A Secret To Keep

I hate getting off work this late. The night shift at the diner means that I have to walk home in the dark which freaks me the fuck out. I’m a huge scaredy-cat to begin with, but throw me on a dark street at night, with no one around, and I’m pissing my pants at my own shadow. Tonight is no different.

“I’m heading out!” I shout to the kitchen staff who just clocked in.

It’s 3:00 a.m. and I worked a double shift today because someone called in sick. I don’t mind working, I need the money. It just sucks when it ends up being the late shift.

“Be careful out there” Doreen says, “ And let me know you get home safely.”

Doreen is like a mother to me. Always worrying and looking out for me. She often works the early morning shift because she likes the quiet, so she can knit and get paid for it. She is married to the owner who rarely shows his face. Doreen basically runs this place and she's always finding girls like me a job there. There seems to be a quick turn around though, most of the girls leave after a few weeks. I guess it's not for everyone, but I am quite fond of this place.

“Ok!” I say back. “I may call you if I something sketches me out!"

Doreen has, more than once, stayed on the phone with me the whole walk home because I felt uneasy about a passerby or spooked myself. It's crazy how powerful the mind is.

I grab my purse from the counter and throw it over my shoulder. I zip my jacket to my chin, pull my toque down over my ears, and head out the back door of the diner.

I try my best to stay on the main streets when I walk home at this time of night. One hand is always on my phone in my pocket, and the other is on the pepper spray in my bag.

As I walk down Gordon Avenue, a few minute from my building, I see a gold car throw something out the driver’s window and peel off. I am far enough back that they wouldn’t see me, but whatever it is, it’s fairly large.

My head starts reeling at what it might be. It could be an animal. I see it all the time on Facebook and Instagram, people finding animals abandoned in bags or boxes and left for dead. I have to walk that way anyhow, so I’ll check to make sure it’s nothing alive. I have an uneasy feeling in my gut as I approach the discarded item. I pause in the middle of the street, pulling out my pepper spray, and take a very careful look around, to make sure I am alone. I can’t see anyone, so I continue walking towards the object. I’m trying to figure out what it is before I get there. The shape looks familiar. I stop again.

“What if it’s a dead body” I think to myself. The way the car drove off, it must be something sketchy. I shake my head.

“No! You will not be finding a dead body tonight! The item is way to small to fit an entire person… I think.”

I continue to approach the item, walking slower and slower as I get closer. I can see now that it is a bag of sorts. A gym bag or small duffle bag maybe.

“Oh God. It could be a bomb. I should just leave it.” I start to cross the road to walk on the other side. I stop halfway and turn back to look at the bag, sitting there on the side of the street.

“I need to make sure there isn’t a living creature in there” I whisper to myself, convincing myself it’s the right thing to do.

I walk back to the bag and take a deep breath before opening the main zipper. I peer in the bag with one eye open and one eye prepared for an explosion or something else disastrous.

“Holy Shit!” I nearly shout and then cover my mouth quickly, glancing around to see if anyone has appeared since my last look around. Still no one that I can see.

I look back into the bag to check that I wasn’t imagining it.

Money. A very large sum of money.

“Oh my God.” I zip it back up quickly. My heart races as I stand up, picking the bag up. I have to take it with me. I should definitely turn this in to the cops in the morning. I look around again. There seems to be no one around. Not a soul anywhere. I quickly throw the bag over my shoulder take pace walking home.

“Someone is definitely going to be looking for this” I tell myself, which causes me to start panicking.

Maybe I should leave it?

No! I have to turn it in.

But maybe I don't.

I decide to take some side streets and make my trek a bit longer, but get off the street I’m on in case someone comes looking for bag. I really start to freak out and decide to hail a cab. I don't want to be seen caring this bag at all.

I arrive home shortly after 4:00 a.m. I grab my cellphone to call Doreen and let her know I am home safe. I want to tell her about this and get her advice. I trust her with all my secrets.

“I was starting to worry” she says. “Usually only takes you 30 minutes to walk home.”

“Yeah, sorry.” I say. “Something happened on my way home.” I try to explain without giving any details over the phone.

“Are you ok?” she asks with a worried tone.

“Yeah… I think so. But, can you come over after your shift is done?” I ask her.

“Of course. You sure you’re alright?” she confirms.

“Mhmm, just need some advice from someone I trust”.

I hang up and contemplate my decision to tell Doreen what I have just stumbled across. I don't want to get her involved in something if this goes sideways. I stare at the bag. I need to take another look to make sure I didn’t invent this whole thing.

I decide that I should probably put gloves on before touching anything, and maybe tie my hair back. It’s not like I’ve done anything wrong, yet, but I might as well cover my bases.

I quickly walk to my bathroom and grab one of my hair nets for work and tuck my hair back. Being Covid19 and all, I also decide to throw on a face mask, along with some rubber gloves. I take off my knit sweater (I wouldn't want any fibers to fall from it) and head back to the bedroom wearing just my leggings and a cotton t-shirt. Ready, and looking like a criminal who is about to handle a body or some serious drugs, I open the bag back up.

I quickly race over to my kitchen to grab a plastic garbage bag.

“I need to count this” I say to myself with conviction."I should know how much money I'm holding"

I start pulling out the carefully bundled rolls of money. The denominations are completely random, so I start carefully putting the money into piles of $1000 on the garbage bag. I make sure to keep the elastics that were holding them together so I can roll them back up.

I count the piles.

$20,000!

This could change my life, if I don’t tell anyone. If I don't do the right things and go to the police. I mean, what would they do with it anyways. They'd probably keep it for themselves.

“Who would have twenty Gs hanging out in a duffel bag?” I ask myself. "A duffel bag that they threw out the window and left on the side of the street."

It’s odd. I check the front pocket on the bag and see a little black book tucked into the corner. I pull it out and look inside. I see a list of addresses, some crossed out, some circled.

“What are these for?” I wonder out loud. “Debt? Laundering?” I start to think of scenarios that would include this type of cash and a bunch of random addresses. "A brothel maybe?" My mind goes to a dark place, and I think of where I might be if I hadn't gotten a job at the diner.

I scan the addresses to see if I recognize any of the street names.

“Hmmm…” I think. None of these are ringing a bell. I continue to scan.

Page 5 stops me dead in my tracks. I finally recognize an address.

2566 Wellington St.

The diner.

I quickly grab my phone a hit send twice to redial the last number I called.

“Hey, it’s me. Yeah, yeah, I'm ok. I'm sorry if I worried you earlier. I'm just calling to let you know you don’t have to stop by later, I’m all good.”

“You sure hun? I don’t mind." She goes quiet. "Hey, just out of curiosity, did you see anything strange on your walk home? You said something happened.” She questions and I hear a bit of tension in her voice.

My heart sinks. Maybe I don’t know her as well as I thought.

“ Nope, no.”I say quickly. “I just tripped and scuffed my knee. I wanted your advice on whether or not to go get stitches, but uh, I called my mom and showed her on Facetime. She said it should be fine, so I’m going to go to sleep now.” I stumble through the words, nervous that she’ll catch on to my lie.

“Ok, dear. Have a good rest. I can take a look on our shift tomorrow to make sure it’s healing alright.” She responds dryly, and hangs up.

I sit down on my bed and stare at the wall. What have I gotten myself into.

I think back to times at the diner where Doreen would take money out of the register or put some in and I chalked it up to being the owner's wife. I think about all the girls that have come and gone, then shake my head. There's no way.

I can’t take this to the cops, because the diner is somehow tied up in it. Doreen is somehow tied up in it. So, I am going to keep it, and not tell a soul about it. I will spend it slowly, diligently. I put the money back into the bag and tuck it under my bed.

I lay down, resting for the first time in almost 24 hours. It'll all be fine, I just have to injure my knee so that Doreen doesn’t suspect anything. She has no reason not to trust me. I will be $20,000 richer and no one gets in trouble. Not on my account anyways... I assume whoever lost this is going to have to pay for it.

"Ugh, might as well get it over with now," I groan and get back up.

I walk outside and look at the rough sidewalk. I take a deep breath, closing my eyes.

“This is going to hurt."