The Year Money Grew on Trees - Aaron Hawkins [56]
"Look, I brought Michael to help!" I yelled to him. "Did anyone try to take any?"
"No," Sam replied. "It seemed like you took three or four hours."
"No way! I drove that tractor as fast as it would go."
We stacked boxes again and used the same roll of twine to hold them in place. When I got on the tractor for the return trip, they both got on beside me.
"Somebody needs to stay and guard those boxes. We need a thousand, and I don't want someone stealing any from us," I said.
"Why don't you do it, then?" challenged Michael.
"How about if you both stay and keep each other company. Then you won't have to help with the unloading. It'll be easy," I replied.
They weren't very happy about the plan, and I practically had to push them off the tractor. They shouted something at me as I drove off.
I dumped the load of boxes as quickly as possible and even brought a jug of water back to the dump with me. Sam and Michael drank it greedily and complained about being starved.
This time when we finished tying the boxes down, Sam and Michael ran for the tractor and Sam sat in the driver's seat.
"We've been talking, and we've decided that if you want anyone to guard those boxes, it has to be you," Michael said as I reached the tractor.
"Come on, guys," I began.
"I've got to get something to eat, and he's not going to stay alone," said Sam, pointing his thumb at Michael.
"Oh, all right!" I said. "But you better drive fast, Sam. Third gear the whole way. Unload them fast, too, and just get something quick to eat."
"Don't worry, we will," Michael called out, laughing as Sam started the tractor and drove off. I watched them until their trail of dust disappeared over a sandy ridge.
I walked around the edge of the pit to kill time, looking at the once-valuable stuff people had thrown into it. On my fourth pass around, I saw a cloud of dust on the horizon. I hurried over to where the rest of the boxes were. It seemed too soon for Sam and Michael to be coming back, and it turned out to be a station wagon driven by an older man. He backed up to the side of the pit and pushed everything piled in the back of this car out the open tailgate.
He saw me standing by the boxes and walked over. "You okay? You need some help?" he asked sympathetically.
"I'm just watching these boxes so that no one takes them."
He looked at me strangely, said, "Okay," and then drove off.
Two more cars drove up while I was waiting. In one of them was the whole family of Darin Skinner, a kid I knew from school who was a year younger than me. They dumped their garbage, and then Darin's dad came over to me and the boxes. Darin stayed in the car.
"Hey, what are you doing here alone?" his dad asked.
I could feel my face turning bright red. "I'm just, just watching these boxes for someone. They want to use 'em. I'm just keeping an eye on 'em," I spluttered out, trying not to look at his face.
"You sure you don't need a ride or something?"
"Oh, no, I'm okay. It'll be just a few more minutes."
He looked me over, then shrugged his shoulders and walked back to his car. Darin watched me out the rear window as they drove off.
On what seemed like my twentieth time around the pit, I started to get angry. Where were those dummies? I should never have let them take that tractor. Sam was probably in first gear, or they were sitting at home watching TV. Then I started to worry that something had gone wrong, like the tractor breaking down. It had been a while since I had sucked out the fuel line. Maybe they were on the side of the road stranded.
The disgusting smell of the dump made it hard to think of food, but I was beginning to feel weak from not eating anything and my mouth was completely dry. I thought of walking the five miles home and how long it would take me. Instead, I burrowed into the stack of boxes. It was uncomfortable but at least provided some shade from the August sun.
I was drifting off to sleep when I heard the sound of the tractor