Unloading a brief case and a hanging bag. They sit beside the SUV's back door while I grab my cell phone off the front seat. I had seen him down the block moving slow on a green bike. He is beside me on the sidewalk as I hit lock on the key and turn. Maybe 9 years old. He and the bike a little worse for wear.
"Mister, do you need some help?"
I smile. "Thank you. Very kind. But it isn't much to carry."
His face shifts from expectant to sad.
"I need to earn some money.