Michael’s face flushed with embarrassment. « It’s not much, but it keeps the rain off my head. » He fumbled with his wallet, pulling it open. Empty. His shoulders sagged. « I wanted to repay you boys for your kindness. »
He shuffled inside and emerged moments later with a single red apple. « Please, take this. It’s all I have right now. »
Stuart looked at Dylan. Neither boy reached for the apple.
« We didn’t help you for a reward, sir, » Stuart said softly. « We’re just glad you’re okay. »
Michael’s eyes grew glassy. « You’re good boys. Very good boys. »
As they walked away from the trailer that evening, neither Stuart nor Dylan could stop thinking about the lonely old man living in that falling-apart home.
The next afternoon, Stuart and Dylan returned to the trailer.
This time, they carried heavy grocery bags filled with everything they could afford. They’d pooled together their savings from odd jobs and bought fruits, vegetables, bread, canned goods, and even some fabric and tape to patch the broken windows.
When Michael opened the door and saw the bags, his lips trembled. « Boys, what is this? »
« We thought you could use some help, » Dylan said, setting the bags on the rickety table inside.
