The Family Chain
The gaping hole in our backyard was my father’s retirement fund. There was gold down there somewhere; his father and grandfather had sworn on it.
It started with ten grand pirated from my college savings for digging equipment and from then on yielded a steady -20% return on investment until his bankrupt deathbed.
“I failed,” he told me. “Finish the work. Find my gold.” And I felt the heavy chain being passed to me.
I waited until after his final breath to put down that chain forever. I couldn’t let him see me do it. It would have killed him.