Free Carats and Coconuts by D. D. Scott

own
rock sacks full of ‘em.
    The gem trade breeds an entirely
different kind of terror. And I’m about to put an end to it…or at
least the part of it I know how to stop.
    Now you might think that, in order to
do such work, you’d find me in the Middle East or perhaps North
Korea or somewhere in Africa.
    No dice…I’m in Michigan.
    Here along the fabulous shores of Lake
Michigan, it may be the end of the holiday season, but deep below
the snow-covered earth of our Winter Wonderland, it looks like
Christmas forever in my parent’s underground gem vault. Or if not
that, it could be the main warehouse for all the high-priced, fancy
jewels you see dangling and dripping from every jeweler’s ad on
your television screen.
    People may think my parents are just a
crazy couple who believe they’re Santa and Mrs. Claus. And for
those of you who’ve heard about our typical Hullabaloo and Holly
Too holidays, the crazy couple bit might, on the surface at least,
seem true.
    But under my dad’s Santa Claus
Workshop, through a secret entrance in the floorboards, lies the
Witherspoon & Witherspoon gem vault, which makes The
Smithsonian’s stone-stash seem paltry by comparison.
    While a lake effect blizzard is
blowin’ outside, things are really heating up down
there…

Chapter Two
     
    “I just can’t believe one rogue elf could steal anything from this
fortress.”
    Those were the words spoken by my
prince and fake husband, Prince Roman Bellesconi Umberto-Vittorio
Emanuele Vanvitelli, while stepping through the fourth solid,
anti-drilling and cutting, magnesium and concrete-embedded door
leading into our vault’s main room.
    “ Let alone The Witherspoon
Blue Moon Diamond, and now your Precious Aquamarine
too!”
    I couldn’t believe it
either.
    But it was true.
    “ What bothers me more,” I
said, placing the coconut that contained our Blue Moon Diamond on
one of my parent’s cutting tables, “is why the hell did he give the
diamond back?”
    “ Are you sure it actually is
our diamond?”
    I heard my mother’s voice before I saw
her.
    But I couldn’t see her at all now. All
the vault’s lights had gone out.
    Roman grabbed my hand and used his
body to shield mine.
    “ Easy. Everything is fine,”
my mother’s voice created a much-needed sense of calm.
    All at once, our Blue Moon Diamond
began to glow with an intense orange-red
phosphorescence.
    “ It’s our diamond all right,” I said, sort
of relieved and sort of scared even more.
    “ How do you know?” Roman
asked.
    “ Orange-red phosphorescence
is almost exclusively limited to dark blue diamonds,” I said, as
the lights in the vault came back on.
    “ That said, this effect is
never as intense with other stones as it is with our Witherspoon
Blue Moon. She’s indeed a rarer-than-rare blue beauty,” Mom said,
effectively completing Roman’s first gemology lesson.
    “ And you can only see the
phosphorescence in a dark room, using exposure to ultraviolet
light,” my dad piped-in as he joined us in the vault’s main cutting
chambers.
    “ You’re right then, Plum
Puddin’,” Roman said. “Why would Stanley give back The Blue
Moon?”
    “ First, I’m usually right.
Second, Stanley has major issues besides his dwarfism,” I said,
thinking that was as good a place as any to start explaining my
theory about our rogue elf. Plus, I couldn’t resist teasing Roman
about my golden gut instincts.
    “ What kinds of issues?”
Roman asked, his Dark Knight aura giving the word ‘issues’ a very
sinister undertone.
    Actually, Stanley’s size was a benefit
in this biz. He could get away with a lot that the rest of us
couldn’t, but more on that later.
    “ Let’s just say there’s a
major connection to our Blue Moon being contained in this
packaging,” I said, knocking my knuckles on top of the coconut’s
hard shell.
    “ Go on,” Roman
said.
    As his protection mode kicked into
high gear, his sentences always got more and more staccato, which
meant I