It was a Saturday afternoon. Derek was in the back office throwing old parts catalogs into a black trash bag. I was at the front counter making a list of Walt’s tools for the estate inventory.
I heard him go quiet.
When I walked into the office, he was standing on a step stool holding the red Folgers can in both hands. The plastic lid was off. He was staring down into it.
It was stuffed so full of folded yellow paper that some of it spilled over the edge.
“Aunt Carol,” he said slowly. “What is this?”
“That’s your dad’s IOU can,” I said. “From the farm crisis. And after.”
He climbed down off the stool. He dumped the whole thing out on Walt’s old metal desk.
Three hundred and eleven little yellow slips of paper. Some of them so old the ink had faded to brown. Some of them signed. Some of them just names and numbers in Walt’s handwriting.
Derek picked one up and read it.
“March 12, 1985. Dale Kruger. Rebuilt transmission, 1979 Ford F-250. $1,140. Signed, Dale Kruger.”
He picked up another one.
“September 3, 1986. Harlan Petersen. Combine repair, header and feeder house. $2,860.”
He kept going. Faster and faster.
“Mom never told me about this,” he said.
“Your mom knew. Everybody knew.”
He pulled out his phone. He started typing numbers into the calculator. I watched him do it. Slip after slip after slip.
It took him almost an hour.
When he finished, he turned the phone around and showed me the screen.
$84,600.
“Aunt Carol,” Derek said. His eyes were bright in a way I didn’t like. “This is real money.”
“It was real money,” I said. “Forty years ago. To people who didn’t have any.”
“Some of these people have plenty of money now.” He held up a slip. “Dale Kruger? Isn’t his son the one who owns Kruger Implement? The John Deere dealership in Spencer and Spirit Lake?”
“Yes.”
“And Harlan Petersen. Didn’t his family just sell their land to a wind farm company?”
“I believe so.”
Derek started sorting the IOUs into piles on Walt’s desk.
I felt something cold settle into my stomach.
“Derek,” I said. “What are you doing?”
“I’m figuring out who can pay,” he said.
Specialty: Quiet Comebacks & Personal Justice
David Reynolds focuses on stories where underestimated individuals regain control of their lives. His writing centers on measured decisions rather than dramatic outbursts — emphasizing preparation, patience, and the long game. His characters don’t shout; they act.