Legacy

2:48pm

Sage jumped up on the couch beside Emily, nudging his small black head into the back of her hand, which was busy typing frantically into her laptop. The blue light of the screen cast onto a weary face framed with light blonde hair. Daylight struggled to pierce the darkness of the drawn blinds, leaving a luminescent halo at the edges of the windowsill of the living room.

“Not now,” Emily sighed as she patted his head. She stretched her arms and rubbed her eyes, red from lack of sleep. Sage turned away and began slowing kneading his untrimmed claws into the black leather of her small notebook which was perched beside her on the couch.

“Oh come on! You tear up the books, rip up the papers-“ The obnoxious ring of her cellphone cut into her tirade and sent a ripple of surprise through Sage’s fur. Checking the caller ID briefly before swiping to answer the call, Emily flipped the phone to her ear.

“What’s up?” she asked casually, wrestling for her notebook.

“Hey Em! Wanna meet for coffee? I know you’re on the last push to get that proposal done and thought you might need the caffeine and the moral support.” Markus always knew how to brighten her day and she had been craving an iced coffee all afternoon.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll see you in ten.” And with that, she snapped her laptop shut, rose from the couch amid disgruntled mewls as she snatched her notebook from Sage’s grasp, and went to the hallway. Stuffing her laptop and book into her pack, she slipped on her sneakers, grabbed her keys, and left.

The low rumble of the voices in the café greeted her ears as she opened the door. She spotted Markus immediately, in their favourite section – the pair of leather armchairs.

“Oh my god,” she began, unpacking her laptop and black notebook onto the table.

“I’m sure you have some venting to do, so I got you a Venti to do it!” he joked, raising his eyebrows comically and laughing too hard at his own pun.

“That was the worst!” she laughed.

“I know you hate the puns, but I had to. It’s been like, 3 weeks since I’ve seen you, I’ve had no chance to tell them!” Emily smirked as she sipped her coffee. It wasn’t the iced coffee she had been craving, but caffeine was caffeine, and this one was free.

“Are you ready for this brain-vomit?” she asked.

“Yep! I’ve got my coffee, my cushy chair, and my listening ears on,” even when he was serious, he was silly. It was one of his most endearing features. His genuine nature was one of the reasons they’d been friends since grade school.

“Alright, this proposal for funding my research project this summer is due tomorrow, I’ve hit a snag and my supervisor is conveniently unavailable. Tuition is due on Friday, and let me remind you it’s five figures! My VISA bill is over two-thousand dollars this month because Sage decided to eat a sock; and my cheque for this month’s rent is going to bounce. I am screwed.” Emily sighed, deflating into the leather arms of the big chair.

“That’s a heavy load of financial concerns! What’s the number one priority on this list right now? The medical school research project?” Markus asked, crossing his legs.

“Yeah – I have to get this done, otherwise I am going to waste my summer and the residency directors won’t select me if I don’t have some research done. I know I’m crazy for picking such a competitive specialty, but Emergency Medicine is my dream! And if they were here, my parents would be so proud that I’m going to be a doctor. But, I’m so stressed and freaking out! Is this a mid-life crisis?” Emily gesticulated with her open palm, lifting her mug to her lips with the other.

“You’re barely into your thirties! If this is a mid-life crisis, then I am an ancient!” He teased. “Take a breath and a minute. We’ll figure this out together.”

“You’re right,” she paused mid-sip. Emily placed her mug down and rose. “Be right back,” she gestured to the washroom. Markus nodded and picked up his phone.

Emily stood in front of the mirror, staring into her own blue eyes, rimmed red and framed in newly-wrinkling skin.

“Damn,” she whispered, “I didn’t think I’d get this old this fast.” She splashed cool water onto her face. After straightening her grey jacket, she dried her hands and went to rejoin Markus.

“Heads-up seven up!” she said as she came back to find him deep in his social media doom-scroll. “Should we get out of here?” She still had pages left to write in her proposal.

“Yeah, let’s do it.” Markus clicked his phone, slipping it into his pocket as he stood.

As Emily was gathering her belongings from the table, a slip of paper fell from her black notebook. It landed face-down on the ground.

“What is this?” she stooped to fetch it.

Hello,

I overheard your conversation earlier with your friend and appreciate that you are in a dire situation. I would very much like to assist you. Please text or call me (555-555-5555).

Emily wrinkled her brow. “What the heck Markus, did you write this while I was in the washroom?” She handed the tiny piece of paper to him and watched as his eyes darted back and forth over the words.

“No, that’s weird. I’m not weird, I’m funny,” he retorted, handing the slip back. She looked at the hastily written words again. Someone must have slipped it into her book while Markus was lost in thought on his phone.

“This is super creepy, but also super intriguing. My impulsive side says let’s text it.”

“You know I’m always down for an adventure,” he replied, shrugging.

She pulled her phone from her pocket and sent a quick text to the number:

Hey, um, you left a piece of paper in my book. What do you mean ‘assist me’?

“Well, this will probably lead to nothing,” she said, slinging her bag over her shoulder and turning to leave with Markus. Her phone buzzed.

“What’d they say?” Markus pushed against the door, leading them to the parking lot. The setting sun peeked through dark grey clouds and cast a surreal glow on the mountains to the east.

“Weird,” she lifted the screen to Markus’ face.

Meet me here again, tonight at midnight. Come alone.

“Woah, whaaaat!” Markus shouted. “This is how people get ‘taken’!” He nudged her with his shoulder.

“No, I’m not going to get taken, because you’re coming with me.” She nudged him back.

“But they said you have to come alone. Should I drop you at the corner and then wait?”

“I’m down if you’re down,” Emily looked up at Markus. His brown hair glinted in the dying light of the afternoon. He squinted his brown eyes as they walked through a sunbeam.

“Okay, fine. Let’s do this,” he said, ducking into his slate grey sedan. “Come over to my house for a bit and we can head back at midnight.” Emily slipped into the passenger seat and glanced at her watch: 5:07pm.

11:37pm

Emily sat on the curb in the parking lot, empty but for a service van parked at the far end. Markus had driven past it to make sure no one was inside before dropping her off to wait. He had parked around the corner out of sight. She checked her phone – no texts. Twenty-three minutes to go, she thought. What the hell am I doing here in the middle of the night?

After what seemed like hours, shuffling footsteps disturbed the silence. Emily stood and scanned the parking lot. About twenty feet away, by the doorway to the café, she saw a figure swathed in the shadows of the awning.

“Hey!” she called out. She checked her watch again: 11:59pm. The shadow advanced and she realized it wore a wide-brimmed hat, obscuring the face. Suddenly she felt foolish. Maybe this is how people get taken. Why would I meet someone at midnight? What am I doing?

Just as she was about to turn and run back to Markus and the safety of the car, she heard the shadow speak.

“Sorry to have startled you,” the voice was low and gravelly. Markus would have called it ancient. As it neared, she realized she towered over its diminutive height, and that it belonged to an elderly woman. “And sorry for the late hour. It was the only time I had.” The woman carried a grocery bag with her.

“Were you the one who left the message in my notebook?” Emily asked as the older woman removed her hat.

“Yes, I am.” She drew gnarled fingers through thin, white hair. “Thank you for coming to meet me. Shall we sit?” The woman gestured to the café’s dining set on the patio. Emily felt a little more relaxed as the woman slowly eased herself into a chair.

“I overheard you today.” The older woman lifted her grocery bag to the table. “I want to tell you a story. Will you listen?” Her deep-set grey eyes caught the light and glinted.

“Yes, of course. I’ll listen.” Emily folded her hands into her lap.

“When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a doctor. But back then it wasn’t common for women to be doctors and I knew it would be a hard dream to follow. My family was large; one brother and four sisters! I was the second eldest. My only brother was the oldest. My father died while four of us were still children, but I had reached the age of seventeen and wanted to set out on my own. My brother, twenty-two years old, was on his way to medical school and I aimed to follow suit. But my mother, bless her soul, forbade me. As the eldest daughter, I was expected to help care for my siblings. I saw my dreams crumble and knew I was powerless to the ways of the world at the time. I dutifully helped my mother to raise my siblings and watched as my brother became a physician.” She paused to catch her breath.

“I was lucky and fell in love with a wonderful man at twenty-five and got married, but never had my own children. Not something I regret most days, but now and then I think about what could have been.” She took another pause.

“My husband died earlier this year and left me with a minor fortune. I shant have much need of it as I am a simple soul and getting on in years. But when I heard your story today, and your passion, I thought maybe I could help. Maybe there is still time for me to make a difference. Maybe, if I can’t be a doctor myself, I could help someone else who can.” The elderly woman gingerly shifted the grocery bag across the table towards Emily. A silent wind tickled the bag and it opened, revealing stacks of bills wrapped in elastic bands. Inside was a post-it note with scrawled writing tucked into one of the bundles.

For my dearest Florence - $20,000

“I can’t take this,” Emily started. She felt frozen to the chair, the gravity of the situation overwhelming her.

“You must.” The older woman said and stood.

“But, this is too much-“

“Just promise me one thing,” a gust of wind caught the white hair on the woman’s head and set it swirling before she deftly trapped it in her wide-brimmed hat. Emily’s protest caught in her throat.

“Promise me that you’ll remember my name.” The elderly woman turned away and retreated slowly into the shadows, the echo of her footsteps fading into the night.

END