Dark Fortune

It’s a hot Summer night, the ones that are hotter than when the sun is overhead, as Marcus sits on the front porch swaying back and forth in a rocking chair to kill the last remaining hours of the night. Trying to sleep at this point would be futile with the stifling heat of his bedroom on the third floor of his mother’s house. The feeling of being nearly forty and again living back home is depressing in every way possible for him. Everything he worked for, fought for, planned for, and executed, all but disappeared in a flash of a moment when his, now ex, wife decided to empty their accounts and vanish into an unknown existence. That day, the day, one he can’t forget, one that is burned into his frontal lobe forever more, he pulled into his driveway, slipped his key into the lock on the front door and it wouldn’t turn. He stood there confounded with questions. More than he possibly could compute in the seconds that led up to the following events.

Dumbfounded, standing there aloof the front door swung open with a Caucasian woman standing in his doorway.

“May I help you?” She asked

“Ummm.” Is all Marcus could get out

“Can I help you?” she asked again

“Well.” He looks back at his car parked in the driveway then back at her with a puzzled look, “well, I live here?” He says in a way that comes out as a question.

“Excuse me? I live here.” She states profoundly

“But I live here. I’ve lived here for almost ten years.” He reaches into his back pocket for his wallet, “Here look at my license.”

“I’m not looking at anything. We just bought this house so I’m going to have to ask you to leave sir.”

“But I… this is… what?”

“If you don’t go, I will be calling the police.” She barked as she slammed the door in his face. Marcus couldn’t fathom the reality of what just happened, never mind what is about to happen to him. As he walked back to his car, he could hear the sirens in the distance.

It took nearly three weeks for Marcus to absorb the reality of what his wife did to him. Emptying all of their accounts, selling the house, dissolving their business right under his nose without catching a suspicion. So, there he sits on the front porch waiting to start his new job in just a few hours. His old life consisted of brokering deals in real estate and development and now he will be brokering deals with a sledgehammer, a shovel, and a dumpster. The one thought he carries to help him get through this time is that he’ll be able to destroy things with the thought and encouragement that it is his ex-wife. With every blow of his hammer that day he envisioned her face being smashing to pieces.

“Hey, Marcus!” the foreman yells out, “I need you to start tearing the basement apart. And I need it done by the end of the day. You got it?”

“You realize it’s almost two o’clock?” Marcus pointed out

“I’m happy to know you can tell time. Get it done.”

“Yes, boss.” Marcus heads to the basement alone. The walls are covered in thick plaster that seems to be infested with mold. He covers his face with a bandana doing his best to protect his lungs from the dust. He finds a target, takes aim, and smashes away. After the third blow a heavy box falls to his feet halting his progress. As he bends down to see what it is, he nervously looks over his shoulder. The box, what seems to be a briefcase of sorts, is locked. After finding a screwdriver he pries it open finding the box stuffed with cash; stacked to the brim. He thinks there could be ten thousand maybe even fifteen stacked so neatly with precision.

“How’s it going down there, newbie?” the foreman yells down. Marcus quickly hides the case and gets back to work.

“Just fine. Making good progress.” Marcus yells back

Unsure how to get the case out of the house undetected he hides it in one of the window wells to be pickup after everyone has left.

Back at his mother’s house he takes out each bundle of twenties spreading the cash across his bed. After removing the first row he begins digging into the second. As he picks up the one of the bundles, he notices a hidden object poking out from under the stacks. He picks it up, a little black notebook with a rubber band wrapped around it in a weak attempt to keep it private. He tucks it into his pocket to deal with later and turns his attention back to the twenty-thousand dollars that lie in front of him as he stands over it in awe. Knowing this isn’t enough to change his life but he has an idea to get his life back. The following day he makes a few phone calls to former colleagues to set his plan in motion. In the coming weeks he continues to swing a hammer and demo piece by piece, the very house that gave up its little fortune.

After a long grueling day Marcus plopped down onto his small twin bed on the third floor of his mother’s house. Everything almost in place to pull off his little scheme to get him back on top, the stress has been unbearable the past few days. With his arm flopped over his face blocking the setting sun from his eyes he remembers the little black book. After a few minutes of searching for it he finally uncovers it. Rubber band still in place binding the little book shut. With just a small tug at it the rubber snaps from dry rot, falling to his feet. He turns to the first page as he finds it to be blank. He continues to flip through the pages finding only the absence of information. All until he gets to the very center of the little black book. There reads a singular sentence.

“Do with this as you may, as I hope it brings back what was taken.”

How? Is all that could come to Marcus. He shut the notebook and placed it back where it was stowed and went on with his evening as if nothing has changed.

Two weeks later, Marcus sits in his car watching his bank manager’s office from across the street. Everything is set in motion, everything thought of, planned for, and scrutinized to the nth degree. He sits anxious for this to be over, to be able to watch the look of everything falling apart around her, is making him sweat. As a high-priced luxury car pulls in front of the bank, a large man in a tight suit steps out of the driver’s side. He walks to the rear passenger door, escorting Marlena into the bank. He lifts a pair of binoculars to his face as she shakes hands with the manager and takes a seat. He takes a deep breath, puts his head back, and closes his eyes as all he can do is wait for it to be done.

A month later sitting on a beach in the Caribbean sipping a heavily sugared cocktail with a beautiful woman beside him, he can’t help but chuckle as his cellphone rings.

“Hello, this is Marcus.” He answers

“Marcus, you’re going to burn in hell for this, I swear to god I will take you down.” an angry female voice says on the other end

“Marlena, is this you?”

“You know goddamn well who it is. I want it all back. I’m going to get it ALL BACK!” Marlena screams at Marcus

“If you were smart you wouldn’t make such threats like that.”

“Like I said, I hope you burn in hell.”

“Well, I’m burning, but I believe I’m in heaven. Either way I’m enjoying myself. Goodbye Marlena and say hi to your cellmate for me.” Marcus hangs up the phone and proceeds to doze off with the sun shining down upon him.