The Bus Boy's Discovery

Leon trudged across the dining room, lugging a half-empty bin of dirty dishes. The last table in the restaurant had finally finished their meal and left and he was eager to clean up so he could head home and study.

He dropped the gray bin on the table and started loading up the dishes.

“They left a $50 for a tip, can you believe it?” Kristina, the waitress for the table, grinned and flashed the money in front of him. “That’s $10 for you, not bad.”

The waitresses gave twenty percent of their tips to their assigned busboys. Leon loved working with Kristina. She was an excellent waitress, charming and organized, and brought it good tips. Plus, she never tried to scam him out of his share like some of the other waitresses.

He cleaned up the table quickly, wiping it down with a bleach solution to sanitize it so it would be ready when they reopened for breakfast. His foot caught on something under the table. He bent down to see what was there and found a small black notebook. It was a little ragged around the edges, like it was well-used. A blue ballpoint pen was attached by an elastic strap.

Leon opened the book and frowned. It appeared to be some kind of formulas or something. Almost every page was filled with letters and numbers that made no sense to him, although it no doubt made sense to the notebook’s owner.

He checked out the front of the book, but there was no name in it to let him know who the book belonged to.

“Hey Kristina, do you know who these guys were at this table?” he asked. “One of them forgot something.”

She shook her head. “No, and they paid with cash so there’s no credit card info either. Might as well put it in the lost and found.”

Leon looked at the notebook again. It seemed important.

He turned it over and realized that there was a flat pocket on the inside of the notebook's back cover. Inside he found a single business card. “Robert J. Mayweather, CEO, Johnson Pharmaceuticals.”

Tucking the book in his back pocket, Leon resolved to stop by Johnson Pharmaceuticals in the morning and see if he could return the book to its rightful owner. If it wasn’t Robert Mayweather, maybe he would know who it belonged to.

The next day Leon rode his bike over to Johnson Pharmaceuticals. He was a poor college student and had not saved up enough for a car of his own yet. He didn’t mind riding his bike, except for when the weather was bad.

Johnson Pharmaceuticals was a fairly large and modern building, surrounded by shiny glass. Everything looked modern and expensive. He walked up to the reception desk, suddenly aware that with his faded jeans, t-shirt, and battered Chucks, he looked totally out of place.

“Yes?” the perky blonde at the desk asked.

He explained why he was there and asked if he could talk to Mr. Mayweather.

“Mr. Mayweather is a very busy man,” she told him, her tone icy. “I’ll see if his assistant wants to talk to you.”

He moved to the side as she called upstairs, whispering into the phone.

“Someone will be with you in a few minutes,” she told him.

A few minutes later the elevator doors opened and a man in a business suit came striding into the lobby. Leon immediately recognized him from the restaurant.

“Who’s here to see me Nancy?” he asked. She looked at him in shock and pointed at Leon without a word.

“I’m Robert Mayweather,” the man said, reaching to shake Leon’s hand with a friendly smile. “You found my notebook?”

Leon nodded, and slipped the black notebook out of his pocket, handing it to the CEO. “You left it at the restaurant last night,” Leon told him.

Mr. Mayweather took the notebook eagerly, thumbing through it before putting it in the jacket of his suit jacket. “What’s your name son?”

“Leon Jackson,” he answered.

“Mr. Jackson, you have saved me a lot of money today,” Mr. Mayweather told him. “I’ve been looking all over for this book. It’s really important to me.”

Leon nodded, resisting the impulse to ask what all those scribblings meant. As if he read his mind, Mr. Mayweather continued, “My competitors would have loved to get their hands on my formulas.”

“Mr. Mayweather,” the receptionist called out, “Susan said to tell you that your 10:00 is waiting in your office.”

The man sighed. “Tell you what Leon, leave your address with Nancy here and I’ll send you a token of my appreciation.”

“Thank you, but there’s no need sir,” Leon replied. “My mother taught me that your reward for good deeds will come in heaven.”

Mr. Mayweather smiled in surprise and shook Leon’s hand again. “Please, I insist. Thank you so much for your help Mr. Jackson.”

He started towards the elevator, calling to Nancy, “Get me his address right away please.”

Two days later Leon was studying in his dorm room when he heard a knock. A man stood in the doorway, holding onto a bike. “Delivery for Leon Jackson,” the man said. “Is that you?”

Leon nodded.

“Sign here please.”

Leon signed the clipboard and looked down at the envelope curiously. What could it be?

He slid the envelope open and saw it was a thank you card from Mr. Mayweather. Leon had already forgotten about the mysterious notebook.

“Mr. Jackson, I am so grateful for your honesty in returning my book. I understand you are a college student and hope this small token of my appreciation will be helpful to you in finishing your degree. When you graduate, send your resume to me at this email address -- [email protected]. I would love to have you join us at Johnson Pharmaceuticals. Robert Mayweather”

Leon smiled excitedly. An “in” with a major company? That sounded great. No doubt he could use his accounting degree somewhere in the giant company.

He turned his attention to a folded paper. It looked like a check. Maybe it would be enough for him to get a new coat. Winter was coming.

It was a personal check signed by Robert Mayweather in the amount of $20,000.

Leon sat down hard on his bed, counting, and recounting the zeroes. He couldn’t believe his eyes. $20,000 would more than cover his books and other expenses for his last year of college, and he would still have some money left to get a few things he needed.

He picked up his cell phone and pressed the speed dial for his mom. “Hey mom,” he said. “It turns out that sometimes a reward for good deeds comes when you’re on Earth.”