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“My treasures!” she enthused. “I’m selling them. Do you want to see?”
“Sure.”
She opened the lid and revealed a box full of half-used broken pencils, rubber bands and paperclips, some pens that looked like they’d seen better days, and other trash that could most kindly be described as the rejects from a junk drawer.
Lord knew there was nothing I needed in the box, but there was no way I was going to send this needy little thing away empty-handed. I wasn’t one to wear my heart on my sleeve, but that didn’t mean I didn’t have one. Even though most people in this town might argue that I didn’t. Hell, maybe they were right.
I made a show of picking up an eraser and the Band-Aid before pulling my wallet out of my back pocket. I leafed through the bills and crooked an eyebrow at her. “How much?”
Her eyes widened, and she looked down into the box like she was seeing it for the first time. “For which thing?”
“All of it.”
“All of it?” Her eyes widened to the size of saucers. “A dollar. No, two dollars!” she quickly modified.
I nodded, keeping my face solemn as if I was considering her price. “You’re a tough negotiator. Here ya go.”
I handed her all of the ones from my billfold and took the box in return. She leafed through the dollar bills, her mouth moving silently as she counted. When she finished, her eyes flew up to mine, wide as saucers. “But… but… this is eleven dollars!” she breathed, awe threaded all through the statement. She grinned and the missing tooth in front gave her smile an endearing twist. “Thanks, sir!”
Sir?I hadn’t been called sir… ever.
“Don’t spend it all on candy.” The last thing I wanted to do was contribute to the cavities of youth.
Her expression changed. The light of excitement that had been in her eyes a second before diminished and her lips pursed as she shoved the money in her back pocket. “It’s for my mom. So she doesn’t cry anymore.”
If I’d been uncertain about having a heart before, the evidence presented itself after hearing that because it broke at her response. It wasn’t just the words that she’d said. It was the somberness, the maturity, and the conviction of her explanation.
“Where is your mom?”
“She’s at our house.”
“Does she know where you are?”
“No, she was sleepin’ and I didn’t want to wake her up. I wanted to surprise her!”
I could see that this little girl’s heart was in the right place, but I’d put money on this not being the sort of surprise her mama would appreciate.
“Did you walk here?”
“Yes, I did!” she declared, clearly proud of her achievement.
I’d never seen the girl before and had no idea where she lived, but I had a pretty good guess. My house sat on four acres of land on a thin stretch of the peninsula. Old Man Thompson’s place was the only other house in miles. It sat on the edge of the property a couple of hundred yards away, but it had been vacant since the old man passed, must be five years ago.
“We just moved here. We live in the blue house.”
Yep. The blue house. That was definitely Old Man Thompson’s place.
“I think you better get home before your mama wakes up.” I planned on watching the hobo sprite through the kitchen window to make sure she made it back across the field that separated our homes safe and sound. I could see the house and the path clearly from there.
“Okay.” She nodded decisively and then stuck out her hand. “Thank you mister…” her voice trailed off.
“Hank.” I leaned down and shook her hand once. “Hank Comfort. It was a pleasure doing business with you miss…” I let my voice trail off the same way hers had.
“Luna. Luna Thompson” Her tiny fingers gripped my palm with a firm handshake.
“Nice to meet you Luna Luna.”
Her eyes widened as she giggled. “Just Luna, not Luna Luna!”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you Just Luna.”
This time her head fell back as she cracked up. If this kid’s reaction was any indication, I might’ve missed my calling by owning a construction company. I should be a stand-up for the under ten crowd.
I woulda thought nothing could’ve turned my day around after the morning I had. But the dark clouds that had been closing in on me were gone. And all it took was a few minutes talking to the girl version of the Jerry Maguire kid. I half expected her to tell me that the human head weighs eight pounds.
“Luna!” I heard a panicked voice scream from the direction of the Thompson place.
I glanced down at the kid who was now wearing the same expression my youngest brother Jimmy used to have whenever I caught him with his hand in the cookie jar and I couldn’t help but smile, which wasn’t somethin’ I did often.
“Well, I think your mama’s awake.”
