Finders Keepers

I was a poor boy, growing up in California’s San Gabriel Valley, back in 1955. A guy that I thought that I knew had found a high wage work assignment, maybe twelve miles to the East of the little hick town where we lived. Two workers were needed and I got a ride out to the job site with the guy, as a last second replacement for a no show. We got to the job site and I was assigned the clean up of a house site.
With money on the line, I got to work.
My ride guy got into a big argument, with the boss. My ride guy then got into his car and drove off, stranding me.
I worked eight hours, sustained only by a jar of lemon water. At the end of my day, I got $20 in pay and no ride home, after asking around. With no other option, I started to walk back home, along a deserted rural road.
As I walked, I spotted a car parked by the side of the road.
As I got closer, I saw that, in the car, the driver had blood on his head. A bit closer examination revealed the cause of the blood was a bullet wound to the head. Next to the driver were three large duffel bags.
I was a po’ boy. I had to take advantage of any economic opportunity that came my way. I took the three duffel bags and the wallet that the driver had no further use for. I carefully wiped off the car door handle, with my shirt tail. I then staggered down the road for a way, carrying the heavy duffel bags. I found a place where I could cross over train tracks, on one side of the road. I made it over the train tracks although it took all of my strength.
I rested for a bit and then hid one of the duffel bags in some underbrush. I then staggered home with the remaining two duffel bags. When I got home, I hid the two duffel bags in the rafters of our garage. I then staggered into the house.
My mother was livid! “Where have you been?”
I said, “Mom, I got a ride out to a job. My ride abandoned me, way out in the East. I had to walk home. However I made twenty dollars, for a hard day’s work.” I showed Mom my $20 earnings.
Mom sighed and said, “Well, okay, but you can just buy your own school shoes.”
I said, “Fair enough, the boss also told me about a local job, where I can make more money tomorrow.”
Mom then made me some supper and all was again right with the world.
I got a night’s sleep and awoke, in the morning with many a sore muscle, due to my long hike with the heavy duffel bags.
The next day, I used some of the dead driver’s wallet money, to buy some items that I could quick sell, for a small profit. I then went home, got supper and departed for, ‘a night job.’ I went and retrieved the remaining duffel bag, that was still hidden in the underbrush. I then staggered home with the remaining duffel bag. When I got home, I again hid the duffel bag in the rafters of our garage. I then staggered into the house and showed Mom yet another $20 earnings.