Baby Steps

You know the expression curiosity killed the cat? Well, for whatever reason, I decided to try out that theory. Stupid! I know! But the impulse was just too great. I could have walked away and acted like it was never there. I could have reported the break-in.

“Or I could have just not gotten out of bed today!”

Of course, yelling out the window and pounding the steering wheel won’t help. But it feels good.

“And I don’t like this car!” As I pound the wheel a few more times for posterity.

All I needed was a small container of photos out of the storage unit. Nothing else. Certainly not what I found as I slid up the rolling storage door. Not sure ninety bucks a month is worth all this.

This was supposed to be an uneventful Saturday. Some football, chips and drinks, and looking at the past few years’ worth of memories. I wonder what she would say if she was still here? She would tell me that if I would have just emptied the unit and moved everything into the apartment, since it's been a few weeks, this would not have happened. And as always, she would have been right.

I should have turned around and left when I saw the lock cut. It was still on there and fashioned as if someone was trying to hide the break in. “First clue!” But no, I had to be the cat. “And I don’t even like cats!” So glad no one is around to hear me.

I was worried that everything was gone. What would I do without the pictures? That was the only thing I had left of her. A few trinkets, but mainly the photos. When you spend half your life with someone, it’s not easy to move past those memories. You take for granted those who are around all the time. At least I did. “Don’t know what you got till…” Apparently, I am a walking cliché today.

This was supposed to be a new start. Granted the new start was only a few blocks from where I spent the last twenty years, but it is still a step in the right direction. I know, I shouldn’t say it, but today… “Baby steps.”

Clichés aside, the rear view mirror is clear and nothing for miles in front of me. Never thought the panhandle of Texas would look so good.

When I saw everything in the storage unit unharmed, I had to bend over and breathe, and try to keep from hyperventilating. But why would anyone cut the lock and then just leave it looking like nothing is wrong? Then I saw it. The very thing that has changed my life.

So much for the baby steps.

It was a brown envelope. It was about the size of that prize junk mail you get. The one promising thousands of dollars a week for life. However, this envelope was much thicker. I would like to say at this time I really contemplated the possibilities of what I was about to do. But I would be lying. I really wanted to know what was in that envelope. Again, the cat.

Upon opening said envelope, I noticed quite a few slips of paper. Not just any paper, but the ones with Benjamin Franklin on them. About two hundred of them to be exact. I put the money on the boxes and just looked at it. As if it was going to tell me how it got there all on its own. Of course, I also made the proverbial “look around” to make sure no one was watching. I tried to be subtle. I watch spy movies.

With no one around, at least as far as I could tell, I recounted the money. Sure enough, there was twenty thousand sitting there. “So am I rich or in trouble?” Please, I watch spy movies. I was not rich.

There was something under the envelope. A little black book about the size of a pocket notebook. A piece of paper was sitting on top under the strap that kept the notebook closed. The paper looked to be instructions of some sort. I pulled back the strap and opened the book. It contained several lines of letters and numbers. There were several throughout the book. I did a search on my phone to check out one of the numbers. Best I could tell these numbers were IBAN numbers. Bank account numbers for banks in other countries. “Man I wish I never watched those spy movies.”

The piece of paper explained that this little black book needed to get to Arizona within the next three days. It said that I should keep a lookout for a big black SUV with big men and guns. “Right. They will be right there waiting on me.” I figured I would just go home and think about what my next move would be. Boy was I wrong.

Next, the paper told me to go to Harry’s Auto in town, take ten thousand, and buy the 2012 Honda Civic that was on hold for me. At first, I thought there was no way, because Harry was a crook. Besides, none of those cars will get me to Arizona.

Once I closed the door to the storage unit, I placed the lock back on and positioned it to look like it was locked. No telling how long it worked before, hopefully it will work a little longer.

As I pulled out of the security gate, the urge to go home suddenly left. Because across the street, there they were. Just like in the movies. A big black SUV with blacked out windows and two apes who took up the entire front windshield sitting there staring right at me.

“Guess I’m going to Harry’s.”

I was able to pull out into a little traffic; at least enough to make it hard for them to follow me as I went through some back streets and alleys. The SUV had started out behind me, but I was able to lose them before I got to Harry’s.

Once at Harry’s, I told him I wanted the Honda, and he told me it was gassed up and ready to go. So I dropped the ten grand and handed over my car keys to keep my car there. I sure hope nothing happens to it. I still have payments.

The car was small and the smell was a mix of new car, skunk, and cigarettes. Great way to travel.

I pulled out of the parking lot as the SUV passed by. I saw in my rear view that the SUV did a U-turn back to Harry’s. As they pulled in, I made my way into those back streets and alleys.

A few miles away from Harry’s, I pulled back on the main road to get to the interstate. At a stop light, I read the next thing on the note. It said to use cash instead of credit cards. “Really! Of course, I won’t use my cards! They have my name now! I watch spy movies!” The lady in the car next to me slowly rolled up her window. I forgot I had rolled mine down because of the smell.

I made my way out of town without the ape patrol. Hit the interstate and was off for Arizona. And I thought this day might be boring.

So, here I am driving across America, praying that I make it to Arizona. Between this car and that SUV, I’ll need some divine intervention. All I can do now is keep driving. I continue to look in the mirrors hoping I don’t see a black SUV.

I’ll keep going. Eating drive thru. Sleeping off the road and behind buildings for a few hours. And we’ll see what’s in Arizona. Here’s to baby steps.