"This shop owner doesn't realize what he has here," Michael said, covetously gazing at the items.
"What does he have?" Freddie asked.
Michael picked up the ring. "I have read about this. It's the Medici Ring. Italian bankers in the 14th and 15th centuries."
Freddie looked uncertain. "Let's just say that you didn't want to default on a loan with them," Michael said and closed his palm around the ring. Freddie followed him to the counter.
The old man, who had been hunched over a crate of inventory, rose and greeted them. "You found something?"
"Depends," Michael said, trying to act smooth. "What would you want for this?"
The old man looked at the ring, plucked it from Michael's hand, and shook his head. "That is not for sale."
"It was on your shelves," Michael protested.
"It is not for sale to you," he said. "It is not meant for you."
"Can I buy it?" Freddie interjected. He could tell that Michael really wanted the ring.
"What would you do with it?" The old man whirled on him, making both teenagers take an involuntary step back from the counter.
"I...I... don't know."
"What do you want for it?" Michael asked with more practicality.
"Take it," the old man said, but to Freddie, not Michael.
"Really?"
"Yes," the man said.
"We should pay you something for it," Freddie said.
"You will be back," the man said cryptically. "It is for you. Take it."
"You heard him," Michael said with undisguised excitement as the man handed the ring to Michael.
They left the shop, but as soon as they got back onto the sidewalk Michael wanted another look at the ring.
"Wait a minute," Freddie said. "He said it's mine."
"Yes, but..."
Freddie lifted the ring closer to his face. "Hey, there's an inscription!"