‘Can you imagine? Making your own money?’
Eoin, the young sheep herder, was thinking.
He had seen in town, when he went with his father to the animal market, in a large sparkling window a man creating gold coins right under your eyes. He was working slowly, under the amazed eyes of onlookers charmed by his skill, and attracted by the value of the coins shining in front of them.
Eoin could not linger for too long as his work was calling. His hard, physical work among the loud sheep, crossing the town under the frustrated glances of the townspeople.
They always made him feel like he was doing something wrong, and that he needed to disappear quickly from their view so as not to bother them.
Later that night, sat on his nice smelling straw mattress, young Eoin thought back at the Goldsmith, revered and admired by everybody, sitting there in the window, surrounded by gold coins, having everything nobody in Eoin’s world had.
‘Wouldn’t it be wonderful if, when I grew up, I could be just like that? Rich and admired, everyone wanting to see me, no more sheep smell, just fancy, clean clothes …’, Eoin looked at the starry sky, chose a star, and in the quiet night said a prayer for his future, hoping against hope, that somehow, when he grew up he could become something else.
* * *
The Goldsmith pulled down the blinds, and then, painfully got up from his work chair.
No matter how comfortable the chair was, his back still hurt after so many hours of sitting in it, stooped over his desk, painstakingly engraving coin after coin.
The less valuable coins were created, with the help of a machine, in the back of the shop, but the truly valuable ones, the ones the richest people wanted, he still had to handcraft, that little stamp that he added making them outstanding.
The Goldsmith gathered all the coins he had worked on, carried them to a large metal box pinned into a wall, and locked them inside with several loud locks. Then, he masked the metal box with a heavy, velvet curtain in front of which he placed a large, heavy, metal vase filled with dry flowers.
When this was done, he went back to the window and behind the blinds he pulled, and firmly shut, heavy, wooden shutters, completely hidden by the soft blinds, so much so that, from the outside, nobody would have thought that the window was in any way protected.
Then he went to the front door, locked it three times, barred it with a heavy metal bar which he placed right across it, and then, finally he put a heavy chair against it.
The Goldsmith did a check round to all the windows, which were unusually small, and all had heavy, wooden shutters well locked, so much so that no bit of light or draft of air ever came though. The small house had a hidden back door, for use of the proprietor only, and the Goldsmith ensured that it was well locked and barred also.
Once all the checks were completed the Goldsmith was exhausted and too tired to eat, so he just changed his clothes, washed his face and then fell into his large, comfy bed.
Once he was under the covers, he stood really still, waiting to see if there were any unusual noises, but then, slowly, in the quiet stillness, his body relaxed and he managed to fall asleep, in his comfy bed, in his well locked house, without any draft of air or ray of light, sleeping a very light sleep, always listening to the house around him.