Shooting the moon

Jed was a capricious kid when it came to hobbies. He always said he would try anything once, and he usually did- whether it was canoeing, rock climbing, skating or carting. Nothing held his attention for long enough.
"I think you need a hobby that will give you more than broken limbs," said his grandmother one Christmas. "So I bought you this. You're dad had one when he was a kid, and with you being very much your father's son you'd probably be just as into it as he was."
She handed him a large rectangular box wrapped up with a big red bow. Jed kept reminding himself -'big doesn't necessarily mean better.'
He tore open the wrapping, tossed it to the side and examined the lettering on the box. It was an Excalibur V3 metal detector.
"They tell me this is top of the range. It has an absolute maximum depth of four feet," his grandmother said with a proud smile on her face.
Jed tried to disguise his surprise at receiving something he'd never shown an interest in before by smiling weakly back at her. "Thanks, Grandma," he said.

To please his grandmother he took the detector out of the box on Boxing Day and skimmed it across the garden, not expecting it to beep back at him; but it did. He unearthed a rusty spoon. It wasn't much but the find ignited something inside him that he'd never felt before-passion.
The following day and every day after that Jed ventured out into parks, fields and woods, skimming the earth and uncovering various bits of metal-buckles, coins, badges. But unearthing a bronze arrow head supposedly on the site of a roman fort forged Jed's addiction. He devoted every minute of daylight to search for bigger and bigger finds.
"It's out there, Rob," he said to his brother one night as he sat up in bed. "The big fish is out there and I'm gonna catch it."
Jed fished out an archaeological magazine from beneath his bed, flicked to the relevant page and handed it to Rob.
"Look at this. They're looking for amateur detectors to help at a dig outside Lakewich. I had no idea the town was an Anglo-Saxon village.Apparently the archelogogists can't afford to pay people so they want volunteers."
"They're archaeologists, dummy," stated Rob. "And you're gonna go?"
"Of course I am."
Rob tutted. "Stupid question."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
Rob laid on his bed with his back to Jed and threw the covers over his shoulder. "You know exactly what it means."
It seemed to Jed that he couldn't win. Was he being criticised for having an interest? Was his brother jealous? Jed wasn't sure. He lay awake most of the night puzzling over his brother's indifference, feeling a mixture of guilt and anger before coming to the conclusion that he was going to show his brother his pastime wasn't purposeless.
A week later, on the first day of the dig Jed determinedly packed a day bag with sandwiches, chocolate and juice and caught the number sixty-four bus.
When he hopped off the bus, at the outskirts of Lakewich, he was surprised by the turnout in response to the advertisement. An army of other ardent detectors, most of whom looked considerably older than him, were gathered in a field, awaiting instruction. Jed milled about amongst them: buzzing cliques of men and women clutching various models of detectors, some old, some new. He listened to their cordial chatter and exchange of stories of recent finds, and although he felt a little left out, not knowing anyone, he was comforted by the warmth of community spirit.
As he cut through two large groups of people he was approached by a kid not much older than himself.
"Hey," the kid said with a casual flick of his head. "What's yer name?"
"Jed," Jed replied.
"I'm Steve.You here with yer dad?"
Jed shook his head. "I'm on my own."
"Wow, you came to one of these voluntarily? you must really be into this detecting malarky."
Jed held up his detector. "Wow. You've got an Excalibur. Dad says they're the best. He's got a Nexus 2000."
"Do you not have a detector yourself?" Jed asked, noticing that Steve wasn't holding anything. "Nah. I'm with me Dad. Since my parents broke up this is the only time I get to see him. It's not much but its better than nout, I s'pose. But it makes a change to see someone me own age at one of these things."
Jed smiled and looked around him. "Yeah, I feel a little out of place," he said as a woman with a dark green waxed coat and a flat cap passed him a slip of green paper. Nothing was written on it. Before Jed could ask her what it was for she had disappeared into the crowd.
"They divide everyone up into teams," said Steve. He had obviously sensed Jed's confusion. "Makes it easier to manage."
"Steve, son. We're in the greens," yelled a short man wearing blue spotted Wellingtons and a long brown mack.
"Great dad," said Steve before grinning at Jed. "You hear that. We're in your team."
"Is that your dad?" asked Jed.
Steve nodded. "So how come your dad didn't come? Is he not into detecting?"
Jed shook his head. "No. He died. Last year. Cancer," Jed explained solemnly. He could still only manage laconic explanations when it came to his dad, for self preservation reasons. His mother had repeatedly tried to get him to talk things through but Jed was defiant. If he didn't have to talk about it he could imagine that it never happened and that his dad just moved away to another place, which was true, of sorts.
Steve scuffed the cap of his boot on the soft ground. It was clear to Jed that Steve was feeling a little awkward.
"So do you reckon there's gold here or what?" Jed asked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Well, it looks like we'll soon find out," he said pointing to a man approaching the eager crowds from a cluster of tents.
The man climbed up an A frame ladder, presumably to get a better view across, and yelled, "Right, can I have everyone's attention please? You'll all have been given coloured slips of paper. There are four colours, hence four teams. We've roped off sections of the field according to the four colours. I'd be grateful if you could make your way over to your coloured section where you'll be given further instructions.
Jed walked with Steve and his dad to the far right corner of the field where a rope with green ribbons tied to it was strung between flimsy metal rods driven into the soft ground.
A portly gentleman approached wearing a green jacket buttoned so tightly Jed was sure the buttons would ping off if he took a deep breath.
"Can I have you lined up in a row at the far end by the hedgerow firstly," began the stout man. "Then if you could slowly sweep over the ground until you reach the other end of the cordoned area. If you find anything our assistants will be on hand to unearth, bag and tag it. Now, does anyone have any questions?"
There was a deathly silence amongst Jed's group.
After two hours of repeatedly going over the same ground, neither Jed nor anyone else from the green team found anything more significant than a few musket balls. Jed's disappointment was obvious.
"You win some, you lose some," said Steve optimistically.
Jed shrugged his shoulders. He really hoped he'd be able to go home and at least say he found something. He was about to give up and follow the other detectors as they made their way back to the tented area, but something stopped him; a feeling that his day wasn't over yet. He wasn't sure if it was hope or instinct that held him back, but whatever it was he decided to sweep the out edge of the field; the one area that nobody had covered.
"What ya doin'?" asked Steve.
"Just checking something out, that's all," said Jed as he waded through the thick, dry grass that skirted the field. With wide sweeping motions he skimmed the ground, slowly, purposefully, inching his way along. He stumbled and knocked the detector a couple of times over hidden stony areas and stung his knuckles on patches of tall nettles that peppered the ground.
"It's pointless, Jed," said Steve. "There's nothin' 'ere."
Jed didn't answer. He was too busy listening for the familar beep. And just as he was almost at the end of the green cordon his detector buzzed wildly. Jed hovered it over the spot. His heart raced, his pulse quickened, he gasped for breath as the excitement coursed through his body. 'What was it?'
He crouched down and brushed the grass aside.
"That sounded shallow," said Steve, who suddenly appeared at Jed's side. "Go on dig."
"They said to wait, if we found anything."
"Wait, shmate," said Steve. "You found it, you dig. It must only be in the topsoil."
Steve began yanking up clumps of grass and tossing them impatiently over his shoulder. As the grass was cleared Jed spotted something glinting in the fading sunlight. He reached down and plucked a round, golden object from the soft mud.
Steve peered over his shoulder. "What is it? What is it?"
Jed delicately brushed the dirt aside and examined the piece. He really had no idea what it was but in the centre was a red stone, and fanning from the stone were intricate engravings.
"I've got no idea. But it looks old."
Steve scrabbled around the ground and found more pieces; golden rings, buttons, belt buckles, and all manner of other strange objects all inlaid with ruby red stones.
"My god, you've found buried treasure!" gasped Steve.
Jed was so taken aback by the growing mound of objects spilling from the ground he couldn't breathe. In the distance he could see the portly man in the waistcoat trotting towards him.
"What've ya got there boys?" asked the man.
"Jed's a millionaire," replied Steve, as Jed, gobsmacked, held out a handful of gold objects.
"Oh, dear god," said the man and slapped a hand on Jed's shoulder. "It looks like you've just hit the jackpot, boy. That looks like Saxon gold to me."
Jed stared down at his find barely able to comprehend that what was resting in his palm had been living in the ground unseen and untouched by humans for the last twelve hundred years. But it meant more to Jed than anyone could understand.
He held his palm up to the fast setting sun.
"This one's for you, dad," he said