With every chore finished, he was always a few cents closer to what brought his heart to patter faster and his fingers to twitch. He had cut out that advertisement with such precision, he had even been allowed to use the sharp scissors from the kitchen with real metal blades. His own in his red Snoopy bag were plastic and were made only for pretend. With the last unperfect fray cut from its edge, he took that advertisement and with soft strokes of glue found a single wrapped piece of black cardboard to paste it upon. He pressed and he smoothed out any air bubbles and wrinkles. Then in a glorious achievement, he was able to use from his father’s workbench with very little supervision, the small bottle of sealant with a skull and crossbones. He made sure not to breathe in the fumes and he washed his hands three times afterwards. He was careful to watch the sky that day for any sign of rain, the sealant had smelled so bad that picture of the spaceship cruiser had to air outside. The day remained perfect with a dry, blue sky and into the early night right before he went to bed. Then he let his dad raise him up by his legs and he pressed the clothespin open and carefully with one hand he took the picture down with him. Delicately with a tack he pinned it to the very center of his cork board. Every morning and night, like it was the Madonna, he touched that picture and prayed that he’d have enough money soon.

Finally, the day had come. He looked at the small notebook he had kept. Each entry of every quarter or dime was written there. Some pages in the back were torn out and he had gone to collect from his brother and sister any loans he had given. His father had promised to take him to the bank to change all those coins into slim bills. His godmother had given him her recently deceased husband’s billfold. So, he had every thing he needed to go down to T’s Model Store. Or so the thought. He sat on his bed with that heavy piggy bank cradled between his two spindly legs. It had been made by his nana and faced him smiling with big black eyes. She always had a smile and her black eyes were triple their size through her thick glasses. The tail was a five circled spiral. It reminded him of those pastel print blouses she wore everyday. The feet were thick, wrinkled little slabs. He remembered her ankles were always swollen with her support stockings pinched in at least three rings. On the back was the slot where all the coins had been dropped, it was made so perfectly that coins could never fall out. It held everything perfectly, just like his nana’s arms. They were no longer there, he had seen her slip from him in that white, white room with the beeping machines. He held that treasure made by her, it held the trove to what he really wanted. A heart with two desires. Either way one destroyed the other. And that was the very first quandary of his life.

He began to save again, all those new coins in a re-sealable food bag. The piggy bank stayed on the nightstand next to his bed, his hands began to rub it morning and night. Sometimes he said little prayers to whomever might be listening, Nana or God or the Blessed Virgin Mary. He hoped at least one of them was listening. While across the room on the pinboard, that picture so carefully preserved began to gather dust, fade a bit from the direct sun. A thunderstorm breeze caught it one evening and pulled it off and away. It lay forgotten behind his dresser until the day he moved out to college. After half a year he had a list which he wrote in his very practiced cursive of the things he’d like to buy with the money he saved. That star cruiser long forgotten, or long for an eight year old. Every few months, the list changed and most of those coins went for candy anyway. But that piggy bank moved from shelf to shelf, from house to dorm to apartment and back to a house again. Always rubbed by his hands or caressed with his fingers, it never lost its shine. Its treasure still intact.