I’m Trapped in a Cube - 77

Midas did not realize that the price had already arrived.

He still went to the olive grove every day as if nothing had happened, greeted his neighbors as usual, and ate dinner at home on time.

Everything was perfectly normal-or so he thought.

He was also very careful to control the amount of gold he sold, to avoid drawing attention.

He always used different workers each time.

Sometimes, he would even sell to savvy tourists visiting the island, saying his family was struggling and offering it at a cheap price.

At home, he told his family that the money was tips he earned from helping others repair equipment on the side, using it bit by bit to supplement household expenses.

Of course, the simplest way was just to spend the money: he replaced all the equipment in his olive grove and even bought a new engine for his old car.

He often felt proud of his caution, but this also caused the price to start accumulating…

One day, the family’s old dog Jones died, and everyone was deeply saddened and in pain.

Old dog Jones had been a gift from Midas to his wife when they were still dating, and had accompanied them for many years.

Jones was very intelligent, even saving Midas’s daughter once, and had always been there for Midas’s elderly mother before passing away.

You could say old dog Jones was an inseparable part of the family.

They even held a simple funeral for Jones, burying him deep in the olive grove.

During this period, Midas did his best to handle everything, comfort his family, and thoughtfully put away all of Jones’s belongings.

But on the day, he put Jones’s photo frame into a box, a question suddenly arose in his mind:

“What is the point of doing this?”

Why was he putting the photo frame away? Midas suddenly couldn’t understand his own actions.

He set down the photo frame and sat in a chair, zoning out.

His wife, seeing his dazed look, thought he was overcome with grief and came over to hug his head, comforting him.

But Midas felt her actions were a bit exaggerated.

He pushed away his nagging wife; her words meant nothing to him.

He picked up his car keys and left. That night, he had plans to drink and watch the game at the bar with friends.

At the bar, Midas watched the people around him cheer wildly for a goal, or groan in disappointment when their team lost.

He sat in his chair, drinking a strange, tasting “beverage,” feeling lost.

After a last-minute comeback, Midas’s friends pulled him up to jump with them, but he felt like a puppet, dangling in midair, manipulated at will.

When the match ended and the crowd dispersed, Midas groggily got into his car and drove home.

However-

Bang!

A violent crash suddenly startled him.

Midas was terrified, didn’t check the noise, and didn’t get out of the car-he just drove home and went straight to sleep.

The next morning, a knock woke Midas from deep sleep.

His wife, with dark circles under her eyes, anxiously opened the door.

“Mrs. Midas? We’ve found your daughter.”

The uniformed police officer stood at the door, full of regret. Midas’s wife pushed past him and ran out of the house.

When Midas saw his daughter again, it was in the morgue at the hospital, with his wife clinging to him, crying non-stop.

“We’ll catch the hit-and-run criminal as soon as possible,” the police promised Midas.

After taking his wife home, Midas went to the garage and calmly began cleaning his car.

After some knocking and hammering, the barely visible dents disappeared.

Through selling gold, Midas had met many shady characters; the next day, he sold his old car at a cheap price to one of them.

Then he devoted himself to arranging his daughter’s funeral, just as he had for old dog Jones.

He mechanically comforted his wife, then packed away everything related to his daughter in a box.

People and dogs. there didn’t seem to be much difference.

A few days later, Midas’s elderly mother hanged herself in her room, having been plagued by guilt.

She blamed herself for not watching her granddaughter while making a late-night snack, for not warning her not to go out so late, for not calling the police in time, for not searching in the right direction…

Another funeral. This time, Midas could only comfort his wife-there were just the two of them left.

As usual, Midas packed away everything related to his mother in a box.

The next morning, he greeted the neighbors, went to the olive grove, and came home in the evening, telling his wife he needed to repair equipment.

Midas felt nothing different.

One day, his wife rushed into the garage and demanded to know what he was doing.

She saw the piles of gold, saw Midas’s emotionless face-

And saw the photo frame turning to gold.

The golden color was dazzling, shining even under the dim garage lights; this metal, symbolizing nobility since ancient times, slowly replaced the entire photo frame.

But the frame itself was ordinary, showing a happy couple, a kindly old woman, a cute little girl, and a loyal old dog.

“Is something wrong?”

“What are you doing, Midas?!”

Midas stared blankly at the frame and muttered,

“I’m turning useless things into useful things.”

His wife, in tears, rushed to grab the album from Midas’s hands.

But the hand she reached out with was caught in his grasp…

The next morning, Midas greeted the neighbors as usual and went to the olive grove.

That evening, he sat on the sofa at home, not speaking to anyone.

Everything was so normal.

On the weekend, Midas took some gold scraps and found a local thug.

There weren’t many thugs in town; this one had helped Midas sell gold many times and recognized him.

Normally, the thug wouldn’t ask about the goods, but curiosity got the better of him.

“Where do you get so much stuff?” he asked.

Midas shook his head, and the thug sensibly stopped asking.

After counting the gold, the thug joked, “You must have made a lot this time. How are you going to spend it? I know a lot of ways-want to try?”

Midas shook his head again and calmly replied,

“I’m using it for the family. We’re not doing well financially. The big companies have driven olive prices so low that we can’t make money.”

“The olive grove costs a lot to run. There are four of us at home, everyone needs to eat,there are lots of expenses.”

“My daughter’s about to start middle school; buying school supplies will cost a lot. Kids grow fast, last year’s clothes don’t fit anymore, so I have to buy more.”

“My mother’s back pain is getting worse. She worries about money and won’t go to the hospital, she keeps making handicrafts to earn a little, but this can’t go on.”

“My wife always wanted to replace the old furniture, but she never brings herself to do it. It’s getting cold, and she’s been saying that she wants a thick wool sweater-she tried one in the store but didn’t buy it.”

“She’s been talking about it for a while, but she always complains about that old sweater. Heh, you know how it is.”

It was like reciting a line with no emotion.

But a tear slid down Midas’s face…