Mesa Trail ch. 20
Draft 2

Mr. Bunkledon was clearly impatient and rocked back and forth on his rotating seat, eyeing up new emails that popped in alert at the bottom of his screen.  What, precisely, were these three kids doing in his office, here to make a deal? Deal for what, for whom?  He had only been at this office for a bit over a year, but this was exactly the kind of thing that landed him in a new job in first place and he would not go through the process of paying his dues all over again.  Hannah had set her wrapped dish towel on his desk then sat down, Josh and Kitie to either side. "So I understand you are the miner family?" he said with more than a slight tone of skepticism.  To Bunkledon, risks and gambles and dreams were for, well, gamblers and dreamers.  Whenever he looked over the numbers of his own bank account, or certainly any account that he oversaw, a certain feeling of pure and unadulterated security came over him.  Sure, those numbers were just digits on a screen, but they represented real money, safely secured, inside a vault somewhere.  He had mastered the kind of pride it takes to know the numbers are in line, and it was that knowledge that he transfered over to the banking client.  The rest of his years were a vision of numbers piling up, slowly but surely, until, at some point not yet known, he would feel a kind of religious security and could walk along the streets knowing that he accomplished what he set out to do.

"We need a way to transfer gold to money, so that we can use it for charities and foundations, and stuff like that here in town. Here, we brought this for you as well." Hannah handed Bunkledon a pack of three cookies in a bag.  "When we're not mining and going to school, we are cooking at home, too.  We have this thing at school called a cookie walk for our teachers. We'd like you to take a look at our operation up at Mesa Trail," Hannah said, her hands crossed, now making a deal.  "That way you know this is not a one-time shot." Bunkledon raised his eyebrows in slight disbelief.  He was bald on top, with slight wisps of thick brown hair above the ears.  His glasses were tilted a little from left to right and the right eyepiece was smudged.  He took a miniature bite of the cookie and hid his surprise.  They knew they were a soft, good batch because the three of them had purposefully made a back-up batch, identical, and ate it up before arriving.  "If you saw that we had a steady source at our sluice box, you might find it easier to take us on as clients.

"Look, kids, the idea is a very valiant one, truly, but aren't you up there without a claim? I mean, really, up to now it's been a fun way to get to know local history...and I might add getting out of school, but at some point, somebody is going to come back for that, or it's county land."  Josh stood up and lifted the cover of the dish towel and revealed small mason jar that was crammed full of uniform gold flecks. "This is just one of .... many. We imagine we have $20,000 dollars worth." Katie chimed in that the Boulder Bank could be the name that is recognized as the gold nugget bank, willing to turn gold to money, money to gold, and all for the sake of the citizens." Bunkledon was not one for sentiment, though, and where the kids no doubt saw aspirations of a charity organization fueled by kid-work and kid-ideas, he saw a carnival, a real circus act, red tape, odd scandals and griping shareholders.  "It's our claim.  My great grandfather mined the Bear Canyon Creek, and he deeded to the city trail trust.  That is now run by my mother. You can have that vial as a sample." He asked the question, how do you know, really, that more will come." He said this as he examined his new gold with one eye. He wondered what gold tasted like, gold cookies, gold salt, gold everything." Josh knew exactly how, "our turtles tell us."