Dale and I had just gotten married, and we had not expected (nor were prepared for) this when we bought the house. It was a fixer-upper; we expected that. It was on the edge of town and a commute from both our jobs. He, a records keeper at the police station. I, a prep cook during the day and a starving artist at night. We had expected all of this. And together, two weeks after we had signed the papers, we'd chosen to plant our marigolds.
It was a beautiful day; sunshine, birds singing, the whole nine yards. Dale was sitting criss-cross, his glasses perched low on his nose, finishing his breakfast croissant. I pushed my trowel into the ground and struck something hard with a 'clang.' Dale winced, murmuring something about a "gas pipe," but I didn't listen. There was a spark in my chest, something telling me to dig deeper.
Gold glimmered in the morning light, so brilliant it burnt my eyes and glinted off Dale's glasses. I threw down my trowel, and pulled toward the gold, my fingers scratching at the smooth metallic surface—a crown. Despite having been buried, it had a polished gleam, as if it had been sitting in a case at the museum.
Dale walked over, finally finishing his sandwich. "It has to be a toy, right?"
But I was mesmerized by it. And it was heavy. "Can we try floating it in some water? I feel like that would only work with, like, necklaces?"
Dale ran his fingers across it, and his hazel eyes snagged mine. Maybe he had that same spark in his chest that I did when he saw it. "Um. Should we take this to a jewelry store to get it checked?"
I looked out at the neighborhood. It was a cross-hatching of asphalt streets dotted by small clapboard houses. There couldn't live a king out there, could there?
"I don't see why not," I said, shaking my head 'no.' Everything in my body screamed that we needed to put it away. Hide it somewhere. Anything but have a glass lens trained on the smooth gold surface. And yet, chills prickled my back—so much money. And we needed money.
"Y..yeah..." Dale said, but he, too, was shaking his head 'no.'
"How about we put it in the attic?" I asked, and his eyes lit up.
"Yes!" He ran up the back porch, his collared shirt ducktail-ing out of his slacks. I hadn't seen Dale wear jeans in years. I chased him into the house, past our boxes and tarp-covered floors, and up into the attic. We hadn't been inside since we signed the papers, and it was still filled with boxes from the last owner. It smelled like dust and mothballs and a little bit of dampness. Dale clicked the lightbulb on.
I placed the heavy crown down on the floor. Dale picked up a thick tome; it was one I didn't remember seeing last time I was in the attic. He started flipping through it manically, and I watched him. The light glinting off his glasses. His eyes flew back and forth as he read. "Well, if we found it here, then maybe something in here with tell us about it."
It was an answer to a question I hadn't even asked him. "And it'll be in a...random book?"
A letter fell out of the tome. I picked it up, read it quickly, and breathed in deeply. "It's cursed, Dale."
Dale, a horror buff, took it in stride. "Well, this house did get sold a few times. Every five years. And we did get a really good deal."
"We gotta get rid of this."
"Beach vacation?"
"It'll probably wash up on the shore and curse someone else."
"What's wrong with cursing someone else?"
"Dale!" I 'tsk'ed, and he rolled his eyes, still smiling.
"Okay, we can just...put it back."
I looked at Dale. Didn't blink. He lifted his hands in surrender.
"Sell it?"
"No way, it'll go 'The Pearl' on our ass."
"Okay. Okay. I guess we have to return it to the king." He flipped the book around, showing a dark outline with a wax crown scrawled on the head.
"Dale?" My voice cracked.
"There's an address. I know its silly. But it's from an old country that's now in England. And we're going on our honeymoon, soon. If we can just keep it safe for a week we can--"
There was a knock on the door. The book dropped to the attic floor with a dusty thud. I grabbed the crown and squeezed it tightly in my hands, my heart screeching in my chest. The knock came again, louder now. I scooted beside him on the floor, pressing as close to him as I could. And then there was a crack! A crash as what had to be the door hit the ground.
"We know you have it!"
I squeezed the crown to my chest. Dale's face was pale white. 'Give it to them' he mouthed.
I stood up and walked to the porthole window; I don't know why I did it. I don't know why I cared so much to protect something that was very literally cursed. Perhaps it was the curse itself that animated me to throw it.
"Amanda!" Dale whisper-shouted, those eyes bulging and wild. "What are you doing?"
I heard them tramping around below. It wouldn't be long before they found the attic stairs and dragged us out. We had one chance; fight until one of the neighbors called the police for us. I grabbed one of the boxes, motioning with my head for Dale to do the same. His eyes were wet with tears and it broke my heart.
I peered down. There were three men down there, all in black. It was hard to tell, but from here, I thought I saw the shape of a gun on the mens' hips. They came closer. They shouted. I nodded once at Dale as the men started their climb, and we threw down the boxes. We turned it into a barrage. Every ancient tennis racket, every scary doll, every basket of moth-eaten floral dresses.
They howled. A shot rang out and Dale slammed me to the wall, his chest heaving. I grabbed a golf club beside me, hearing the creaking of the stairs, the stamping from the footsteps.
And the scream of sirens.
"I-it's your friends," I whispered. "They're coming to help us."
"I just want to be in England. I just want to be England. I just..."
I had been practicing my swing for the beautiful greens that Dale had promised me would cover his homeland. I pushed Dale off of me, and when the head appeared, I aimed for the whites of the eye. I imagined a golf ball, the glitter of dewy grass, and swing!
The man screamed and fell down the stairs. Thump. Thump. Thump.
The sirens were loud now, directly outside the house. I smiled weakly at Dale. "It'll sure be an adventure of a honeymoon."
