Belly

Belly and Elise walked aimlessly around Greenville Public Library. Belly thought his wife might enjoy the outing on a slow Saturday morning, but she was less inclined to the aisles of books he found interesting. Elise found herself drifting towards the windows, dragging her fingers across the dust covered tables that seemingly hadn’t been touched in years. At the end of the row, nestled into a cold corner, a little black notebook sat on a table. Looking around for the owner, Elise could only see her husband in the stacks. Picking up the book, she felt its weight in her hands, running her fingers over the smooth black face.

“Find something to read?” Belly asked, setting a few books he’d found down at the table.

“Maybe. I found this,” she said, handing him the notebook.

“This isn’t a book, Elise. This is someone’s personal property.” He turned it over in his hands, knocking the dust off the cover.

“What does it say, Belly?”

“What do you mean, what does it say? I didn’t open it.”

“You have to. How else will we know who’s it is?”

“Journals like these always have those, ‘if found return to’ pages, and I’ve never filled one out a day in my life. I doubt anyone else has. We’ll just return it to the front desk when we leave.”

“That would breach someone’s personal information.”

“No one ever writes anything important in diaries. Who knows who will read them?”

“All the great writers wrote their letters as if they’d be published someday. Who’s to say they don’t do the same with their diaries? If I had the time to keep one, I’d write as if generations to come would be trying to read my handwriting through the glass box of an archive.”

“You didn’t know I kept a diary, did you?”

“I didn’t think it was my business.”

“I keep it under your side of the mattress. Right underneath your head. I put it there every night.”

“I guess I’m supposed to go looking for it now.”

“I wouldn’t have told you if I thought you would.”

“I would if you asked me to.”

Elise ignored him, reaching for the notebook in his hands, but he pulled back.

“You’re my wife, Elise. You can tell me things. You don’t have to go in these roundabout ways to tell me what’s on your mind.”

“If anything, I was doing everything in my power to keep it from you. Lord knows you’d look everywhere but right under your nose.”

“I didn’t take you for the diary type.”

“Maybe not when you married me, but you’ve got me to thinking.”

“It’s only been a year, Elise. I don’t think you’ve changed all that much.”

“Don’t you care to know what about?”

“About what?”

“What am I thinking about, Belly?”

“How am I supposed to know that?”

“You won’t unless you ask. C’mon. Pry.”

“What’re you thinking about, Elise?”

“I’m thinking about going to your mother’s house for Easter next month. It’s only fair since we spent New Year’s with mine.”

“That can’t be it.”

“Don’t you want to see her?”

“Not necessarily, and I know that you don’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“If I know my mother is insufferable, I know you don’t want to see her. You just want her to like you, and you don’t have to worry about that because everyone likes you.”

“That’s not true.”

“Maybe if you weren’t trying so hard to get people to like you, you’d notice that they already do.”

“Are we going to read the diary or not? If not, I’m ready to go. The library is an awfully dull place to spend a Saturday afternoon.”

“I’m sorry, Elise. I didn’t mean—”

“Are you going to read it or not?”

Belly looked down at the black notebook in his fist and let his thumb glide over the pages as they flashed by. No matter how much he willed it, pictures didn’t play out at the edges of the worn pages. If he wanted to see anything of substance, he’d have to steady his eyes on the black scribbles that filled the book.

“You read it,” he said, pushing it into her hands.

“I asked you to.” Elise tossed it back at him quickly as if it burned her to touch it.

“Why won’t you just read it if it means all that much to you?”

Refusing to catch the book, Elise let it fall at her feet with a dead thud. The corner of a piece of paper peaked out of the pages. Stooping down, Elise pulled at the piece removing a crisp, blue check. She turns it over and over in her fingers, her eyes scanning quickly as she soaks in every detail. Belly paced the floor.

“How irresponsible can people be?” he mumbled. “What does it say?”

“I’m surprised you want to know.”

“Y’know what? I don’t. Just tell me the address at the top, and we can drop it off to the owner.” Belly reached for his wife to pull her to her feet, but Elise pulled away and open up the journal to the very last page.

Elise’s face dropped as she read the page, her gaze flicking back and forth from the notebook to the check and back again.

“What is it, Elise? Just tell me.”

“You read it,” she said, handing him the book and the check. Falling into the floor, Elise covered her face with her hands and laughed.

“What has gotten into you?” Belly asked, stooping down beside her. “This must be a joke? It must be. This is your journal, isn’t it? You wanted me to read it, so you kept it in your pocket until you could plant it, and now you’ve started all this fuss.”

“You give me too much credit in your theories,” Elise said, wiping the wetness from her eyes where laughter drew tears. Reaching, Elise painted her tears onto Belly’s concerned face. “Just read it for yourself.”

Belly searched her eyes, but Elise didn’t meet his. She kept her eyes trained at his lips, lightly brushing her thumb against them, willing him not to argue any further.

“Read it, Belly.”

Belly opened the journal to the very first page and sighed.

“I told you no one fills out these pages,” he said, flipping further into the notebook. “It’s all poetry. Bad poetry.”

“You just haven’t gotten to the good parts yet. Flip to the end,” Elise said, sitting up onto her knees to read alongside him.

The last page of the notebook had four short lines scribbled out onto it.

As strange as it is

and strangers we are,

my only request,

is that you don’t buy a car.

Belly looked at the check in his hands and dropped the notebook.

“$20,000? How?”

“When, where, and why? I don’t know, but I do know who.” Elise pointed to the top of the check.

“T. C. Williams.”

“This can’t be legitimate.”

“Why can’t it?”

“But what if it’s a scam? We could ruin our credibility at the bank trying to cash a bad check.”

“So, you’re thinking of keeping it?”

“What were you thinking?”

“I thought you’d fight a little harder than that. What if there’s someone who needs it more than us? What if he meant to send it in a letter to an acquaintance? Someone he’d met briefly so they’d still be considered strangers?”

“I don’t sound like that.”

“Only when you worry.”

“You’re not thinking about keeping it?”

“Only if you are.”

“It can’t be a mistake. Just look at the memo.”

The end.

Belly and Elise sat on the library floor, looking at each other, waiting for someone to come to a conclusion.

“What time do you have?”

“Quarter till eleven.”

“The bank closes at noon on Saturdays.”

“So, we’ll keep it.” The corners of Elise’s lips started towards a smile, but she didn’t want to commit too soon to the idea.

“I think we can head that way as we decide. Just to make sure we’ll have enough time.”

Elise smiled. Standing, she reached out her hands to pull up her husband.

Belly tucked the check into the final page of the little black notebook and slid it into the inner pocket of his sports coat.

When Belly and Elise pulled into the bank parking lot, the sun sat high in the middle of the sky.

“What are you thinking, Elise?”

“Well, let’s see it.”

Belly passed her the notebook. Elise pulled a cigarette and a pen out of her pocketbook. She held the cigarette between her lips without a flame, uncapped the pen, and shook the check out of the notebook. Holding the check against the dash, she wrote on it carefully and handed it back to Belly.

Belly unbuckled his seat belt before he lost the nerve.

Once inside, the clerk called them to the window before either of them could change their minds.

“Does she look nice enough not to cause a scene if this is all a dream?”

“I don’t know. I’ve never had a dream like this before, but she looks sweet.”

The clerk smiled politely. Her big brown eyes shifted between the pair as they stood silently at her desk.

“How can I help you two?”

Elise nudged Belly with her elbow, willing him forward.

“We’ve umm. We’d like to see if we could possibly make a deposit.”

“Well, I’m sure I can help you.”

Belly’s hand trembled as he handed her the check, but the clerk’s sunny disposition never faltered. Belly thought it must be her training to stay calm in the worst possible situations.

“Mr. William’s sure is a generous man.”

“You know the account?” Elise asked, holding her breath.

“I’ve seen it once before, but everyone at this bank knows about Mr. Williams.”

“You hear that. Everyone here knows about Mr. Williams,” Elise said, squeezing Belly’s arm.

“I’m afraid we do have a problem.”

Belly and Elise held their breath, bracing for the worse.

“I do need one of you to endorse the check, right here on the back.” The clerk slid the check across the desk and held out her pen.

“I can’t believe it,” Belly sighed, falling into Elise as he let out his breath.

“Pardon?” the clerk said.

“Oh, just excuse him. He’s got a weak stomach. Go on and sign the check, dear.”

Belly signed the check on the dotted line and filled out a deposit slip without fainting or falling.

“We’re all done. This should be processed by Tuesday of next week. You two enjoy the rest of your Saturday.”

Belly and Elise walked out of the bank on shaking legs and got back in the car. Picking up the little black notebook, Belly laughed.

“As hard as I try, I don’t think I’ll ever write anything in my diary that’s half as interesting as what we’ve done today.”

“Now that I know the thrill of snooping around, I may just have to read it.”

“Great. Now I’ll have to move it.”

“I won’t if you don’t want me to.”

“Oh, Belly, I don’t care. All I do is write about you.”

“Then why would you put it right under me?”

“Because I knew you’d never find it. And selfishly… I always hoped you’d dream about me.”

Taking her face in his hands, Belly kissed her tenderly.

“You know what I’ve learned today?”

“What?”

“First, always skip to the end. And most importantly, we don’t have to go back to your mother’s for Easter.”

“Now that we’ve got the means, we don’t have to go see yours either.”

“Are you suggesting we vacation on the only sabbath that truly matters?”

“Consider it a blessing.”

As Belly began to drive, Elise leaned back in her seat. She smiled to herself, staring out the window at nothing in particular.

“What are you thinking about, Elise?” Belly asked, fighting back his own smile.

“The end.”