Dying Man's Wish

It was supposed to be another ordinary day. The pandemic has every day feeling like the same day. Today’s itinerary: work, or look for work, groceries, and back home. But it was an unexpected day.

The cashier at the grocery slides the last item, I pay and collect my bags. My shopping trip is enough to last me for the next two weeks. Pushing open the door, I walk out into a rainstorm.

Pulling up my hood, I try to hail a uber but in San Francisco, hailing a taxi is like trying to get into Broadway show. By some stroke of luck, an uber passes by right then and pulls up in front of me.

Half-smiling, I pull open the door and slide in. Pulling out my black moleskin notebook, I run a line through Groceries and put my notebook in my purse. Feeling a kink in my neck I put a hand to it and rub. It feels better but still bugs me. I bring the other hand up to my neck and rub both sides. I close my eyes, for a moment enjoying the feel. When I see something out of the corner of my eye and look towards it.

Turning I see a brown satchel bag under my grocery bags. Someone must have left It, I think. The passenger before me? I have an urge to look inside the bag, maybe there is a name or something unique to this bag. I lift the bag and open it from the middle.

“Excuse me sir, there’s a bag back here.”

The driver looks in the rearview mirror before shrugging his shoulders.

Pulling the bag closer to me, I set it on my lap and look inside. At the top of the bag is a notebook like mine. I pull it out and pull the elastic off the notebook. I turn the pages and it is names with amounts next to them. Did I just find a bookies notebook? Is this some mafia notebook?

I turn a few more pages and find a note.

Hello Stranger,

You are reading this, I have died. Dead. Damnit. I lost my battle stage four Metastatic Melanoma. I don’t have enough time, everything hurts, I am so tired.

These are the names of the people I owe money to and $20,000. I have kept a record of my debts to various friends and family throughout the years. I never seemed to find my luck.

It is my dying wish to pay my debts. “A Lannister always pays his debts.” Lannister motto. Using this money.

There is enough for you to keep half. Well let’s be real you could keep it all.

But I am counting on humanity and the guilt of denying a man’s dying wish to help me. Thank you and good luck on your travels.

Sincerely,

Allen Jr.

I reread the letter. I would get a portion of the pot, $20 K for my trouble? The whole amount would make a dent in my student loan debt or in my car payment. I know it is ridiculous to own a car in San Francisco, but I couldn’t stop myself.

The notebook has addresses for each recipient but since it is cash, I would have to deliver each of these amounts in person. Travel is restricted now due to COVID-19, but I could just wear a mask or use my car. I could calculate the amount that I need for each person and then have my portion to pay for my travel expenses. Also, I would be doing something for a man who died before his time. Closing the notebook, I look up to see we are near my apartment.

“Miss, that will be $25,” says the taxi driver. The driver has brown skin, brown eyes and a cab driver hat.

“Thank you,” I say as I swipe my phone on the scanner. It is weird that he still has a cab driver hat, I thought those went out of style in the 90s.

Reaching down, I push the handle to open the door. I grab all my grocery bags and hesitate before I reach for the brown bag. I could just leave it for the next person but what if they use all the money and don’t distribute the money to the right parties?

With a heavy sign I grab the money bag. Twenty Thousand is a lot of money and it would make a difference, but I would always have this guilt for not giving out the money to the rightful owners and wouldn’t I be in for a whole lot of bad karma? I must help this man to complete his final request.

With that I walk up to my apartment with groceries and a bag with $20K in it.

Three Days later

I pull my shoulder-length brown hair into a ponytail and adjust my mirrors before I get going on my voyage. The first place on the list is Tom James, who lives on 19th Avenue. According to the notebook, it says James is owed $2,000 due to expenses in college.

The drive to 19th Avenue takes me about ten minutes and by some stroke of luck they have a driveway, with room for one more car. I maneuver my Chevrolet Sonic into the driveway. I have a split second of guilt over taking the parking spot in San Francisco, but the moment passes when I think of the envelope that I am planning to slide under the door.

Letting out a breath, I push open the car door and walk up to a two-story white house. This is where Tom James lives. After researching, I know that Tom James is 36, attended Stanford and currently works at Advent Software. Advent is said to be a place with friendly co-workers and located in a quiet neighborhood.

Raising my hand, I knock on the white door and bed down to slide the envelope under the door. I almost slide the envelope under the door when it opens.

“Hello, can I help you?” says a deep male voice. When I look up a man with brown hair, black eyes are looking down to me. Slowly I straighten up and hold out the envelope between my two hands. He furrows his thick brown eyebrows. “Did you hear me?”

Shaking my head, I stutter out, “Y---yes. I heard you. I’m here because I found this bag and well, I think your friend Allen Jr. wanted you to have this.” I hold out the envelope to Tom James.

“Allen wanted me to have this? But he passed away from cancer a few weeks ago. Why do you have this?”

“Mr. James, I sort of found this bag and inside there was a note. He said he wanted to repay some debts he owed to friends and family. Your name was first on the list.”

I reach into my purse and pull out the notebook. I flip a few pages until I get to the ledger, ‘The ledger doesn’t say what the money was supposed to be repayment for. It just says that he owed you $2,000.”

Tom James scratches his head. “Well, I’ll be damned. If I am remembering correctly this money is to cover a game of poker, I played with Allen Jr. I had given up on getting the earnings. Ms.----?”

“Oh…Janelle Spencer, so he really did owe you the money? I was sort of nervous that I was going sound like a crazy person showing up at your door. Mr. James----”

“Please call me Tom.” Tom and I speak for a few minutes more before I said my goodbyes and headed on my way. It was going to be another two days before I could visit the next person.

After working my shifts at Macy’s, I finally was able to pile back into the car and head for Atascadero. While looking into the bag I found a stuffed animal, a teddy bear that matched up to what was written in the journal. I would be returning $5,000 to Matthew Smith. During my internet search, I found that Matthew Smith had a family, enjoyed hiking and lived in Atascadero.

The drive took approximately three hours and fifteen minutes. The address on file was John Street. Once I arrived, I put on my face mask, grabbed the envelope and the teddy bear and headed to the front door.

Knock, knock.

A woman came to the door. “Hello. Do you need something?”

“I have something for Matthew Smith. Is he here?”

“Yes, hold on just a minute. Matt, there’s someone at the door for you.”

A rustling comes from down the hall and then footsteps reveal a tall man with brown hair carrying a baby.

“Hello. Who are you?” the man, Matt asks.

“My name is Janelle Spencer and I’m here because I have something for you from Allen Jr,” I said.

“Allen…Well what is it?” I hand him the envelope after he hands the baby to the woman who answered the door. As he opens the envelope, I give the teddy bear to the woman.

“There’s like $5,000 in here. What is it for?” He looks up at me with a puzzled look on his face.

“The ledger says it’s for housing. Allen didn’t know the exact amount but put an estimate in his ledger.”

I get the ledger out of my bag and pass it to Matthew with the page open.

After looking over the page he looks up.

“Why are you doing this Janelle? Did you know him?” Matthew asks.

Shaking my head, I reply, “I found the money bag in taxi up in San Francisco. I felt a responsibility to make sure the money went to the rightful owners. I didn’t know Allen Jr., but I am getting the idea that he pays back debts.”

Matthew looks at the woman and then down at the money and back to me. “Thank you.” His mouth is still open like he wants to say something else but then his eyes start watering and the woman, who still hasn’t told me her name, pushes Matthew back into the house.

“Thank you, Janelle. I think it’s time for you to go.” With that, she shuts the door.

Shrugging my shoulders, I turn and realize they still have the notebook.

“Shit.” I say as I turn back toward the house.

After knocking twice, there still has been no answer. Where do I go next? Why did I show them the notebook? Why didn’t I make a copy? Matthew was my third stop, but I still have 12 to go. Allen’s dying wish is slipping away, when suddenly the door opens, and Matthew steps out with the notebook.

A smile slowly crosses my face as he hands the notebook back to me. “Sorry for taking it. Allen was my best friend; we were more like brothers. I want you to continue what you are doing.”

Nodding I look down. “Sometimes I wonder if this isn’t one of the craziest things I’ve ever done. Giving this money away for a man I did not know or ever meet. But then I meet you and Tom, and I just know that this is making a difference. Like his last act of kindness.”

“Yeah. Who’s next on your list?”

I open the notebook. “Someone named Liana. He says he owed her $1,000 for someone named Taz.”

Matthew’s shoulders shake and then a laugh erupts. “Ha-ha. He’s paying her back for the time Taz had to have his stomach pumped.”

He must see something on my face because he quickly says “Taz is his dog.”

“OH… that’s a little bit better.”

I slide into my car and pull away.