Acre Under a Green Sky

In less than an hour, Will Mosko pulled up to the Death House with the keys to the padlocked door.

There's nothing like a police car to attract kids. There was a parade of them on their way to the pool with their rolled up towels and portable radios, but Will shooed them away and ushered my father and me into the house. I ran ahead up the stairs to the closet in Luka's room and flung the door open. There it was lying on the floor next to a half full bottle of gin; more beautiful than I had remembered it. I stepped aside so Will and my father could see it.

Will picked it up and shook it.

"There's something here all right."

He began twisting off the large gray rubber knob as if it were a screw-on cap. Then there was a pop and the knob was free. He turned the baton over and started shaking it with the open end over his palm which was as big as a pie plate. The baton rattled like crazy, but nothing came out. He turned the open end toward the light and tried to look inside the baton. He looked like a pirate surveying the horizon through a glass.

"I can't see anything."

Once again, he shook the baton over his palm. Nothing.

"It's stuck," Will said, "Run and get me a hanger, son."

I ran into Marilyn's room and grabbed a wire hanger from the closet. I was moving so fast I nearly ran into the bathroom on the way back. Will straightened out the hanger, while I bounced up and down on the balls of my feet.

"Calm down, partner," my father said, "You'll bust a gut."

At last, Will maneuvered the black wire up the baton. He stoked it a few times then pulled it out. Still nothing.

"Let me try," my father said, taking the baton and hanger from Will.

"Oh no," I thought, "That thing will never come out!"

Now, my father was trying a combination of looking inside the baton while inserting the hanger. It was hopeless. The man was using delicate precision as if the hanger were a surgeon's probe. His pinky was in the air, for God's sake!

"C'mon Dad, you can't fix anything. Give it to Will."

And there it was lying at our feet.

None of us moved to touch it. It shone so brightly gold in the sun like treasure. And it was so delicate it might dissolve into gold dust if you touched it. The sun reflecting off the slender plate was actually blinding from a certain angle. Each of us looked from one to the other in amazement. Finally, Will pulled a big white handkerchief from his pocket. Then he pulled a pencil from his breast pocket and used it to pick up the object. He laid it on the handkerchief and held it out to us.

It was a very fine gold identification bracelet. The chain was a delicate herringbone weave with a clasp so tiny no man could open it. It was made for slender fingers and long painted fingernails. The plaque was slender and highly polished gold. On the face of it, it read: "February 17, 1955". And on the back, it read: "And ever after. Love J."

Its hypnotic spell was such that no one stopped me when I reached for it to get a better look.

Both Will and my father cried out and turned their backs on me in exasperation.

"I didn't break it. See! It's okay," I said, holding the bracelet out to them.

"There may have been prints on that!" my father cried out.

"You can forget about that now," Will said.

My father grabbed the bracelet out of my hand and said, "Why would she hide it in the kid's baton?"

"Marilyn stole it, that's why," I said, "She put it in the baton."

"Are you sure?" my father asked.

"Yeah, I'm sure! Once she took all the buttons off Estelle's sweater that she got for her birthday, because they were like rubies, she said. Marilyn was a terrible sneak thief for shiny things!"

"I'm going to have to take that in, you know."

"You've got to find the jeweler who did this. I want to know who paid for it."