Free Finders Keepers by Catherine Palmer

collection of bills. “Ta-dahh!” she exclaimed, throwing up her arms in a victory cheer. “You’re too late, Pop. Better move faster next time.”
    “Aw, rats. It’s those long legs of yours, Miss Hayes. You catch me every time.”
    With a laugh and a wave, she headed back across the sidewalk. A glance at the Corner Market told her something was amiss. The green striped awning was rolled up as Boompah had left it—but the front door stood ajar, its brass bells jingling in the breeze. A fruit cart filled with fresh cherries brightened the sidewalk. The collection of daily newspapers by the front door had been taken inside. A hand-lettered sign in Boompah’s neat calligraphy fluttered from the door handle: OPEN.
    “Boompah?” she breathed. He had been bedridden and achy the night before. How could the old man have bounced back so quickly? Though worry tugged at her heart, Elizabeth raced down the sidewalk, eager to greet her friend. He would need to take it slowly, and he shouldn’t be rolling his fruit cart outside all by himself, she thought.
    He’d need help unrolling the awning. He could hardly reach the handle and— Her breath caught in her throat as Zachary Chalmers stepped outside the Corner Market and stuck a sign into the fruit cart: Farm Fresh Cherries, $1.20 lb. Spotting her, he lifted a hand, and that unexpected grin spread across his face.
    “Morning!” he called. “Want some cherries? Better get them now. They’re going fast.”
    Elizabeth hardly glanced at the slow-moving traffic as she crossed the street. “I thought you went on vacation.”
    “Missed me, did you?”
    “No, I—” She let out a breath. “What are you doing here? Where’s Boompah?”
    “Home in bed. I stopped by to see him on my way out of town last week before I drove down to the lake. The whole time I was at my cabin trying to relax and catch a few crappie, I kept thinking about Boompah and the empty store. You know how Mrs. McCann is about her groceries. So, I came back and opened it for him.”
    “You did?”
    “I did.” He shrugged. “So?”
    “How do you know about Mrs. McCann’s groceries?”
    “I live here, don’t I?”
    “Well, I … but I didn’t think …” She could hardly speak. “You’ll need to unroll the awning. It’ll keep the store cooler inside after the sun hits those windows. Boompah doesn’t believe in air-conditioning.”
    He squinted into the sun and peered at the green-striped canvas. “I guess you turn that handle there?”
    “First you have to push the thingie by the door.” She went over and moved the mechanism that released the latch. “Now you turn the handle over there. Boompah needs to get this repaired. One of these days he’s going to get clob—”
    The awning suddenly unrolled like a Japanese fan, the metal ribs clattering open and the canvas giving a loud foompf. Zachary winced as he supported the frame on one shoulder while trying to straighten the tangle of canvas with his free hand. Elizabeth leapt to his aid, pushing up to bear some of the weight.
    “I think it came unscrewed at the top,” she panted.
    “Is it still attached to the wall?”
    “Barely. One corner is swaying … and … uh-oh!” She grabbed the awning as it toppled over, knocking the man to the sidewalk and burying him in billows of dusty, sun-bleached canvas. Elizabeth dropped to her knees and pushed at the fabric.
    “Are you all right? Can you hear me?”
    “I’m seeing stars. Is it night?”
    “Oh, thank God you’re OK. I can get you out, but I’ll need to move this pole here—”
    “Elizabeth.” His hand emerged from under the awning and grabbed hers. “Get … Bud Huff.”
    “I can do this, Zachary. If I can just lift this off your chest—”
    “Get … Bud … now!”
    “OK, OK, just a minute.” Heart hammering, she flew across the street to the hardware store. Bud was sorting nails in the big metal bin at the back. “You have to come! The awning fell on Zachary, and I