A Penny For Your Thoughts

September 29, 1922

“Mrs. Becker, come in.”

From behind the heavy oak door of Dr. Oliver Harvey’s office, Mrs. Elaine Becker had been nervously waiting to hear the doctor’s gentle voice permit her entrance. She slowly pushed open the door and was hit with the strong aroma of old books, burnt out cigars, and freshly polished wood. The room was rather large, enough for a small family to live in, kitchen, bathroom, and all. And yet with all this room, its grand vastness was reduced to a cluttered cave, a collection of newspaper clippings, books, and empty wine bottles that littered the floor and surfaces of outdated furniture.

“Dr. Harvey?” Elaine called out timidly as she continued to survey the room.

“I’m over here, Mrs. Becker,” a young man’s calming voice responded from the faded green armchair by the fireplace.

Elaine kept her eyes on the floor, the petite, thirty-four year old woman trying hard to work her way through the maze of what was either garbage or treasured belongings of Dr. Oliver Harvey. After a seemingly long and tedious journey, Elaine finally stood face to face with the man behind the green armchair.

“Ah, Mrs. Becker, please sit down,” he directed her towards the blue and gold brocade sofa across from him.

Elaine nodded politely and sat down slowly with what little grace she had, trying hard to not appear so lowly and plain while sitting across from such a shockingly handsome intellectual. His wavy brown hair was styled back loosely, a few locks falling to the length of his stunningly high cheekbones. His crisp white shirt was complete with monogrammed gold buttons and an exquisite blue fountain pen that was neatly tucked into the front pocket. If one had the strength to avert their gaze, a simple word uttered from his mouth would bring their eyes back to him on command.

“I apologize for the condition that my office is in,” he said before taking a sip of tea from a cup of fine china. “I spend so much time here, I might as well rent out the rest of my house!” He chuckled lightly, trying to make Elaine more comfortable as he sensed her timid nature.

“No no! It’s absolutely lovely! Very cozy indeed!” The pathetic attempt to hide her thoughts was exactly that; pathetic. She felt herself almost shrinking, the green eyes of Dr. Harvey so obviously studying her as if she was some odd new specimen under a microscope.

He chuckled once more. “First I must say, Mrs. Becker, thank you so much for coming here. I know it’s not a trip around the corner. I promise I will compensate you for any transportation costs,” he said as his voice then turned more serious.

“Dr. Harvey, that won’t be necessary,” Elaine responded graciously. “You’re the one doing me such a favor. I never would be able to afford this kind of help and God only knows my son needs it,” she looked to the side with shame and worry, using the pattern of the oriental rug beneath her feet as a distraction from the tears she felt welling in her eyes.

The kind, handsome doctor looked into her soul deeply, seeing such strength, pain, and the never wavering will to take on whatever burden she must carry. “First off, Mrs. Becker, call me Oliver,” his face and voice lightening up once more. “Such formalities must be rid of in this case.”

Elaine stared at him confusedly and yet she knew her mind had surrendered to him completely. She remained silent for a few seconds, watching his fingers tap the arms of his chair softly as he waited for her to speak. “Oliver, what do we need to do?”

“First, Elaine, you must tell me how your son has changed since he found the money and the book..”

“Ma, is there anything to eat in this house?!” A young boy’s slurred words echoed throughout the Becker’s small home, causing Elaine Becker to be woken from her dreams of Dr. Oliver Harvey, the mysterious man in the faded green armchair that sat in a sea of chaos which he called an office.

“Ma, where are you?” The intoxicated boy kept bumping into walls and furniture as he made his way over to his mother’s room, taking a picture frame down or two.

Elaine jolted from her bed and hurried to him, worried that he would wake the neighbors “Marcus!” she responded with a frantic and hushed tone. “Please lower your voice!”

Eighteen year old Marcus Becker stood slouched over, one hand pressed up against the faded floral wallpaper that was present throughout most of the old house. His other hand held a small black book, one which he’s had for over three weeks since coming across it during a ferry ride home from Staten Island. What’s more surprising was what came inside the book, a $20,000 check written out to him specifically. He went to the bank that same day, praying that it wasn’t too good to be true. Alas, to his surprise, it was completely legitimate, even with its barely legible scribble of a signature. Marcus hurried home that day with a wallet full of one-hundred dollars bills, the cheap seams starting to come undone.

Elaine recalled the moment Marcus barged through the door that September afternoon, face full of joy and excitement. “I assume you landed a job today?” She smiled back at him, waiting for the words to exit his mouth. However, the words she expected were quite different from those which burst out of her son.

“Forget the job, Ma! Luck has finally come our way!” He reached into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet, accidentally dropping the black book that held the mysterious check earlier that day. “Damn it!” He quickly scrambled to grab it off the floor, his wallet slipping out of his pocket, spilling all of the cash out onto the floor as well. What Elaine thought was strange was that he only seemed to care about the book in that moment, as if it were the most important artifact the world has ever contained. Shortly after, Marcus had noticed the money littering the kitchen floor, his mother’s shocked face fixed upon it.

“Ma? Hello? Earth to Elaine!” Marcus yelled.

Elaine snapped out of her thoughts as her son’s voice filled the room once more. “When is dad coming home? He always knocks sense into ya,” Marcus pointed at her rudely. He then ran to the cupboard and starting frantically raiding it, completely oblivious to the fact that his father had passed 11 years ago.

The chaos ensued as Elaine just stood there and drowned in it once more.

“Elaine, I need you to swear to me that you will tell no one of the information I am about to disclose to you,” Dr. Harvey stared at her with a sense of interrogation as she stared back nervously.

“I promise you, Oliver,” her voice barely replied as she once more found herself across from the handsome man in the faded green armchair.

“Now, there is a perfectly good explanation for Marcus’ behavior. The excessive drinking, gambling, late night outings with women, long-term memory loss; it’s not his fault.” Dr. Harvey’s gaze remained fixed on Elaine. Her lips were slightly trembling, her brown eyes barely able to meet his. To the world she was a plain woman, a young mother living with her son in a small home on Long Island while she tirelessly worked as a seamstress. However, he found a strange beauty in her as the light of the fire gave her dark hair a flickering sheen.

Elaine watched as Dr. Harvey reached underneath his armchair and pulled out a small black book, identical to the one that Marcus clung to day and night. “Where did you get that?” she asked eagerly.

“This book is the cause of all your grief. There are only two copies in this entire world and I am bound to one for the rest of my life,” he got up to look out the window, the stars of the night sky were the city lights. “I was only thirty-one in 1822, exactly one century ago. I had finally landed a good job as a psychologist here in New York back in 1819. That year, I had a young patient, Winny Buckley, who I started treating for mild psychosis. She had a younger sister, Miriam, who was fourteen at the time. The girl was very gentle and sweet, an absolute saint when it came to dealing with her older sister’s sporadic behavior. After less than a year, the two girls and their parents moved to Massachusetts. It wasn’t til 1822 that I heard Miriam Buckley knocking on my office door again. She entered as a beautiful young woman, finely dressed, a bright smile on her face completing it.”

Elaine kept taking in every word, feeling a sliver of jealousy.

“Fast forward a few months, I was courting her for awhile. I had learned that her father left her mother, her sister had passed, and her mother was currently very ill. She told me about how a mysterious check came in the post one day and how she decided to move back to New York with her mother after realizing she could then afford to. What she never told me about was the black book that became her truest love. Over the course of a few months, her money was spent on selfish needs, her mother had passed, and she too found herself laying on a hospital bed without a single recollection of her own life. She died with that book in her hands. Two days later I found that a copy of that book on my office desk and realized what it was. Memories compiled from previous owners were written down, dates of when those memories were created and the dates they were taken away along with the reason; money. Every selfish purchase took away a memory, the higher the amount the bigger the memory. Your son is a victim to this and it will only get worse.”

Elaine took in what information she could before starting to cry. “Is there anything I can do?” Her tears hit the rug beneath her.

Dr. Harvey stood there, unable to find a way to comfort her. “Pray that he will realize his selfish ways. The pages of the book he carries are blank so he remains completely oblivious to all of this. That book is simply a lifeline to the one I carry with all the memories,” he then sat by her side and took her chin in his hand. “This is a curse, Elaine. I am the Keeper of this book and will remain so until it finds a new person to take on this burden; to be knowledgeable of such a thing and yet unable to help those who fall victim to it.”

“Enough!” Elaine got up from the couch and backed away from him, astounded and angered. She had finally realized why she was brought there.

“It’s too late, Elaine. You already know so much,” Dr. Harvey called out as Elaine ran for the door. He didn’t bother getting up or going after her. He simply left her with “And remember, don’t tell Marcus.”

When he was finally left alone in silence, he opened the book and skimmed through it until he started seeing the name “Miriam Buckley.”

“Date of purchase and memory extracted: November 21st, 1822”

“Purchase made: A pair of gold and emerald earrings bought with the money that was supposed to be for tithe”

“Memory lost: The day Oliver Harvey first said he loved her”

His tears fell onto the page, the fire from the fireplace now starting to burn out. He just sat there and waited.

October 18th, 2021

“Come in, Drew!”

A young man stood behind the heavy oak door to Dr. Elaine Becker’s office.