Edgar backed the truck into the garage and hit the control button that would bring down the garage door. He got out and grabbed his coat and lunch pail off of the seat, before pressing the door lock down and kicking it closed with his foot. He whistled as he flipped through his keys with one hand, to find the one that would gain entrance into his humble abode. Before the desired key could come to his attention, a dark form in the back of his truck caught his eye. It contrasted with the bright candy apple red of his truck and whatever it was, it shouldn’t have been there. He stopped and turned, walking over to his truck bed to examine the duffle bag that did not belong to him. Where had it come from? How did it get into the back of his truck? Edgar didn’t know, but he was damn sure going to find out. He grabbed it by the strap and hoisted it up onto his shoulder. Then he turned back to the door, shuffled again through the keys until he found the right one, and went into his house.

He dropped the mysterious duffle bag on the floor, next to his place at the table, hung his coat up on the hook by the door, and emptied the containers from his lunch pail and the lunch pail itself into the sink to be washed. Edgar went into the other room and flipped on the stereo. Neil Young’s “Heart of Gold” came floating into the kitchen in soft undercurrents. He sat in his chair and hoisted the duffle bag up onto the table. “Let’s just see what we have here.” He spoke to the empty kitchen. He unzipped the bag and spread the sides wide in order to view the contents. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. He couldn’t believe what he saw within the duffle bag, but a knot had begun to form in the pit of his stomach as he stared at what was contained within.

He reached inside and pushed the two large baggies of marijuana to one side, only to reveal a substantial amount of cash lying beneath them, in hundred dollar bills. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed again, this time pulling his hand back, as if bitten by a rattlesnake. This wasn’t good, Edgar knew that for sure, but it caused so many questions to run through his head that he was having a hard time grasping even one, in order to ponder it for a few minutes, to search for an answer. First and foremost, what the hell was this bag doing in the back of his truck? How did it get there? And who did it belong to? He had no answers, but what he was at least pretty sure of, was that whoever owned it was going to want it back. That was kind of a scary thought. People who possessed duffle bags full of drugs and cash were usually drug dealers, and they usually didn’t play well with others. He also drew blanks when trying to come up with answers to what his next move should be. That was yet another perplexing puzzler.