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to yank one of his father’s drawers out looking for something valuable when he furiously grabbed her arm.
     
    “We ain’t come here to tear up my pop’s crib,” he snarled at her. “We’re just looking for one thing. One thing that belongs to me, and we’ll be set.”
     
    “So where the hell is it?” She ripped her arm away from him.
     
    He held a finger up for her to keep her mouth shut and allow him to think. He went to the first place he remembered seeing his father with it, near the bed. He groaned as he got down on his good knee to look underneath the bed, only to find slippers and some dust bunnies. He used the bed to pull himself back up and sat on the end of it. He calmly cast an eye over the room again as an impatient Rosemary with her arms folded stood watching him. His eyes first turned to the closet, but then shifted to the large oak dresser in front of the bed.
     
    As if drawn, he painfully rose to his feet and hobbled over to it. He ran his hand over the dresser as if searching for a secret button or lever to push or pull.
     
    “Help me move this out the way.”
     
    Rosemary rolling her eyes sauntered over to get her best grip on the heavy piece of furniture. With very little strength between the two of them they awkwardly pulled and pushed it out of the way to reveal an old vent behind it. His stomach went on a rampage along with his heart as he went down once again with a groan on his good knee. He gripped the unsecured vent pulling it out of its place and set it aside. A part of him prayed when he reached in that he would find nothing. This prayer would not be answered as his hand touched cloth and something hard underneath.
     
    He closed his eyes as he gripped it pulling it out.
     
    “What it is?” Rosemary curiously hovered over him. “What did you find?”
     
    He ignored her as he opened his eyes realizing it was truly in his hand. He moaned as he used the dresser as leverage to help him back to his feet. Leaning up against the bedroom furniture, he slowly began to remove the old burlap cloth that covered it.
     
    Rosemary’s eyes almost rolled out of their sockets from bulging as they bore witness to what he had uncovered.
     
    It was a good eight to nine inches in length. The head was shaped in the image of a large king cobra with a sun dial attached to the back of its hood. Parts of the shaft and crescent moon-shaped base were forged from what appeared to be pure gold, while other parts of the shaft and sundial were constructed from dark red crystal or gemstone. Two small gems similar in color were the eyes of the cobra. Laurence’s eyelids shut halfway as what seemed like an unknown light within the red crystal of the staff emitted a faint glow, mesmerizing him.
     
    “Holy shit,” she beamed. “What is that?”
     
    “My pops called it the Staff of the Ancients,” he shook from his trance and gave it a proper look. “When I was about nine, I walked past here with the door shut. I thought I heard him talking to someone, so I opened his door and saw him holding this. He had a face like I wasn’t suppose to see it. He then called me into his room, sat me down, and told me that all he could say at that time was it was a family heirloom passed down to the first born of every generation of my family. He said one day when I was old enough and ready, he would pass it down to me, and tell its full story. Until then he made me promise not to look for it around the house or tell anyone about it. Something about it and him on that day scared the shit out of me. I kept my promise and didn’t go looking for it or tell anyone about it until now.”
     
    “Looks more like a scepter than a staff,” she analyzed it with a tilt of her head. “This thing must be worth a friggin fortune!”
     
    “It’s worth something …worth more than his own damn son.”
     
    Anger began to build within him as he clutched the scepter tighter. Concern fell on Rosemary’s face as she placed a hand