Ol' Smelly

Sitting on my very large, very overstuffed armchair, with knees pressed into my chest, I try to console myself by watching a classic. The bold, beautiful Scarlett proclaims, "Sir, you are no gentleman."

As though part of the scene, I inject. "Scarlett, you have no idea how lucky you are. He's there with you, isn't he? Alive and breathing, isn't he? Stranger-Danger be dammed - stupid woman." The angry, maybe jealous thoughts storm through my mind. "Stupid woman. Stupid woman."

"And you, Miss, are no lady." That's telling her Rhett. Let her have it. Put her in her place. Turn her over your knee and give her a good spanking. Stupid woman. Stupid movie. In total frustration that my bingeing on the classics is not relieving my burden, I toss the remote aside. It hits the wall, batteries rolling out of the now burst open device. Stupid remote, Stupid batteries. Just stupid.

"Stupid is as stupid does" creeps in to my mind. "Stupid is as stupid does." And easy, simple and honest truth spoken by yet another classic favorite of mine, of ours, Forrest Gump. Talking out loud as if my old classic-character friends were right there in the room with me, I retort back, "I know, Forrest, I know."

Still thinking out loud, I hear myself say, "I need to get out of this house and make some new friends. I need a new perspective. Bitterness will not win out and get the best of me. Not today." But instead of new friends, I call my closest friend and confidant, Tayla. "I'm going out. I'm going to drink some rich, dark ale and eat the biggest bar burger that I can find - maybe even topped off with cheese curds. Who's with me?"

"Scarlett, what's up? It's not like you to call in the middle of the night. It may be like you to want to poison your body with all that crap, but not in the middle of the night."

Ugh, why'd she have to blabber my name? Why did mom have to be a 'Gone With the Wind' freak? Why do I always have to be reminded that I am not her. I'm not brave like her. I'm not strong. I don't have a sassy nanny or a handsome lover. So why did Tayla have to use my name? "Ok then," I reply. "How about we meet up for a fresh bagel and a slow-drip cup of joe at the Whistle Stop ?"

"Scarlett, you like that place just because of the name. But okay. If that's what it will take to keep your liver safe, I can be there in 30."

"Thanks, Tayla - I needed a win here."

************

"Alice, what are you doing working the graveyard shift? I've never seen you here this late."

"Well, Tayla, what are you doing here in the middle of the night? I've never seen you here in the middle of the night either." At that, both roared with laughter as Alice then giggled, "and I bet you're waiting for Scarlett, again. Can that girl ever get anywhere on time?"

Standing behind Alice, Scarlett whispers, "she can hear you." The three women glance quickly at each other, laughter echoing throughout the tile clad diner built more like an oversized boot box than an eating establishment. Getting back to business, Alice said, "I love you girls to death. Now what will it be? The blueberry bagels just came up." "Alice, we'll wait for the multi-grain bagel. Less carbs that way, but we'll take a couple of your slow-drip coffees. The flavor of the day will be good." "Whatever you say Tayla. But a bagel is a bagel. They all got carbs in them." Again, laughter ensued, though briefer and less boisterous.

"Scarlett, now that we're alone, what's going on?"

"It's gone Tayla. I've looked everywhere. I don't even know what it is, to be honest. I haven't had the courage to look inside."

"How could you have lost it, Scarlett? It's the last of your family's legacy!"

"You think I don't know that? Stupid. It's stupid that you would rebuke me like that."

"You called me, remember? And it's not stupid. How could you let something that's supposed to be so valuable just - poof- disappear? It's somewhere, Scarlett. Now let's figure this out. What exactly doe sit look like?"

"Of all the property he owned, and all the investments he made, why would Pa only leave me some stupid, supposedly moleskin, little black book? It's musty as hell. It feels like something gummy and gooey soiled it, and someone tried to clean it up. It smells, too. I held on to it only because Pa left it for me. It must mean something."

"Scarlett, you'll never know unless you find it and work up the courage to open it. You know, if your parents hadn't died when you were a kid and left you in the old man's care, your mom would have inherited everything anyway. So, you'd probably still be stuck with 'ol'smelly.' Now, let's retrace your steps."

Over the next two hours, until the sun rose, setting the desert haze on fire and dissipating the cool night air, Tayla's questioning helped Scarlett retrace her steps since the memorial service three days ago.

"Why can't something amazing and miraculous happen? Like the Bible story of where Jesus rose from the grave? Why can't Pa just rise up and tell me, explain to me...?"

"Scarlett, that's not going to happen. It didn't happen then, and it's not going to happen now. You and your imagination, you and your story telling. Not everything your told is true."

"Well, a lot of things are true, Tayla, and I don't believe anything different. And quit constantly saying my name. Today, I hate that name."

"Ok, Scarlett. You said you used a tissue to pick the book up off the car seat after the lawyer handed it through the limo's window following the funeral. And you said you didn't want 'ol'smelly' in your purse. So where'd you put it?"

"I put it in the plastic bag I always carry with me for when Cosmo poops on our walks. And then I put it in my purse."

"Now we're getting somewhere. And when you got home, then what?"

"Then Cosmo needed a walk. I grabbed his leash and his poop bag."

"Was the book still in the bag?"

"I don't know, maybe. I was still numb, so I don't know if I would have noticed it or not."

"Okay, then you walked?"

"Yeah. It must have been like two miles. He took forever, but he finally pooped. Then I crossed that corn field behind Pa's, I mean, my house and went straight home."

"Okay. When you get home from Cosmo's walks, what do you typically do?"

"I throw his poop bag into the trash bin outside the garage."

"Finish your coffee, Scarlett. We're going trash trolling."

************

"This is disgusting. Don't you ever recycle? What about the planet?"

"Just keep digging, Tayla. It has to be in there."

"I just got poop on my hands, Gross, But I think I have it."

Pulling the now smellier and stickier than ever little black moleskin book from the depths of the trash can, Tayla proclaims, more like, demands, "Now Scarlett, you are going to look in this damn book!"

Both women sit on concrete blocks stacked up next to the trash can. The sun is fully up now, heating the pavement and warming their once chilled ankles and feet.

"What's that emblem on the cover, Scarlett?"

"I'm not sure, but it's probably the emblem of the Air Force. Did I ever tell you Pa used to work for the Air Force?"

************

"He was a pilot? I didn't know you could be deaf and dumb and be a pilot. So, was he a pilot?"

"No stupid, he wasn't a pilot. He was born deaf and dumb. The story I was told by some long-gone relative was that the ACE, no, the ECA, no... the AEC. That's it, AEC, Atomic Energy Commission, like back around 1955, was building some sort of resort or base or factory of some kind. Pa was working as a short order cook at the Whistle Stop. Some General or something would eat breakfast there every day. He saw Pa working and learned that he was deaf and dumb, and I think he took pity on him or something. Right then and there, Pa was offered a job cleaning up and doing odd jobs at the base. They paid him a tin of money for whatever it is that he did. That's how he made the money to invest and become so rich. That's rich... and all I got was this smelly old book."

"Open it Scarlett."

Inside the tattered cover was a hand-written message addressed to Scarlett. "My dearest Scarlett, oh how I love that name and how I love you. I have saved this treasure for the day you would be ready for it. You have the imagination, the courage and the tenacity to tell the story that lies between these pages. It will bring you recognition and great financial wealth. It will bring you handsome, wealthy suitors wanting to steal the secrets that lie between the covers of this book. Scarlett, you will know what to do. You will do what I could not do. I love you my dearest Scarlett, from here to eternity."

Wiping away her tears now cooling her cheeks from the bright desert sun, Scarlett turned the page. One page, two pages, three... in it were secrets revealed to Pa by the missionaries sent to earth, to this desert, but to do what? The book doesn't say. And from where did they come? The book doesn't say. There were formulas for medicines. There were plans for things beyond imagination. It warned of wars and detailed how to prevent them. It described how enemies can be defeated, In it were things not of this earth.

"I have to call someone. I have to share this. This can help us, help us all. But who?"

Out of nowhere, or so it seemed, a black SUV with tinted windows and flat-black rims pulled up to where the two women were sitting. Two uniformed and two black-suited men emerged form the vehicle. "Which one of you is Scarlett?"

"I am. What's this about?"

"This is for you, ma'am," handing Scarlett a plain what envelope with his white-gloved hand. "And I'll take this." The man firmly yet gently pulled the small black soiled book of secrets from her trembling hand. "You country thanks you for your cooperation."

"Wait, wait. I must at least have the note my grandfather wrote to me. It's inside the cover."

In an unusual move of compassion, the gloved man removed the handwritten note from inside the cover and handed it to Scarlett. "I suggest you have a short memory of this day." The four men re-entered the vehicle and drove away.

In bewilderment, Tayla snatched the envelope from Scarlett's hand. Inside was a receipt for a bank account at the Southern Nevada Credit Union. Scarlett's name and a hand written password were on the receipt. It said the account held a quarter of a billion dollars. One quarter of a billion dollars! "Scarlett, you're rich! You're filthy rich?"

"You have no idea." At that, Scarlett turned the handwritten note over and showed it to Tayla. It was a map of where Pa had buried the real book of secrets. The books of secrets that just may, save the world.