Chapter 75

  Jesse crossed the farmyard and spotted a group of men in blue jeans and seed hats admiring an old green tractor parked just outside the closed barn doors. He noticed a sign on it that said,

  “1947 John Deere Model A, Taking bids see Nils.”

  He walked up to the group and asked for Nils. One man told him that he could find him in the barn.

  Jesse entered the barn through a service door and ran straight into a brick wall made of flesh. The huge man was reaching for something on an upper-floor support beam. Jesse didn’t have to look up to many men, but he had to tilt his head backward to look into his face.

  "There isn't much left in here, mister, but you're welcome to look around. We pretty much-sold everything except for some antique single-row implements if you're interested in that sort of thing. We also have that 47 John Deere out there that we're taking bids on. That beauty still runs perfectly, and it has an electric starter."

  Jesse watched the big man as he brought his hand down with a little ball of fur in it. The man held out this huge hand, and Jesse could see a tiny kitten inside it. He set the kitten down on the dirt floor, and it quickly scampered away in search of its mother.

  "Well, I'm actually looking for a man named Nils. I was told that I could find him in here."

  Nils looked at the man quizzically and said, "I'm Nils; how can I help you, sir?"

  Jesse stuck out his hand and said, "Hello, Nils, my name is Jesse Taylor. I understand that you knew Peter Jensen. I'd like to ask you a few questions, if you don't mind."

  Nils stuck out his hand, and the two men shook hands. Jesse was amazed at the size of the man’s hand. It was like a small child shaking hands with an adult. But despite his size, Jesse was surprised by the gentleness of his grip. Jesse figured that he had crushed so many hands and paid so many hospital bills that he was now cautious of any hand he shook.

  “No, I don’t mind at all…can I ask you why you’re interested in Peter? Are you with the government?

  “No, I’m a private contractor representing the government’s interests. I’m looking into some letters Peter sent home while stationed in Vietnam.”

  Nils looked slightly confused by his answer and visibly relaxed when he heard his explanation. “Well, Mr. Taylor, I don’t know how I can help you, but I’m willing to answer any questions you may have.”

  “Nils, how well did you know Peter Jensen?”

  “I suspect that you know that I live on the next farm down the road and that I’ve lived there all my life. Well, sir, Peter was like a big brother to me. Peter was five years older, but there weren’t too many other kids around, so we played together when we were kids. Peter was the smart one, though; he was the smartest person I’ve ever met, except maybe for his father, Zed. When we were kids, we would go to the theater in Farmington and see all those James Bond movies, and I thought it would be the coolest thing in the world to be a spy. So when Peter got accepted to join the CIA, I thought he was the luckiest man in the world. But that all came crashing down when I learned that he was killed in Vietnam. That was one of the saddest days of my life, Mr. Taylor.”

  “Nils, did Peter ever write you any letters when he was in Vietnam, or did Zed share any letters he received with you?”

  Nils looked at Jesse skeptically and asked, “Mr. Taylor, can I ask you why the government is interested in something that happened so long ago?”

  “I’m sorry, but all it can tell you now is that my investigation is a national security matter, and anything we discuss today must be held strictly confidential.”

  If nothing else, Nils had a perfect poker face.

  For a long moment, he stood and looked at Jesse with a stone face before answering. “Okay, I understand. Can I ask you if this has anything to do with that government lady who set fire to Mary and Zed’s house and barn shortly after Peter’s death? Because, as I recollect, she kind of asked the same questions you’re asking right now, Mr. Taylor.”

  Jesse was stunned by his words.

  He said, “What?” without even realizing it.

  He regained his composure and asked, “What woman?”

  “She claimed to be with the CIA. She came to see the Jensens shortly after they received the news of Peter’s death. I distinctly remember her because it was the night that I got our tractor stuck in a ditch not far from our farmhouse. We went to the Jensen’s to ask Zed for help because he had a big new tractor and could pull us out. When we got there, the CIA woman was leaving, and I remember standing awestruck at the sight of her. I was just a plain country boy, and I had never seen such a beautiful lady in all my life. I remember her saying something to me, but I was so tongue-tied that I couldn’t say a single word in reply. I think it was the next day that Zed told my father that she claimed to be with the government and that she was asking about some letters that Peter had sent home just before he was killed, just like you’re doing right now.”

  “I don’t suppose you remember her name or what she looked like?”

  Jesse watched as Nils shook his head from side to side and said, “Sorry….I don’t remember her name, but she was pretty tall and had short blond hair.”

  “You’re sure her hair was blond?”

  “Yes, sir, it sure was.”

  “So what makes you so sure that she burned down their home and barn?”

  “Because Zed told my father she did.”

  “What…that night?”

  “No, it was a few days later. Now, this happened a long time ago, but I remember it like yesterday, simply because it made me so angry. Zed told my dad that he suspected that she was the same CIA woman that Peter was so infatuated with in Vietnam. Peter had sent a picture of her in one of his letters. Apparently, Mary had made a comment that she looked like the CIA woman in the picture that Peter had sent home. At that, Zed said that she seemed to change instantly. She asked to see the photo, but Zed told her that he had destroyed all of Peter’s letters along with the picture because the memories were too painful. He said the woman didn’t seem to buy it, and that’s when we showed up at his door for help, and the woman left soon after that.”

  “Did you remember if Zed contacted the police about the incident?”

  Nils shook his large head, “No…Zed said something about letting sleeping dogs lie. Besides, he got this new barn and that house over there with the insurance money.”

  Jesse smiled and rocked back on his heels as he heard the exact words that Shawn had used just a few days ago.

  “Okay, do you know if any of the letters that Zed and Peter used to communicate while he was in Vietnam were encrypted?”

  Jesse watched as a smile formed on the big man’s face, and he said, “As far as I know, not all but many of them were!”

  Jesse was ecstatic when he heard this, although he hid his emotions and asked, “Did Zed ever show you any of Peter’s letters?”

  “Sure, not all, but a lot of them. After Peter left, Zed hired me to do some chores for them, so I was over here almost every day, and he would show me the letters after he decoded them because he knew I would get a kick out of them. Some had squares and circular mazes, others with symbols, and still others with just numbers, and some with both. They were like something an alien from outer space would write.”

  “I have just a couple more questions, if you don’t mind.” Without waiting for a reply, Jesse asked, “Do you know if the fire destroyed all of Peter’s letters, and do you know if Zed has any code keys, reference books, or notes that he kept in the house?”

  “Well, I can tell you that the fire didn’t destroy all the letters, and secondly, Zed did have code and reference books and notes because I saw them. They were all in the fortress.”

  “The fortress?”

  “Well, that’s what Peter and I called it, but it was really a bomb shelter that was built sometime in the 1950s” during the Cold War when everyone was worried about the threat of nuclear war. I can show it to you if you like, but I have to warn you, it’s quite a mess and doesn’t smell very pleasant.”

  “Please lead the way. I’d love to see it.”

  As they walked, Nils related how he and Peter would watch Zed operate his Ham Radio in the shelter while the neighbor ladies met for their weekly bridge parties in the Jensen home. One of the persons he would talk to was a former intelligence officer like himself, and they would talk about encryption and all the new technology that was coming out. He recalled Peter being so enthralled by the whole encrypting thing that it was all he had wanted to do for a while. Then, when Peter joined the CIA, he challenged his father with new codes, which became a game between them.

  “When Zed was still around, he kept the place in perfect condition. It has its own heating and air conditioning. And a fresh air purification unit. After Zed entered the nursing home, the door seals gave out, equipment broke down, and a lot of…well. You’ll see.

  As they walked to the bomb shelter, they passed several men still milling around the old tractor, and one man asked Nils if he could talk for a moment. Nils stopped and spoke briefly with the man, then returned to Jesse, who was waiting for him.

  As they continued on their journey, Nils said, “So, Mr. Taylor, you neglected to tell me if your investigation has anything to do with that woman?”

  Jesse cracked a thin smile. The man was sharper than he looked.

  “I’m sorry, I can’t discuss the details.”

  Nils nodded and said, “I certainly understand, but just between you and me, I think you should look into her.”

  “Thanks for your advice…I’ll take it under advisement.”

  Jesse followed the big man to what looked like an ordinary workshed. Nils pulled open the door, and the two men walked in. Nils found the light switch and led Jesse over to a rope with a counterweight attached to it. He pulled on the rope, and a trap door opened on the floor. Jesse looked down the stairwell that was nine or ten feet below him and could see a closed door.

  “Well, there it is…“The fortress”. Why don’t you go and have a look while I go back and start the tractor for that man who stopped me? When you enter, the light switch is inside the door on the left side. But like I said, it’s not a pretty sight.”

  “I’ll be fine. You go ahead and take care of business. If I have any questions, I know where to find you.”

  The two men parted, and Jesse grabbed hold of the steel railing and descended the crumbling steps until he finally reached the door landing. He could see that someone had recently opened one of the double doors because of the debris that had been swept aside after the door had been pulled open, although he doubted that it was Clayson’s team that opened it. He turned the door handle and started to pull the door open. As he did, the unoiled hinges shrieked in protest until it was fully opened, and the irritating noise stopped. Jesse found the light switch and flipped it on. The room was instantly washed in the soft glow of fluorescent lights. Nils was right; it wasn’t a pretty sight. Jesse watched as a dozen mice, some big and some small, scurried from the light while others just held their ground and weren’t the least bit intimidated by the tall stranger standing in the doorway.

  As he stepped into the room, he felt like he had somehow traveled through a time warp. The place was a living monument of the fear that gripped the world in the face of global nuclear war. Jesse’s mind raced back to the time when his elementary school teacher would direct the class to duck under their desks during a civil defense drill. Now, in the small town of Jamestown, NY, there was very little chance of a nuclear bomb being dropped anywhere near that hamlet. Still, your odds would significantly improve if you lived anywhere near a major population center, like Minneapolis or St. Paul. And that desk that you were hiding under, along with you, your classmates, and your teacher, would be instantly vaporized within seconds after the initial blast.

  Once inside, the smell of the toolshed, which could be a pleasant odor to some men, was quickly replaced by something a little less inviting. And after he scanned the deteriorating walls, he understood why. The concrete walls were lined with shelving that contained foodstuffs and other essential items that could sustain several people for months, if not a year or more. The only problem was that besides canned and dry goods, someone had stored home canned food jars that burst when the temperature dropped below the freezing point, and no one bothered to clean them up.

  This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

  Jesse was so busy looking at the mess that he was unaware he had walked in a mess of cobwebs until he felt something crawling along the back of his neck. He quickly brushed the sticky substance out of his hair and expelled the eight-legged insect off his neck with one quick hand motion. But spiders weren’t the only insects in abundance with him in the room. The floor, walls, and ceiling were crawling with thousands of insects. Centipedes, millipedes, crickets, beetles, ants, and other flying and crawling creatures filled the room. Jesse could see that the sacks of flour and other dried goods were being systematically devoured as the packages were either chewed or bitten open. As for the food in the broken jars, nothing was left except the broken glass and stains that covered the floor.

  The room was much larger than he had anticipated. He estimated the room to be about thirty feet square, and besides all the shelves, it was almost filled with furniture. There was a sofa and coffee table, two twin bunk beds, a large wooden desk, a Formica-covered kitchen table with four matching vinyl padded chairs, and several table and floor lamps. Across from the sofa was a table with an old tube-style television sitting on top of it. In the farthest corner, he could see what appeared to be the heating and air conditioning unit. And by the looks of it, it was the original unit. He wasn’t sure what they planned for sanitation, although he didn’t really care at the moment.

  Jesse slowly walked over to the wooden desk in the far left corner of the room and decided it was an excellent place to start. It was a big roll-top model with a dozen or more pigeonhole compartments that were mostly empty. In the middle of the desk sat an antique Commodore 64 computer with an external drive and an index box that contained a dozen floppy disks. Next to the old computer was a Smith Corona electric typewriter of the same vintage. Both were covered in a thick layer of dust. Jesse looked to his left and was greeted by a bookshelf filled with books, magazines, and a few dozen VCR movies. Subconsciously, he nodded when he saw the books and continued looking through the desk.

  After ten minutes of searching through all the drawers and compartments, he was very disappointed that he couldn’t find any letters or notes remotely connected to codes or encryption. Not discouraged, he turned his attention back to the books. On the top shelf was an entire volume of “The Book of Knowledge,” published by Grolier. He picked up the first book of twenty and looked at the printing date of 1963; then, he quickly paged through the rest of the book. What amazed him was that the encyclopedia wasn’t written in alphabetical order. Instead, the topics were random, and the illustrations were amazingly beautiful. He placed the book back on the shelf and paged through several others in the volume before he moved on. He was pleased to find several books on encryption, but he expected that. What he wasn’t expecting were the other books that he saw. There were books on chemistry, physics, math, and science, and all the publications were old. Then there was the fiction: Shakespeare, Poe, Hemmingway, Steinbeck, Whitman, Fitzgerald, Mark Twain, and many more. Jesse picked up a copy of Tom Sawyer and quickly paged through it before returning it to its original place on the shelf. One thing he noted about all the books was that they all smelled musty, reducing their value dramatically.

  Jesse took a tour of the rest of the room and noted nothing of interest except for a cheaply made gun case that now stood empty. Having seen enough and growing tired of the smell; Jesse made his way for the door and the fresh country air waiting for him outside. As he climbed the stairs, he could hear the distinct sound of a big, twin-cylinder tractor running in the distance.

  Nils was sitting in the tractor seat as several men stood around and listened for imperfections as it ran. Jesse waved at Nils, who shut down the tractor and walked over to meet him.

  “I forgot to tell you that we took anything of value out of the shelter. What we thought wouldn’t sell, we just left.”

  “Well, it just so happens that there are some books that I wanted to talk to you about. I would like to purchase all of them along with some old computer floppy discs.”

  “Did you find any of the letters?”

  “No, I didn’t.”

  “Well, if it was up to me, I’d just let you have the whole lot and be thankful to get rid of them, but it’s not. You’ll have to ask Susan if she wants anything for them.”

  “Ok, I’ll do that.”

  Jesse started to walk to the house, then turned and asked Nils another question.

  “Oh, by the way, there is a picture of two young men in a room that’s marked private. Is that a picture of you and Peter?”

  Nils put a big grin on his face and said, “Yes, it is; that was taken by my mother at our farm when Peter had just finished college and was headed for Washington. My mother had it blown up, and she gave it to the Jensen as a gift not long after their home burned down. She felt sorry that they lost all of their pictures of Peter in the fire.”

  Jesse nodded in understanding and said, “Thanks Nils.”

  Then he turned and walked to the house to inquire about purchasing the books from Susan. Just before he entered, he watched as a new Ford F-250 pulled into the driveway and backed up to the front door. He went inside and found Susan still sitting behind her table.

  “Hello again, Mr. Taylor. Did you find anything outside?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. There are about 50 books and a dozen or so old computer floppy discs in the storm shelter that I’d like to purchase from you.”

  “Oh, for heaven’s sake; all those old smelly books, what on earth would you want those for?”

  Jesse didn’t want to banter with the woman, so he came to the point, “How much for all of them?”

  Susan shrugged and said, “How does ten dollars sound?”

  “Sold, but I don’t plan on taking them with me. I’m going to send some men to pick them up later. Will you still be here tomorrow?”

  “Oh yes, I still have a lot of work to do here.”

  “Good, then you can expect them tomorrow. I’ll have them call first if you can leave me your cell number.”

  “That will be fine. Do you want me to box them up for you?”

  “No, they will take care of that, but thanks for offering, Susan; you’ve been a big help.”

  Jesse took a ten-dollar bill from the wallet and handed it to the woman.

  “Oh, no problem…I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

  “So do I, Susan, so do I.”

  Jesse felt a presence behind him, and he turned to see a short elderly gentleman with neatly combed, wiry gray hair smiling at him.

  “Please take your time; I’m in no hurry.” The man said.

  “No, I’m done here; she’s all yours.”

  “Thank you, my good man.”

  Jesse inwardly laughed. He hadn’t heard anyone use that phrase except in old movies.

  Susan spotted the elderly gentleman and said, “Oh, hello again. I held your things for you. I had a lot of interest in the cabinet. I could have sold it quite a few times.”

  “Thanks for holding it for me. I really appreciate it.”

  At the door, Jesse turned and watched as the man handed Susan a handful of bills. Then he stopped when he spotted something on the floor behind Susan’s chair. It was an old camera enclosed in a leather carrying case.

  Jesse continued to watch as Susan reached behind her, picked up the camera, and placed it on the table. "I'll wrap up your camera while you load the China cabinet. By the way, do you need some help with it?"

  "No thanks, I brought someone with me."

  "You know, I'm actually surprised that someone would want this old camera now that everything is going digital. Can you still buy film for these old things?"

  "Oh yes," was his simple reply as he walked toward the cabinet.

  When the camera was placed on the table, Jesse noticed three initials burned into the leather case. He decided to take a closer look.

  He returned to the table and said, "I'm sorry, I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. I know the camera has been sold, but I'd like to look at it if you don't mind."

  Susan looked at the buyer, who had turned around when he heard their conversation, and he nodded his approval.

  "I guess it's ok with the buyer, but I have to warn you it's still a little smelly. Nils got it out of the bomb shelter along with some shotguns. They were the only things we thought we could sell. I'm surprised that gentleman bought it, to be honest with you."

  Jesse picked it up, and the first thing that he noticed was the initials “PWJ” burned into the leather case. At that moment, he knew that the camera belonged to Peter Jensen, and he wondered if it was the one he had used in Vietnam or if it was an older model he had left at home. He recalled that a camera and all of Jensen’s film disappeared from his room after he was killed. Jesse undid the snap on the case and removed the camera. Jesse had never owned an expensive film camera, so he had no clue as to what he was looking at or how old it was. Right at that moment, two men were making their way to the front door with the cabinet in their grasp. When they reached the front door, they set the cabinet down and rested for a minute. Jesse took this opportunity to ask the new owner if he had a minute to talk.

  “Sure, just as soon as I get this into the back of my truck.”

  Two minutes

  later, the man returned, and Jesse engaged him.

  “It seems that you’re the new owner of this camera. What can you tell me about it? Do you have any idea how old it is?”

  “Well, it’s an old Professional Nikon F2. I believe they were made from about 1960 to the mid-1970s. This particular model was made in 1974 because the serial number starts with 736. I have a Nikon reference book in my truck, and I looked it up. It’s in excellent condition, and I shouldn’t have too much trouble selling it.”

  “It sounds like you know a lot about old cameras. What line of work are you in?”

  “I used to own a camera shop in Cannon Falls. Now I have a consignment and antique store there.”

  Jesse turned the camera over in his hands and pondered if this camera could have been returned to the Jensen’s after Peter’s death.

  Jesse handed the camera to the owner and asked Susan. “Did you find any pictures or film with the camera?”

  “No, I don’t think so. You can ask Nils if he did.”

  “There is some undeveloped film in the camera,” the new owner said casually.

  Jesse turned and said, “Excuse me, what did you say?”

  “There is some undeveloped film in the camera. In fact, I’d say that three out of ten cameras I buy at estate sales have undeveloped film in them. The frame counter shows that 24 of the 36 frames have been exposed.”

  "Can you show me?" Jesse asked.

  "Sure, no problem."

  The antique dealer showed Jesse the frame counter.

  "Do you have any idea how old the film is?"

  "No, I won't know that until I remove the film."

  "Can you do that now without damaging the film… let's say if it's very old?"

  "Well, it depends on how old the film is and the conditions the camera was exposed to during storage. The film could break when I manually roll the film out of its case, but it wouldn't affect the exposed film in the roll itself."

  "Would the pictures still be good, let's say, if it was taken in 1975?"

  "Well, that depends."

  "On what?"

  "Just like a bottle of red wine, it would depend on temperature, moisture, and the quality of the film itself. I've heard of a twenty-year-old film that was developed and still came out looking good."

  "I see; can I ask you what you plan on doing with the camera?"

  “Of course, I plan on reselling it once I get it working properly.”

  “Can I ask you what you plan on selling it for once you do that?”

  “With the extra lenses, I was hoping to get around 300 to 400 dollars.”

  Jesse was sure the price was high, and he didn’t pay nearly that much. However, he was left with no alternative. He wanted to buy it with the film still inside. He was taking a gamble that Peter took the film inside while he was in Vietnam, but it was a gamble he was willing to take.

  “How much would you take just for the camera the way it sits right now?”

  Just by his questions, he knew the man wanted the film and not the camera. He didn’t want to scare off the potential buyer, especially when he knew he could make a fast buck.

  “I guess I’d take 200 just for the camera. Why are you interested?”

  “I might be, but I need to check with someone first. Give me a few minutes, and I’ll be right back.”

  “No problem.”

  Jesse shot out the door and spotted Nils talking with the man interested in buying the John Deere tractor. Nils watched him approach and knew that he had another question judging from the look on his face and his fast gate.

  Both men stopped talking when Jesse finally closed in on them and waited. Seeing this, Jesse said, “I’m sorry for interrupting, but I just have a quick question for Nils, if you don’t mind.”

  The potential buyer nodded, and Jesse said, “Nils, the Nikon camera you found in the bomb shelter has Peter’s initials on it. Do you know anything about it? Did Peter use it in Vietnam?”

  “Yes, the camera belonged to Peter. It was shipped back from Vietnam with the rest of his belongings after….you know.”

  “Are you absolutely positive?”

  “I sure am. I was helping Zed with the chores when the box arrived. The funny thing is the camera wasn’t in the box when we first looked through it.”

  Shawn looked confused and asked, “The camera wasn’t in the box?”

  Nils started to chuckle. “That is until Zed remembered that Peter had a carpenter make a box with a false bottom for him. He had some camera equipment stolen from him before and didn’t want that to happen again.”

  “Do you still have the box?”

  “I put it outside with some other junk by the barn. Let’s take a look. I think it’s still there.”

  Jesse followed Nils past assorted worthless junk until Nils said triumphantly, “There it is.”

  The box wasn't big. It was two-foot square and painted olive green. On top was Peter Jensen's name stenciled in bold black letters with his MN address below it. A rusted piano hinge was attached to the lid and back panel, and a rusted hasp in front for a padlock to secure it. Nils bent down and opened the lid for Jesse to see. It was empty.

  “It took Zed quite a spell to figure it out, but he finally got the false bottom open. Do you see what looks like little vent holes toward the bottom of the side panels?” Nils asked.

  Jesse nodded, waiting for Nils to continue.

  “Well, sir, that carpenter must have been a pretty clever fellow because of all those holes, you had to push in two to open the inside lid. But you had to do it in the right sequence. Let me show you. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

  Jesse watched as Nils walked over to the barn and returned in less than a minute. He inserted a two-inch nail into one of the holes on the right side and then into the next one in the front of the box, four holes down from the corner, Jesse heard an audible click and the inner lid popped open several inches on a unseen spring loaded hinge.

  Jesse was amazed and said, “How did you remember which holes to push after all this time?”

  Nils chuckled again and said, “I didn’t…I remembered that Zed marked the holes with a pencil.”

  Nils pointed to the pencil marks with a sly grin on his large face.

  Jesse smiled back and said, “That makes sense. I would have done the same thing myself.”

  Now Jesse reached into the box and fully opened the inner lip to reveal an amazing sight. On the bottom was a thick foam pad, now quite yellowed with age, with cutouts for two camera bodies and several others that looked like camera lens cutouts. A foam pad was also attached to the bottom of the lid that compressed into the bottom pad, securing the cameras in place.

  “Were both cameras in there when you Zed opened it?” Jesse asked.

  Nils shook his head, “No, just the one in the house, two lenses, and a lot of gold coins.”

  Jesse snapped his head toward Nils, “Gold coins?”

  “Yes sir…gold coins, thirty in fact…twenty dollar 1882 Liberty’s to be exact. They were in a purple sack with a pullstring. You know, like the ones you get when you buy that whiskey or whatever it is.”

  “You remember that it was an 1882 Liberty?” Jesse seemed surprised that Nils still remembered the coin after all those years.

  “Yes, Sir...Zed gave me one. I worked for Mary and Zed that same summer, and Zed gave me one gold coin before I went back to school. He said that it was a bonus for all my hard work. I still have it today. I never sold it.”

  Jesse slowly lowered his head and nodded as if he was in deep thought. The analogy of the thirty pieces wasn’t lost on him.

  He finally looked up and asked, “Do you know if Zed ever used Peter’s camera?”

  Nils started to laugh and said, “Not that I know of…but I can tell you for a certainty that I have never seen the man take any picture with any camera in my life. I don’t think he even owned one. Besides, the camera and lenses were still in the box when I pulled them out last week. I thought Zed sold it, but apparently, he didn’t.”

  Jesse stuck out his hand and said, “Thanks for everything, Nils. You’ve been a great help.”

  Jesse found the man waiting patiently outside his pickup truck.

  “I suppose you’d like cash?”

  The man smiled and said, “Cash would be just fine!”