20K

She could feel the sweat as it snaked down her cleavage, and down her back; her armpits felt wet, her skin felt prickly and moist. The heat was oppressive, it felt thick to breathe, “just think cool thoughts” she said over and over in her head. Sitting in standstill traffic with a busted air conditioner on what felt like the hottest day of the year was probably just her luck. Kizzie couldn’t help but laugh to herself. She reached for her phone but thought better of it, a fender bender would quickly turn that rueful laughter to tears. She put the car in park, after all she hadn’t moved in at least 3 minutes, and then picked up her phone to see if anyone called, if anyone was looking for her.

Less than one hour ago Kizzie was walking out of her statistics exam not exactly sure how she felt about it. I mean statistically, she knew she’d do well, she smiled at her own joke. Head down her mind was whizzing through the exam questions, mentally reviewing the few questions that she struggled with. Her car was parked in overflow parking, as she approached she lifted her gaze, and right in plain sight between her front right tire and the overgrown bush that she parked next to was a wad of cash, not on the paved parking spot but it seemed to sit on top of the grass. She stepped back, moving away from her car now. Instinctively a big wad of cash scared her. Her head spun, who was watching? Maybe she saw too many movies, but this must surely be a trap.

Mundane, boring, dreary, these adjectives didn’t even give enough credence to how dull her life was. School, library, tutoring, meals eaten alone, a visit to the convalescent home to cheer on her aunt’s recovery, summed up a week in the life of this postgraduate actuarial science student.

The car in front of her moved; Kizzie put her car in drive, adjusted her body to get some air to circulate her sweaty thighs, and inched forward in the line of traffic. Back at the school, she’d turned away from her car, she hoped her movements appeared purposeful in case anyone was watching and she walked briskly to the first building pretending she’d forgotten something. She ducked into the bathroom and wet her face. Waited, not sure why and not sure how long she needed to wait either. Should she find school security and have them escort her to her car? Then they would see the money and surely confiscate it. She knew she should turn it into the authorities. It looked drug money-ish, crisp and bound. In that same vein of thought, she rebutted herself, why couldn’t it look bank-ish? Why was there the assumption that it was criminal?

Not sure what to do, Kizzie went into a stall, pulled out her black, leatherbound journal, and decided to give herself a few moments to collect her thoughts. She jotted down every possible scenario that came to her mind. Maybe once she returned it would be gone, maybe it was a kidnapping ransom, or a clumsy billionaire parked in her space before, maybe a drug lord that hurriedly got in their car to make a getaway. Crazy thoughts crowded the pages of her journal. But like magic, as she put pen to paper her mind became clearer.

She walked back to her car, sure now about what she was going to do. As she approached the car, her scarf fluttered to the ground concealing the cash, she kicked it further into the brush, got in her car, and made her way off-campus. Checking her rearview mirror occasionally nothing seemed out of place. Until the grid-locked traffic, she encountered less than a mile from the school. Now as she sat in her car, she wondered if this had anything to do with her situation. She wondered if someone would walk up to her car and accost her, she nervously checked her phone again but reassured herself that she did nothing wrong...as yet.

The traffic inched forward and she saw the culprit, a classic Mercedes Benz; the real James Bond sexy kind, and a Jeep Cherokee at the intersection. Kizzie tried not to stare, just in case any of the involved parties had anything to do with the secret she was harboring. In that second her plan changed. As soon as she drove past the accident, she turned the next corner and made her way back to campus. What was she thinking! She didn’t have time to think, she was acting on instinct and adrenaline.

She pulled into the parking lot, drove up to the spot she’d vacated, still empty! She jumped out, grabbed her scarf and the stack of cash altogether, ditched it under the front passenger seat, and headed back out into the heat and the traffic. By now there was a detour and she was able to escape back to the safe, boring quarters she called home, careful to monitor all the way that she wasn’t being followed. She took a circuitous route and threw her phone with all her might out of the window as she drove by a playground. When she got home, she ran in, with haste and without even counting it she hid the cash and left again, this time she headed to the police station.

Walking calmly up to the counter with her scarf in hand, she told the officer on duty “Hello, my name is Kizzie Sutherland and I’d like to report a lost or stolen cell phone.”

After she filed the police report, Kizzie returned home. She mulled over what she’d done on the drive back to her apartment. She didn’t have much time to hatch a plan, all she knew was that if she was being followed the “bad guys” would likely think that she had reported the cash and turned it in. Kizzie was patient, she waited until late that night, made her way cautiously in the dark to the hiding place, and retrieved her treasure. Careful not to turn on any lights she sat on her bed and counted by the light of cell phone $20,000 in crisp $100 dollar bills.

The next morning she went to the supermarket, bought a loaf of bread, some Soprassata, her favorite, and some Cranberry juice. This was the moment of truth. She made her way to the cashier and pulled out $100 mixed in with other small bills. She turned the $100 over to the cashier and with her breath held she waited for the cashier to check with the pen. It seemed like time slowed down, but in real-time a quick swipe of the pen and a roll through the machine, the cashier gave her $86.50 in change and her parcel of what would be lunch. Kizzie strode out with a slight smile knowing that she was on her way to the school’s Bursar’s office.