 |
| What the heck is this thing? |
Patty stared at the treasure in her hand. "What the hell is an OPA?" She opened her phone and looked it up.
Huh. The US Office of Prince Administration used them to freeze prices during World War II. The tokens were used for rationing. The red ones were mostly used for meats. Cool.
The black and white photograph revealed the eagle on his epaulets. Again, Wikipedia to the rescue. Colonel. Nice.
She sat down on an overturned milk crate amidst the dust and silence of her great-grandmother's attic. Several months after the funeral, only a smattering of boxes remained in storage. The downstairs furniture had already been distributed to the extended family. Here, in this third to last box, was a collection of card cases and notebooks.
Patty flicked open the next case. This picture was off a...hmm...three bars up, one down. According to her research, a staff Sargent. On the back was "5/10" but there were ten blue tokens.
She flipped open a random yellowed notebook. "Nice cock, but much too fast." The phrase caught her eye. Patty giggled. "Maman, you minx!" A box full of souvenirs and ratings on old lovers. Oh, this find was hers and hers alone. For years, Patty had been been the black sheep of their family with her free-love attitude. Nice to know she came from *somewhere* along the family tree. No one else was in the attic with her. She slid the old box into a new one, taped it shut, pulled the cap off a Sharpie and wrote, "Recycling" on the side.
Soft-footed, she tip-toed down the stairs, took the box directly to her car, put it in the truck, covered it with a blanket. She and great-grandmother were going to have a good sharing of secrets tonight!
