The Promised Land

Three days in the heat of it all. California was turning out to be a bust, thought Parker.

His curly mustache was now itching. That was good enough for him, he thought, time to call it a day.

Parker Evens walked out of the shallow river and sat down next to his horse, Charlie.

“No gold, Charlie. Three days here and still no gold…” he said to the animal.

He took out a thin piece of dried meat and began to chew on it.

Thank god for the cold water at least, thought Parker, otherwise the sun would have cooked and dried him up like the beef jerky he was eating.

He prayed every morning for gold…and still no gold to be found.

“Let’s get back to town, Charlie, we aint staying out here another day” he told his horse as he got up.

Marks Town was nearly a 2 days ride from where he was camped on Copper River.

As Parker rode back he thought about the casino night a week ago.

“You can bet on it. Copper River is prime pickens for pieces of gold. That’s how I bought this suit!” the man had told him.

It was true the man was dressed like a winner. All fancy like. A rouse, it turns out.

Parker was a fool to spend money on that cheat.

The only thing gold he found at Copper River was gold urine he pissed out every day. Part of him hoped to see the man again and get his money back, but Parker knew the stranger was passing through. Everyone was passing through Mark’s Town. Gypsies and Travelers alike. The only man who stayed longer than two years there was Percy Jerkins, the 80 year old barber. In fact, the dried meat Parker was carrying was from the barber. They both nicknamed the meat ‘Jerky’ for fun.

The ride had been easy enough. Mostly down hill.

As Parker rode into town he saw bands of carts parking next to the saloon.

Gypsies.

Parker has only been in the area for nearly 6 months, but this was the fourth time gypsies came through. They’d only stay for couple days, maybe a week, but would be one of the fastest crews to go. They would always come in numbers. It was one of the oddest things Parker had seen in his life.

As he rode his horse Charlie into town towards the barber shop he passed a few of them wearing strange clothing.

He’d tip his hat in courtesy, but it was always met with grim expressions. As if Parker was the stranger. These strange folks were the oddest of things, thought Parker.

Then one of the men tipped his hat back. The man was smiling as Parker rode by.

“Beautiful horse, my good man” said the gypsie.

The comment threw Parker off. These folks were shallow with their conversations. Hearing one talk back in such a courteous way was rare indeed.

He made no reply, but nodded his head with a shocked expression towards the stranger.

Parker didn’t look back, but he could feel the man’s eyes follow him down the street. The odd smile probably still on the man’s face, he thought.

“Gypsies” mumbled Parker to his horse Charlie, “Odd people indeed….”.

He pulled up to the barber shop and strapped Charlie down to the post, giving the horse a bucket of pellets hanging on the post.

He walked inside.

A bearded man sat back in his chair with a pound of shaving cream covering half of his face. Above him was an old, pot-bellied, bald man readying his blade to cut the man’s beard.

A smile stretched across Percy Jerkin’s face.

“My..My.. Parker Evens the famed gold miner,” the man laughed.

Parker noticed a bottle of whiskey on the table. He smiled back at the old man.

Percy patted his clients shoulder and looked at Parker, “Where’s that sack of gold, Mr. Evans?!” he laughed.

“Ha.Ha,” replied Parker sarcastically and dryly, “Yes. You were right, Mr. Jerkins, I shouldn’t have given money to that man. It was a fool’s errand”.

The old man’s grin mellowed into a slight smile as he returned to his business.

“Ah well…Pick up the broom if you aint got any gold. Start doing your share now that you’re back” he told him.

Parker nodded his head. Though he was tired, the old man has been very lenient on his stay upstairs. Occasionally he would pay the Jerkins some money, but would spend most of the time helping around the shop. Parker never told the man, but the little money he made to pay for things was from selling the old man’s own dried meat he made. That Jerky was the only thing keeping him floating.

The sun was nearly set and Parker sat next to Percy on the porch. The smoke of their hand rolled cigarettes blew into the sunset as they both watched the town pass them by.

A trader was tying down his overloaded cart. He went back to his shop and nailed a sign: “Open to Rent”.

“Another one closed down” said Percy in a tired voice.

“It’s the way its been the last 6 months I’ve been here. Things closing and opening,” replied Parker as he exhaled smoke from his nose.

“That’s the 3rd one in the last month, Parker, its going too quick. Soon enough this town is gonna have nothing left,” said the old man.

“Mr. Jenkins, people need this town. It’s the only stop we have between the boarder and the next Market Town,” replied Parker.

Jerkins shook his head, “News from the gypsies say there’s a machine that is taking people in a more direct route. Trolly..Trak..Tryain..Train or something”

Parker looked at the old man, “Not a good idea to talk to them gypsie people, Mr. Jerkins..”.

The thought of the smiling gypsy man from earlier entered Parker’s mind. There was a slight shiver down his spine. Parker didn’t know why.

Old man threw down his cigarette and stared at the shop owner now setting off into the sunset.

“Times are changing…Those strange folks know it better than everyone. Heck, they know how to handle it better than anyone. But me…” there was a heavy sigh from Jerkins, “I’m tired, Parker…Tired in being in a town constantly on the edge…A tired town…” he said.

The old man faked a smile towards Parker, “The day’s whiskey has got me…Glad your back, my boy” he said.

Parker tried to make his smile less sad than it was, “Glad to be back, Mr. Jerkins, now you go get some sleep. I’m gonna enjoy the early night out here for a few more ticks”

Old man stood up and padded his shoulder before going in.

The cool air filled the town around him.

Parker could hear the saloon’s music and shouts echo down the street.

It was nearly 11 at night and Parker sipped another drink of whiskey, nearly falling asleep on the porch chair. His eyes heavy and drowsy.

“We meet again,” said a voice.

Parker’s eyes suddenly opened, seeing a man in front of him. The same man who complimented his horse earlier. The smiling gypsy.

Parker nodded his head, “Yes, I remember. Enjoying your night, Mr..”

“Vegas. Zekel Vegas,” the gypsy replied bowing down.

Parker found the bowing gesture odd and uncomfortable. Too foreign for these parts.

Vegas seemed to have caught the young man’s feelings and apologized.

“No, no. Forgive me,” said Parker now feeling embarrassed, “I haven’t met much of you gypsy folks, so I don’t know your customs” he said, “If you’d like, I have some whiskey if you folks drink that sort of thing,” he finished.

Parker remembered Jenkin being sentimental about these folks, so he figured the old man would appreciate parker being a little more open to them. Then again, Parker knew these folks don’t mingle with local folk.

“No drinks for me, but I’ll have a smoke” replied the man.

Parker froze in thought. What kind of gypsy is this Mr. Zekel Vegas.

“Why sure..” replied Parker, gesturing to the seat next to him.

What a story this will be, thought Parker, telling Jerkins that a gypsy man was sitting next to him sharing a smoke.

The man sat down and Parker began rolling him a cigarette before the man stopped him and smiled.

Sal pulled out something in his coat. A small container that he opened to reveal a neat row of 6 cigarettes.

“Among my people, these are some of the highest qualities we may find,” he said, “Would you like to try?” he asked gesturing the case of cigarettes towards Parker.

Parker agreed and took one out. He had never seen such a smoothly roll of tobacco before. He put it in his mouth and lit it up. Sal doing the same.

A wave of awe hit Parker’s face.

“My god” he said in delight, “Now that is the BEST cigarette I’ve every had in my life”.

The gypsy Zekel smiled and nodded his head, “I’m glad you liked them,” he replied.

They both sat in silence for nearly half an hour, enjoying the midnight air and sweet tobacco.

“You came into town, I saw,” began Zekel who blew a trail of smoke under the full moon gleaming above, “might I ask from where?” he asked.

Parker smiled and chuckled, “You really want to know?” he asked laughing.

The gypsy nodded.

“I was trying to look for gold,” smiled parker, “I guess I lost a bet from a stranger at a bar…Turned out to be a waste of time,” he finished.

Zekel smiled as he crushed his cigarette, seemingly staring towards the street.

“Gold,” said the gypsy, “Is THAT what you want?” he asked, now staring directly into Parker’s brown eyes.

Parker felt something strange flow threw him, but the whiskey and tobacco soon fazed it away.

A light cold breeze swept through the porch before he finally answered.

“Yes.”

“If you want gold, I can give it to you” said the gypsy Zekel Vegas.

Parker laughed at the man’s joke.

“I’m not joking, Parker Evans,” said the man.

Did I say my name to him? Parker couldn’t remember.

“You’re telling me if I wanted gold then you’d give it to me?” replied Parker, ignoring the strange feeling in his gut.

“Yes,” replied Sal.

The whiskey made Parker laugh, “Yes, that’s what I want”, he replied, playing along.

The gypsy pulled out a small knife and slit his hand slightly, letting blood now pool up in his palm.

Parker suddenly went sober, “What the hell are you doing?” he asked in awe.

“Call it: my peoples weirdness, but do the same and shake my hand,” said the man.

“Cutting my hand? I don’t think so,” replied Parker.

“If you do, I can lead you to gold,” said Sal.

Parker’s thoughts were taking him back to the man at the casino. This time…It didn’t cost money. What did he have to lose.

He took the man’s small blade and made a lesser cut on his palm, then shook the stranger’s hand.

“I want gold,” said Parker.

Parker swore he saw something flash in the gypsy’s eyes. It was almost un-human.

“The night’s getting late, let’s discuss this in the morning, Parker Evans,” he said.

Parker watched the man get up and walk down the street. The sound of a dog scurrying by distracted him for a brief second. When he looked back… The man was nowhere in sight.

Parker’s eyes were drowsy and dreamy. Tiredness crashed upon him.

“Wake up, Parker” said a voice alongside tough pats shaking his shoulder.

Parker’s eyes slowly opened and he saw old man Jerkins staring at him.

“You better watch your whiskey,” said the man, “knocking yourself outside at night will get ya into trouble, boy”

Parker’s mind ached and he slowly nodded in agreement.

Memories of the previous night slowly awoke as he did the same.

The cigarettes. The gypsy. The gold. The deal.

The old man stared disappointingly, “Wake up, and start prepping the hot water, Parker..”

“Yes, sir” he replied, slowly getting out of the patio chair.

The old man walked into the shop and started sweeping. The night’s wind left a thin layer of dust upon everything.

Parker walked inside the shop and noticed something on the table.

A package wrapped in a leather. A paper was folded on top.

Jerkins looked up and noticed the boy looking at the package.

“It’s for you. Fancy thing… To receive wrapped packages,” said the old man, “never seen much of it, and don’t know where it came from… Woke up, and it was there…”

Parker went up and opened it.

It was a panning bowl used for gold.

“Ha!” smiled the old man, somewhat relieved it wasn’t anything special, “looks like your old gambling buddy left you something” .

He opened the letter. It read:

“Dearest Parker Evens,

I enjoyed your company last night, and as we agreed- Gold. There are three rules:

1. You must give each piece of gold you find to a person.

2. You cannot give a piece of gold to the same person.

3. You must pan for gold every single day.

Until we meet again,

Zekel Vegas “

The old man noticed the expression of mystery coating Parker’s face.

“Everything ok?” he asked, now wondering if he had it all wrong.

Parker looked up at Jerkins, “no, its ok. Ive fallen for another silly joke”.

The old man rolled his eyes in disappointment, “How much money did you lose this time?” he asked.

“None,” he replied, somewhat relieved to hear himself say it.

Not money, he thought. Blood…

No harm with that, thought Parker who was shaking off the feeling of discomfort. He didn’t think mentioning the night with the gypsy would be the right thing to do. Parker kept silent.

It was nearly mid-day and they had a handful of customers come in. Parker thought Jerkins to be right- people are leaving more and more, and a handful of them want to trim themselves off before their long journey.

The gold mining pan lay on the table and Parker kept looking and looking at it.

There was something strange about it. Could this pan give him gold?

The strange man named Zekel seemed confident in his letter. Confident enough that the gypsy gave him 3 rules to follow.

Rule number one bothered him enough- you must give each piece of gold you find to a person.

Ha! Then what’s the point of getting gold, he thought.

Then again…Moneys used for spending. So technically he would be giving it away eventually.

It was a fun little brain game from the gypsy, thought Parker. How he found himself even amusing the thought of rules and finding gold suddenly became silly.

But what IF it was true, he thought.

“Mr. Jerkins,” he called out into the shop.

There was some rustling up stairs followed by a: “What is it? Another customer at the door?” the old man called back.

“No sir, but I realized I may have to leave for a few days again,” he said.

Suddenly there was sounds of loud stomping getting closer.

Here it comes, thought Parker, readying himself for the old man’s anger.

“I know it aint about that silly gold pan on the table, boy!” yelled Jerkin’s as he stomped his feet down the stairs, his old and tired eyes now awakened by a new youthful anger.

“One last visit, that’s all,” replied Parker.

“One last visit,” laughed the old man sarcastically, “Like hell it is! It’s bad enough I got you living here for practically free, and to leave me with all the work again now the shop is starting to pick up!”

The old man paused, “You’re pushing it fiercely, boy…”.

“Listen, I spent last evening with a gypsy…I got a good feeling about it this time” replied Parker.

Jerkins shook his head, “that’s the LAST sort of person you should bargain with” he told him.

“Please, I gotta, Mr. Jerkins. I know I just came back, but I this time I know it.”

Mr. Jerkins sighed heavily, “You’re an adult. You make your decisions,” he began, now looking into Parker’s eyes, “but know that if you leave now…” the old man paused, “You leave now then don’t expect a place here when you get back.”

Parker became silent and was awed at the old man’s ultimatum. He was hurt.

Parker thought in silence. If he DID find some gold…Mr. Jerkins would be covered and would forgive him.

His eyes drifted towards the gold mining pan on the table, and he could feel the note from Zekel in his jacket pocket which felt 10x heavier than it should.

“I’m leaving, Mr. Jerkins, and I promise you that I’ll find that gold,” he said as he grabbed the pan and began walking out, “You’ll be the first to get a piece!”

The old man walked out to the patio staring at Parker prepping his horse, Charlie.

“You’re a damn fool, Parker,” the old man said, “don’t waste your life away chasing gold, I’m being serious now” he told him.

Parker didn’t reply but strapped down the pan tightly above the sack of the old man’s dried meat he had snuck in to sell.

He hopped onto his horse and took the reins, now riding into the distance as old man Jenkins looked disappointingly.

“A fool,” the old man whispered into the dry air.

It took him 2 days to get back to Copper River. Along the way he collected black berries and acorns along the trip.

He went back to the same spot near the willow tree.

If this was a magic pan, then finding gold where none would be found, would prove it.

He spent most of the day sifting through pebbles, dirt, and sand he found.

He wouldn’t give up the idea that he would find gold, but his faith was diminishing with every rinse of his pan. The heat was nerving him even more.

This can’t be happening, he thought.

It was nearing sunset and Parker knew he had to get fire ready.

He had strapped two poles along the stream that hooked a couple of fish.

The day was a bust, and the pan didn’t seem to work. The night seemed even colder.

He sat next to the fire later that night and looked deep into the flames as he ate small bites of the fish he caught.

“Those damn gypsyies, Charlie…” he said out loud, “Jerkin’s was right…I’m a damn fool!”.

His horse, Charlie, neighed and walked in a circle as if bothered.

Parker looked up and noticed the horse’s strange behavior.

Parker got up thinking there was a snake around, but he didn’t see anything.

Charlies mouth suddenly went for Parker’s cup of tea he made.

“You’re thirsty, boy?” he asked the horse, noticing its long nostrils trying to fit inside the cup.

Parker grabbed the gold mining pan and walked towards the water to fill it up.

As he dipped the pan into the dark water he noticed a spark of light glimmer within the pan.

It had caught him by surprise, but Parker figured it was the fire’s light that somehow shimmered off the pan.

He ignored it and carried the pan towards Charlie to drink.

Parker walked by the fire and noticed a flash again.

There was something in the water that shimmered.

He set the pan down and noticed two pieces of gold glistening inside.

Impossible, thought Parker in awe. He starred in shock to what he saw.

Gold.

Parker figured he would try another river the next day on his way home to see if it was just a coincidence.

A couple days later…

“Yep, I say that’s mighty fine sir,” said the man admiring his bald face after months of travel covered his chin and cheeks with untamed hair.

Percy Jerkins smiled at the compliment. Another satisfied customer.

“How long you staying in town, mister?” asked Jerkins.

The customer took off his bib and began admiring his face closer in the mirror.

“Ah well just passing through, who knows,” the man replied. An grin shyed onto the man’s face but the old man didn’t notice.

Jerkins noticed the man had two guns on his belt, and even saw a hidden knife in the man’s boot.

“You law?” asked the old man. Mark’s town didn’t have any law- it was a passing through trades town.

The man caught the old man’s eyes in the mirror, “in a past life” he smiled showing two teeth missing.

“Well welcome to Mark Town, mister” he told him, somewhat more crackly than the old man would have liked.

The man put on his hat when someone else walked into the shop.

“Hughes, I got some news for ya,” he said.

The law looking man nodded before turning around and thanking Jerkins for the smooth cut. He gave out a couple of coins in payment.

Jerkins nodded his head with a smile. The nerving feeling he had when he saw the man’s weapons was now gone. The man seemed too polite to be trouble, the old man thought.

At the same time the customer walked out, Parker walked in, slightly bumping the man in the shoulder.

Hughes looked at the young man somewhat aggressively. As if the light shoulder tap was a major inconvenience.

Parker noticed the man’s annoyance, “My apologies, sir” he told him.

Hughes looked at old barber, “Your son?” he asked.

Jerkins was surprised to see Parker so soon after he left, and was somewhat soaking in the surprise before snapping into reality, “Uh no, sir, just someone I know,” he replied smiling.

Hughes looked back at the boy right next to him, “He better learn some manners; no one should barge into a place so recklessly” he said before walking away.

Parker ignored the man as he walked inside the shop. A big wide smile hit Parker’s face.

Jerkins looked at him and knew what had happened, “you did not…”

The boy nodded and smiled. He opened up his palm and saw Jerkin’s eyes widen in shock.

Jerkin’s smile stretched as wide as Parker’s.

That night, the saloon’s music turned every man and woman inside into a dancer. After vising the bank, Jerkins cashed in the one piece of gold Parker had brought and the old man bought everyone inside a drink.

Parker didn’t mind, and just laughed and danced.

Inside his pocket was the 2nd piece of he found the following night. Forget the superstitious rules, Parker thought. This one he decided to keep for himself. The 2nd piece was his, thought Parker. The 2nd, the 3rd, the 100th .

Parker gave out a laugh as he danced around the saloon holding on to a woman. One of the newer dancers in the club. A girl named Anna.

It was nearing midnight when Anna brought Parker into the room upstairs.

His head was spinning, but that night had been one of the best nights he’s had in his life.

“You sure are a lucky man to be friends with a rich barber,” the girl smiled, “maybe I’m with the wrong man” she teased.

Parker smiled, “actually I was the one who made Mr. Jerkins rich, I got a magic pan” he laughed. The booze was catching up to him.

Anns fingers slid up Parker’s chest and she tilted her head towards his ear, “mighty fine talent to have, silly boy” she giggled.

Parker seemed to have taken it the wrong way before shuffling up in the bed, “no, no, its the truth, here’s MY piece of gold I found and kept” he began, reaching into his pocket. He grabbed the piece and felt it in his closed palm.

Ann looked at his hand and wondered what it was.

Parker opened his palm, but something happened.

The micro second the vision of gold could hit Ann’s eyes, the piece turned to black dust.

“That’s it?” she drew back, unimpressed, “black sand?” she said.

Parker didn’t know what had happened. He had felt the gold in his pocket, but then it turned to the black dust he had in his hand. The superstitious rules, he thought in shock. They were true. He couldn’t keep any for himself.

Ann laughed and got out of bed, “Your little sand is amusing and all, but I got work to do” she told him before walking out of the room.

Parker laid in bed for a few moments in complete surprise. The gold had disappeared.

He walked down the stairs and noticed the girl Ann all over old man Jerkins at the bar. She was playfully biting his ear as she sat on his lap. They were both laughing.

The whiskey fogged his brain as a wave of jealousy mixed in with it.

Maybe if I give her a piece of gold, he thought, I could get with her.

He could feel the girl’s eyes wonder towards Parker as Jerkins whispered into her ear. She was taunting and teasing Parker. The old man was boozed and laughing.

Suddenly the music died down when the saloon’s door had opened.

Parker recognized the man who came inside- the bald face man from the barber shop that morning.

He stood looking around the saloon with two people behind him.

“Now hey there, don’t stop on my account,” the man named Hughes smiled, showing off two missing teeth, “y’all making me feel uncomfortable” he said.

Parker didn’t know who the man was, but something about him made you freeze in your tracks. Something in his mannerism and behavior. Something that told you: Don’t mess with me.

“I…Said…Don’t…Stop” said Hughs slowly, now showing an expression of irritation.

The music slowly grew louder and everyone began to mingle again, trying hard to pretend that Hughes wasn’t there.

The man sat at the bar next to Jerkins, eying the girl Ann sitting on the old barber’s lap.

Hughes smiled, “why don’t ya sit on a lap a little less soft a limb” the man laughed.

Several of the girls, including Ann, couldn’t help but laugh.

“I like THIS lap, a rich man’s lap” she replied to him as her hands rubbed the old man’s bald head.

Jerkins was clearly too drunk to realize what was going on.

Parker just sat and watched, wondering if he needed to go, but he knew he shouldn’t leave Jerkins. He might say something he’ll regret…Something about the gold.

“The old barber is a rich man now, is he?” smiled Hughs

Anna smiled, “didn’t ya hear, the cashed in some gold and bought everyone here a drink to celebrate”.

Hughes looked at Jerkins the same way a wolf would look at a sheep.

Parker knew it was time to go and went over.

“I think Jerkins had too much to drink tonight folks, I better take him home” said Parker who began to grab the old man’s arms- causing Anna to get off his lap.

“If it isn’t the young boy who pushed me this morning,” said Hughes. An annoyance glazed over his face.

“Now..Now,” began Anna, now hopping onto the Hughes’ lap, “This here boy is supposedly the reason Jerkin’s got rich, ya hear” she laughed.

“Is he…” he replied, watching Parker having trouble lifting the old man onto his feet.

“Says he got a magic pan”

“Quiet, you!” yelled Parker suddenly.

Hughes suddenly got up from the chair in anger, nearly throwing Anna onto the floor.

The music stopped suddenly, and everyone in the saloon felt the tension in the air.

“That’s no way to speak to a lady,” said Hughes with one hand groping his gun holster.

The bartender walked to the counter, “The silly boy don’t mean anything by it, sir” he began, “They is leaving now, so don’t mind them” he said, pouring the man a free drink

Hughes slowly sat back down and Parker found the strength to hobble Jerkins to his feet and get the heck out of there.

He walked up to the old man’s shop and dropped the man onto the bench before rushing his head away to vomit into the street.

“You aren’t looking to great, Mr. Parker” said a strange voice.

At first he thought Hughes had followed him home, but when he lifted his head he noticed who it was- the gypsy, Zekel Vegas.

“What the hell do you want?” wheezed Parker who brushed the remaining vomit from his lips.

The gypsy man stood straight and looked at him.

Parker almost thought he was dreaming until the man replied: “You wanted gold, so I gave it to you” he told him.

“You’re the devil” whispered Parker.

There it was. The smile on the gypsy’s face. That creepy, devilish, smile.

“Rule number 3, Mr. Parker” spoke Zekel, “You are forgetting rule number 3”.

Parker then remembered the rule: You must pan for gold every single day.

It was almost sunrise, thought Parker, and he could only pan at night it seems.

“What happens if I don’t?” asked Parker. A fear tingling down his spine.

“Then you’ll regret it” spoke the gypsy.

The young man looked at Jerkins, who was passed out on the bench. Things were fine before the gold, thought Parker.

The young man looked back to the street only to see the gypsy had disappeared.

A ringing suddenly shot through Parker’s ears. A loud and painful ring.

It was getting louder and louder.

Parker ran into the house covering his ears as he felt blood tingle down them.

He started screaming frantically, looking around for the source.

He found it- The gold mining pan.

He grabbed it and began running to the nearest river. Any river.

The ringing suddenly sounded like millions of people screaming in pain.

Parker nearly jumped into the water before sloshing the pan into pebbles and stones.

The glimmer again. He took the pan out of the water and suddenly the painful noised had stopped.

He stood there crying as blood trickled down his ear lobes.

He looked at the pieces of gold when suddenly a rooster crowed form town. It was morning.

He then noticed them. A group of men watching him.

“My my, looks like that young girl wasn’t lying” said Hughes, “you do have a magic pan” he smiled.

One of his partner’s smiled, “Looks like you were right boss, that gypsy man was right- we found the promised land”.

“We found ourselves the promised land,” repeated Hughes in delight.

Parker’s eyes were glazed in fear. Gypsy man? Had they met that gypsy devil, Zekel?

Parker looked in fear as he watched Hughes and his men laugh. Flies were buzzing around them. All of them had a shimmering in their eyes- obsessively starring at the gold in the pan.

Hughes began walking into the water towards the boy: “In this here new promised land, my boy, you’ve found the devil”.