Wealth

The crisp air blew leaves onto the floor as Adam walked into his apartment building. He stood for a moment, wiping the outside from his jacket before closing the door, then looked at the wall of brass mailboxes. At eye level, number six glared at him. He unlocked the little square plate to find a stack of envelopes waiting, and he pushed out a long sigh as he snatched them up.

His feet marched up the concrete steps as he scanned the return addresses and large print words in bright red.

Urgent. Final Notice. Response Needed.

When he made it to the third floor, he could hear the television coming through his door. He worked the key into the deadbolt, moving it strategically so that it fit just right. He felt the lock slide over then he twisted the knob, but the door wouldn’t budge.

Dammit.

One hand on the door, the other gripping the knob, he pushed until he saw the plywood under the peephole flex inward. He stepped back and shook his head. Sam’s voice carried through from the other side.

“Back up, back up!” Adam said.

He turned his shoulder to the door and threw his weight into it, causing it to burst open with a loud creak. Sam sat on the floor looking at him, furiously wagging her tail.

“Well, come say hello.”

She leapt onto him, licking and pawing.

“One day, I won’t have to do that. Did I leave the tv on? Or was that you?”

He tossed the mail on top of the short refrigerator beside the couch and grabbed a bottle of light-colored beer from inside, then sank low into the cushions. Sam jumped up beside him and lay her head in his lap.

“What are we watching, public access? Sorry girl, guess I could have left it on Animal Planet.”

Adam dug for the remote in the cracks of the couch, finding it next to something wet but simultaneously crusty. He smacked the back of it with his palm until the red bulb blinked. Channels flashed as he scanned quickly with his thumb.

“Not much on right now.”

Sam thumped her tail.

“The GOP lead senate resumed today, marking the fifteenth…”

“No.”

“A dangerous virus that has been spreading through China could reach the United States…”

“No.”

“Local authorities believe there is another victim in the series of disappearances that began three months ago. Tim Wagner is live from police headquarters.”

The bottle cap popped and he took a long drink.

“Four adults are now listed as missing persons. Detectives believe this is no coincidence, as there appears to be a pattern; white, age forty to sixty, and wealthy. The newest person is William Robertson, age fifty-two, a resident of the Chamberlain Park subdivision. He was last seen on October twenty-sixth. Other names include…”

Adam stood and walked to the little window that looked out in front of the building. Below him, a hooded figure pushed a shopping cart along the sidewalk littered with broken bottles and bits of clothing and discarded toys. There were always toys. Across the street, a concrete wall supported a black iron fence that ran the length of several blocks. Pristine shrubs and trees dotted the manicured grass behind the fence, and every house was three stories with a four-car garage.

“Wonder if it’s any of them.”

Sam went to his side, fogging up the lower panes as she peered out.

“Authorities are asking anyone with information to call detective Wilkes at 61…”

Adam watched the afternoon sun warm the leaves of the nice trees and roofs of the nice houses across the street. He set the beer down beside the couch and grabbed Sam’s leash.

“Let’s get out of here.”

Sam watched cars from the passenger window of Adam’s two-door sedan as they took the highway south toward Lambey national park. The parking lot was deserted when they arrived. Adam leashed Sam and they began the gravel trail.

“We’ll take one of the short hikes. We don’t have enough time to go all the way around.”

The path wound through the dense forest of shedding trees, some already completely naked, standing dark against the mountains behind them. Adam tried to focus on the beauty of his surroundings, but he couldn’t let go of work. The miserable grocery that paid next to nothing. That groveling Dennis who made assistant manager. Where was his college degree? It might not be business administration, but art history wasn’t nothing. The store wasn’t a career. He’d find something better, something to get him out of that dump.

Ahead, the ground began to climb. The worn soles of Adam’s shoes slipped against the gnarled roots crossing the trail that acted as little steps guiding them into the foothills. Sam’s ears shot back and her nose went to the dirt. When they made it to level ground, she jerked on the leash, pulling him clumsily forward.

“Sam! Chill!”

She pulled him off the gravel and into the trees on the right, where the land sloped into a steep ditch of moss and limestone. The leash snapped and Adam tripped face first into the floor of brown leaves as she bolted down the hill.

“Dammit Sam!”

As he pushed himself up, something cold and hard pressed into his hand. He gripped it and stood, rubbing the black earth away. It was a watch, silver with a striking blue face and a little gold crown above the word,

Rolex.

His eyes felt glued to it, as if the world around him didn’t exist. The air stood still, and for a moment, there were no bills, or debt, or dead-end job.

Sam barked in the distance and he blinked. He stuffed the watch in his pocket and ran towards her. When he reached the bottom, she stood on a small boulder, going wild at something below.

It was glossy and black and shoved under a jumble of twigs. As he stepped closer, he noticed the yellow drawstrings and realized it was a trash bag. But something was sticking out of it. Brown hair, matted and wet poked through the opening.

“Sam.”

A faint ringing began in his ears and his stomach turned. She continued to bark, paying him no attention.

“Sam!”

She stopped and looked at him, her legs shaking.

“Sam, come here.”

Reluctantly she jumped down and came to him. He tied the leash in a knot around her collar and took another step towards the bag.

“I don’t want to look in there, girl. I really don’t.”

He rubbed the smooth metal of the watch in his pocket. A dead animal, maybe, he told himself. People dump their pets all the time. It could easily be roadkill, or maybe a hunter tossed it.

He didn’t believe any of those things. There was no accident stuffed in that bag. It was intentional. Premeditated…

But he would not look. He would not subject himself to nightmares for the rest of his life, if he hadn’t already. Best to assume and nothing more. But, someone needs to know about this.

Faint voices were coming up the hill behind them.

“Come on, we don’t need to be seen down here.”

He crouched low as they hurried through the ditch, stopping every so often to make sure no one was following. Once on the trail, he broke into a run until they reached the car.

Speeding to the apartment, his arms felt like jelly as they gripped the steering wheel. Part of him wanted to be pulled over so he could get it out. But another part wanted to never say anything.

Once home, he went straight to his refrigerator and got two beers. He chugged the first one, pacing back and forth, then pulled his cell phone out and scrolled through his contacts.

Mom. Not now.

Dad. No.

He thumbed the screen until Megan’s name appeared. It rang three times, then he hung up and set the phone on the coffee table. Sam lay on the couch with her head between her paws, watching him. The second bottle hissed open and the cap fell on the floor.

The watch was heavy in his hand as he looked at it under the light of the floor lamp. There were white circles instead of numbers with gold trim around the borders. Everything about it shimmered. He looked at the back. Blank, no engraving or stamp. It would have been easy to turn it in to the police if there was something to distinguish it. But anyone could claim it.

“Sam, do you think this belongs to…” His stomach lurched as the words came out and he sat down on the couch. He turned the volume up on the tv.

“The Dow Jones is…”

”Tonight, what’s really in your child’s school lunch…”

“Asbestos removal continues at the TriStar nursing home..”

The screen clicked off and he dropped the remote on the floor. He set the watch on the coffee table next to his phone.

“What do you think, girl?”

She kept her head down and looked into his eyes.

“It was probably nothing. I think stress has me thinking crazy things”

He gulped the last of his second beer and leaned to grab another from the refrigerator. As the day rotated in his mind, his eyelids began to droop.

“I think tomorrow I’m going to turn in the watch.” The half-empty bottle was lukewarm between his thighs when he lay his head on the arm of the couch and fell asleep.

Inside the pawnshop, fluorescent bulbs hummed in the quiet morning. A balding man leaned on a glass display case, studying the watch through a jeweler’s loop. Adam had the collar of his coat turned up and his hands in the pockets, pulling it tightly around him.

“What do you want for it?” asked the man.

“What’ll you give?”

“Best I can do is six.”

“Hundred?”

“Thousand.”

Adam’s chest thumped out of rhythm and he bit his bottom lip.

“Six thousand is fine.”

The man set the watch in a case and walked to the cash register.

“My dad gave it to me, but I just don’t wear it.” Adam said.

The man looked at him as though he didn’t believe him, or didn’t care. He thumbed a stack of one hundred dollar bills on the counter and told Adam he was going to get the rest from the back. Adam eyed a rack of hunting rifles and shotguns, then noticed a dark green electric guitar hanging on the wall. He walked over and took it down. The pick guard was a shimmering black like obsidian and the neck was a beautiful maple. A white tag hung from the head stock that read $500.

The man walked back to the register and counted the rest of the money.

“I’m going to get this.” Adam said. He looked around at the floor where the amplifiers sat and pointed at one that was waist high.

“And this.”

At his apartment, Adam counted what he had left on the coffee table.

“I can’t believe it, girl. Look at this. That’s a down payment on a new place. And new clothes. And whatever else we can think of. That’s a new car. Well, new to us.”

Sam peeked at him from the floor and whined.

“Don’t give me that. This is breathing room. You know some cop would have just taken it.”

Sam laid her head down and stared at the tv.

“We won’t starve, not for a while.”

Three weeks later, Adam stood at his window and tore the letter open. He unfolded the single page and read the words twice before speaking them.

“Mr. Adam Williams, this letter is to inform you that your position at Gaw’s Grocery is terminated, effective immediately. Reasons for this decision are as follows; Excessive absenteeism, poor performance, demeanor not becoming of a…”

He crumpled the paper and threw it on the floor.

“What do they know? I don’t need them.”

Sam walked over and sat beside him. He picked his wallet from his back pocket and opened it. A pair of twenties and a few ten-dollar bills looked up and he closed it.

He stared at the trees across the street for a few moments and then flopped on his new couch. His hand pressed the buttons on the side. The seat began to recline and vibrate while the back warmed up. He grabbed the remote from the cup holder and turned on the flat screen tv.

The channels flashed rapidly until he reached the news.

“Are millennials to blame for rising butter prices? We’ll find out…”

“What do a bowling ball, Red Lobster, and a pregnant hyena have in common? Tune in this evening…”

“Our top story tonight involves another disappearance. Rebecca Porter, age forty-seven, was reported missing two days ago by her husband Frank Porter. This comes just three weeks after the previous report on William Robertson. She was last seen…”

“Another one? For once, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to be rich.”

He leaned over and opened the little refrigerator, but decided not to get another beer. Sam sat on the floor next to his feet.

“I need to clear my head. How ‘bout it?” She let out a long breath that shook her jowls.

Adam looked at the gray clouds as clumsy drops of rain struck their heads. The smell of earth wafted around in the new damp and Sam’s ears perked. Nothing moved in the parking lot except for the leaves.

He was in no hurry, so long as it didn’t flood. They walked the same path as before. When they reached the first hill, he veered off the trail, pulling Sam against her will. He scanned the ravine for anything out of place. He thought he could see remnants of the trash bag, but it wasn’t as before. There was no mass to it, no hair. No anything. It looked like it had been ripped apart and its contents carried away. Or consumed by an animal. A wave of relief washed over him.

Sam struggled against the leash, whining to get back to the trail. He allowed her to lead and followed precariously behind her. The collar choked as she pulled hard, wheezing with every breath.

“Sam! What’s gotten into you?”

They sprinted until the path forked in opposite directions. She led them right and downhill. Further and further they walked until the sound of rushing water was close. Her head almost touching the ground, she steered from the gravel into the woods. A river flowed not far in front of them and she pulled him to the bank. When she stopped, he bent over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath.

Leaves rustled and crunched as she dug with her nose. When he looked up, Sam had stopped and now stood in front of him with something small and dark in her mouth. She set it at his feet.

Picking it up, he saw that it was a glove. The fingers were lean, feminine and made of purple velvet with bits of fur on the wrist. Frozen dirt was caked in the fabric and it felt full like something was stuffed inside. He held a fingertip, shaking gently a few times, then snapped it hard until a pale object fell out.

There was no denying what was in front of him. The hand, or what was left of it, lay with its palm facing up. At first he felt paralyzed, then found himself reaching for the glove. Using it as a barrier, he grabbed the hand and brought it to his face. The upper half of every finger was missing, but the thumb remained intact. Two gold bands clung to the stubby middle and ring finger. He turned them over to see sparkling white gems, large and small, set in each of them.

As if they had a mind of their own, his fingers plucked the rings and stuffed them in his pockets, then he set the hand on the ground.

Sam’s barking brought him back. She sniffed it, recoiling at first, then nipped wildly.

“Leave it alone!”

He tried to pull her away, but it was too late. She clenched the hand in her jaws, shaking it like a fresh kill.

“Sam, drop it!”

He stepped closer and tried to grab it. She stopped, her eyes slanted down at his feet, and let out a low growl. He kneeled slowly.

“Sam. Drop. It. Now.”

The leash tightened as she backed towards the river. Tugging in fierce spurts, she pulled him until her back paws were in the water.

“If you fall in, I’m not going after you.”

Sam stopped, looking Adam in the eyes. The hand dripped with saliva. He shot an arm out, but before he could reach it, she jerked and threw it into the river. It bobbed in the rapids like some pale, desperate fish until it floated far from the embankment and sank.

Sam’s ears lowered as she got out of the water.

“Unbelievable, Sam. We could have called someone to look at it, and, I don’t know, search for the rest of her, or him. Whoever that belonged to.” She trudged past him without looking up.

The trip back to the car felt like the longest walk of Adam’s life. She slept the whole way to the apartment while he muttered in the front seat.

“And that growling business, that better not happen again.”

The diamond winked with light in the little glass loop. Adam stood with his hands in his pockets, looking at the new guns on the gun rack and the new guitars on the wall.

“Three carats. Both of them” the balding man said. “I’ll give you ten apiece”.

“Ten thousand?”

“Ten thousand.”

Adam nodded, his pupils large as saucers. “That’s fine.” he said.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” said the balding man as he disappeared through a curtain. Behind Adam, a bell tinkled and he turned his head to see a police officer walk through the iron-barred door. Adam faced the display cases, his hands beginning to shake. The officer stood directly behind him. Visions of handcuffs and jail cells and nightly news anchors filled his head and he began to sweat. A thick finger tapped his shoulder and his heart dropped into his stomach. He turned around to see the towering man glaring at him.

“Anyone helped you yet?” said the officer.

The words came out of Adam like a skittish cat, “H-he said h-he’d be right b-back.”

The officer nodded and looked around.

A moment later, the balding man came back to the counter.

“Be with you in a minute Ed” he said to the officer. Every bill felt like a prison sentence as they were stacked on the counter.

Later that morning, he counted the money two, three, and four times to make sure it was real. Sam was on her stomach, facing the wall under the window.

“This is it, Sam. This is our new start. A new life. No more slaving for someone else. Time to be my own boss. First thing tomorrow, we’re going to the bank. I’m going to open an account and get a loan.”

Sam closed her eyes.

Adam tapped his fingers on his leg as the man in the suit behind the desk squinted at the computer.

“I wish I could make it work, Mr. Williams, but five thousand dollars isn’t enough collateral for a small business loan.”

“It’s almost six.”

“Yes. Well, the bank requires a minimum of fifteen thousand or property equivalent.”

Adam thought about his new car, but he had barely owned it two weeks. “I’ll figure something out.” he said.

“Come back when you do.”

Snow drifted outside his window as he paced the floor. Sam hid underneath the coffee table.

“How did this happen? The car was what, twelve thousand? The watch wasn’t cheap. I only went to dinner six, seven times? And the phone. I guess it adds up.”

Sam groaned as she rolled on her side.

“I’ve got to find a way to make it work. Ten thousand, that’s all we need. Not even that much.”

Blue lights flashed into the living room. He walked to the window and saw on the other side of the street, where the nice trees were bare and charred against the blanket of white, several police cars and a news van. He sprinted for the remote. It was the first thing that popped onto the television.

“We’re here live at the house of Alex Donaldson, who has likely become the eighth victim in a series of disappearances. Police have stated they believe these are likely homicides. Captain James Kelly said in a …”

“Sam, let’s go for a walk.”

In the forest, the wind hurled chunks of ice and the trails were hidden by snow. Adam stomped along the powdery ground, leading a reluctant Sam as they guessed their way. The lowering sun was barely a flicker behind the clouds.

West, he thought, we’re always headed west whenever we find something.

“This way, girl.”

They walked down a long slope that stopped at a frozen stream. He tested the surface with a shoe, then jumped onto it. Sam’s ears perked and she looked behind her, but saw nothing. Adam searched the distance where the water appeared to drop off, then tugged at the leash and continued.

“Maybe a waterfall.”

When they reached the end, Adam looked down a drop that was almost as tall as him. The dying stream trickled into nothing more than a slow drip from the icicles that hung over the side. Below, a thin string of motionless water twisted through a bed of rocks that continued downhill. Sam pushed her nose to the ground and moved her head back and forth.

“I think we can get down over here.”

Adam pulled her to the right where the land mellowed out to the bottom. She resisted, digging her paws into the snow. She was still on the little hill when he reached the rocks, whimpering and tugging with all of her might to escape. The leash snapped where the knot was tied and she ran full speed in the direction they came.

“That’s it! I’m not chasing you anymore! If you’re at the car when I’m done, fine. But if not, so be it!”

Sam’s bark echoed around him. After a few seconds, there was silence.

He didn’t notice it at first because it blended into the hill, but on his second glance at his surroundings, he saw the opening just behind the hanging shards of ice. He stepped cautiously as he approached.

The hole was barely large enough, but after he squeezed between the rocks, he stepped into a wide, circular cavern. A smell hit him hard, like rotting fruit mixed with something he couldn’t place. It wasn’t warm, but it wasn’t as cold as the outside. He brought his phone out and turned on the flashlight.

Immediately he saw them. At least a dozen. Some were propped against the walls, others laying down. Large, black trash bags. He knew fear should be gripping him, but it was exactly what he had searched for. He pulled his shirt over his nose and began. There were watches, rings, necklaces, all encrusted with jewels. Some of the men even had their wallets. It was more than he ever believed he could find.

As he opened the last bag, a noise came from behind him. Without looking, he said over his shoulder, “Well well, I see you’ve decided to come back.”

Low, almost a whisper, a voice said,

“Indeed, I have.”