The Friend I Never Knew

The sun was just starting to come up as I turned into the parking lot of the factory. The radio hosts were chatting about how it was going to be another beautiful summer day. I parked in the same spot I had every day. I sat listening to the radio DJ’s talking as the newest hit song started to play. Turning it up, I take a sip of coffee and open my book.

Every day, I look forward to my morning routine. I show up early, I drink my coffee and I read. When the time comes for me to head in, I grab my book and lunch box, lock the car and head inside. I can’t say I enjoy my job, but it pays alright for around here and it’s tolerable. I have been doing this for 5 years now, which is a little after my wife had left. I have always lived a boring life. Boring is the reason my wife had used when she told me she was leaving me. She said that she needed excitement and adventure, and that I needed slow and stable. I would rather read a book and live inside my head than with her she had said. She was right, of course.

Heading inside the plant, I place my items in my locker. The name, “Nickolas” on my locker is faded now. I remember when I first started working here and the HR lady with the thick glasses placed it there. I never told her she had misspelt it. I assumed eventually someone would notice that it’s supposed to be spelt “Nicholas”, but as the months and years passed, it became clear that either no one noticed, or no one cared enough to fix it; and I supposed I didn’t care enough either.

I know I wasn’t expecting much walking into work today, I mean, I never expect much anymore but nothing could have prepared me for it. Walking from the locker room, I walked into the break room to punch in. Our plant isn’t the most technologically advanced, so you actually physically put a piece of paper in the machine and get it time stamped. However, today, when I walked into the break room, I knew something was off.

In the front of the room, my supervisor was talking with a tall man in a suit. Everyone was seated around the table sipping what smelt like burnt coffee out of cheap Styrofoam cups. There was a quiet in the room, an awkward kind of silence. Everyone looked sad. I sat down next to a woman named Betty, who I had worked with for a few years. Thinking this was a weird way of celebrating my years of service, I leaned over to her and jokingly said, “Who died?” The blood drained from her face as her eyes went wide as she mumbled “Josh”.

Still feeling like I was just punched in the stomach, I notice my supervisor walking towards me. She leaned down and whispered for me to go to her office. I took the last swig of the burnt coffee finishing my cup, I tossed it into the bin as I followed her and the man with the suit down the hall and into her office.

...

Two days later, I was sitting in my car. The sun overhead was hot, and it was even hotter inside the car. I had just stepped out of the office of the mystery man I had seen in the breakroom of the plant. He, as it turns out, is a lawyer and his name is Earl. He was Josh’s lawyer.

I had followed them into her office. He had asked my boss to speak with me privately, and he gave her a look. She sighed and seemed upset, but then again, she was probably upset that she wouldn’t have anything to gossip about later.

The lawyer had closed the door and sat down next to me. He asked me how I knew Josh. I told him that we had worked together but I really didn’t know him well. I mean, we had the occasional beer but for the most part, we only really knew each other at work. Even at work, we wouldn’t talk much. The factory is very loud, but we pretty much stood next together working for 5 years.

“He left you everything”, said Earl. “Everything?”, I asked, more shocked than anything. How could he leave me everything?

Earl looked down to his hands. I could tell he was uncomfortable, or maybe simply confused. He explained to me how Josh did not have any family, and that I was the closest thing to a friend that he had. I almost threw up I felt so guilty. How could a guy I barely spoke to acknowledge me as a friend? I barely recognized my own existence, let alone to be there for someone else.

“You’re going to need a good lawyer and an accountant”, said Earl, “If you don’t know any, I’ll be happy to recommend some people for you”. “Why would I need that? I mean, we worked the same job and started about the same time.” An image of my bank account came to mind, and I felt sorry. Sorry for him, and sorry for me. I was still financially recovering from a few years ago. I know that after bills, there isn’t much left over. He cut me off. “Look man, this is life changing money. You won’t need to work if you are wise with it, not to mention the house he left you.” I was stunned. I never could have imagined this. I mean, I knew him, and I saw him, I just couldn’t imagine he had much.

A drop of sweat dripped down my face and I realized I was still parked outside the office. I looked at a set of keys in the cupholder and a post-it with an address. I punched the address into the GPS and started driving.

...

A rooster tail of dust is behind me as I drive down this dirt road. Arm out the window, feeling the warm hot air flow by. I’m deep in thought about the events of the last few days when I am interrupted. “Your destination is on the left, you have arrived” said a female voice from my phone. My heart skips a beat as I pulled into the only driveway on the road. The gravel driveway crunching beneath the tires as I follow the curve of the driveway up a small hill. Suddenly, I see the house as I come over the hill.

I choked on my coffee. Choked so hard I thought I was going to pass out. I stopped the car, threw it in Park and kicked my door open. I stood starring, still coughing but unable to look away. In front of me was a beautiful house. I don’t know why, but I was expecting a rundown trailer home. “This house does not belong in this town”, I thought. I reached back inside the car and turned it off. I grabbed the keys from the cupholder and slowly walked the rest of the way to the house, with every step the realization getting heavier.

Making it to the front door, I hesitate. It feels wrong, but this house is the nicest in our little town and my excitement overwhelms me. As I open the door, I am greeted by a bright and richly decorated house. I step into the foyer and take my shoes off. Perhaps out of awe, or maybe out of respect.

There are many rooms in the house. I entered only one that day. It was the library. Surrounded by walls of books was a chair and lamp, along with a desk. I sit down at the desk and open the top drawer. Inside, I find a single, simple little black notebook. I carefully open the cover and am surprised when I see my name on the first page. “Nicholas” it says on the first page.

I flip the page; “You suffer what you choose - so choose wisely”. The next rest of the pages are blank, but a folded letter falls in my lap. It reads;

“To Nicholas, my dearest and only friend,

I am sure you are wondering why I left it all for you. I have no intention of dying Nicholas, but when I do, then it is only fair I leave it all to you.

How I came into this money is not important, but I promise you that I made it legally, and fairly. I worked extremely hard for it, and as a result, I lost everything because of it. I had no family, and no friends, other than you. I was so afraid of people using me, hurting me, that I isolated myself from the world. As time went on, I became afraid of the world.

I saw you at a bookstore once. It was a Saturday morning, and you were at the checkout. I was behind you in line, but you did not notice me. I saw your card got declined. I saw you empty the few dollars you had in your wallet to purchase it. I wondered, “What book is so important you would give your last dollar in order to get it?”

On that Monday, the people on our shift surprised me with a little birthday cake, and a card. I received one gift that day, and that was from you. When I unwrapped it, I recognized it. It was the book you had bought. The generosity of that act, still to this day astounds me. Do you remember what you had written inside the cover?

“A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies. The man who never reads lives only one.” -George R.R. Martin

After that, I started to live in my books and through them. I suspect you do too. I missed out on my life, but I want you to experience it. Not just in books, but out there, beyond the covers exists a real world, full of beauty, hope and love.

What happened after my birthday, though, is the endless possibilities I could live through pages of a book. That one book started what you see around you today. You showed me that, through books I could be or do anything I was too afraid of to do. My world exploded! I was buying every book I could get my hands on and devouring them just as quickly!

I have lived hundreds and perhaps even thousands of beautiful, wonderful lives. I have lived lives of every kind; from adventures to love and hope. I suddenly had an urge, an obsession with living life, every ounce through pages and pages. I never knew what fulfilment I was able to receive through the pages of printed ink. You opened me up to that world.

My dear friend, I wanted to thank you for the journey you have started me on, and I want you to finish it. Upon my passing, I want to do for you, what you have done for me. I will give you every dollar, and I want you to use it to live, but not just through covers and pages, but through the very real, frightening, wonderful and beautiful world.

I want you to live a thousand lives, a thousand adventures and experiences. Travel and love, read and write, eat and taste, see and smell, and experience everything that this big, horrifying and beautiful world can offer. Be the writer, not a reader.

“The world is a book and those who do not travel read only one page.” – St Augustine

Yours truly, sincerely, and eternally grateful,

Josh M.