Eleven Pennies on the Lock Beam
Ravi spent every summer morning with his uncle, who kept the canal lock at Marsh End. The lock was a stone box full of water with a heavy wooden gate at each end. A boat floated in, the gates closed, and the water rose or fell to lift the boat to the next stretch of canal.
One Monday, Ravi found a penny lying on the long wooden beam of the lower gate. On Tuesday there were three. On Wednesday there were seven. Nobody in town admitted to leaving them.
"Someone is counting something," Ravi said.
He looked for clues. The pennies sat in a neat row, and the beam around them was damp. The winding handle for the gate hung on the wrong hook, and its grip was smeared with canal mud. His uncle always hung it on the left hook.
"Uncle Osei, does anyone work the lock at night?"
"Only the boat crews," said his uncle. "When I am asleep, they wind the gates themselves, and they leave a penny to say thank you."
Then Ravi understood. "One penny for each boat!" On Thursday morning there were eleven, because a crowd of boats had come home from the harbor festival upriver.
Ravi started a tally on the lockhouse wall. At the end of summer, they used the pennies to buy a can of bright green paint for the gates.