Mushroom

The mushroom didn’t amount to much. It was just a small little toadstool with a white top-cap, speckled with a few green flecks. Most people in the park walked right past it, never even noticing, but not Brian. Brian was a very unique young boy.  He noticed everything. 

From several yards away, his mother watched for a few impatient moments as her son squatted in the grass, staring intently at some small object. “Brian, what are you doing? Come on. We have to go,” she said with more than a hint of irritation.

“Mom, not yet. Come look.”
“Brian, come on. We don’t have time to waste on unimportant stuff.
“But mom…”
“Brian, come now.”

Brian reluctantly obeyed. He stood, took one last look at the mushroom, then walked away. As they left the park, walking quickly toward the car, Brian’s mom was grumbling about how kids didn’t understand adult responsibilities. She didn’t have time for nonsense. Some people seemed to find blessings all the time, but not her.  She had to work hard for every thing she got.

By the time they were buckled in the car, the mushroom exploded with a cloud of golden spores.  As Brian’s mom cranked the car, the gold dust was settling on the blades of grass below.  Before they were completely out of the parking lot, several blades of grass beneath the mushroom had turned to solid 24 karat gold.  Brian looked out the window of the car as they sped away, but he couldn’t really see anything now.  His mother had her eyes on the road, her mind on her job, and they were moving too fast.