He finished his drink, put down the empty can, and looked down at the letter still in his hand. Shash had resettled himself in the passenger seat since nothing seemed to be happening. Kevin broke open the bag with the jerky and fed the old dog a few pieces. While he slurped away, Kevin looked out over the wide vista of rolling hills, the mesas to the north an indistinct shade of orangey-red. The rush of traffic from I-40 could still be heard as a murmur; the store was only a mile away.
His mother had relied on Vernon’s business acumen to help her run the ranch. But he’d gotten real sick so fast and the months ticked on. In desperation, his mother had signed papers for a line of equity. Kevin wondered if this letter was a notification of payments due or, more likely, past due. There was about three hundred dollars left in the ranch account. Most likely, he’d have to declare bankrupt and sell up.
Vernon had been a font of sayings, some traditional in nature and others culled from a scattered education supplemented by extensive book reading. Kevin was always amazed at the Shakespeare quotes this quiet Hopi guy could produce. Now he thought about one that had no special attribution. The incident that prompted this thought had happened a while ago, when Kevin was twelve. A wealthy white couple had driven up to the ranch. Kevin had stayed out of the house, knowing that they were undoubtedly collectors come to see what Vernon had made. Or maybe they’d already ordered something and were picking it up. Collectors liked doing that.
Kevin had been admiring their white Mercedes, but had retreated to the porch to read a comic. The couple emerged, the man holding a fine carving reverently in his hands. Vernon came out to supervise their wrapping of the object in swaths of bubble wrap. Finally, all was done, goodbyes were said, and the couple took off in their car, bumping over the dirt driveway toward the road. Vernon went back into the house. Out of the corner of his eye, Kevin spotted something glittering on the ground near where the car had been parked. He went investigate and discovered the lady had dropped one of her diamond earrings.
Scooping it up, he ran into the house and told Vernon what he’d found. Jumping up and down, he said, “Boy, I bet we’d get a lot for this in one of the pawnshops.”
Vernon fixed him with a scowl, handed the gleaming gem back to him and said, “We don’t profit from other people’s losses.” He then ordered the boy onto his bike. “See if you can catch up with them before they hit the main road.”
