The Key on the Shovel
The thing in the palm of Eli was a brass key. It was small and old, worn bright at the edges by forty years of a thumb, and it hung …
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The Lunch Pail
I opened the old steel lunch pail slowly, so that my son could watch every move. The lid had a dent in it from a drop forge in 1983. Inside …
The Lunch Pail Read MoreThe Saddlebag
I unbuckled the straps on the old saddlebag and tipped it gently onto the table beside the platter of fried chicken. Out slid a thick packet of papers, a black …
The Saddlebag Read MoreThe Tackle Box
I lifted the old tackle box onto the table and unlatched the two brass catches. The lid rose with a groan. Inside, where my son Ron had expected hooks and …
The Tackle Box Read MoreThe Corn Portfolio
I unzipped the black leather portfolio on my lap and took out the first document. It was a stock certificate, yellowed at the edges, printed in green ink with a …
The Corn Portfolio Read MoreThe Foil Pie Tin
I peeled back the foil from the pie tin, one corner at a time, and the whole table leaned forward. Underneath, where Jenny had expected an apple butter crumb, lay …
The Foil Pie Tin Read MoreThe Knock at the Door
Mr. Lindgren stood on the back step in his good wool coat, holding his hat in one hand, and behind him stood two other people I had never expected to …
The Knock at the Door Read MoreThe Cash Box
I picked up the old cash box from beside my chair and set it on the table between the tri tip and the potato salad. It was gray steel, dented …
The Cash Box Read MoreBill Green Notebook
I slid the little green notebook out of my purse and opened it to the last page. The paper was soft from forty years of living in a shirt pocket, …
Bill Green Notebook Read MoreThe Last Page
I took the last page out of the manila folder and laid it on the Thanksgiving table beside the bourbon bottle that cost more than my boots. It was heavy …
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