Not Just Another Brick In The Wall

It was 7:30am. I was already late to open up my shop when I realized that I had no gas. No gas and no money.

I ran back inside and scrubbed the house down for spare change. I went from closet to closet, coat to coat, retrieving pennies, nickels and dimes. I needed to put together at least three dollars for a gallon of gas. I was living hand-to-mouth trying to make my very small business work, sometimes depending on a sale or a tip just to get by until the next day.

My circumstances of late had been less than ideal. Opening my shop was my last ditch effort to find my independence, personally and financially. I had recently ended a long term, oppressive and somewhat abusive relationship which left me in debt and completely broke. To make matters worse, I also lost my mother. Both of these major life events happened within a year of each other. After my mother died, I just decided it was time for change. I had been in the same job for many years. My dream was to own my own business, so when I got to a point in my life where I really had nothing left to lose, I quit my job and cashed in my 401k to start over.

My shop was situated behind a grocery store and nestled in among a residential neighborhood. My large store front window allowed me to see everyone coming and going, some taking a casual walk with their dogs, kids walking home from school, people out mowing their lawns or delivery trucks roaring up the quiet residential street for deliveries to the grocery store. I would often sit out front and soak up the sun. I didn't exactly have a revolving door of business, so I was able to do this often and I enjoyed chatting with the locals. My business never thrived, just barely was able to pay the rent, but it was my place. In addition to my main business of hand crafting pet furniture, I sold candy and coffee to the neighborhood as a courtesy, since there was nothing else around but the grocery store.

One morning as I was just getting my keys in to the door to open up my shop, a disheveled and somewhat frantic young man approached me. He had clearly not been out of bed very long, if he had slept at all. He was just a walking bundle of raw nerves coming up the street shirtless, in PJ bottoms and slippers. Before he got to me, a sudden bright gleam of light reflected off from a ring he wore and blinded me for a brief moment. I blinked a few times to relieve my eyes and when I could focus again, he was standing before me, asking if I had found an envelope anywhere around my shop. He said he cashed his paycheck the evening before and hid it because he wanted to go out drinking, and he was afraid to take a lot of cash with him. Due to being in a drunken stupor, he had no memory of where he had hidden it. I told him I had not seen anything, but I would keep my eyes open and let him know. He half listened to my reply before he was off again searching everywhere around the back, front and sides of the building. Comically, he looked like a squirrel trying to find a buried nut. I felt bad, but there was some humor in someone thinking they potentially hid cash somewhere outside! I mean what is wrong with putting it under your mattress or in a coffee jar, or better yet your bank account?

I never saw that young man again after he wandered off in defeat, but I thought of him often when I was opening up my shop. I wondered if he ever found that money.

Before long, my shop went under. My dream and the needs of others were not in alignment. On my final day there, after everything was sold in a going out of business sale, I just stood in my empty shop, reflecting on the past couple of years. There was a lot of loss, a lot of tears and a lot of failure. I began picking up the last of the garbage to head out the door one last time. The shop stood just as it had the day that I inquired about renting it. Brightly lit from the sunlight beaming in the store front window; the shop was now completely empty waiting for the next occupant to fill it with their dream. As for me? I was just out of ideas for my life.

After locking up the front door, I picked up the bag of garbage and headed out back to the dumpster. The door closed and locked behind me. After the door shut, I heard something hit the ground. I turned around and a brick had fallen out of the building. I walked over to set it back in place so that no one would trip on it and I noticed something deeper inside the hole where the brick had been. It was white...paper? An envelope? I was apprehensive about sticking my hand in there but there was something in there and my curiosity was too strong to just put the brick back and walk away. So, my hand went in and it did indeed retrieve a white envelope. I large white envelope. Could this be the lost envelope containing that man's cash? Seemed way too large and heavy for that. Whatever was in this envelope was not a common working man's paycheck. Feeling a sense of unease, looking around to see if anyone was watching me, I quickly stuffed the envelope under my shirt, threw the garbage away and hopped in my vehicle. Not knowing what the envelope contained, I just sat there awhile, reliving the day that I was approached by the stranger looking for his hidden paycheck.

I drove home with envelope safely tucked under my shirt; once I was safely in the confines of my own 4 walls, I took it out and opened it.

I think I may have sat silent and motionless for at least an hour staring at the contents. I was looking at $20,000, neatly grouped together in 4 tidy packs of $5,000 each. $20,000. Twenty thousand dollars! There were at least 20,000 thoughts racing through my head, but the first and foremost thought was that I am sitting here with $20,000 dollars in my possession and I have 69 cents in my checking account and probably less in my pocket. I am living in a crappy run-down apartment, I have an empty fridge and my vehicle should be driven off a cliff and put out of its misery.

My uncle used to tell me if you don't know what to do, don't do anything. I sure as hell did not know what to do. I carried on with my daily comings and goings, driving all over town with that money stashed in my vehicle. I had not touched it since the day I put it there, exactly 364 days ago.

Driving on the roundabout downtown was part of my daily routine as an Uber driver. On this particular Tuesday, there was a noticeable absence of people downtown. I was driving through, looking around and wondering if there was some kind of situation happening somewhere that made people disperse. It was just so odd at that time of day, normally people were out and walking about, at the food stands, sitting around having lunch, coming and going in and out of the court houses, but not today. I was almost through the roundabout when I noticed someone sitting on a bench to my right. He was the only one around. He was remarkably nondescript. His legs were crossed and his hands were placed just so in his lap. I slowed down, I looked at him, he looked at me.

He had a slight grin and raised eyebrows as if saying to me, "well what are you going to do now?".

What was I going to do indeed?

I spent the next several minutes doing laps around the roundabout. My mind was racing, knowing that I had to make a decision. I knew whatever decision I made would impact my life one way or another. I was a big believer in karma.

I drove one last lap and then pulled off and parked. I was on auto pilot - as if I knew all along what I had to do, whether or not my mind had made any sense of the situation was irrelevant. I went to the trunk of my vehicle and pulled out the bundle of cash. I had it gift wrapped, not sure why, it seemed like a good idea at the time. With the $20,000 in hand, I walked up and sat next to the man, who seemed to be waiting patiently for this moment. "I think this belongs to you", I said, as I handed him what could have been my answer to a whole lot of problems. He didn't say a word. He took the money and handed me a little black book. Without further ado he turned and walked away. My eyes followed him as he departed. When he was practically out of sight, a sudden bright gleam of light reflected off from a ring he wore and blinded me for a brief moment.

I sat there holding that book, seemingly in suspended animation. Nothing and no one around me. I likened it to a person sitting on a stage in a dark, deafening quiet theater, with just a spotlight shining on them.

I slowly opened the little black book, almost as though I expected something to jump out at me from the pages. I could plainly see it was just written words, as I flipped through, front to back. I wasn't reading the words, I was just reassuring myself that it was indeed just a little black book with words in it. After my safety inspection was complete, I was still again, almost thoughtless, just holding the book. I was having intermittent, fleeting thoughts of why there was a void all around me, then my mind came back to the book and the man... where did he go anyway? Where is everyone? And everything?

I reopened the book to page one. the first entry was my birth: February 6, 1979 and the last entry was today, February 5, 2021. Each page was filled with the significant dates and events of my life. Not birthday or graduation type of events, rather the decisions and choices that I have made along the way, in the living of my life. There were hundreds. I read for hours, with each entry my mind wandered back, reliving the event. By the time I was through the book I was so exhausted, physically and emotionally, that I drifted off asleep right there on the bench in the middle of this abyss I was in.

I awoke feeling a little foggy but otherwise it seemed like a normal morning. "We Didn't Start The Fire" by Billy Joel was blaring out of my clock radio. I always set my alarm to wake me to my favorite Top 40 station. My mother was yelling up the stairs that I was going to miss the school bus. Yep. Normal morning. I threw on some clothes, ran down the stairs, grabbed my back pack and I was off to catch my bus!