Thank You, Timmy Lundy.

My name is Arrigo and this is my story

I will never forget the day that I met Timmy Lundy. Timmy was a shade above five feet tall and no more than ninety-five pounds soaking wet. He was awkward even by junior high standards. Lundy wore coke bottle glasses and a calculator watch and was the sort of kid that couldn’t talk to a girl without staring at his shoelaces, but even that was extreme for him. In fact, Timmy didn’t talk much at all.

My situation was completely different than Lundy’s. You see I was in the popular crowd at Sutton Middle school. I was the good-looking Italian kid that quarterbacked the best middle school team in the county. I also got invited to all the cool kid’s parties and was the one who got to date Tara Whitmore, the knockout freshman that every Sutton pre-teen dreamed of. If Middle School was a kingdom, I sat on the throne.

Two Worlds Collide

On May 3rd, 1983 everything changed. This was the day that my world and Timmy Lundy’s world would collide, even if only for a few brief seconds.

It was fourth down with a foot to go with two seconds left on the clock. I was quarterbacking the Sutton Mustangs in the East-District middle school championship game. One play for all the bragging rights and my chance to cement my legacy in Sutton football lore.

We were on the two-yard line and I decided to call an audible because I knew the Outlaws would be expecting the run. The ball snapped. I faked the handoff to my right and then rolled out to the left. My favorite receiver Reece Dorsey slipped his coverage just as he had done in practice and was wide open in the corner of the endzone. I planted my foot and threw a perfect spiral hitting Reece right on the button. Touchdown! Or so I thought. The ball popped out of Dorsey’s hands and the second it did time seemed to shift. I experienced a phenomenon known as slow-motion perception. Everything around me was happening at normal speed except for my view of Reece and the football.

I teleported back to normal time and saw the ball tumbling to the ground where it hit Reece's knee and wobbled over and rested at the feet of a crouching Timmy Lundy. Timmy was sitting under a tree in the corner of the endzone, hunched over while holding a pencil and a little black book.

Before I could process the gravity of the situation, Dorsey was standing above Timmy screaming at the top of his lungs. “You idiot, you blinded me! You blinded me with that stupid watch!” I could barely make out what Dorsey was screaming. Lundy was terrified and of course speechless. Livid, Reece picked up the football and smashed it into the ground. Due to the sheer force, the ball bounced upwards from the ground and struck Timmy in the face shattering his glasses sending his black book flying into the air. A startled Timmy clutched his bloody face and broken glasses. I reached him and tried to console him, but he bolted off in agony and embarrassment.

As devastated as I was at losing the All-District, I immediately felt an overwhelming sense of pain for the kid that had been there scribbling in his little book, oblivious to his surroundings. I knew he inadvertently blinded Reece’s vision on the almost greatest play of my youth career. As we walked off the field, I saw Dorsey bend down and pick up the little black book that Timmy had been holding. He looked at the book and flicked it into a trashcan near the parking lot. I quietly approached the trashcan and reached in grabbing the book. I tucked it under my jersey and went home.

Making Things Right

That evening after supper, I laid on my bed tossing the game ball up in the air while licking my wounds. Gripping the ball I noticed a small drop of blood on one of the corners. “Lundy!” I gasped! I sat up and fumbled through my dirty uniform pile eventually finding the book at the bottom of the heap. I laid back on the bed again and opened the book and what I saw inside is virtually indescribable. Written inside were thousands of lines of some type of computer language. There were diagrams, formulas, and scribbling covering every page top to bottom, even in the margins. On the top left corner in small print, a name and address had been written: Timothy Lundy, 508 Poplar St.

Without hesitation, I grabbed the book, threw on jeans and sneakers, and flew out the door. I straddled my bike in the garage and headed out for Racine, Landing, and Dyer St. I knew those streets like the back of my hand as well as Poplar, because there was an old BMX track on a dirt lot on Dyer, that me and a few buddies had carved out two summers before. We raced our bikes there that summer until the owner ran us off the property. Several times he cursed and chased after us in an old beat-up truck and we always escaped through the back part of the lot and across Poplar Street.

Stark Revelation

I reached Poplar and followed the mailbox numbers until eventually finding my way to Timmy’s house at 508. It was the last house on the road and sat way back towards the woods near power lines. To my surprise, it was a shanty house, rickety and dilapidated. There were broken down old cars in the front yard with weeds growing inside of them. I spotted an old washing machine and a rusted bicycle near the broken railing of a makeshift front porch. I approached the house hesitantly after hearing a dog bark a few houses away. For a moment I reconsidered my plan to return the book, but I exhaled and found the courage. I approached the door with the book in hand.

After knocking and waiting for what seemed like an eternity I eventually heard a quiet rustling. Three different door locks began to disengage one after the other until the door released and slowly creaked open. It was Timmy. The house was dark inside except for a few candles that were burning. Timmy peered out at me squinting. I extended my hand and the book. “I brought this for you. I’m sorry, no hard feelings, right?” Timmy reached out and grasped the book. We both held an end of the book for a few seconds before he gently pulled it towards him. Timmy gave a slight nod of affirmation and gazed at me as he slowly closed the door. This would be the last time I ever saw Timmy Lundy, or so I thought.

A Chance Encounter

Fast forward fifteen years later. I was down on my luck. College football injuries had left me limping, a failed marriage made me doubt the institution itself, and a few ill-advised business dealings left me broke and virtually hopeless. However, I was a Sutton Mustang, and Never Quit was our mantra. I carried that phrase with me into adulthood. Despite my setbacks, I soldiered on and was able to scrape together enough money to buy a small box truck that I converted into a mobile coffee and pastry business. It was a meager living, but I made enough to get by. I was able to secure a permit that allowed me to park “Arrigo’s Coffee & More,” on the corner of Poplar and Racine. Poplar had been leveled years before and was now zoned commercial. It had become a small flourishing commercial strip that was home to a used bookstore, art supply shop, and a children’s consignment boutique.

In my two years of selling coffee on Poplar, I often thought about Timmy and wondered what may have happened to him. I didn’t know if he was alive or not, but I assumed the worst. One cold morning in February a very slender, but sharply dressed man stood outside my order window. I stepped up and did a double-take after realizing I was looking into the eyes of Timmy Lundy. Timmy looked at me and said “Arrigo, can I have one small coffee, black no sugar?” “Timmy?” I proclaimed. Timmy nodded and smiled. I handed him a cup and before I could get another word out, another customer interrupted demanding extra coffee creamer. When I returned my attention to Timmy the only thing remaining was a five-dollar bill on the counter. He had already climbed into an expensive Italian sports car and was gone. I couldn’t believe it. He was alive and apparently doing very well.

A Second Surprise

Time went by and about a month later I got another surprise. I received a call from Reece Dorsey, my friend and favorite wide receiver from the Sutton squad. “Arrigo, is that you, It’s Reece, Reece Dorsey?” I was dumbfounded. What a coincidence. After a minute or two of small talk, Reece said “listen can we meet tomorrow for lunch I have something very important to give you?” “Sure,” I said. I invited Reece down to the food truck excited about the prospect of catching up with him. I had not seen or talked to Reece after that 8th-grade year. He had moved to Arizona with his parents after the season had ended.

The next day Reece pulled up to the truck. I spotted him and came down out of the truck to meet him with a handshake and a hug. We talked for a long time and Reece revealed that after law school he moved back to the area, got married, and started his own law firm. He said proudly that he had two boys, both of whom played football. After catching up, Reece said, “I have something to tell you, you may want to sit down.” I was on pins and needles. What was he going to tell me? Reece cleared his throat. “Do you remember Timmy Lundy, the kid that crushed our dreams?” We both chuckled out loud. “Yeah, sure, he was by here four or five weeks ago and bought coffee,” I replied. Reece began to struggle and then softly uttered “Timothy passed away two days ago.” “What, impossible, what happened?” I replied. “Cancer,” Reese mumbled. Reece and I shared a moment of sorrow, and silence, mixed with a touch of guilt. Then he revealed to me that Timmy’s own lawyers had approached his firm just two weeks earlier to finalize a portion of his estate, involving his company.

Returning the Kindness

“Arrigo are you familiar with LundTech?” Reece asked. “Of course, It’s one of the largest chemical, advanced materials companies on the east coast,” I replied. Then it hit me. Timmy Lundy – LundTech. Reece then produced a large file from his briefcase. He opened it and on top was a check that he handed to me. The check was made out to me in the amount of twenty thousand dollars. It was signed by Timothy J Lundy. In the note section of the check, were the words “For my friend.”

I was at a loss for words holding the check. Before I could really grasp Timmy’s act of generosity, Reece took the check from my hands. “We will be needing that along with mine,” he said. Reece raised his hand showing me an identical check made out to him for twenty thousand dollars, except in the notes portion it said, “Necessity is the mother of invention.”

“What do we need these for?” I asked. “Probate resolution in three other states,” Reece replied. “What does that even mean?” I responded. Reece stood up and placed his hand on my shoulder and replied. “Old friend, it means that you and I are the proud new owners of LundTech Incorporated.”

Reece closed his briefcase and walked over and opened the door to his car. “My God, how did he do it?” I asked. Reece smirked and then held up his watch. “Can you see the sun reflecting in your eyes?” “No” I responded. Reece giggled and tapped the watch. “That’s how.” Reece got into his car and rolled down the window smiling. “I’ll see you Monday,” he proclaimed. Reece drove away.

I could feel the sun on my face. All I could do was close my eyes and think of that kid with the little black book.

“Thank you, Tim Lundy”