Riches

Under the bridge they bartered teeth, never asking whose.

Coughing a bet into a cupped hand, Trevor threw a raise into the pit. He brushed a crease out of his suit and wondered how the game ended.

“This isn't working,” Sutherby was poking at the teeth in his palm. “We need something better, you know?”

Trevor scratched his nose. “Bullets? Plenty of them lying around.”

“Too many, doesn't work. What about leaves, not so many of them, right?”

A red leaf washed past in a trickle of floodwater. Looking at it tugged at a man's reason. How long had it been fall now? When did falling stop?

Trevor looked away. “Not enough.”

A ragged, dejected figure emerged from the night, like a murder had spat out a scarecrow. Earl pulled up a trashcan and sat with them, weary. “What are we working on today?”

Teeth rattled in Sutherby's fist. “Money.”

Earl winced. “Good, if the body were meant to make us rich, we'd have prospered. Not this...”

They put the game aside to put the world to rights. As the great men of what remained, it was upon them to set things so.

After a lengthy silence, Earl threw out some suggestions. “Stones? Pebbles with different colours, perhaps?”

Sutherby shrugged. “All burnt black now.”

Hesitating, Trevor pondered instead the value of a promise, or a debt. “How about favours? I'm sure there's a religious precedent.”

“You're thinking of indulgences,” Earl scowled. “They were monetised for a while. Interesting times.”

Sutherby rubbed his chin. “Could be onto something, though. Progress, from paper to flesh.”

Earl was poking at the small fire by their side. “Hard to make stick.”

Flesh could turn. Spoil. Skin could even unmake its own worth. Trevor thought of the scarred woman he'd followed down the alley last night, and inched away from the fire.

It crackled. Spitting at them.

“Twigs,” Trevor said, after a longer pause. “Pale to black. The further they are from the old world the greater the value.”

Sutherby gestured expansively. “They're all black.”

“Only here. Closer to the fires.”

Earl spat. “So the further out you are the poorer you'll be. Is that fair?”

Trevor frowned. “Your children are sick, is that fair?”

“All the children are sick.”

Trevor ignored that. His boys were starving. Kindness was not reserved for all children. That had to be the first law, or there wouldn't be anyone left to make the next. Someone had to climb the ribs, or they were bared for nothing.

“We'll restore order here,” he explained, “then it will spread out. Calmly.”

“Evenly?”

Trevor nodded. Then he looked around. Why, there were some black twigs right at his feet. “Look,” he said, giddily. “Just look will you!”

Sutherby had fallen to his knees. “It works. It's right. We're rich!”

Earl started to grab fistfuls, his mouth was hanging open with a delirious smile. “Oh! They're everywhere!”

No. Not everywhere. Trevor pocketed his black twigs and relaxed. It could all be as it was.

“We're rich!” he cried.

We're rich.