Defining What's Lucky

I hopped off the crosstown bus into a torrential downpour. Commuting home from work in these conditions always makes me wet and miserable. Of course, I left my umbrella at home so I had no one to blame but myself. I scurried down the sidewalk, dodging puddles. As I rounded the corner onto Broadway, I saw something on the sidewalk. It was a little black notebook lying there, forlorn and lost. “Somebody must have dropped it,” I thought to myself. I reached down and scooped it up. It wasn’t soaked, so it couldn’t have been there long. Without much thought, I dropped into my satchel. I just wanted to get home and out of these wet clothes.

A week or so later, I dumped my bag out onto my desk looking for a pen. Finding one, I began to stuff things back into the bag. It was then that I spied the little black notebook and remembered picking it up off the walk in the rain. I placed it on the corner of my desk and finished the task I was involved in. The next morning, I walked into my office and threw my bag into a chair. I needed coffee. I grabbed my favorite mug and bounded off to fill it with the bad coffee that was available in our office. Luckily, I could doctor it up with cream and sugar, making it almost palatable. I sat myself down behind my desk and as I took a swig of my coffee, I saw the notebook. I reached over and picked it up. I opened it to view a sketch done in pencil. It appeared to be an older woman with a very peaceful countenance. I wondered who she was and what made her so captivating to the artist. I turned to the next page that had a poetic verse that read:

“A man sat down to write a poem.

He must have been absurd

He started with the question, “Why?”

He never wrote a word.”

I became enchanted by this little note book but I had work to do. I placed it back onto my desk and began my workday. Eventually lunch time rolled around and I went to grab a sandwich from the deli next door. As I walked out of my office, I picked up the little book. The sun is shining, maybe I’ll sit outside to eat and see what other little treasures this mysterious little tome held. I sauntered across the street with my sandwich and the little notebook to a bench on the edge of a small park. I let the notebook fall open to random page in the middle. It revealed a red ink drawing of a cardinal on a tree branch. Again, I wondered about the owner of this notebook. I then fanned thru the pages to see if there was a name, an address or a phone number. Nothing, but on the very last page were written the words, “My lucky numbers” with 11, 14, 20, 23, 25 scrawled under. Hmm…..I wondered just how “lucky” they could be since they had been written into this notebook and then dropped. Well, let’s just see. I walked back to the deli and played them in the nightly lotto game, shoving the ticket into my coat pocket. I walked back to my office and tossed the little notebook onto my desk once more.

Several weeks went by until once more the little notebook caught my attention on my desk. I picked up on my way out of the office, heading home. I thought maybe I’ll glance thru it some more tonight after dinner. I put it in my bag and headed to the bus stop where the same crowd awaits the bus every day at this time. Nobody really acknowledges each other; we are all just zombies wanting to get home. The bus grinds to a halt and we file on. As I approach a seat, my cell begins to ring and as I try to get it out of my pocket, I drop my bag and the entire contents spill onto the bus floor. “REALLY” as an older gentleman rises to help me pick it all up. “Thanks” I mumbled, “but I got this.” I glance to see the spam call on my phone and reject it. “No problem”, says the kind man as he reaches to pick up the little black notebook from the floor. He looks at it intently then opens it. A smile spreads across his face as he says, “I think this is mine.” “Really?” “I found it on Broadway a month or so ago, the night of that horrid rain storm actually.” “I hope you don’t mind but looked thru it” “It has some very interesting things in it.” “I don’t mind”, he replied. “My name is Brenda.” “Ed” was his reply. I then asked him to sit and talk with me. I opened the little book to the lady with the sweet face. “Who is this?” “My wife, she died last spring.” “I’m sorry. She looks lovely.” “That’s how I remember her,” he said. He told me how this cardinal came to him every day for a month after her pasting and looked at him as if to say, “I’m ok!” He sketched it with a red pen. Cardinals are reputed to be lost loved ones trying to bring peace to those left behind. I enjoyed our conversation. I was happy that the little lost notebook had found its way back to its owner. I arrived at my stop and hopped off the bus, smiling to myself. I walked into a convenient store about block from house to grab a loaf of bread. I placed it on the counter and reached into my pocket, looking for the bills I had shoved in there at lunchtime. Out came the lotto ticket from weeks ago. I laughed as I handed it the clerk and said, “Can you check this?” He scanned it and the machine issued this trumpeting sound like the Kentucky Derby was about to begin. The clerk handed it back to me and said, “It’s a winner but I can’t cash it here. You’ll have to go to Lottery Headquarters.” “WHAT? A winner? How much?” “$100,000” Absolutely no way! I bought a ticket that won with Ed’s lucky numbers? How could this happen? I didn’t sleep a wink all night and nearly ran to the bus stop after work. I plopped down in the seat next to Ed. He smiled as I started to cry. “I’m sorry”, I said, as I tearfully told him how I had played his lucky numbers and they had won. He stared at me like I had literally lost my mind. I handed him the ticket and said, “This is yours, not mine.” He said, “I can’t take this.” “Well, it not mine, it’s yours.” I closed his hand around the ticket and bolted off the bus at the next stop. I avoided the bus for next week because I just didn’t want to have any further conversation on the subject. Then on Monday afternoon I began my nightly routine again. As I climbed aboard the bus, there sat Ed. He smiled at me and patted the seat beside him. I walked over and he asked me where I had been. “I’ve been avoiding you.” “I figured” He told me how he had fallen behind on some bills after his wife died and how much it meant to him that I forced him to take the ticket. He had caught all of him bills up, thanks to me. He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. It’s only a thank you card he said. I took it and said thank you. “My stop is coming up”, I said. “I’m glad it worked out for you.” I walked toward home smiling and tore open the card. There was a folded piece of paper. I held the paper as I read, “You are a very special person and it was a blessing that you came into my life when you did. Your friend, Ed.” Oh, that’s sweet I thought as I opened the paper to reveal that it was a money order for $20,000. On the memo line it said, “The left over is for you.” I kept it in my bag for over a month as I ran to the bus every night to return it to Ed. I never saw him again. I cashed the money order and bought myself a brand new car, no more public transportation for me.