Tag Archives: surprise

Unexpected Surprises Often Come in Small Packages

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I was just about to step into the shower when I hear the doorbell ring. I think about ignoring it, since I was already late getting ready for my luncheon date with my old friend Maryanne. Whoever was at the door is persistent and keeps pushing the doorbell over and over again.

“Oh, for crying out loud,” I say to no one in particular.

Antique pocket watch- photo by Bob Culver

I grab my ancient chenille robe. It’s tattered and torn and stained in places. But it used to belong to my mother. I consider it a family heirloom. And I throw it on, tying it tightly around my waist. I push my feet roughly into my slippers that are also tattered and stained.

I take the steps two at a time. My left slipper comes off my foot and goes careening down the remaining steps. I almost go careening after them. But catch myself at the last minute when I manage to grab the rickety railing.

I can see through the four small windows in the door that the delivery guy is turning and about to leave. I jump down onto the floor at the bottom of the steps and all but pull the door off its hinges in an effort to open the door before he drives away.

The delivery guy has just turned his back on the door and is quick-stepping back to his delivery truck. I start screaming at the top of my lungs, and vigorously waving my arms back and forth.

“Hey buddy, wait, wait I’m here. I was in the bathroom upstairs.” When he turns around, he looks at me as if I’m a mirage or something. As if he can’t believe his eyes. I look down to see what he’s staring at and I realize that my robe has come untied and is flapping in the wind. Unfortunately, last night it was unbearably hot in my bedroom and I slept in the nude.

And that is when I notice my nosy neighbor, Cynthia is walking her dog, Alfred past my house. “Shit. Sorry, Cynthia. Sorry, sorry.” And I pull my robe together and retie the belt.

Cynthia’s face is bright red, she doesn’t say a word. But she keeps staring at me like I’m from another planet. Then she starts shaking her head vigorously from right to left. Alfred barks at me in a somewhat friendlier tone and off they go for their morning constitutional.

By then the delivery guy has made his way back to my doorstep. And he wears an expression on his face that can only be described as wolfish. All his teeth are showing and his eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his head. He leans towards me and I lean back. “Take it, easy lady, I just need you to sign this clipboard and I’ll be on my way.”

I grab the clipboard and the pen that’s hanging off of it and scribble my signature. And then I stick out my hand and he hands me a package that’s about the size of a napkin. “Thank you”, I say as I’m about to turn around and close the door.

He waits for a moment. I guess he thinks he might get a tip. But he isn’t going to get one from me today. I turn around and walk as nonchalantly as I can muster up. As if I didn’t just flash everyone that happen to be on the street this morning. I take my mother’s advice for once. She often said, “when you make a fool out of yourself just keep moving forward and don’t look back.” And that is exactly what I did, let it go and walk through my front door like it was any other day. And I forget about it.

When I get into my house, I firmly close the door and put the chain across it. And walk through the living room into my tiny kitchen. I put the small package on the kitchen counter and turn on the coffee pot. I open the refrigerator door and gaze inside. There isn’t much, I haven’t gone food shopping in two weeks and the cupboard is almost bare. I find a slightly stale piece of rye bread and stick it in the toaster and find I still had a dab of peanut butter in my giant economy size of Chunky Peanut Butter. I practically live on peanut butter; I like it with bananas but I don’t have any left.

I pour the coffee into my favorite mug, it used to belong to my Aunt Merry, which is short for Marilyn. It’s huge, yellow and round with a smiling face. In fact, it was called the Smiley Face Mug. She gave it to me when I moved to the city. It’s from the 1970s. And it is one of the few things I treasure in life. Because it reminds me of all the time I spent every summer with her when I was a kid. She lived within walking distance to the beach. And she grew all her own vegetables in her little garden.  We would take long walks across the beach and collect shells and stones. I still have some of the shells somewhere in a box in the back of my closet. Most of my childhood memories that I cherish are from the time I spent with my Aunt Merry.  I should have visited her more often.

My mom called me a couple of weeks ago and told me that my Aunt Merry quietly passed away in her sleep. That’s so like her, never wanted to cause anyone any trouble or worry. I should have gone to her funeral, but I didn’t because I didn’t have the money for a round trip bus ticket home. And my mother drinks up all her money. She didn’t even let me know until the day before the funeral.

I finish the last of my coffee and pick up the small package and I realize the return address is my mom’s. “Wow,” I say out loud. My mother never sends me anything. Occasionally she calls me and asks for money. And when I have any, I send it to her. She’s still my mother after all. And she did raise me all alone. And I guess she did the best she could. I should probably visit my mother more too. She’s no longer young. And I don’t know how much time she has left.

I make up my mind that I’m definitely going to go visit my mother, sometime soon. I start tearing the brown paper off the small package and then I shake it. Something is rattling inside. When I open the box, I see something that looks like gold. I pull it out and inside I see a pocket watch on a long, gold chain. I pick it up and look at it closely. It has flowers engraved on the back and my Aunt Merry’s initials and the year 1969. The year she graduated from high school. I remember seeing it in her jewelry box in her house down at the beach. She used to say, “someday this pocket watch will be yours. And it will remind you of all the good times we had together here at the beach.”

I feel a tear run down my cheek and more follow. I start crying and as I realize all the time that I could have spent with my Aunt Merry and I didn’t. I always made excuses not to go. I don’t know why. I put the pocket watch around my neck and go over to the mirror next to the front door and look at myself. As I stand there with the tears running down my face, I see my Aunt’s smiling face looking back at me.

As I’m standing there looking at myself the phone rings. I slowly walk over to the phone and pick it up. “Hello, Kathleen, it’s mom.”

“Yes Mom, I recognize your phone number. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, why did you hear something?”

“No, Mom I didn’t hear anything, you don’t call me often and when you do, it’s usually bad news.”

“Oh, Kathleen, you have always been so overly dramatic. I just called to see if you got the package, I sent you?”

“Yes, Mom, it was just delivered. I always loved that watch. Aunt Merry always promised me she would leave to me when she passed. I’ll cherish it.”

“Yes, she really did love you, Kathleen. I wished you had come and visited her more often you were her favorite niece.”

“You’re right Mom, I should have visited her more. In fact, I was just thinking that I haven’t seen you in quite a while. And I have a few vacation days left that I have to use up by the end of the year. So, how about if I come to see you at the end of next week.”

“Really, Kathleen? I would just love that.”

“Ok, Mom I have a lunch date with one of my friends and I have to get a shower and get dressed and drive across town. I’ll call you next week and let you know the details. I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too, Kathleen.”

“Bye, Mom talk to you soon.”

As Kathleen hangs up the phone, she realizes that her Aunt Merry gave her a special gift and that was the realization that life is short. And you have to let the people you love know that you love them.

Kathleen takes the steps two at a time and gets ready to go out and meet her friend for lunch. Her heart felt light. And she hasn’t felt this good in years. It’s going to be a good day.

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Where There is Hope. There is Possibility

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I’m awakened by the noise of my stomach growling and rumbling. I glance over at the clock on the nightstand, and I’m shocked when I realize it’s one-thirty in the afternoon. How has so much time passed by?

I have a god-awful taste in my mouth as if something died in there, and my head is pounding. I must have a migraine coming on. I drag myself out of bed. I still feel kind of groggy. I turn the cold water on in the shower and step in under the cold and unforgiving water. It’s pounding down on my head and weary body. As I step out of the shower, I almost slip on the tile floor. I manage to grab ahold of the edge of the sink at the last possible moment. I dry myself off and dress in blue jeans and a tee-shirt. I don’t have any clean underwear, so I have to put on yesterdays. They’re lying in a heap of dirty clothes on the bathroom floor. I vow to do the laundry today.

Road Trip

I’m almost afraid to look in the mirror. There are dark circles and bags under my eyes. I drag the comb through my hair. I need a haircut so badly, and yet I can’t manage to gather the energy to call up my hairdresser and make an appointment.  Once again, I stare into the mirror at my reflection and think, who is that? That can’t be me. When did I get this old?

I shuffle out toward the kitchen and can’t help but notice the disarray I come across with every step. When did I stop caring about, well, everything? I need something or someone to give me a reason to keep going. Ever since my husband died. Well, he didn’t die. He’s just dead to me since, after thirty years of marriage, he left me for another woman. Not even a younger woman, someone my own age. I sigh and head toward the kitchen. I know I‘ll feel better if I get a good breakfast under my belt. That is, if I had a belt that I could still buckle. I really need an exercise routine. I need something that will give me the incentive to get up, get out, and start moving. I decide to make hot oatmeal with raisins. I have always loved hot oatmeal.

That was great, I do feel so much better, and the Earl Grey tea hit the spot as well. I start washing the dishes and wiping down the counters, and even cleaning the sink. The phone rings. It’s probably just someone wanting me to buy something or some scammer trying to sell me additional time on a warranty for a car I no longer own.

“Hello, yes, this is Janice Rathgeb. Who’s this?”

“Mary O’Donnell, you say. Yes, that sounds familiar. Oh yes, you’re my Aunt Patsy’s lawyer. What can I do for you? What, she passed away? I’m sorry to hear that, I haven’t spoken to her in a long time. She was always so kind to me. I should have kept in touch. But you know how things are. You get busy. But that’s no excuse.”

“The reason I’m calling is that your Aunt Mary has left you her most precious possession, but you will have to come here by end of the day to take ownership. Please send me your email address, and I will give you the location where you can take delivery.”

“You want me to come to pick “it” up? Can’t you just mail it to me?”

“No, the condition of taking ownership in your Aunt’s will states clearly that you must come to the location and take ownership.”

I decided to check out my email and the news on the internet. The next thing I know, it’s four hours later. I received the address to pick up my “inheritance.” I can not imagine what my Aunt would give me. She was always kind to me when I was growing up. She was somewhat of an odd duck. She was creative and used to write stories and even paint. She really didn’t fit in with the rest of the family at all.

But she always made time for me. She gave me thoughtful gifts on birthdays and Christmas. One time she took me out and paid for me to go for a ride in a helicopter. I can remember how I was so excited by that ride and didn’t stop talking about it for months. I don’t understand why I stopped seeing and talking to her. And now it’s too late.

I pull myself up out of my chair and head into the kitchen to make some lunch. I decided that tomorrow first thing I would go to the location my Aunt’s lawyer sent me and pick up my mysterious inheritance. I start feeling optimistic about it. Finally, something good is going to happen. After dinner, I plan my trip and pack an overnight bag just in case I have to stay over.

I imagine all the things my aunt might leave me. She was quite a collector of art, antique furniture, and musical instruments. Oh, I almost forgot about the musical instruments. When I was about fifteen, she bought me a mountain dulcimer. It was handmade, and the sounds it created were incredible. I loved that dulcimer. It turned out that I had a natural talent. I played it for many years when I met my husband to be and then we got engaged. He didn’t care for the dulcimer.

He discouraged me from playing, and when we were able to buy our first house, he said I was going to be too busy setting up the household and eventually having children. Turns out he wasn’t able to have kids, so I spent the next thirty years selling insurance. I tried to convince him that we could adopt children, but he said he didn’t want to raise anyone else’s kids.

I went to bed early that night since tomorrow would be a long day of driving. I haven’t been back home for years. After my parent’s passed away, there didn’t seem to be any reason to go back to North Carolina. My whole family had spread out across the country, and no one was left in Pittsboro. It’s a small southern town, and there didn’t seem to be much of a future for me there. So, I moved to the Philadelphia, Pa area. And that’s where I met my future husband.

The next morning, I woke up before the alarm went off. I feel optimistic, as if something wonderful is going to happen. I don’t remember the last time I felt happy. I feel energized and excited. I eat a quick breakfast and drink a cup of coffee. I grab my purse and suitcase and head out to the garage.

I look at my car and wish I had taken the time yesterday to take it to the car wash. I decide to take the time to clear out all the fast-food wrappers and old take-out coffee cups. When did I become such a slob? I used to be so neat and clean. I guess it happened about the time I realized my husband didn’t love me anymore, and it was clear he had found someone else. I just stopped caring about everything, even myself. But today is a new day, and I just feel in my bones that it’s going to be the beginning of something life-changing.

It will take about seven and a half hours to drive from Philadelphia to North Carolina. If I only take a couple of stops along the way, I should arrive at about six ‘clock tonight. I pack a lunch and have a big thermos of coffee. I back out of the garage and get out and lock the garage and check the front and back doors. Everything is locked tight. And I’m off.

My first and only stop is going to be the exact midway point between Philadelphia and Pittsboro in Woodford, Virginia. It is 423 miles at the halfway point. The first half of the trip goes by quickly without any problems. I decide to stop at one of the rest stops to have lunch. I haven’t done that in years. For some reason, I always loved shopping and eating at Rest Stops. The food is always awful and greasy. And to be completely honest, I just love that greasy food.

But somehow, there’s a kind of excitement about being midway between two places and not having any responsibilities or worries other than getting from point A to point B. And then there is the added enjoyment of watching your fellow travelers and listening to their conversations. I have always loved listening to the conversations of strangers. The ones you will never see again. I guess I’m kind of a voyeur.

I pull into a parking spot and grab my purse and lock the car. And head into the rest stop. I use the lady’s room and then find an empty seat and look at the menu. I decide to go for a cheeseburger with the works, including onion, since I’m driving by myself. I also order spicy fries and a piece of apple pie with hot coffee.

As I wait for my order, I look around, and the place is almost completely full.  I see a couple of little kids running all over the place and hear their parents yelling, “Joey and Samantha come back to your seats right now. Your lunch is here.” The kids run around once more until the father yells at the top of his lungs, “get your asses over here and sit down.”

Every head in the restaurant pops up, and everyone quiets down. I guess at some point in their lives, they all had their fathers yell at them with that voice and knew they had better sit down and shut up, or you were in big trouble. I laugh out loud. I stop at the lady’s room once again just in case. And head back to my car for the second half of the trip.

I arrived at the hotel and made a reservation outside of Pittsboro. I gave my aunt’s lawyer a call and let him know I arrived. He gave me an address to meet him tomorrow morning at ten in the morning. I am exhausted by the long drive but, at the same time, excited by all the possibilities of what I may have inherited. My aunt always had a big heart, but she had a great sense of humor, so who knows what would happen tomorrow?

I decide to freshen up in my hotel room and then eat at the restaurant down the street. They promised to have country cooking. Oh, how I always loved country cooking.

The dinner was great and about as Southern as you can get. I left a big tip and thanked the waitress. I promised to stop by again if I ever came this way.

The next morning, I woke up a seven o’clock sharp and got a shower, and headed for the hotel dining room where breakfast. I settled for yogurt and coffee and a buttered muffin. I studied the map last night, and it looks like I have about a forty-five-minute drive to the address I was given. I was told to ask for Liz Fortunato.

I forgot how beautiful North Carolina was in the Spring when all the wildflowers started appearing all along the country roads, and the farms were coming alive. Oh, and all the cows and sheep and horses on the family farms along the way. Really beautiful. I didn’t realize how much I missed it. I was about to make my last turn for my destination when I started thinking, what in the world could my aunt have left for me way out here in the country? And then I saw a large sign at the gate of a beautiful farm. It said Fortunato’s Kennels and Boarding. What in the world did my aunt leave me a horse? What would I do with a horse?

I pulled up to the front gate, and there was a sign that said, Open the Gate, and drive through and close the gate behind you. So, I did just that. I drove down a long driveway past some beautiful pastures with horses and burros and goats and sheep. I pulled over at the end of the driveway when I saw a middle-aged woman walking toward me. “Hello, are you Janice Rathgeb?”

“Yes, are you Liz Fortunato?”

“Yes, I am. I’m so happy that you were able to come out here as quickly as you have. We have been looking forward to meeting you since Harry came to live with us. He is such a wonderful fellow. I know you will fall in love with him the moment you meet him.”

“Harry, who are you talking about?”

“Well, as I understand it, Harry is the inheritance that your favorite aunt left you when she passed away.”

“But what is Harry?”

“Why Harry is a dog, of course. He is the most beautiful Irish Setter I’ve ever had the pleasure to board here at Fortunato’s. I know you will love him as much as we have all come to love him. Hold on while I contact his kennel and have one of the keepers come out with Harry.”

Janice stood there flabbergasted. She was so shocked by the turn of events she didn’t even know how to respond. She hadn’t owned a dog since she was a young girl. When he passed away, she was brokenhearted. She loved that dog more than anything or anyone. She was about ten years old when she passed away. And Janice said she never wanted to have another dog again. Because the loss she felt when he died was more than she could ever take again in her life.

At that moment, a young girl in her twenties came walking up the path toward them, and next to her walked the most beautiful dog that she had ever seen. She realized Harry was the spitting image of her dog Naomi.

“Thank you, Ellen, for bringing Harry. This is Ms. Rathgeb, and she is going to be Harry’s new owner.”

“Oh, Ms. Rathgeb, I’m going to miss Harry so much. He is the most loving dog you can imagine. He has such a sweet temperament.” And with some reluctance, she placed Harry’s leash in Janice’s hand. “Goodbye, Harry. I will miss you so much.” And she turned and walked away.

Janice looked over at Liz Fortunato and said, “Harry is my inheritance?”

“Well, yes, I suppose he is. When your aunt became ill, she contacted me and asked if I could care for him until you arrived. That was about a month ago. I heard she passed about two weeks ago. I was sad to hear it. She was the kindest soul I had ever met. And Harry here, well, he is an angel. There are no other words to describe him. He never met anyone that he didn’t like, and everyone who has met him loved him on sight. I’m not exaggerating.”

Janice looked at Harry, and he looked right into her eyes, and her heart began to melt. He stepped forward a few steps and place his beautiful face in the palm of her hand, and she leaned over and began petting his beautiful long, silky coat. “Wow, he reminds me so much of a dog I had when I was a child. I loved that dog.”

“I have no doubt but that you will fall in love with Harry in no time at all. He is intelligent, has a sweet and loving nature, and rarely barks. As I said, everyone had come to love him and will miss him. But we know he will be happy with you. I’m sure your Aunt knew what would make you happy. Unconditional love and loyalty.”

Janice got down on her knees and petted Harry from the tip of his nose to the end of his tail. “Oh, he is such a beautiful dog.” Janice felt her heart melt a little, and then Harry put his head on her knee and looked up into her eyes. And that’s when Janice knew that nothing her aunt could have left her would be better than this beautiful dog. Who she had no doubt she would love for the rest of his life.  And she had found a soul that would give her life meaning and unconditional love.

Thank you, Ms. Fortunato. I have to agree I can’t imagine any greater gift that my aunt could bestow upon me than this beautiful dog.”

Janice took Harry’s lead and said, “let’s go home, Harry.” And he walked off with her towards her car and never looked back. Janice opened the back door of the car and jumped in as if he had done it a thousand times before. Janice got in the front seat, locked the doors, and started driving toward the gate. “Well, Harry, I wonder what life has in store for us? I don’t know for sure, but I know it will be a wonderful adventure.”

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And The Winner Is

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It’s early Saturday morning and my doorbell rings four times. Before I can answer the door, they knock several times using my new brass doorknocker, two Eskimos rubbing noses. I found it in an antique store in Philadelphia called Antiques R Us. I know that’s tacky but they have some really cool stuff in there.

I trip over my cat Sloopy in my rush to get to the door. Sloopy is trying to escape. He’s terrified of both the doorbell and knocking at the door. I step up to the door out of breath and a bit worse for wear. I see a UPS man standing there. He has his middle finger pressed firmly against the doorbell.

I flash him the universal signal for knock it off, a hand across the throat through the window in the door. I fumble around looking for the key to the front door. It’s in the top drawer of the desk next to the door.

I yank the door so energetically that I nearly rip the door off the hinges. “Hey, you can stop ringing the doorbell. What in god’s name is your problem? Couldn’t you just toss the package on the porch like you usually do?”

The man sneers at me. You probably don’t really know what that means until somebody actually directs that look at you. “I haven’t got all day lady. Can you please sign this?”

He hands me the electronic signature thingy. I sign it. My signature looks like Sanskrit or something. He thrust a heavy white envelope into my hand. He does an about-face and walks down the sidewalk and propels himself into his truck. He pulls out without even checking for traffic coming in his direction. Maniac.

I close the door and look at the envelope. I don’t recognize the return address. It looks like a wedding invitation. Good god, almighty is it possible that I’m being invited to yet another of my college friends’ second-time-around weddings? This will make the sixth one in two years. I don’t think anyone should expect their friends to go to another wedding and give another expensive gift for a marriage that probably won’t last until the second anniversary.

I tear open the envelope. Surprise it isn’t a wedding invitation. It’s an invitation to a Scavenger Hunt. Seriously a Scavenger Hunt, who am I Katherine Heyburn? Where’s my Cary Grant? I look at the invitation for the who, what, and where of it all. It’s from a mysterious someone who is an associate of my investment broker Bill Holden. It’s scheduled for December 31st, 2019 in New York City, from 8 pm until midnight.

Are they kidding New Year’s Eve in New York City? I throw the invitation down on the coffee table. I walk back to the kitchen to finish eating my now soggy Captain Crunch cereal. I sip my lukewarm tea.

I idly tap my spoon against the table. I imagine myself dressed to kill, wearing my to-die-for black fur-lined cape. It has a hand-embroidered trim with golden bumblebees. I haven’t really had an opportunity to wear it yet. New Year’s Eve would be the perfect occasion to make its debut.

Well, why not? It could be a wonderful adventure. I’ll use the limo service the invitation listed. I can drink champagne and eat caviar. Well, maybe not caviar. I hate it but definitely drink champagne.

I walk back to the living room and pick up the invitation and take it back into the kitchen with me. I read it over several times. There’s a contact email to RSVP. That’s kind of odd, but it’s the digital age. I walk over to my computer and boot it up. and send my RSVP to the email address.

I’m busy all day Saturday doing errands. I had to take some of my business suits to the dry cleaners and then I have my nails done and highlights added to my hair. I really want to make a good impression on New Year’s Eve. It’s only ten days away. I stop by on my way home to visit my mother. She lives about fifteen minutes from my house in an over fifty-community.

I knock at the door and my mother answers out of breath. “Santina, you nearly scared me to death coming to the door this early morning.”

“Mother it’s two in the afternoon. You must have slept in this morning.”

My mother has a very close relationship with Vodka Martinis. She likes to throw back a few every evening as she watches some man-hating movie on the LMN Channel. She just hasn’t been the same since my father ditched her and married his dental assistant seven years ago. She swears she wouldn’t have been as bitter if the woman had at least been a younger woman and not someone the same age. Somehow, I doubt that would have made that much difference.

“Can I come in mother?”

“Of course, who said you couldn’t?”

I follow my mother through the foyer and the pristine, never used, formal living room into the kitchen.

“Would you like a cup of coffee, Santina?”

“No thank you Mother, but if you have tea that would be great.” My mother refuses to acknowledge that I never drink coffee. It’s just another of her odd little quirks. “Mother guess what?”

Before I can continue, she says, “Santina, I’ve told you time and again that I don’t like guessing games. How in the world would I be able to guess?”

“Mother it’s only a figure of speech. I didn’t really expect you to guess. I was invited to a New Years’ Eve Scavenger Hunt in New York City, isn’t that exciting?”

“New York City, oh I don’t know Santina. That sounds dangerous. Who are you going with? Who is hosting this scavenger hunt?”

“I’m going by myself. I’ve rented a limo to take me there and drive me around. It will be perfectly safe.”

“You didn’t answer me about who invited you?”

“A friend of Bill Holden, my investments broker.”

“How long have you known him Santina?”

I hesitate for a moment and say, “oh I met him six months ago Mother. He’s very well known in the business community.” A bald-faced lie, but I was not about to tell my mother I never met the man.

“Oh well then that seems safe enough, but be aware that there are a lot of crazy people out there on New Year’s Eve in New York City looking for people to take advantage.”

“I know Mother. I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself. Well, I better get going I have a lot of things to do this weekend. I have a busy workweek ahead of me. I’ll see you later Mom. I’ll give you a call during the week.”

“What? You just got here. Why are you always in a rush to leave Santina? I didn’t even make you your tea.”

I stand up and awkwardly hug my mother. “Never mind Mother I wasn’t really that thirsty.” I head back to the front door and into my SAAB. Somehow my visits with my mother are always brief. I love her, but I just don’t enjoy spending time with her. It’s a shame, but that’s just the way it is with us.

The next week flies by before you know it; it’s New Year’s Eve. I’m dressed to kill.  Even if I do say so myself, I look stunning in my sequined gold vintage Valentino umpire dress. I picked it up for a song in an out-of-the-way shop on South Street in Philadelphia. My cape swirls around me with my every move.

The limo arrives right on time and the chauffeur comes to my door. He’s a handsome man with jet-black hair and a mustache. If that isn’t enough, he has a Middle Eastern accent that’s sexy as hell. When I open the door, I do it with a flourish. He greets me, “Are you, Madam Ferraro?”

“Yes, yes, I am, and you are?”

“My name is Amir Bashara, I am at your service.”

He looks like he could be a sheik, my heart starts pounding and my imagination goes into overdrive. I force myself to calm down. “Yes Amir, here is the list of destinations for the evening. I’m ready to go. I reach over and grab my purse and my digital camera. I follow him out to the limo. It’s gleaming in the light cast by a nearby streetlight. I feel like Cinderella on her way to the ball.

Amir opens the back door and says in his deep, melodic voice, “everything is as you have requested Madam, let me know if I can be of service in any way. There is an intercom in the back should you need anything at all.”

I sit down on the doe soft leather of the back seat. Six people could sit here comfortably. I see a discreet black refrigerator; within it are the chilled champagne I requested and a platter of horderves. I adjust my cape that had become twisted around my legs when I stepped inside the car. Capes are a thing of beauty but not really practical, like many things in life. I stare momentarily at Amir’s profile and dream of a thousand Arabia nights. I let my imagination visit there for a while.

I consider my coming evening. I think about my quest, the places I will visit, and the treasures I must capture. The instructions in the email I received said I must visit the 42nd and Broadway Theater and either take a picture of the theater where the musical Chicago is playing or somehow get a ticket stub for it.

The next goal is to stop in at the Pego Club and have one of their famous cocktails and take the glass. The third stop is the Ice-Skating Rink at Rockefeller Square. I must capture a picture of the Skaters in motion. The final goal is to visit the observatory at the top of the Empire State Building. Where I will meet up with my fellow scavenger hunters and find out who they are. And who is this mysterious person who invited me on this wonderful adventure?

New York City

Photograph by David Mark-Pixabay

The evening passes quickly, and the crisp air in the city is almost electric with excitement. People are walking up and down the streets in glamorous tuxedos and sparkling dresses. I arrive at the theater and see the sign for Chicago. “Amir, could you stop here and let me out? Could you drive around the block and then pick me up in front of the theater? It shouldn’t take me long.”

“Yes of course Madam, would you like me to accompany you?”

“What? No, that’s not necessary, but thank you very much for the offer. I’ll be fine. This won’t take me more than a few moments. I step out of the car and onto the street. It’s unbelievable how crowded the theater district is. There are actors walking around in costumes from some of the shows that are playing in the theaters. I walk up to the theater playing Chicago and take several quick shots of the Marquee and the people milling about. I look around on the ground for a ticket that someone might have dropped. It’s difficult to see because of the constantly moving feet of the people around me. I hear a deep and familiar voice say. “Madam is this what you are looking for?”

I look up at Amir standing there, looking like Aladdin. “Oh, Amir that’s very kind of you but unnecessary. I’m quite capable of taking care of myself. ”

“I have no doubt Madam, but such a beautiful woman as yourself should have company in this great city of New York.”

I look at him closely. I hope he isn’t some kind of stalker. I don’t see crazy in his eyes, but you never know. He hands me a ticket. It’s a stub for Chicago musical. “Wow thank you very much, Amir. I guess we can be on our way.”

“Follow me madam the car is right over here.”

Somehow, he found a parking spot right in front of the theater. He opens the door for me. I step in like Cinderella into the pumpkin carriage.

It doesn’t take very long to arrive at the Pego Club. There’s a long line of people waiting to go inside. I wonder how I will be able to go in and get a cocktail and grab the glass. And still, have time for the other two destinations.

“Madam if you would allow me to step out for a moment I will see if I can arrange for you to enter more quickly?”

“Really, why that would be wonderful. Otherwise, I think I will be waiting in line all night.”

Amir pulls the limo into a spot that miraculously appears in front of us. I look at his mysterious eyes in the rearview mirror. He’s looking back at me. I look down quickly embarrassed to be caught looking at his handsome face. He steps out of the car and disappears into the crowd. The car seems suddenly empty and missing some essential energy. He returns in a few moments and taps on my window. “Madam, I have arranged for us to go in long enough for a drink.”

Us, did he say us? He takes off his cap and puts it in the passenger side of the front seat. I realize for the first time how tall he is and that he’s wearing a very expensive suit that fits him like it was tailored for him. “Oh of course.” I stammer and somehow get out of the car gracefully. My cape flows out behind me like the train on a wedding dress. He offers me his hand as I step out onto the sidewalk. I feel a surge of electricity flow between us. I think I really shouldn’t have drunk that entire carafe of champagne.

I can’t help but notice that the crowd seems to make a path for us to the door. The bouncer lets us walk right in. There’s a low buzz of people talking in the background. A wonderful aroma of incense or perfume is in the air. It reinforces the feeling that I’m walking into a dream. Amir finds a space at the crowded bar and orders. He hands me my cocktail and drinks something dark and golden. After I finish my drink Amir hands me a bag.

“This is for your glass Madam.”

“Amir please call me Santina. I would appreciate it.”

“Madam, I mean Santina that’s a beautiful name. It fits you. Sorry I shouldn’t make such a personal comment.”

I stare at him. He doesn’t really look like he is embarrassed. I’m at a loss for how I should act since I have never been in a situation like this before. “Oh, that’s fine thank you very much. I guess we should be on our way.”

“Of course, let’s be off to the skating rink, I’ve only been there once as a little girl. I’ve been looking forward to seeing it very much.”

The next thing I know we glide up to Rockefeller Center. It’s very crowded. Apparently, everyone wants to skate on the small rink on this beautiful New Year’s Eve.

“Santina would you like to skate on the rink? I can arrange it for you if you wish?”

“What? Oh no, another time would be wonderful. I’m really not dressed for skating, thank you.”

“As you wish. If you would like I will take a picture of you, next to the rink. Then we can be off to the final destination of the Empire State Building observatory.”

We arrive at the Empire State Building at quarter to Twelve.  We are parked at the Fifth Avenue entrance. The street is a wonderland glowing with magnificent Christmas lights and gold and silver decorations.

As we exit the car, I see there are snowflakes beginning to fall. It really seems like a wonderful dream. Amir takes my hand as I get out of the car. I forget that he is my limousine driver. I feel like a princess whose hand is being held by her prince, her Arabian prince. I allow myself to be lost for this moment in this fantasy. We walk into the lobby. It’s an amazing combination of beautiful lights and soft music from a Quartet playing in the background.

“Santina, the elevator is this way.” He escorts me to what looks like a private elevator.

“Amir this can’t be the public elevator. This looks like a private elevator.”

“Santina, it’s alright we can go this way. It has all been arranged for you.”

For me? I wonder what he means by that.  Oh, he must mean for the scavenger hunt group. The elevator arrives at the observatory in what seems like a twinkling of the eye. Amir takes my hand as I step out of the elevator. The view is unbelievably beautiful. The city of New York City is ablaze with lights in every direction. I’m awed by the vision before me.

We walk over to the far wall. Amir makes a sweeping gesture with his arms. I look in Amir’s eyes and he’s looking back into mine. He leans down toward me. All the fireworks and whistles and horns are blowing, fireworks can be seen in the distance. I hear “Happy New Year Santina. It’s all for you. You have only to reach out and take it.”

The Gift

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By Susan Culver

Jack opens his eyes, blinking at the morning sun streaming through the vertical blinds. Then he remembers today is his tenth birthday. The package from his Uncle Pat is supposed to arrive in the mail. He can hardly wait another minute. He jumps out of bed and throws his clothes on and runs down the steps to the kitchen. Every year his Uncle sends him something wonderful and unique. Last year he sent him a telescope, not a toy telescope but a professional one. It was a Meade StarNavigator. It opened up a new world to Jack. The first time he looked through the scope, he couldn’t believe what lay before his eyes.

The inky night sky is filled with precious gems waiting to be discovered. Every night after Jack finishes his homework, he goes out to the back deck and studies the sky.  On his last birthday, his mom and dad gave him a book on Navigating by the stars. Jack has read the book five times since then and memorized the star map. Now he can recognize each constellation regardless of the time of year.  He never tires of it. Sometimes he sneaks out of his bed early in the morning and looks at the moon that hasn’t retired for the day yet. It makes him feel so small and yet big at the same time.

“Well, good morning Jack, happy birthday.” Says his father from behind the New York Times.

“Thank you, Dad. Did it come yet? Did it come yet?”

“Did what come yet, Jack?”

” Oh, Steven, don’t tease him. You know very well what he’s talking about.”

“Yes, it came Jack. It’s on the hall table next to the door. Why don’t you go and get it? We’ll open it together.”

Jack finds a large package on the table and carries it with some difficulty to the kitchen. He carries the package as if it’s made of glass. For all, he knows, it is. Perhaps it’s a crystal ball that can tell the future or a geode that has fallen from one of those distant stars in the sky that he knows and loves so well. His Uncle Pat is in the military and travels all over the world. So, you never know what treasure he might find.

Jack’s heart is pounding so hard he feels it might burst. But he keeps a slow and steady pace as he carries his prize to the kitchen. “Here it is, Mom, here it is.”

“I see that Jack, bring it over to the table, and let’s see what your Uncle has sent you this year.”

As his mother carefully opens the package, Jack, holds his breath. She takes off the brown wrapping paper so slowly it’s excruciating. “Breathe, Jack ,breathe.” His father says and laughs.

A box is inside. Jack looks down at it. There’s a picture of a sailboat on the top of the box. The box bears the legend Thunder Tiger Yacht. Jack gasp, “Oh, Mom, it’s a sailboat, oh how wonderful. It’s what I always wanted.”

His parents look at one another and laugh, “Oh Jack, you say that every year when you get Uncle Pat’s present. It does look like a beauty. Let’s open up the box and see how she looks.”

Jack carefully removes the top of the box and looks inside. The most beautiful boat is held there. His father comes over and looks at the boat. “Wow, she looks like a real yacht. My brother always wanted a boat like this. It looks like he’s living out his childhood dreams through you, Jack, lucky boy.”

“Can I take it out?”

“Of course, you can, Jack, it’s your boat. On Saturday, we’ll take her out to the Central Park for her maiden voyage. Until then, you’ll have to be satisfied with putting her together. It looks like you have to install the keels, rudder, and the mast and sails. The rudder is like a steering wheel. There are two sails, the mainsail and the jig sail that create more power in the wind. The mast is a pole that attaches to the sails one on either side. The keel is on the bottom of the boat and creates stability and prevents it from tipping over.

Jack spends the entire afternoon reading the instructions and putting the remaining parts on the boat. Each piece is carefully put into place as the manual instructed. When he finishes, it’s almost five feet tall. It’s magnificent. At dinnertime, Jack talks about the boat and how much he loves it. How beautiful it is with its pristine white sails with a flash of red across the mainsail to the jib. The Hull is emboldened by the name, Thunder Tiger across it in bold red letters.

After dinner, Jack goes out and studies the stars. He wonders what it would be like to sail a boat across the ocean to some exotic foreign land or perhaps discover an unknown or forgotten place. And perhaps discover wonderful treasures long forgotten? He looks into the starry night and imagines navigating the boat across the sea with only the stars to guide him on his journey.

Before he goes to bed, Jack sits down at his desk and writes his Uncle Pat a note. “Dear Uncle Pat, thank you so very much for the beautiful sailboat. I know I’ll have lots of fun with it. Dad says we can take it out on Saturday to Central Park for its maiden voyage. Love Jack.

Jack is so excited he has trouble falling asleep. He tosses and turns. He awakes early in the morning to a strange sensation. It feels like the room is swaying. His bed is rocking from side to side. He opens his eyes to see what time it is. He’s doesn’t understand what he’s seeing. He isn’t in his bedroom. Instead, he sees a room that’s paneled with beautiful dark wood. He’s lying on a hammock that is attached to the walls on either side. It’s a small room with what looks like a sink and cooking area. He sees a door, so he walks over to look through the doorway. The strange sense of the room swaying is even more apparent as the walks across the small room.

On the other side of the door is a very small bathroom with a standing shower.  He can’t make any sense out of it. He steps back and looks around again. He sees what appears to be a porthole.  He presses his face against the window, and to his utter amazement in the still somewhat dim light, he sees water, nothing but water.

But that can’t be right. He went to bed last night in his room. How in the world did he get here? Was he drugged and kidnapped? Did he suffer some kind of head injury, and lost his memory? He goes back into the little bathroom and turns the overhead light on and looks in the mirror. It’s him no older, no younger, and no different. Just what in the world has happened? He decides to go look around.

He finds what appears to be a hatch. He pushes it open and pulls himself up. He’s standing on the deck of a ship. It looks to be about thirty foot long. There is a mast with two sails, a mainsail, and a smaller jig sail. There’s a slash of red across the two sails. “Wait a minute, this is weird. It  looks like the model yacht that Uncle Pat sent me for my birthday. But that can’t be. That’s crazy. Unless I have somehow shrunk down to fit inside the model, no, that’s impossible.”

Jack walks all around the deck and examines each part of it, including the sails, the coiled ropes, and the controls for sailing the boat. He guesses everything he needs is here to sail the boat. But he can’t say for sure because he has never been on a boat before. Then he has a hopeful moment when it occurs to him that someone else might be on board. He calls out, “Hello, hello, is anyone here? Oh, please let someone else be here.”

No one answers, so he supposes he’s the only occupant. He looks out in every direction, but he sees nothing out there in the dim light to indicate where he is.

He decides to wait until the sun comes up, and maybe he can figure out where he is. The boat isn’t moving other than the subtle swaying from side to side. He sits and waits for the light to reveal where he is.

Jack’s stomach is beginning to growl, so he decides to go below and see if there’s anything to eat. He looks in the little refrigerator and finds milk and bread and cheese and some bologna. He makes a sandwich and drinks the milk right out of the carton. Almost immediately, he’s sorry he ate the sandwich. And he really regrets drinking the milk. He starts to feel nauseous and runs into the bathroom. He gets there just in time.

When he feels well enough again to start moving around, he goes back up on the deck. The sun is up, and in the distance,  he can see the Statue of Liberty and the skyline of New York. He’s on the Hudson River. He feels relieved that he isn’t in the middle of the ocean but still doesn’t know how he’ll sail this boat back to Battery Park. Where are his parents, and why would they let him go on a trip by himself in a sailboat? He decides to look in the cabin and look for some kind of instructions on how to sail the boat. He wonders if the reason he isn’t moving is because the anchor is in the water. As he walks towards the cabin, a wind starts to pick up.  And suddenly, the jib swings around and hits Jack hard in the head, and he’s knocked down.

The next thing he remembers is his mother leaning down over him, calling his name over, and over again, Jack wake up you’re having a bad dream. Wake up, Jack. He opens his eyes, and there’s his mother’s worried face looking down at him. “Mom, mom, I was so scared. Where were you and Dad? Why did you let me go on a sailboat all by myself?

“Jack, it was just a dream you weren’t in a sailboat. You were here in your room fast asleep. You just had a dream.”

“But Mom, I hit my head on the jib, and it still hurts. Right here.”

“Let me see Jack. Well, you do have a pretty big bruise there. You must have fallen out of bed during the night or bumped it going to the bathroom. I’ll get you some ice and aspirin. Everything is alright, Jack.”

Jack looks around his room, and there’s the Thunder Tiger sitting on his desk. Jack walks over to it and inspects it from stem to stern. The bottom of the boat is wet, and there’s water on the deck. Jack shakes his head and decides that he’ll keep his journey to himself. But just in case he’ll start learning how to sail a boat. The next time he takes a midnight journey into the night, he’ll be ready to navigate the boat as well as read the stars.