It isn't over til...

He rolled over in bed, the sheets wrangled around his ankles and feet. He couldn't believe he had squandered it all. All his life, just wanting a little extra, and finally hitting a nice sum with a scratcher. He did good with it, before he spent any on himself. He gave some to his mom, his buds and a few relatives that did not come asking for help once they heard of his win. He kept being frustrated as to why he didn't think ahead, why he didn't save a little, not realizing eight months later that the government would come for their share.

There were only a few days before his deadline to log into the IRS website and give his beloved country their fair share. His thoughts were all over the place. Do I ask my mom for some of the money back? Does she even have it? Did I really need this 65 inch TV to replace the 55-inch one I had gotten not so long ago? He wished he had priorities set, but he was never one to do so.

He was happy that he traveled, that he took the cruise to Mexico, that he got so many things done, pre Covid. He surely did not regret paying for Johns’ funeral, who passed away in April, so soon from that disease. If only if his friend had gotten the disease later in the year, when more discoveries were made, there would have been the possibility that he could have been saved.

He finally untangled the sheets from his feet, went to the kitchen, and munched down the last package of the SpongeBob SquarePants Pop-Tarts that he had picked up from the Dollar Tree. He was going to walk, tail between his legs, to his moms and ask her for some help...but not yet.

Actively deciding to procrastinate, he went to the bathroom, turned on the shower so the water would get hot, brushed his teeth, used the toilet, flushed and went into the shower. The water felt so soothing against his skin and the aromatic eucalyptus lavender soap that he had treated himself to, although filling his senses, now seemed like a waste. He still took the time to close his eyes and breathe in the engrossing scent. Still debating with himself, whether or not he should ask his mother, he finally confronted his fear, turned the shower water off and stepped out of the tub.

His foot immediately sloshed on a sopping wet bathroom rug and it was then he realized that when he flushed the toilet it was overflowing, flooding the bathroom. Luckily the water had stopped coming out of the bowl, but it was right there at the rim. He grabbed the plunger and began plunging to get the water down, but it stayed at the same level. He used all of the force of his body along the stick and was just plunging back and forth as fast as he could, feeling like an ice fisherman trying to pick through the frozen water to get into the lake. Finally, with his most powerful plunge, there it was, the clog, a black rectangle there at the bottom of the bowl. He didn't even think twice before he stuck his hand in and pulled it out.

Shocked, he stared at it for a while It was a small black book, maybe 5 inches by 3 inches, with a clasp to seal it closed. When he opened it he saw that the pages were wet and many of them stuck together. When he was able to separate and turn the first page without ripping it, he saw that it was a ruled, notebook, almost like someone's little black book from the 1940s movies. There were no names or addresses, and he could barely read the faded writing on the page. But from what he was able to make out in the block letters, P T OF G LD R NB W. He turned to the next page for more clues, but nothing. The next page, as well, but now, these pages now were starting to tear as they were stuck to each other. By the time he turned to the 8th page, the rest of the pages were hollowed-out. In that vacant space was a folded white envelope. He removed that from the book and it was fairly thick and sealed and completely unmarked. Unsure of what was inside, but excited to find out, still standing in what felt like a swamp between his toes, he ran his finger under the envelope flap. A thousand dollar bills. No, you are reading this wrong. $1000 bills. Stacked on top of each other...20 of them. He stood there in shock, so amazingly happy, that he couldn't even smile... tears streaming down his face that he couldn't even feel because the water was still dripping out of his hair. He turned back to the first page, where he saw the block letters, and now it made sense, pot of gold rainbow. How! Who! Why!, swirled through his brain, and then relief and then, looking at the floor, good thing I bought all those towels.