Eddington Mental Espresso 

After Joe left, we started the clean up. Otecko had only told us that he had passed the, whatever it was, to our cousin Michael in the marines. He wouldn’t tell us what it was, only that it was safe in the heart of America’s military.

Joe wasn’t happy, but you can’t argue once Otecko sets his mind. Joe set about figuring out how to protect the family, and I was full of nervous energy. Otecko was quiet, and that’s what terrified me.

It was a strange quiet, he was second guessing himself. I tried to reassure him. “You did what you thought was best. I’m sure we’re in good hands with Joe and the E.P.D. looking out for us. “I’m not worried about us Tomáš, but the countries of my birth.”

“If someone is after the králi poklad, that means they’re after more. Every dictator wants symbols to convince those he imprisons that he cannot be defeated. This means they will not try. To whoever it may be, the králi poklad, is the velvet glove for an iron fist.”

I looked it up when I got home, but the internet didn’t have anything that helped. I also text Michael, and cryptically told him what happened. Then I asked what it was.

He text back. “Don’t no, never saw it, never asked. Once he gave it to me, I buried it in the sands.” “Was it in a box or something? How could you not see it?” 

Michael has a odd sense of humor, and loves riddles. Instead of answering like a normal person, he responded the way I was afraid he would. When I read it, I could imagine that sly grin on his face when he got my goat.  

“In a container, but not a box. One that’s empty til filled up.” I hate riddles, I obsess over them. They’re like a mental espresso to me. Which is why I couldn’t get to sleep for a half hour after laying down, but not the reason I was up again in an hour. No, that was because of the car that rammed through the front gate, that ended any plans for rest I had.

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