Changing Lanes

You know those distinct words that someone said to you, that stick in your memories forever? Maybe you structured your life around these words. Maybe they were the words that haunted you, when you made a mistake. My words came from my mom. My mom used to always tell me, “what goes around, comes around.”

You don’t have to tell me how generic this is. It probably won’t come as much of a surprise but these words didn’t help me win the Nobel Peace prize. They didn’t help me become an admired doctor. (Sorry Mom.) Although, I will tell you that those five simple words, completely and unexpectedly, changed my life.

My dad passed away, when I was an 11 year old girl. I always felt like heaven knew he was gone that day. The day his funeral came, the sky hazed over. Raindrops fell down and the sky seemed to cry along with me. In an effort to comfort me as a child, my mom reached for my hand. I jerked it away.

“What goes around comes around? What did I do to deserve this then?” I snapped angrily. The burden I carried in my heart, manifested itself into someone else. Someone who believed life had no mercy for anyone. And ‘karma’ was merely a fairytale used for children.

After my dad passed, money became tighter than ever. Often, I was given a firm, “no” by my mom for anything I wanted to purchase.

I started to detest her. Not only did I not have a dad, but I had the orphan attire to match it. I hadn’t even seen her cry about my dad. Except for a few silent tears trickling down her face at the funeral. She didn’t even let his death break her tough demeanor.

I will say, my mom at least instilled kindness in me. However, I couldn’t tell you exactly why I did what I did that day. The day that changed everything. I wasn’t usually one to help others.

The incident happened at my best friend Bea’s mom’s coffee shop. Bea was the pea to my pod. My world was gray before. She brought color back to it. Bea’s mom ran a very successful coffee shop. People raved about it being the best coffee in town.

An old woman, I can never forget, came one day for the anticipated coffee. She carried a small Scottish terrier in one arm, fondly petting the dog with one hand while gracefully carrying her coffee in another.

She exited the shop. And out of nowhere, I heard a shriek from the woman. Then, I heard barking. The small terrier she had cocooned within her arms had fleeted from her. The terrier zipped passed, chasing another small dog. Her delicious coffee laid in a miserable puddle on the sidewalk.

“Jacks!! Get back here Jacks!” The woman hollered. She was mortified. And without a moments notice, I rushed out of the coffee shop after the dog, Jacks. Cars honked as I dashed in front of them.

Jacks now shifted to the opposite side of the street. I knew if I didn’t hurry, Jacks would likely be hit. As if to confirm my fears, a car zoomed toward Jacks. In the flick of an eye, I knew I only had a few seconds to spare.

I sprinted and dove towards Jacks. Scooping the feisty dog into my arms, I rolled within the same motion. The asphalt mercilessly grazed my elbows. The oncoming car slammed on their breaks. Though, delayed the car lurched onwards, with the same ferocious tenacity. I managed to barely roll out of its destructive path.

The driver was okay. I had some cuts from road rash on my elbows. I was happy then. But part of me just wished someone had saved my dad like I had saved this dog.

Afterwards, the older woman held Jacks adoringly. Cradling him. “Oh Jacks! You fool! You half brain! I already told you I am leaving this life first!” She cried out almost hysterical, as he licked her face.

I could tell Jacks was her best friend. She put her eyes towards me as if suddenly remembering, I was there. I wasn’t well with emotion. So I shrugged off the situation casually.

“My mom says what goes around, comes around.” I laughed awkwardly. I hoped that explanation would be good enough for my act of compassion.

“And you believe this?” She spoke to me for the first time. I felt a compelling force to be honest with her. I could of lied but said, “No, I don’t. Bad things happen to good people.” Her eyes widened at my response.

“You don’t have to thank me. Have a great rest of your day.” I spoke quickly. I turned around and walked off, not even looking back, wondering what story I would tell Bea, for why I left her mom’s shop. She was supposed to meet me there.

The very next day, after the strange incident, my mom hollered for me from down our staircase. “Honey! Beatrice is on the phone.” She hadn’t rang the day before and honestly I understood. I left without any explanation.

I grabbed the cordless home phone from downstairs. I couldn’t even have the luxury of a cell phone, like almost all the girls in my class. Bea’s caller I.D. illuminated the phone's screen. “Hey, Bea sorry about yesterday-“ I began.

“Miss Magnes? Skylar Magnes.” A young woman’s voice I had never heard, greeted me. “Where’s B-Beatrice?” I stuttered beyond confused. “Ahh yes, I had to use her caller I.D. for your mother” My heartbeat accelerated. “Is she okay?” I asked quietly.

“Yes, of course she is Miss Magnes. This isn’t Beatrice's phone line- just a falsified number, used to maintain secrecy.” I was beyond confused and before I could ask anything she continued. “I suppose I’ll cut to the chase. Yesterday, you displayed an act of heroism and the woman you saved-“ I cut her off.

“I told her she didn’t have to thank me.”

“Yes, Mrs. Swade is aware you don’t want thanks.” She pressed on. “Rather odd.... so she has chosen to instead show her gratitude.” I stuttered again. “I-I don’t understand?” The well spoken woman didn’t skip a beat. “Mrs. Swade would like to give you a nice sum of money for your efforts, in the amount of $20,000.”

I laughed. I couldn’t help it. I kept laughing until a couple snorts came out. “Miss Magnes are you quite done?” I grew extremely silent. She sounded...serious?

“This isn’t a joke. Mrs. Swade is an honorable woman of her word. When your mother goes to sleep, go out to your mailbox, and you’ll receive your first installment. There will be a card. The card contains $5,000 on it. You are free to spend the money as you please. Once it is spent- do you have pen and paper?”

“Yes.” I said shuffling around to retrieve one. I wrote down the number she gave. “Once you’ve spent the first installment and you require more money, call that number. You will be supplied with more money until the $20,000 is spent.”

Adrenaline pumped through my body. This couldn’t be real. Could it?

“Oh one last thing Mrs. Magnes.”

“Yes?” I said hoarsely, the words barely coming out.

“Mrs. Swade requires you keep this strictly confidential. Nobody is to know you have acquired this money from her. Not your mom, not your little friend Bea. No one. If anyone notices anything strange tell them your mother got a new job. And, well, with the story for your mother, I suppose you can get creative. This is gravely important. If you breach this verbal contract you will be cut off from the money. And Skylar, we will know. You know how to reach me.” The phone disconnected.

That evening after my mom fell asleep, I clambered into the depths of the night. With a shaky hand, I opened my mailbox. To my surprise, a heavy golden card laid nestled in the box, confirming I wasn’t dreaming. I had gone to the poorest girl in school to a new status quo. My life had changed completely.

First, with my newfound money, I went shopping at the most high profile stores. I bought the most extravagant clothes. Clothes of the finest quality. I looked in the mirror at my reflection, smiling sweetly. I was high off of it all.

I hid all the fancy clothes and jewelry I purchased, in trash bags in my closet from my mom. Before school, I wore my regular clothes for my mom to see. Then, I would change into the new ones in the school bathroom. Everyone at school started to notice my appearance. I quickly became popular.

For some reason Bea wasn’t impressed. I was angry with her for not being happy about my “moms new job”. We ended up getting into a huge fight.

“You were better before your mom got more money! I liked the Skylar before...” Was her final words to me. Those words were a blow. Memories played in my head of Bea hugging me after my dad had died.

After school, I went into my mom’s room feeling sad. I needed her comfort. Unfortunately she wasn’t even there. I remembered she was at her second job. I started to leave her room feeling discouraged.

Before I left, I heard a thud. A little black notebook mysteriously had fallen off her bookshelf. I had never noticed it before. I opened it curiously. Inside were journal entries from my mom written to Ricky. Ricky was my dad:

Dear Ricky,

Your sister told me I should pull Skylar out of her private school. She says paying for the mortgage on the house is already enough. But, everything has already changed so much for her. I refuse to let anything else change. Plus, we always said that some of the most successful people had attended her school. We always said how we wished our parents put us in private school. I can never give up on our dreams, Ricky.

Love, Jenny

Dear Ricky,

Skylar is starting to hate me. I can feel it. I know if you were here you’d tell me to get out of my head. We always anticipated that teenage angst. I just didn’t know how hard it would be to deal with alone. I want to tell her I am drowning in bills. But, we always said she’d never have to worry about anything. At night after she goes to sleep, sometimes I cry until it hurts. I’m trying to be strong for her. I miss you so much.

Love, Jenny

I stayed up all night reading the entries. My heart broke at the realization I’d been so harsh on my mom. She had been struggling to survive.

That night I rang Mrs. Swade's secretary. I asked if I could send all the money leftover to my mom. I had already spent a whopping $5,000. So I had $15,000 left over. Her secretary asked if I was sure. That my mom would never know I was the one who sent it. “Send it all I don’t care. Send it all.” I said in anguish. I hung up the phone.

That following morning, my mom received an anonymous package.

“Skylar!” She screamed. The contents of the package contained cash, organized in neat stacks. $15,000. “By God we are taking you shopping !” Was my moms first declaration of how she would spend the money. I cried. My mom wasn’t selfish at all. By far from it.

A letter came within the box full of money. When I read the small message inscribed it took all I could, not to fall over. I gasp. It said five simple words. Written beautifully on the paper. I felt the truth of those words in my bones.

What goes around, comes around.