Beta

I stood at the orange door to the storage unit I have been living in the last four years and took a deep breath. After returning home from a few hours out, I sometimes wondered, how did I end up here? How did the drastic changes in my life not consume me whole? Why am I still pushing through it all, when I am at what seems to be the bottom of life? I sighed, releasing a strap from my right arm and beginning to fumble around in my backpack to get my key. I glanced around to see if anyone was watching me, and quickly located the key and unlocked the lock to my unit. I slid the door upwards on a huff and looked inside to everything that was left of what I owned.

I looked at the home I had made for myself and, in that moment, I felt proud of my ability to downsize so beautifully. I walked inside and quickly slid the door back down, locking it from the inside by jamming a screwdriver between the metal hinge to prevent the door from being opened in any way. Turning around, I realized I was submerged in complete darkness, but I was remarkably familiar with my humble abode and knew where my light was located. I had one of those light bulbs with two electrical sockets attached, which provided me with power to cook on my electrical burner and use my heater at night. I quickly learned how unlimited my resources were in my life before, when I had next to none now.

I turned the light on, placed my bookbag in the corner and sat in the one chair I had. When I originally bought this unit, it was several years ago. I would rarely use it, because I had more than enough storage in my home. I used to live in a three-bedroom house with a finished basement in the Lincoln Heights Gated Community. I had bought the home outright and furnished it to my preferences with a hefty interior design budget. I lived alone with my daughter, Beta, and our dog Cohen. The life we lived back then was one of comfort and joy, without any strain or discourse. Until the day it all changed.

After a few minutes, I got up to make dinner, grabbing a pot, a bottle of water and a packet of noodles and began to get dinner started. I opened the small refrigerator and grabbed a small container of pre-diced onions and peppers and set aside a bowl and fork. As I waited for my burner to heat up, I looked around my home and wondered if I needed to get anything tomorrow while I was out. The storage unit was medium sized with just enough room for me. I had a small fold-out bed, a few boxes and the minimum basics for a kitchen (small refrigerator, two eye burners, a plate, a pot, a kettle, a bowl, one coffee cup and two sets of utensils). I made sure to not have anything that was not needed to preserve as much space as possible. As I surveyed the space, I looked at my bed folded up against the wall, gazing at the sheet, pillow and comforter nestled inside and exhaled. I looked to my two plastic portable urinals, that I use for overnight. I glanced at my small but long tote with my few dishes inside and nodded my head, silently realizing that I did not need anything at the moment. I sighed in relief and went back to preparing my dinner of noodles and the added fresh peppers and onions, to make the broth tastier.

After dinner I washed up using baby wipes and prepared for bed. I slept soundly until I heard a sudden noise. The sound was short, but it woke me, and I laid with my eyes open and restless. It was probably someone coming to their unit, who knows. I got up, stretched and saw it was already six in the morning, so I made some instant coffee while looking in my box of books to find something to read. I always loved books and reading had more information and resourceful ideas than actual classes. I looked through the box and discovered I only had two options left that I had not read at this point. A book by Author KC Royale entitled The Merge and a black Moleskine journal I wrote in while in college. When I would look for a book to read, I would always bypass the Moleskine brand journal each time, promising to save it for last, since it was from a time in my life when I was learning about myself, which seemed to still be the case unfortunately. I grabbed the book by KC Royale to begin to read, but suddenly I had a change of heart. I placed the book back in the box, realizing the time has finally come for me to take out the black journal.

I grabbed it and ran my fingers over the cover and spine in awe. Its texture had held strong all this time. I was almost forty-five years old now, and in a situation that most people would not understand or grasp easily. As a parent, I had to choose between sending my daughter to college and paying for her dorm and expenses, or to keep my house. I could no longer work due to my illness, but I couldn’t collect retirement benefits either, since I was not old enough.

I made a choice. One I do not regret. I am a man who put his child first. I am a man who would ensure his daughter had a shot in this cold dark world. I would sacrifice for her all over again if given the chance, because that is my duty as her father. I loved Beta, with all of me. Her life would not be ruined or compromised by a string of unforeseen circumstances. She did the work and got accepted, so it is my job to make sure she can attend the Ivy league University. She is in her fourth year. The storm is almost over for us. I can feel it. I know it.

I made a cup of hot tea and headed to my chair to get settled in with my old journal. I opened the journal and began to read the early beginnings of a young adult named Blane. I read a few short paragraphs of how I was nervous about attending community college and how much I was excited to become a father one day. Then I see additional notes from the latter years about Beta and how I promised myself that I would always be there for her, since her mother’s passing during childbirth. I paused as tears began to stream down my face, as I remembered the one woman I ever loved. Who sacrificed her life to give a life. She was such a compassionate woman, who always gave, even until her death.

I exhaled and continued to read on. I came to a passage about a game of hide the coin, I used to play the game with some friends. It was an extremely hard strategic game where you had to unlock a difficult math question to even begin to find the hidden coin. I smiled because I remember how stressed the games were, but I had actually won one year. I had forgotten all about that coin, but I saved it and hid it for myself. At one time, years ago, I had wondered where I had put that coin. I continued to read finding out I had taped the coin to the back of Beta’s birth certificate picture frame. That frame is the only picture I have on the wall in my home, embedded in the metal. It’s a reminder of who I live for and why I sacrifice, every day, to ensure Beta has a future. I set the journal down and walked towards the photo that was behind the boxes, remembering the first time I held those tiny feet. I looked at the imprints of her feet and the signature of her mom and felt her love surround me in that moment.

“I miss you too, Claire,” I whispered.

I took the photo off the wall and turned it over to remove the back covering. I took a deep breath and unhinged the metal latches, pulling it off. I removed the cardboard inside to see a thin piece of aluminum foil taped to the back. I slowly unfolded the foil, piece by piece, until a shiny coin was staring back at me. It was a coin from 1884. I replaced the backing and took the coin to my chair, marveling at it. I held the coin in my hand and then closed my hand around it, beginning to cry.

After some time, my tears started to dry, and I looked closer at the coin. I wondered, if it was worth anything… I would just be happy if it was worth something. I pulled out my prepaid phone and sent a text to Beta, asking her to come see me after class tomorrow, if she could.

Two Days Later

Alot can happen in a few days. I was still in a state of awe as I was now being presented with a check for $20,000 USD from the auction house that put my coin up for auction. Once I found out it was worth some real money, and anyone that would talk to me said I should consider putting it up for auction, I was floored. So, here I stand, being presented with a check with my daughter by my side, standing proudly. I looked over to her as she wiped her eyes, smiling.

“We're going to be alright Beta. We're going to be alright, now.”

Two Years Later

Here I stand at the orange door to the storage unit I used to live in for four long years. I take a deep breath. I wondered when I would return to visit the place that helped me find myself and sheltered me in more ways than one. I now know that me ending up here was meant to happen. The drastic changes that happened to me helped push me through and to not give up on life. I was consumed with surviving and that is what I did, pushing through it all, when I was at the very bottom in life. I opened the unit and looked around at the place I once called home. I walked around the unit, grabbing the journal and the book by KC Royale, and then left and locked the door. I could hear Cohen barking from the car, as I headed back towards him. I was very happy to have him back with us, a friend of ours had kept him for us for which we are grateful, and even more for his return.

I got in my car and started the engine. Life had changed for us in many ways in the last two years. I am the proud parent of a college graduate who started a new job in her chosen field of social work, right out of college, and I could not be prouder. Once I had gotten back home, to our new house, I began to write more of my story, in a new black Moleskine journal, which is dedicated to: My Beta.