In The Bag

George squinted against the berating sun as he stepped out of the diner. Every Thursday afternoon he would sit down to a hearty meal of eggs benedict with the occasional side of wedge salad, then return home with a bag of leftovers tucked under his arm and an uncomfortably full gut. Like much of the little town of Fredrick everyone went about the same routine performing tasks in a rather predictable manner as if they were bits in grandfather clock turning cogs, undulating weights , and pendulums oscillating all coming together to form the ticking town of Frederick. The end of winter was near causing George to take note of the bird songs that crescendoed as he trekked along the sidewalk towards his car. The snow that had once bestrewn the land had surrendered and seeped into the earth causing the ground to become an impasto painting of thick mud that would later sprout forth specks of green with the kiss of the warm spring air. George plotted past the tailor shop heading towards his abused toyota pickup truck he had parallel parked haphazardly. He breathed in deep enjoying the revivifying aroma of damp soil and fresh sprouts that previewed a spring to come. Up ahead an armored truck pulled out from in front of the bank, George watched as it departed down the street past the rows of modest stores. It took a sharp turn at the stoplight little ways down the road causing the hefty vehicle to tilt a bit with the motion.

Something slipped out from the side of the truck and plopped onto the ground, it occurred so seamlessly the event would have gone unnoticed if George had blinked. The van disappeared leaving the parcel abandoned propped against a boulder. The empty streets left George as the only witness and a growing urge of responsibility to investigate. George pulled out of the parking spot and rounded the turn where the bag had fallen out. Clambering across the center console into the passenger's seat he opened the door and scooped up the brown bag. Money spilled forth from the gash that had been made from the rock it collided with during it’s crash course. The weight of the bag caught him off guard and the bag nearly slipped from his grip. With a strenuous effort he plopped the bag at the foot of the passenger seat. He slipped off his worn denim jacket and tossed it over the parcel.

George sped down the windy streets attempting to catch a glimpse of the armored truck. As time passed his search began to feel futile, he turned around and headed home. As he drove along George thought back to the little black book that remained carefully stashed in the drawer beside the fridge, his wife's meticulous handwriting keeping excruciatingly detailed notes on all their finances. As time went on the numbers within the book began to tick down drawing nearer to a balance of zero. There were always bills that ate away at their hard earned wages leaving them with scraps to pay for the necessities. Once the medical bills were piled on they began to slip into the red, and soon all of the little numbers in the little black book were preceded by an unwelcoming minus sign. With age there were only ever growing new ailments, new body parts, new concerning marks that dotted their skin, new side effects, and new medications. By the end of it all they had begun to burn into what little retirement funds they had set aside. He pulled into the driveway of their modest two bedroom one bathroom home, tucking the bag in the crook of his arm.

“Linda?” he called as he wiped his boots on the welcome mat, the money cradled in his arm like a newborn fresh from the hospital.

“I’ll be out in a minute!”

“When you get out I wanna show you something.” Linda rounded the corner with a hairbrush in hand working the knots out of her wiry grey hair. She sat down at the table, her eyes narrowing as she inspected the parcel.

“Whatcha got there? Bag of feed?” George shook his head, as he sat down at the opposite end of the table, placing the bag down on the table with a rattling thud. He pulled the jacket off revealing parcel, it’s gaping hole allowing Linda a preview of it’s bountiful contents.“My God... where did you find that?”

“It fell off one of those armored trucks!” Linda stood up and rounded the table, she gingerly stuck her hand in the hole pulling forth a wad of $20s. “I tried to return it but I lost sight of the truck.” Linda stared at the handful of cash while chewing her bottom lip.

“I think we should keep it.” George looked at his wife a bit shocked by the suggestion.

“Isn’t that illegal?” Linda darted for the cabinet pulling out the little black book, she opened it to the book marked page and held in front of George.

“This could be the answer to all of our problems!” There was a wild belligerent look that lingered behind her eyes.

“What if we get caught?”

“But what if we don’t, George, this could be a sign from God! You were meant to find this money.” her voice pitched a bit. Her eyes bore into him aggressively seeking signs of ceased resistance. “We were meant to have this money.” she reached out and clutched his hands, George fixated on the watermark ring on the table unwilling to meet his wife’s intense gaze.

“Maybe we should sleep on it.”

“Good idea!” Linda exclaimed a bit too eagerly. He pulled his hands from hers then ambled to their bedroom shutting the door behind him. The rest of the day was spent in silence as they attempted to avoid each other's presence, finding excuses to never be caught together in the same room. Finally when the daylight dimmed and the moon took her place in the sky they retired to bed. They lay parallel to each other, a marginal space between them. They drifted off to sleep laying still in their respective spots in effort to not disturb the other. Once George heard the gentle snores of his wife beside him he rose and went down the hall to visit the bag. It lay perched in the chair as if waiting for him, an ominous mass in the darkness. From the gash in the side he drew out $20 after $20 till he held a thousand of them in his hand. He fanned out the $20,000, nearly dropping them in the process as he thought about how his hands had bever held this much money. He was astounded by how little of a dent it seemed to make in the contents of the bag. This would be all he took he promised himself holding the large stack of cash in his hands. It was enough to take care of the majority of the bills, he envisioned the numbers in the little black finance book rebounding, their savings swelling, and the cushion they could build for their future. Maybe his wife had been right, after all he was the only one who saw the incident. He decided not to tell her about the $20,000 he had set aside. Heading for the basement he pulled down a coffee can from behind the supply of cross country skiing equipment. In it was $50 and a handful of spare change. George crammed the $20,000 satisfied by the swirl the roll created when placed in the can, his own personal wealthy whirlpool.

The next morning George woke to the enticing aroma of a medley of breakfast foods. He knew the meal was meant for persuasion purposes and would be accompanied with a difficult conversation and an even tougher decision.

“How’d you sleep sweetheart?” Linda cooed when he entered the kitchen. The table was laid out with plates of bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, and sliced oranges, a meal certainly big enough for more than two people.

“Fine, how about you?” George asked, taking a seat. Linda rushed over pouring him a cup of orange juice.

“Like a rock,” she said with a smile. “Coffee?”

“No thanks.” It was as if they were children playing pretend, attempting normalcy in a situation that suddenly lacked familiarity. The local news blared from the living room “It has been reported today that a bag has gone missing from an armored truck located in the Frederick town area as of yesterday. The bag contained around $100,000, local authorities insist that it is returned immediately if found, if not there will be legal consequences.” George and Linda froze as they listened to the report neither one of them daring to speak.

“I think we should return the bag,” George muttered once the news had switched to the weather report. Linda looked at him, her eyes emotionless and unreadable.

“I can do it today.”

“Alright.” The rest of breakfast was spent in silence as the money once again drove a barrier through their daily routine, leaving them to improvise. After breakfast Linda took off in her blue civic with the bag in the front seat as George cleaned up. She made a loop around the block then parked a little ways up the road ensuring the car was hidden behind a cluster of trees, she crept behind the back of their property towards the rusting shed. She gently jostled the shed door as she attempted to pull it open, then slipped inside. Linda dragged a gallon bucket from the back of the shed and plopped the bag of money into it, sealing the lid.

“I’ll come back for you later,” she whispered before she hurried off to the car. She made a couple more loops around the block, so as not to arouse suspicion, before pulling into their driveway.

“It’s done.” she said to her husband.

“What’d they say? What happened?”

“They asked me a few questions and I explained that I tried to catch the armored truck and then by the time I was done looking the bank was closed. So I returned it today at earliest convenience.”

“Okay,” George said as he returned to reading the paper. Later that night the local news channel reported that the search for the missing money was still undergoing. Chills crawled up George’s arm at the thought that his wife had lied to him about returning the money. As his terror and sense of betrayal lessened he realized he too had fallen victim to the temptation of greed. The next week Linda attempted to avoid the news channel at all cost, switching it off before George came downstairs or requesting he change the channel when they were watching television together. As time passed the story of the missing money bag was buried beneath the latest current events and eventually pushed from the viewers memories, all except George and Linda.

Later that spring when the ground had erupted forth new buds and the town of Frederick came alive with the scent of cherry blossoms Linda ventured to the basement in search of coffee grounds while George was out getting lunch at the diner. Scouring the shelves she had been sure that she had seen a coffee can somewhere out of the ordinary.

“Well now what are you doing back here?” she mumbled and popped the lid off of the coffee can stashed behind the ski equipment to find the $20,000. She snorted then replaced the can with no intention of mentioning the discovery to George, he had his secret and she had hers. The numbers in the little black book ricocheted and with no mention ever made of the others discovered secret.