Consequences

It was the most boring book ever. But I opened it anyway.

The cover was black and floppy like Lucinda’s spelling book. I felt all warm and jittery as I threw the cat book onto the table and opened the black one, and a lot of money fell on the floor.

It was hot and summery outside and mean Reginald made a face from the window as we drove away. The new house was ginormous like a castle in a library book, huge like a giant and shining like Mommy’s special earrings she puts on a spirally thing on the shelf. The floors were all slippery like ice as I ran in my socks and Lucinda didn’t even yell at me to quit it.

There was new stuff like big tables and fancy clothes like the neighbours had and Mommy always wore her special earrings when she left. I thought Mommy would be happy we had new stuff but she frowned a lot and didn’t come to school anymore, and Lucinda was all grumbly when she said Mommy was out shopping or doing country club with the neighbours.

Daddy came back when it was cold and dark out. All he did was sit on the couch and close his eyes except he still talked so he wasn’t sleeping and his shirt was all wrinkly, and when I asked him to play tic-tac-toe with me he smiled and said, “Sorry, Timothy. I think I’m just going to head to bed, okay?”

Lucinda played with me instead and said Daddy’s too tired from working three jobs, and I laughed like it was funny even though it wasn’t really. Lucinda must have what Ms. Morrison calls an “overactive imagination”.

Then suddenly someone broke into our house and took all the fancy clothes and Mommy’s computer so I tried to catch them but they were too fast and all I could see was a scary black robber mask like on TV.

Mommy missed the Spring Art Show and screamed into the phone when I came back. She threw it against the wall where it made a loud noise and didn’t talk for a long time, so I ran up to my room like I wasn’t there at all.

“No, Todd, the meeting went long so I didn’t have time to pick it up. Just tell her you’re busy. Okay. Of course, you didn’t. You never do anything. Fine, just come when you can. I’ll be waiting in the library.”

Smiling slightly in satisfaction, I hung up before he could respond and leaned my head against the bookshelf, which accidentally knocked a book to the floor. I jumped to catch it but froze as pressed dollar bills fluttered out like greenish butterflies.

“Angelina. Please, just wait a few weeks. I really need this. We need this. A couple hundred to get him off my back, that’s all. I know it’s nothing to you now that it’s over.”

“Figure it out, Todd. I’m not waiting anymore.”

The soaring sky shone a smooth, milky blue, the alleyway air waved a comforting hello as heels clicked firmly on the pavement. New ones, glittering every shade of gold. Strobe lights bathed in a stream of electric cocktails, my throat somehow untouched by tequila’s novel sting.

Glances swayed from my wallet to my lips, raining bills from above for a fan of adoring acquaintances. The bass dragged me around like a string puppet, playing the new thing so fresh and irresistible.

I wore diamond-tipped aviators, lit cigarette after cigarette that sparkled in the haze of howling partygoers, white bathrobes dropping eagerly as Chateau Lafite spilled into the bath. I couldn’t get enough.

Suddenly, the sky stopped raining and began to fall.

I didn’t have enough for a flight home and begged on my knees for just a part-time club shift; the untameable wildness slayed by demons having chosen their moment to strike. I stared hard at the carpet, at scattered diamonds and crusty beer stains; anywhere but the pitying eyes of those who have yet to wake up.

I loved the symmetry of it all, each book with inviting script running down the spine. Except one. Someone must have left it by mistake, so I opened the notebook tenderly to check for a name.

But then something wondrous happened, like a dream or a glorious library lottery. Of all places for a miracle.

One look at the money and I was back in that shop.

A silver wristwatch, the handsomest and most fitting money could buy, yet I had not the money to buy it. It took many months, but the best feeling in the world was looking into that china piggy bank and counting the dollars, and the cents, until I was ready.

I ran to the shop and I remember Irene tried to stop me, wondering where on earth I was going in such a hurry, but I didn’t have time to explain. Crestfallen clouds wept that day as I stared at the empty glass.

But there I was again, as if not a day older, standing before the case of gleaming wristwatches. They smiled at me, faces winking in allure, so I eagerly gave in. I had extra to give to Margaret and Poppy, sour faces breaking into wide smiles. Janice shook her head but smiled a little, too.

I ran across the wealth like steppingstones, chasing those moments like a glimmer of gold beneath the rainbow. The wallet became a trusty friend, bringing joy to those who were gloomy, but it troubled me when their sour faces soon returned.

Harriet told me to quit at the library, as she’d become enamoured with the glamour of traveling abroad. I obeyed, and we soon sipped white wine by gleaming oceans and sprawling beaches. Harriet hid my cell phone in her purse because Janice kept calling, telling me to stop sending money. She laughed about it at first, but soon grew desperate and cross.

“I won’t let your laziness rub off on the girls, Dad. You’ve made things hard enough with your presents and flights of fancy and I let you, I can’t believe I let you spoil my children, but it ends here.” The tinny-sounding voice wavered. “You’ve done enough.”

I didn’t sleep at all that night.

I stared out the window as Harriet lay fast asleep, sunrise peeking through tiny bits of cloud. The silver wristwatch winked against the light, and I reached for the drawer handle so I didn’t have to look at it.

“Mr. Henshaw, it’s six o’clock.”

I blinked. Molly raised an eyebrow as if I’d gone and lost it.

“You haven’t closed the library yet. My friend’s having this party tonight and it starts at six-thirty, so I already wrote my hours on the sheet for you to sign.”

She glanced at the black book I still held like it was made of glass. I nodded as my mind raced with a thousand thoughts, a flurry of questions draped in a cloak of secrets and speaking suddenly seemed so hard.

“I see you found something,” Molly chuckled uneasily, interrupting my musings and I felt most unprofessional. “What are you going to do with it?”

I stared at the cover, placidly empty yet bursting with untold imagination, like how oil is swirled with intricate colours if held to the light. What it means to have everything. To be everything, somehow.

“I don’t know, Molly,” I said after a while, turning off the light so the room was bathed in darkness. “Choices mean a lot, sometimes.”