The Green Cigar Box

The Green Cigar Box

Steve was woken up by the smack of a little black notebook across his face.

He winced.

“We’re gonna be LATE!”

Vision becoming less blurry, he was now able to sit up and focus on Shannon standing at his bedside, one hand on her hip and the other getting ready to smack him again.

“Get up!”

Steve smiled, swung his legs off the bed and threw on a new pair of jeans. He’d grown accustomed to running errands while sockless, and today would be no different. Sliding bare feet into grey loafers he was ready to go in under a minute. Coat on, mask on, and most importantly, knitted toque on, to cover the unkempt mop of hair on his head.

He rubbed at his jaw, making sure Shannon took notice.

“What do you write in that little black notebook, anyway?”

Shannon beamed at him, dressed similarly but probably wearing socks, he thought.

“Lists!”

“Lists, eh? What kind of lists?”

“Ain’t tellin’. Just lists. Stuff I want to put in order.”

Steve smirked and left it at that, knowing he wouldn’t be able to wring any more answers about her book, beyond that one. He twirled his car keys around his finger.

“So. Where to, again?”

“Value Village. Well, Starbucks first. Then Value Village.”

She raced down the hall to the elevator and pressed the blue “down” button, as he slid the key in to lock their condo door. Didn’t take him long to meet her by the elevators.

They glanced at a sign that was posted throughout the building.

KEEP YOUR DISTANCE OF 6 FEET – ONLY TWO PERSONS PER ELEVATOR AT ANY TIME – WEAR A MASK

“Only two to an elevator…. let’s see how long it takes today. Also…. late for what, exactly?”

“Late for coffee”, Shannon replied, stifling a yawn.

Ever the early bird, he thought, and he couldn’t help but smile. These lazy weekend mornings were perfect.

The middle elevator was first to arrive but waiting inside was a gruff old man who made no effort to close the door.

He glanced up briefly before turning his gaze downward again, and the door slowly slid across on its’ own, to end the encounter.

“Everyone in here is like that now, have you noticed?”

“Yep. Nobody talks anymore! ‘Specially not on this floor.”

Steve nodded, as he’d noticed the same thing over the past year. To be fair though, he usually kept to himself anyway and usually didn’t exchange more than basic pleasantries.

Maybe that was contagious too, he thought.

The elevator on the left swung open, and it was gloriously empty. The two rode down to P1 and Shannon was once again first to dart down the hall and towards the car.

They made their way to Starbucks, engaged in some cordial smalltalk with the barista, and were soon pulling into the Value Village parking lot.

Steve bristled at the gust of cold wind smacking him the face as he got out of the car, and started walking towards the store while sliding his hands in his coat pocket. He clicked the “lock” on his keyfob, hearing the familiar honk from his red car behind him.

Then he did it again, out of habit.

The Value Village door slid open and Steve looked around. Fairly busy for a Saturday morning, only a little after 10.

He strolled over to the housewares, perusing through corningware with bizarre patterns from the 70s.

He felt a poke at his shoulder and turned to see Shannon, her brow furrowed under her fuzzy red hat.

“What’d you do?”, he asked.

“That lady over there, see her?”

Steve looked over Shannon’s slight left shoulder and spotted a petite old woman making her way to the exit.

“Ok? What am I looking at here?”

“It’s weird, I was over there at the jewelry case and she just puts her hand on my shoulder.”

Steve’s jaw dropped behind his mask, eyes wide in mock outrage.

“What? No social distancing? The horror! Did she say anything?”

“Yeah, that’s what I don’t get. She goes, ‘look in the green cigar box’, and then she walked away. Didn’t say anything else.”

Now it was Steve’s turn to furrow his brows. Green cigar box?

They looked around until they found the aisle with old knickknacks, lamps, key racks and the like.

Then he spotted it. A dusty old cigar box on the bottom shelf, with what looked like an old man’s face in a green leafy pattern on the lid.

He picked up the box and opened the lid, and nearly dropped it immediately.

The box was stuffed with hundred dollar bills.

Steve looked at Shannon whose blue eyes were as big as saucers. He glanced around and saw that they were alone in the aisle, before gingerly removing the wad of cash and stuffing it in his deep jacket pocket.

He could hear Shannon faintly whisper “what?!”, as neither of them could comprehend what they’d just uncovered.

They hastily bought the cigar box and made their way to the car, trying their best to maintain composure. Steve opened Shannon’s passenger door, handed her the box and then walked around to the driver’s side – and nearly collapsed when he saw the note that had been taped to his window.

The yellowed slip of paper had a smiley face scrawled on it, in what looked like blue pen. Beneath the face, in hastily-scribbled block letters, Steve read the message:

ENJOY IT