The Rusted Key
The old man ran his hand over the smooth grain of an unfinished oak table.
“Things were simpler out here, Alvin,” he said.
“Why, Dad?” “If a board was warped, you could see it.
You knew exactly where the flaw was.” Alvin sat on a workbench across from his father.
“Tell me what happened with Derek,” he said.
And Manuel, with a heavy sigh and slumping shoulders, finally told him.
Five years earlier, Derek had invested in a commercial remodeling venture that had collapsed under mismanaged contracts and predatory loans and a partner who fled the state, leaving Derek facing nearly a hundred and seventy thousand dollars in immediate debt.
“Where did the money come from to bail him out?” Alvin asked quietly.