!”

I chuckled to myself in the car and drove to the nearest gun shop. This was America so it wasn’t too difficult. I walked up to the counter.

“I need a rifle, a pistol, and some ammunition,” I said.

“Fill this out,” said the clerk.

I filled out the information for a background check. Of course I had no prior involvement with the law. When the check came back clear I bought a Remington 700 rifle and a Smith and Wesson pistol in 9 mm. I bought enough ammunition, I figured, for a small firefight. I then caught sight of a crossbow hanging behind the counter.

“I’ll take that,” I said.

Ten minutes later I was back in my car and headed for the local grocery store. There I bought more canned soda, canned goods, and plastic utensils and such, until I filled up two cartloads. I packed the stuff into my trunk. It barely fit, which reminded me that I needed a new car.

But that would be later. I needed to keep my cool when it came to buying stuff. I also went to the hardware store and bought a number of items, including a large wagon which I was planning on using to transport my goods.

With everything strapped to the car and packed tight enough to make me worry about my car scraping the concrete, I headed home.

When I got there I set everything up and transported all the goods through the closet portal. I set up the wagon and piled the goods on top. It was no problem to take the wagon down the path towards the city.

I knew I needed a “wizard’s amulet” to make my travel inside the city easier. However, I figured that I could at least get through this once like I did before.

I got into the line to enter the city. When I reached the soldiers at the gate, one of them recognized me.

“Hey, you’re that weird wizard who came here yesterday,” he said.

“Sorry, do you mind letting me through again?” I said. “I managed to forget my wizard’s pass again.”

“Aya,” said the guard. “Don’t do it again. You can get a replacement at the guild.” He waved me through.

Easy enough, I supposed. Now was where the real magic happened.

Otherworld Businessman Chapter 1

 

Chapter 1

The day I discovered the portal in my closet was the day I graduated from college. I had just put away my academic gown when I noticed a shining light coming from behind the packed clothes. I walked towards it, pushing my way through shirts I barely used, and came out onto the side of a mountain. The world stretched out before me. Not my world, I could tell. The air was too clear, for one. And there was a medieval city smack dab in the center of the valley formed by the mountains. No cars, no electricity, no trains. I was inside of a bona fide Narnia. I shielded my eyes from the sun and watched the horse drawn carriages travel along the dirt paths.

I remembered an aphorism from somewhere. If one ever got the chance to head to a preindustrial world, one must bring with them a six pack of soda. The aluminum in the cans would be worth more than its weight in gold. I was now in this situation and I needed a six pack of soda. So I turned around and returned to my own closet. The world was just as I had left it. I had been renting with two roommates and was about to move out. Now that I had my own personal otherworld in my closet, I didn’t think I needed to do that anymore. I was beginning to hatch a perfect plan.

First I would trade aluminum from soda cans as well as various other practically magical objects from my reality for some coinage from that realm. Then I would go to a coin shop and sell them for their weight in gold and silver. Boom, perfect way to make a ton of money. Ten bucks for a twenty-four pack of soda and I could walk home with as thousand bucks worth of gold.

I got into my rickety old sedan and drove to the supermarket. I was practically broke at this point but I had enough money to buy two twenty-four packs of soda and a bunch of other things I assumed would fetch a high price in a medieval world. Solo cups, cheap crystal glasses and wine stems, and a few lighters. I packed it all up and brought it home. Within ten minutes I had a pile of goods on the floor of the cavern that my portal opened on to. I brought a red pull wagon and loaded up the goods. The wagon had belonged to the little sister of one of my roommates and he had left it in the house. His loss.

I pulled the cart down the mountain towards the town. When I got to the gate, I realized that I would probably have to show some form of identification or at least pay a fee. I waited in line with a bunch of farmers and inched towards the gates.

When the guards came to me they looked me over with incredulous expressions on their faces.

“Ey, where you come from?” said the one on the right, a man with a big beard. “You don’t look like you’re from around here.”

“I, uh, I came from a far away place with special goods,” I said.

“Let me see them,” said the guard on the left, a clean-shaven baby-faced man.

I showed them my stock. They looked it over with squinted eyes.

“What’s this made of?” said the guard on the right, pointing to the Solo cups.

“Magic,” I said. I didn’t expect them to take it seriously. But they did.

“Ah, I did not realize you were a wizard, sir,” said the guard on the left.

“Um, yeah,” I said. “That’s it. I’m a wizard.”

“Well next time bring your amulet with you. I’ll let you through this time.”

I was waved through. I walked onto a grand street that smelled like limp cabbage and fecal matter. This place obviously had no real method of sanitation, as expected for a medieval city.

I wandered around for a bit before finding a market. I had no idea how, or where, to sell my goods, so I decided to just talk to the nearest shopkeeper. The shopkeeper I chose was a diminutive man with a long beard and a helmet. After staring at him for a bit I realized he was a dwarf. I approached him.

“Sir, I’m a traveling wizard. Where can I sell magic items?”

“Over there,” said the dwarf, pointing towards the cathedral at the center of the city. “Right underneath the church is the magicians’ guild. You can sell your stuff there.” He paused. “What kind of stuff you got? Do you mind letting me take a look?”

I pulled up the red wagon. “In here,” I said. “I have some aluminum, some plastic cups, and some glassware. Also lighters and canned tuna and chips.” I took a bag of Lays and opened it. “Here, try this,” I said. “It’s on me.”

The dwarf took the bag of chips with a careful expression and sniffed it. He then waved his hand over it and a blue light surrounded it. Magic? It had to be magic. I wondered if I could do it too. I would try later for sure.

The dwarf took a single chip and placed it on his tongue.

“Salty,” he said. “And crunchy. What kind of bread is this?”

“It’s a potato chip,” I said.

“Potato?” said the dwarf. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It’s a tuber from my home town,” I said. “Very nutritious.”

Goal number one: introduce potato cultivation to this pre-Columbian Exchange world. Corn too. I would look up the best way to do that when I returned home.

The dwarf ate another chip. He then grabbed a big handful and shoved it into his mouth.

“This stuff is delicious,” he said. “How much would you charge for the rest of them?”

“Truth be told,” I said, “I’m not familiar with this world’s currency. For my reference, how much does a horse cost?”

“Ten gold coins,” said the dwarf. He extended his hand. “The name’s Dwarmir. I hope that you bring me more of these chips.” He looked at the empty chip bag. “And what in god’s name is this made out of?”

“Plastic,” I said. “You can use it for a lot of things. You can have all the bags for free if you buy the chips.”

“I can see many uses for this substance,” said Dwarmir. “As a blacksmith this material could change how I work.”

“Then I’ll bring you a bunch more. I’ll sell the rest of the bags to you for one gold coin and I’ll be back with more.”

“Deal,” said Dwarmir. He gave me a gold coin and I gave him the rest of the Frito Lay Fun Pack. Dwarmir marveled at the packaging. “By the gods,” he said. “This is amazing.”

I waved. “Bye. I have to go sell the rest of my stuff at the magician’s guild.”

I headed towards the cathedral, which towered over the cityscape. When I got to its entrance I noted the presence of a small offshoot of the building. The sign above it read “Magician’s Guild.” I was glad to know I could read their writing. Perfect English.

I pushed my way into the building. It was massively bigger on the inside than the outside, probably due to magic. I wandered through the gigantic foyer until I made it to the reception desk. I placed a can of soda on the counter.

“I have here a magical goblet made of pure aluminum and filled with elixir of energy,” I said. “It is called, ah, Cola.”

The receptionist took the can and turned it around in her hand. She then mouthed a few words and held her other hand over the can. A bright light surrounded the metal. The receptionist’s eyes lit up.

“This is indeed aluminum. I will pay you three gold coins for it.”

I took the two twenty-four packs and slammed them on the counter. “I’ll take two hundred gold coins for the lot.”

The receptionist raised an eyebrow, which was very professional considering what I had just thrust in front of her.

“Two hundred it is,” said the receptionist. She counted out two hundred gold coins right in front of me and poured them into a bag. I then planted the glassware and tuna cans in front of her.

“One hundred gold coins for this,” I said. “Pure crystal glassware of the highest quality. Ten tins of super fish that was caught in the wilds of my homeland.”

The receptionist rubbed her chin. “Ninety,” she said.

“Deal,” I said. I collected my money and bowed, turning around and leaving  the guild hall. I made a beeline for the exit and climbed the mountain path that led to my portal. Once I went through it, I returned to my old world. I had about three hundred gold coins, each one weighing in at about an ounce. I looked them over and decided that they would be worth more as collector’s pieces than for their bulk gold content. I would just have to see how a jeweler would react to these things.

I looked up the location of the nearest coin shop and got into my car to head there. Ten minutes later I walked through the classic coin shop door and into a nice looking establishment. The person behind the counter was flipping through their phone.

I walked up to the counter, placing a single one of the coins on the glass. “How much for this,” I said.

The man walked up to me and picked up the coin. “Hm,” he said. “I don’t recognize this coin. Where did you find it?”

“I found it buried in my backyard,” I said. “I just got a metal detector and was practicing.” I took out the rest of the coins. “And I found all these too.”

“Whoa,” said the man. “That’s a lot of gold. We’re going to have to report this.”

“Um, sure,” I said. “Why?”

“Because we don’t know where this stuff came from,” said the man. “If we call the authorities and a museum is missing half their collection we’ll know where these came from.” He picked up another coin. “But I’ve never seen anything like this before. I don’t even recognize the language.” He clacked it against another coin. “But I do know it is pure gold. Do you mind staying here while I make a few phone calls?”

This may not have been a good idea. I would have to dig a hole in my backyard before any authorities got there.

The man took out his phone and called someone. He spoke for a few minutes and then put the phone down. “I’ll make you a temporary offer of spot plus ten percent. I don’t know the real value of these for a collector but you don’t have to sell them to me now. You can wait until we know what they’re actually worth. If you give me a coin or two for me to send to a grading company I’ll pay the fees.”

“Here,” I said, handing him three gold coins. I took the rest of the coins off the counter.

“Give me your number,” said the man.

I gave him my number and left the store. I knew now that I had made a mistake. There were no cops coming down the street, but I felt as if they would be here any minute. Not a good idea, not a good idea.

How else was I supposed to sell these, then? That was what I was wondering. I needed money to buy stuff to sell to this medieval world for more money. I really needed to rethink my strategy.

I decided to stash away the gold until I figured out a better was to sell it.

Little did I know that I would soon become headline news all over my state.