The Wall of Love & Good Fortune

It was my last day, and it was time. Thirty years on the force, eighteen as the robbery unit's lead detective. I dedicated my life to this job and the community I serve, but my tacklebox was ready, and I could hear the loons calling over the glass-calm misty morning water. Is there a prettier sound? If so, I haven’t heard it.

I thought I’d feel anticipanxious, like a snorting racehorse, bumping the gate, but it was much worse than that… I felt ordinary, like this was just another day.

True to his bull-like entrances, Randy stormed in and snapped me out of my trance.

“Last day eh, Jack. I’ll miss ya, but I trust you know you’re leaving the place in good hands.”

I didn’t, and I could tell from his sleeplessness-induced, bloodshot eyes, neither did Randy. This was his show now whether he was prepared for it or not; I taught him everything I know ~ time would tell if it stuck.

“You’re going to be just fine,” I said, trying to sound convincing.

Randy was the type of overzealous cop who came out of the womb wearing a badge. A decade later, and he still smelled like that rookie aroma ~ a je ne sais quoi cocktail ~ eager, unjaded, and determined to save the world. The archetype you want behind the uniform… I reckon, at least in theory.

And I was hard on him because he lacked instinct and would jump in headfirst. But Randy made up for his shortcomings with bravery, tenacity, and a pure heart.

“Do you want to take this last call with me, Jack? The lady says she’s an old friend of yours.”

I didn’t have too many old friends, so I knew exactly who she was before Randy confirmed.

“The renovators opened up the wall and found this bag,” Sofia said, arms crossed and pacing frantically. “Why on earth would this be in here?”

Sofia and I had a thick history ~ the kind with teeth, the kind you try to forget. We were barely in our twenties, and I was too naïve to realize a passion like ours only comes along once in a lifetime ~ and that's if you’re lucky.

Many years ago, I picked the job instead of her, and Sofia moved to California to pursue her writing career. We stayed in touch for a while, mostly by exchanging postcards and letters. For me, she's the one that got away, and my heart has paid for it every single day since.

Two years ago, Sofia had returned to our hometown and bought this house next to her elderly parents.

“I couldn’t imagine what might be in this bag, and I don’t dare to open it,” she exclaimed. “What if it’s something terrible?”

I looked at Randy as I cautiously unzipped the dusty duffel bag.

“My goodness! Is that all... CASH?” Randy shrilled.

Bewildered, I sifted through the seemingly endless stacks of money.

Sofia gasped, “Oh my gosh. OK, well, whose is it?”

“I think whatever’s in this will provide a clue,” I said as I opened the interior hidden side-pocket.

Gently fishing the item out, I held a fine quality, still-soft-to-the-touch little black book. The page edges were slightly yellowed and crinkled from age, yet the leather remained pristine and supple.

“Built to last,” Randy snickered.

As we flipped through it, what appeared to be codes or mathematical equations lined the pages. 1.e4, e5; 2. nf3, nc6; 3. bc4...

“Giuoco Piano, the quiet game,” Sofia muttered.

“Giuoco, the what?” Randy responded, scratching his head.

“It’s chess; these are opening moves of a chess game,” Sofia explained. “Remember Jack? I tried to teach it to you back when we got snowed in on that road trip to Vermont?”

“Oh, I remember. I had other plans for us.” I said. Sofia's cheeks flush as she looks away.

“This book contains the recorded moves of hundreds of chess matches,” Sofia said.

“This is a solid clue as to this bag's rightful owner. I’m off to the records office to do some digging.”

And with that, I left Sofia and Randy to count the contents of the bag.

It didn’t take long for me to find answers and return to Sofia's house.

Immediately, Randy greeted me at the door, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed “Jack, you’re not going to believe it, but there is..” I cut him off before he finished, “Twenty thousand dollars.”

“It belonged to a chess master. He used this notebook primarily to catch his thoughts and record his killer moves.”

Sofia glances at the mountain of money on her kitchen table. “So, you found the owner, Jack?”

I smirk and reply, “Yes, but I’m going to need you to sit down for this one.” Stubborn as always, she reluctantly agrees.

I place my hand on the back of Sofia’s hand; she doesn’t pull away.

“There was only one previous owner of this house, so this bag belonged to him. He was a bit of a recluse, mainly kept to himself but was known to be brilliant, especially with chess.”

“Go on,” Sofia asks, with a look of contemplation. I continue, trying to maintain my focus. Is it just me, or does she get even more beautiful with age?

“He won some pretty significant matches. Including this second-last entry.”

Randy interjected, “The twenty-thousand-dollar grand prize from the Critical Thinking Olympics.”

Sofia gasped, as her hand goes over her mouth. “Right. Well, now that you know him, we can return this him, yes?”

“Not, exactly,” I answer. “Unfortunately. He passed away two years ago, the same year you bought this place. I investigated his background, he was an only child, both his parents are long gone, and he has no surviving relatives.”

“Jack, what does this mean? Surely there is something we can do; someone we can find to give back this money?” Sofia questioned.

“Sofia, this money belongs to you. It’s on your property. It came with the house, and since there are no surviving relatives, nor a will, it’s yours. Finders’ keepers.” I explained.

Sofia responded with harsh conviction, “No. I mean… I could never! This money does not belong to me, I didn’t earn in this, so I don’t deserve to keep it!”

She placed her tapping finger over her lips, deep in thought. Sofia looked at Jack, then Randy.

“Randy, will you please excuse us a minute?”

And suddenly, we were alone.

“Jack, I can’t possibly keep this money and have a clear conscience, it doesn’t belong to me.”

“It DOES belong to you Sofia. The law says so, but whatever you decide to do with it, I’ll support you.” I leaned in, the back of my hand cupping my mouth. “A return trip to Vermont might be nice…”

“I think we should use this money to help our community. Perhaps we can seed that creative arts school I always dreamt of opening for underprivileged girls.” Sofia said, radiating with joy.

“You have always been the most selfless person I know. It’s one of the things I admire about you,” I replied.

“Thank you, Jack. I feel the beauty of the written word is becoming a lost art. With the age of technology, texting, social media, email. It doesn't compare to the elegance of putting pen to paper. You know, similar to those letters we used to send each other so long ago. So, shall we do it? Will you join me?”

“Well, I do suddenly have a lot of extra time. Yes.” I said, with a beaming smile. “But only if you promise to teach me chess.”

“It’s a deal,” she said, gently taking my hand in hers.

And suddenly, I didn’t feel so ordinary anymore.