Worm Hunt
by Jack L. Bryson

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Patrick dug in the dirt in his backyard. He turned up the soil with a spade. He had a dirt clot in hand. Half a worm was squirming from the dirt clot. Pat gently pinched the end of the worm and pulled it free. He looked the worm over and then dropped it in a jar next to him.

    Patrick scooped up some dirt and dropped it in the jar with his worms. He fastened the lid back on the jar and then punched holes in the lid with a rusty nail. The worms wiggle about in the sunlight. Patrick picked up the jar and ran around the side of his house. There was mud on his knees.

    On the other side of the house were bushes. Pat crawled through a hole in the bushes. He held the jar of worms in his hand like a football. On the other side of the bushed was the property. It was a large forest. Pat ran through the woods. The pines trees were tall and brown.

    In the middle of the woods was an old fountain. It was made of stone. It was empty. At the bottom of the fountain there were pennies, but Pat had collected all of them and put them in a jar.

    Pat stood next to the fountain. It was his favorite place. He looked around him. He sat down and leaned against the fountain looking at his worms. The wiggled as Pat turned the jar over in his hands.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Hey, I see you have a new treasure,” Remy observed.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s not for you,” Pat replied.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I don’t want worms.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’m still not giving you the pennies.” Remy took of his bowler’s hat and wiped the sweat off his forehead. It was a hot day. He looked at Pat and scratched his red beard.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ve got a secret,” Remy said. Pat glanced at the leprechaun. “I know where you can find a giant worm.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“How giant?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you see that tree branch?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes,” said Pat.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“It’s a worm as big as that.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Wow.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“If I tell you where it is, how many pennies will you give me?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“I’ll give you three pennies.” Remy scratched his beard. Then, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a map. He handed it to Patrick. Patrick unfolded the map and looked it over.

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Do you read?” Remy asked.
    
    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Yes I can read.”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“Well?”

    Ã¢â‚¬Å“We have a deal,” Patrick said. He folded up the map and stuffed it into his pocket.