The man with the pipe considered this. This was not, then, a thrill-seeker. At least, not a cheap thrill-seeker. No. This one had layers. This one, as they said, was more than met the eye.
He knew Riley was not telling him everything. Who spilled their guts to a stranger? No one. That's who.
The man nodded. "Dreadfully loud, some of it, isn't it?" He smiled, then, a very genuine smile. As if on cue, passengers on the Music Xpress, a loud, gravity-driven ride, all shrieked at the command of the ride operator.
He withdrew a small box from a display case to his left and set it on the table.
"In my travels, I often give my wares away," he said. "I guess you could say I've a call. Right thing with right person." He removed the pipe from his mouth and gestured with his hands, both moving together, trying to signify two different parts that were the same.
"I believe," the man said, "that this belongs to you, now."
He slid the box across the table.
Inside the box, which was initially meant for a ring, was a two-headed nickel minted in 1981. It was worth quite a bit, for it being such a mistake. But it wouldn't fetch much except with a coin collector worth his or her salt.