Poor Man Removes His Lawn and Discovers His Entire Yard Is Covered in Dollars — Story of the Day

Poor man Steven is finally able to replace his lawn and discovers a layer of cash hidden beneath the sod. He imagines a life of wealth and ease, but when others try to claim his money, Steven goes on the run.

"I shouldn’t have joined the Homeowner's Association," Steven muttered as he sliced his patchy lawn into strips.

Steven worked for hours. When he started rolling up the sod, he found something strange.

"What’s this layer of plastic doing here?" Steven exclaimed.

Steven tugged on the corner of the sheet and fell on his butt in amazement. Stacks of dollar bills were hidden beneath the plastic.

"Holy moley," Steven whispered as he stared out across the expanse of his lawn.

Steven started stuffing the money into a trash bag, but then a gust of wind sent the bills swirling into the air. Steven jumped to catch them.

"Wowee! Is that what I think it is?"

Steven's heart leaped into his throat. His neighbor, Billy, was leaning on the picket fence separating their yards.

"Don't tell anyone about this, Billy." Steven hurriedly packed up the money.

"I ain't no gossip, Steve." Billy raised his hands and pulled an innocent face.

The next day, Steven drove to the police station to report the find so it could legally be declared his. Officer Wilson stood when he entered.

"Here’s our lucky guy!” Wilson grinned at him.

Steven shook his head. So much for Billy not gossiping! "I've got to fill out some paperwork before I can legally claim that money, right?"

"Hold on there, Wilson. I hate to put a damper on Mr. Johnson's good fortune, but that money doesn't belong to him."

Steve turned. He clenched his jaw and ground his teeth as he recognized one of the HOA board members he hated the most: Bryan.

"What do you mean, Mr. Smith?" Wilson frowned at the newcomer.

"Y'all know Davis, who lived there before Steve, was part of a gang, don't you?" Bryan glanced from Wilson to Steve.

"Nobody ever proved that, sir." Wilson frowned.

"Only because they were too scared to go against him when he was alive, and there wasn't much point after he passed," Bryan said.

"But only he knew about the money in my safe. Next thing I knew, money was gone. Until now."

"My home was owned by a gangster who stole your money and hid it beneath his lawn? How can you prove that?" Steven asked.

Bryan arched his eyebrows. "The better question is: How are you going to prove it's not my money?"

Wilson pulled a face. "We'll have to investigate, Mr. Johnson. You must bring that money in until the matter is concluded."

"Are you kidding me?" Steven slapped his palm down on the desk. "This man walks in here with a tall tale about gangsters and stolen money, and you're just going to take his word on it?"

"I'm sorry, Mr. Johnson, but we've got to follow protocol,” Wilson said. “You've got until the end of the day to bring in that money."

Steven glared at Wilson and Bryan. This was ridiculous, but he didn't want to get in trouble with the police.

"Fine, I'll bring the money in today," Steven snarled.

Steven climbed into his car. He swore and turned to grab one of the money bags from the backseat. He’d planned to use the cash to turn his dilapidated house into a home suitable for raising a family. He couldn’t let go of that dream so easily.

"This money belongs to me, fair and square, and I won’t give it up."

It seemed like the only way Steven could keep his money was to leave town.

Steven took a complicated detour through the suburbs until he reached the off-ramp, then he swerved across traffic and turned back to avoid the patrol car parked on the verge. He focused more on his rearview mirror than the road ahead as he sped away. He didn't realize when he ran a red light.

Steven swerved just in time to avoid a collision. A siren wailed. Steven glanced back the way he came just as the patrol car's lights came to life. He floored the gas.

Steven pulled into the undercover parking for a mall, grabbed a money bag in each hand, and fled into the night. He sprinted until he reached the next street and stopped dead when he saw a police car drive past.

"They're everywhere," he muttered. He'd have to find a place to lie low so he could figure the best way out of this situation.

The neon lights of a motel sign caught his eye. He dashed across the road, dodging traffic, and entered the motel office.

"Give me a room for the night," he demanded. "I'm paying cash, and I'll give you a big tip to keep my name out the register, understand?"

Steven opened the motel room door just wide enough to enter and locked it once he was inside. He didn’t want anyone to know the room was occupied, so he used the torch on his phone to look around the room.

Steven stared at the phone in his hand. The lock screen showed a picture of the cabin nestled between tall fir trees where he’d stayed on his last camping trip. When he saw it, Steven knew exactly who to call for help.

"Jarred!" Steven exclaimed. "I've got myself into a real fix and I need your help."

"Mr. Do-No-Wrong Steven is in trouble?" Jarred laughed. "What have you done?"

Steven explained everything and begged Jarred for help.

"Luckily you came to the right person,” Jarred replied. “I can solve your problem, so long as you show me the proper appreciation afterward."

The following day, Steven sat in the passenger seat of Jarred's truck, wringing his hands.

"You're all clear on how this is going to play out, right?" Jarred glanced at Steven.

Steven nodded. Jarred thumped him on the shoulder and turned into an undercover parking area. He parked next to Steven's car, and both men climbed out.

They got everything in place for Jarred's plan. A few minutes later, Steven climbed into his car.

"I'm scared, Jarred." Steven turned to look at his friend through the open car window.

"Of course you are, but you're doing the right thing for your future." Jarred grinned at him. "Go now, the sooner you get out there, the sooner you'll be done with this."

Steven drove around town five times before he spotted a police car driving through an intersection.

"Finally!" Steven sighed. He couldn't let that cop car get away!

Steven sped after the police car the moment the traffic lights changed. He chased the patrol car over a hill and through another intersection. As he closed in on the car, he was rewarded with the flash of lights and the siren's wail.

"Good day, Officer." Steven grinned at the police officer who'd approached his window after he pulled over.

The officer peered at Steven for a moment, then beckoned to her partner. Steven watched with anticipation as the two officers spoke together.

“I’m going to need you to step out of the vehicle.” The first officer said when she returned to the car. "You're a wanted man and I'm placing you under arrest!"

Steven stepped out of the car with his hands in the air while the second police officer searched his car.

"This is what we're looking for!" The second officer exclaimed when he opened one of the bags on the backseat. A few minutes later, he turned to Steven with narrowed eyes.

“This is all counterfeit. What have you done with the real money?”

"That money ain't counterfeit, it can't be!" Steven tried to angle his head to get a better look at the money in the second cop's hand. "You mean to tell me I did all of this for fake money? That all this cash is worthless?"

"It would appear so, mister."

The police kept Steven in jail for three days, but since they couldn't charge him with anything, they had to let Steven go. Jarred was waiting when he was released.

"Not everyone would've had the guts to do what you did," Jarred said as they drove away.

"I had no choice." Steven shrugged. "The police would've caught up to me eventually no matter how well I hid."

"Well, there won't be any more hiding for you." Jarred grinned. "Can't prosecute a man for trying to keep a treasure that turned out to be fake, right?"

Jarred drove them straight to his motel. They locked themselves in the room then Jarred reached under the bed and started pulling out trash bags.

"Here's your real treasure," Jarred said. "Safe and sound, just like I promised."

"My new life starts now!" Steven opened the bag and threw a handful of cash into the air. Life sure was good, but a heavy knock at the door ended it all.

"Must be the takeout I ordered," Jarred said as he walked to the door. He waited until Steven had tidied all the money away and then unlocked the door.

Immediately, the door pushed open with enough force to send Jarred reeling. One man pushed through, then another. A third slipped in behind them and locked the door once more.

"What do you think you're doing?" Steven cried out.

"Claiming what's rightfully mine." The third man turned and pointed a gun at his head.

"I'll be taking back the money Davis stole for me now." The man grinned. "And thank you very much for ensuring the police will never come looking for it."

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