Frank spent a lot of time at garage sales and the city dump. He found enough good stuff to furnish his and Lenore's apartment, and most everything else they needed. Of course, Lenore would have preferred new stuff, but that really wasn't an option. Frank couldn't hold a job long enough to pay the light bill and keep them in regular groceries, but he could fix nearly anything. He made do by trading what he couldn't use. Lenore got use to Frank's ways; he was a good man so she made the best of it; but she sometimes dreamed of how it would be to buy things new or go out to eat now and then like most folks.
That Friday started off pretty much like they always did. Frank got up early and read the garage sale notices and planned his morning route. He took his coffee with him in the pickup and headed for the part of town he knew would have the best stuff. He hit the first sale as soon as they raised the garage door. Then he gradually made his way back to their end of town, taking in as many sales as he could before 10. By then all the bargains were gone, so Frank swung by the dump to see if there was anything of value in the last few loads.
He found a toaster oven that looked nearly new. It probably just needed a new cord. Then he spotted what looked like an old wallet sticking out between a stack of yellowed newspapers. Frank pulled it out and wiped the grime from the wallet with his sleeve. It was black alligator and Frank could see that it was barely worn after he cleaned the dirt off. He might keep this for himself, he thought, as he opened the wallet. His own was nearly falling apart with wear.
There were several pictures, but little else -- a card or two and an old driver's license. Frank almost pulled them out to throw them back into the trash with the useless newspapers, but something tucked in with one of the photos made him hesitate. It was a lock of blond hair with a faded picture of a young woman. It looked out of place in the black alligator wallet, but Frank guessed even rich people can be sentimental. That lock of hair and photo had meant something to someone. Frank was a practical man, but he wasn't without a heart. It wouldn't hurt to see if he could find the guy on the old driver's license and see if he wanted the wallet back. There might even be a reward for his trouble. The address was in a very good part of town.
Lenore agreed when Frank came home with the wallet. "Maybe if it's a big reward, we could even go out to eat at a restaurant tonight. You know, to celebrate."
"Hell, yes," Frank said. "If it's big enough we can order steak."
It wasn't hard to find the man's number; he was in the book. Frank got him on the phone around 5 that evening.
"Of course I'd like to have it back," an aging voice said, "That wallet was stolen 15 years ago. Are there any pictures still in it?"
"Several," Frank answered. "No money, though, but I guess you expected that. I can bring it over this evening if you like."
"Yes, please do. I will be happy to give you a reward. I never thought I'd ever see those pictures again. They mean a lot to me. I'll be thrilled to get them back."
"Get dressed Lenore," Frank said when he hung up. "We're going to the Sizzler after we return the wallet. I have a feeling we're getting a big reward."
Lenore waited in the truck while Frank walked up the flagstone walk edged with red dianthus to return the wallet.
An old man came to the door, much older than Frank had expected. He greeted Frank warmly and invited him into the spacious entryway.
When the old man took the wallet in his hand he looked at Frank and then at the picture of the young girl. He pointed to the curl of hair under the plastic protector, and said, "You know, this wallet had over two hundred in cash in it when it was stolen 15 years ago. But this one lock of hair is the only thing of value I lost."
Frank noticed a tear welling in the old man's eyes as he continued. "She was my wife, gone forty years now -- the light of my life, she was." The old man choked back a sob. "Gosh I miss her. This lock of hair is the only thing I had left of her -- and now I have it back. Thank you so much."
The old man wiped the tears from his eyes and looked up at Frank again. "Stay here and I'll see if I can find something to compensate you for your kindness."
"No charge," Frank said before he would even think about it. "I gotta get going anyways. The light of my life is waitin' in the truck."
Frank mentally counted his change on his way back down the walkway to the truck. He might just have enough for the Sizzler if they order burgers instead of steaks.
THE END