Goldrush (standard:humor, 1063 words)
Author: GXD	Added: Sep 17 2007	Views/Reads: 3102/2048	Story vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
The story of a teeny-weeny gold nugget and a melting chocolate cake

Click here to read the first 75 lines of the story

beard, upsetting his tight  little yarmulke.  My mind's eye 
sawchocolate-coated car cushions flowing and  spreading in the noonday 
sun. 

"That gold nugget," he continued inexorably, "lying useless, deep in the
belly of a little boy, such a nugget waiting for my hammer.  Once I 
could get the gold  out, everybody would be joyous.  Now, you mustn't 
breathe a word of this to anyone, mind you.  I even prayed a little.  
God takes care of His own, you know.   When I went back up to take a 
look, Michael was sitting up in bed." 

Two birds flew down from the rafters and fluttered around us, before
making a  tour of the stained glass windows.  The poor things were as 
trapped as I was.   The Rabbi went to the end of the room, opened the 
big doors and chirped a couple  of times.  When he came back, the birds 
shot for the door and got away. 

"Sometimes," he explained to me, "I leave them a few crumbs.  They stay
overnight and sleep late."  I didn't see at all, but he went on: 

"So the kid was up and bright as a new penny.  I kneeled down and took
him in  my arms, squeezing just the tiniest bit." 

"Michael looked at me in a strange way and said, 'Reb Chaim, what a
lumpy bed  you have!' so I checked it out and there it was, just under 
the pillow." 

I laughed with relief.  "Just like the tooth fairy!" 

The Rabbi beamed from ear to ear.  "Right!" he shot back, "Even the same
size!   The kids parents were so glad to get him back, they gave me the 
nugget.  Now  it's a gold leaf."  He turned and waved toward the 
gossamer solar disk I had been admiring.  "Miracles still happen, no? " 


I got back in the car, somehow.  All the way home I licked the car seat
clean, one finger at a time, hoping against hope to find a golden 
nugget inside the half-molten chocolate cake when we cut it open. 

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   *   * 

Gerald X. Diamond Seattle,  November 11, 1987


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