Pecans

On Sundays my aunt, 75, catches a ride with me to the morning service. Along our weekly route we pass a pecan-shelling shack. People can buy or sell pecans. I read a homemade sign advertising that the owner was paying 85 cents a pound.
As a kid I’d pick pecans from my uncle’s tree for what seemed like hours in the cold. My bony fingers trembled as I picked each seed, and for my hard work he’d pay me between $10-15 --though I gathered no more than two pounds, he was a kind old man.
I brought my half-full bag in to him grinning like I’d had a corker sack full.
Everyone usually has their own tree in their own yard.
I can’t remember exactly what the going price was for pecans then but that day the owner paid up to 85 cents. It sounded like a great deal. Today, I wouldn’t mind picking, but as a college student trying to juggle several jobs I just don’t have that type of time to dedicate myself to pick a great haul. $10-15 isn’t even a full tank of gas!
As if she read my thoughts, my aunt told me that Boon, the neighborhood handyman/drunk/panhandler picked ‘tween $300-400 worth of pecans.’
“Wow! That’s great, I’m very proud of Boon,” I said with the knowledge of whence Boon came from.
Boon used to be a petty criminal and people in the hood kept him around to wash cars, windows, nail a few things together here and there, small outdoor tasks just to keep his mind busy. (An idle mind is the Devil’s workshop) As long as Boon was out of trouble he did meager jobs to get a little money for his beer on weekends. A simple man, with bad teeth he wore ill-fitted rags and smelled from time to time, but that came from his hours of walking the streets with a hammer in his back pocket. I could see Boon now, maybe with the money I figured he could get himself a fresh sweater instead of the holey one he sported. Then I thought about how hard Boon had to work to get that many pecans. As I thought, my aunt praised Boon and I agreed.
“Boon did a really great job. That’s hard work,” I said.
I’d even considered adopting his work ethic for a minute. Until my aunt added;
“Yeah, he made plenty money picking and don’t got ‘nah tree.”