Homer climbed into his Blazer, then drove in behind Haydon. He felt uneasy doing this, yet was excited at the same time. He might  have a million dollars of gold right behind him. He shut off the radio. The music he loved listening to was now grating on his nerves.

Several miles later, Haydon's turn signal came on as he pulled into a short driveway ending at an eight foot chain-link fence. Homer nosed in behind him, then sat there as Haydon fed an ID card into a slot. Inside the gate Homer followed Haydon's pickup as it wound through the many storage units before stopping outside a large unit, number 1021.  Homer turned off his key and met Haydon between vehicles.

Homer cast his eyes around the fenced-in area; here and there he spotted security cameras. Haydon unlocked the unit and rolled the door open. "Here we go, buddy," he said, entering the shed. The unit held a boat and trailer, both covered, two dirt bikes, a badminton table folded against the wall, and several taped up boxes. Haydon slid the table to one end of the room. "We'll put our buried treasure here," he said.

"Hayd', you think I aught to back up here, there's a bunch of cameras out there?"

"I don't think it matters, but go ahead if it'll make you feel better."

Homer jockeyed his Blazer around between rows of sheds, until his back end was inside the front of Haydon's unit. With one more glance at the security cameras, he pulled his baseball cap low over his eyes and got out.

The two men strained under the load of the box as they worked their way, between the boat and the wall, to the end of the shed, here they set the box down. "How are we going to open it?" Homer asked. "Do you have any tools in your truck?"

"Naw, nothing that would crack that box open," Haydon said, "I'll bring some tools over tomorrow and we'll open it."

A wave of relief swept over Homer. "Yeah, that's a good idea."

The two men separated at the gate. As Homer drove home, his mind was in turmoil, half elated, half scared to death. He picked at his supper, and couldn't concentrate on his TV shows. He went to bed early. Fanny, chatting like a magpie, didn't notice a thing.

Homer slept fitfully, glancing at the clock every time he turned over, finally at 5:45am he got up, made coffee, and brought in the paper. Half expecting to see his name spread across the front page, he unfolded the paper. Thankfully there was nothing in the paper about the cemetery. With no grave to dig that day, he'd told Fanny that he and Hayd' were going fishing. He gathered up his fishing equipment and place it near the back door.

In her bathrobe, and brushing her teeth, Fanny came into the kitchen. "Harry, called last night, after you went to bed, said he needs some more money for books and campus parking."

"Why can't he ride a bicycle?" Homer said, "He don't need a car to drive around that campus."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Fanny said, going back to the bathroom.

Homer glanced at the clock above the refrigerator, 5:52am. He was to meet Hayd' at seven.

The End

12 comments about this story Feed