“Mom! Mom!”
Marcella looked from her coffee cup to the kitchen doorway with a sigh.
“Mommy!”
She took a long sip before calling out, “In here!”
A few seconds later two children came tumbling through the doorway, a pre-school aged girl with bright red hair followed by a toddler with wispy, strawberry blond curls. The girl was cradling something gently in her hands.
“What is it, Bea?”
“Pirate beads!” the girl exclaimed.
“Shiny,” her younger brother Jules added helpfully.
“Those sound pretty. Did you bring them to show me?”
Bea held out her hands. Marcella stared in surprise. She’d been expecting a handful of rocks from the garden, not two golden orbs. She plucked one from her daughter’s hand and nearly gasped at the weight.
“Where did these come from?”
“The pirate treasure chest.”
Marcella took a deep breath and forced herself to keep a calm expression. She had no idea what these things could be or where they came from, but the one she held certainly looked like gold and was awfully heavy. Obviously they weren’t pirate treasure, that was impossible. Still, they had to be from something.
“Show me.”
Her children led her outside, past their small lawn, swings, and flower beds, into the trees and bushes. Marcella looked around nervously, knowing that if her children had found these in their backyard then someone must have hidden them there.
Jules darted forward to a large mulberry bush and pushed its lower branches aside. Underneath Marcella saw a ragged cardboard box and inside it the soft glow of several more golden ovals. Grouped together she recognized them as eggs, though unlike any she’d seen before.
She crouched down and picked one up. It was just as heavy as the one she carried. Impossibly heavy to be a real egg. She suddenly grew very uneasy about the visit their strange neighbor had made two days ago looking for a missing goose. They’d promised an insanely high reward for any news. She set the eggs back down.
“Let’s put them back for now.”
This was inspired by the #freewrite prompt by 
Image by Alizee Marchand.
