Gremlins and Fairies

How superstition trumps reality and mere fables survive generations

I have a plan when I return to Panama. My neighbor up the way has gold buried in his yard. Yep, real gold buried years ago to hide it from the Spanish. He has sworn me to secrecy, but pretty sure y’all could never trek to his spot in the jungle.

One day he came by the house to borrow my metal detector (I think it’s the only one in Panama) to see if he could get to the treasure before the gremlins move it…again. Every time he locates a spot, they shift it away from the hole faster than he can dig. Every time we’d get a good tone, by the time he digs deep enough, all we find is a clavo de concreto or some other iron junk and the gold is gone…Mostly the gremlins would leave a nail. Superstition is deep in the interior. Old ways are slow to die, especially with these oral superstitions passed on like a religious legacy. I have a plan…

Maybe I’m too cruel, but I’m fashioning a few these small doors to cut into some trees on his property. You think he’ll appreciate my sense of humor?