You’re priceless, squirt. You make my jaw drop sometimes.” Then he gave me a serious look.
“Tell me, squirt, how old are you?” “My pretend age or my real one?”
“Real, of course. I don’t want a friend who lies.”
It’s like this: I’m really five. But I pretend I’m six, otherwise they won’t let me go to school.”
“And why did they put you in school so early?” “Ha! Everyone wanted me out of their hair for a few hours.”
“Do you know what carborundum is?” “Where’d you get that from?”
I put my hand in my pocket and felt around among the pebbles, slingshot, trading cards, spinning-top string and marbles.
“It’s this.” I held up a medallion with the head of an Indian on it. A North American Indian, with feathers in his hair.
The word was written on the back. He turned the medallion over in his hand.
“I’m afraid I don’t know either. Where did you find this?”
“It’s part of Father’s pocket watch. It had a strap with this on the end, which was supposed to hang out of his pocket.”
“Father said the watch was going to be my inheritance. But then he needed money and had to sell it.”
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