The Coin

By Charles Ynfante

Is love forever? Eternal? A mysterious coin from five thousand years ago finds its way through many lives. The nature of love, life, and death. All will discover.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Charles Ynfante
• Release date: Jan 2, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215512784

Charles Ynfante

Charles Ynfante acquired a Ph.D. in history from Northern University Arizona in Flagstaff, Arizona.  He was a Fellow at the United States Memorial Holocaust Museum in Washington, DC. He has authored numerous books of fiction. He was a participant in Hollywood motion pictures, television, and theater.

Book preview

3000 BCE. SUMERIA

The Sumerian grandfather spoke to his young daughter.

Love. A mere word. Yet a powerful elixir far beyond its spelling in whatever language.

They sat on a low wall near the River Euphrates. It was sunset, warm.

My daughter. Love is a trifle on clay.

What do you mean, grandfather?

The elder reached for his daughter’s hand.

Love is a small bug more powerful than any disease-bearing insect. Be careful of its bite.

In the warm air, a dragonfly floated past, followed by several bees.

The elder’s dark eyes narrowed as he focused on hers.

"The emotion fills its human jars with a strong belief that it will last forever, for all eternity.

Shouldn’t that be beautiful?

"No, child! For many, that is their fate, to believe this is so. But for a few, less than that, their reality is that there will be no end. That is a curse."

The daughter stared out toward the River. Without its water, all life would be gone. She looked at her grandfather.

Are you saying I should not fall in love?

I hope you do. But for only a few will it last a lifetime.

She tried to understand. She glanced at the River again. Without water, all life is gone. Without love, life is meaningless.

Neither said more as they sat quietly watching the sun set.

1763 AD. POMPEII

He turned his face up toward the sun. The bright light lit up the world. The sky blue. The trees green. Flowers yellow, red, and rainbowed. The soil deep brown, patches of grass glistening. His face was tanned. He took a deep breath. Sweet air of nature.

He turned his gaze back to the ground. The carefully dug tunnel, a dark hole with a wooden ladder, stared back at him.

He had come out of the tunnel and the tight confines below to get some fresh air. He wiped his brow with his forearm. His clothing was dirty, soiled from his sweat. They were stiff from lack of washing.

He gazed at the landscape around him. The land sloped gently toward the sea some distance away. It sloped upward toward the westward flank of Mount Vesuvius. Behind him the horses snorted. The mules restless. The animals were tied to creaked carts and their weathered and weak wood planks. Flies and bees buzzed. The animals swished their tails.

The others had not yet come out of the tunnel. The locals were either being paid to do their work below or the others were too excited to give up what they were doing. Either way, the lanterns would not last long.

Nathaniel Quinten Hawkins, would-be archeologist, fifty-eight years old, was at Pompeii, Italy. The small city had been re-discovered after two thousand years and was finally being excavated. The year was 1763.

Hawkins had passed himself off as an archeologist. He was at the excavation to steal whatever he could for his own personal gain. He had come from England for that purpose. He was searching for a coin. And a roll of papyrus.

He reached for his battered canteen, unscrewed the cap, tilted his head back, and took a long swig of cool water. As he did so, he squinted at the blinding sun. Tears glazed his eyes. He replaced the cap and put the canteen down. He meandered to his campsite not too far away. The only others there were the wranglers, cooks, and a few general laborers. But they were not active. They were resting or doing nothing, waiting for those underground to arrive so that they could service and provide for them.

Hawkins went to his tent and to his well-worn canvas fold-out chair. He reached for his pipe, which he had left on the chair. He sat down. He lit the pipe, took in a good long toke, held it in his lungs, then when the smoke made him feel good, he blew out the smoke through his nose. The sweet aroma floated away, blending into the fragrances of the blossoming vegetation.

2000 BCE. EGYPT

He turned his face toward the sun. The Sun God. He kept his gaze on the sun. Then he turned his gaze to the Pharoah standing at the top of the stairs of the temple. The Sun God.

He was the son of the God. But he did not want to marry into the God family. He wanted to marry a commoner. A woman he had met accidentally in the papyrus fields near the River Nile.

She is more than royalty! He said to himself. She is beyond life!

They met secretly in the fields in moonless nights, hidden from view, loving, and swearing love. As they lay, entwined in each other’s arms, they stared at the stars, circling in slow motion. The Pharoah’s astronomers and astrologers would never understand the young couple’s connection and interpretation to that night sky in their love.

I will love you forever. She whispered into his ear.

Forever is not enough.

They kissed and made love in their forbidden embraces.

5000 AD. THE MOUNTAIN

Leadora turned her face to the sun. The mountain was high above the tall glass and metal buildings of the Ancient City below her. The Ancient City was well lit, reflecting, and re-reflecting blinding light from the sun in all directions. But her perch