“One twenty-five,” he replied without emotion.
Caleb nodded slowly, as if bracing himself.
He carefully removed the envelope and placed it on the glass counter. His fingers trembled slightly as he opened it. He began laying out bills one by one. Tens. Fives. Ones. Then coins, rolled neatly in paper tubes he had prepared himself.
He counted aloud in a soft voice.
“Forty-seven… forty-eight… forty-nine… fifty.”
He looked up, eyes hopeful but afraid.
“I have fifty dollars,” he said. “I’ve been saving for two years. I was wondering if you’d maybe… take it? Or maybe let me pay the rest later?”
The people behind him shifted uncomfortably.
Mr. Briggs leaned back, studying the boy.
“The price is one twenty-five,” he said flatly. “No discounts.”
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