The decisionMature

Homer and Haydon, lugged the box down to Homer's Blazer, and with a mighty heave, lifted it into the back. Both men were sweating. "I guess we aught to take this over to the office," Homer said, closing the back end.

"Not so fast Hom, let's think about this for a minute. We dug the hole, we found the box, we pulled it out of the ground. I think we deserve to keep it."

"Yeah, but we're on cemetery property," Homer reminded him.

"Hom, that box didn't belong to the cemetery when it was buried there. Do you know what that CSA stands for?"

Homer shook a cigarette from the hard pack. 'No, and neither do you. It could stand for anything."

Haydon put his foot on Homer's bumper, emptying the dirt from his pants cuff. "You want to know what I think, I think CSA stands for Confederate States of America. You know, you're always on my case for reading history, well, during the civil war the confederate army sent a platoon of soldiers west to gather up gold for the war effort. They never returned and the gold was never found."

Homer glanced around nervously, lowering his voice to a whisper, he said, "You think that box is full of gold?"

"A damn good chance, it's heavy enough," said Haydon.

Homer took a few step away, then returned. "Hayd', this rightfully belongs to the cemetery. Besides, if we kept it, how would we spend it? You can't very well walk into a 7-11 and buy a sandwich, and give the clerk a brick of gold."

Haydon emptied out his other cuff. "I haven't got that figured out, but we found it. Finders Keepers..."

Homer ground out his cigarette beneath his boot. "OK. Say we keep it, where are we gonna hide it? We can't keep it at my house, Fanny would find it, and pester me 'til I told her what it was."

Haydon shook his head. "That won't be a problem. I have a rental shed where I keep my boat. We can stash it there."

Homer retrieved the green carpet used to cover the earth. "Lets finish up here, then decide."

The two men finished dressing up the grave site in silence. Once they were finished, and their tools back into their vehicles, Haydon said, "Well, what's it gonna be?"

"Hayd' I don't want to go to jail."

"Hom, we won't go to jail, we found this, we didn't steal it."

Homer shook out a cigarette, held it for a few seconds then put it back in the pack. 

Haydon said, "Come on, Hom, we'll take it to my shed."

Homer felt his lunch rise up in his throat. "Okay," he said.

The End

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