The Stranger

A slam of the door and it was done.

I hadn’t the faintest idea as to what I would do now but my feet didn’t stop moving. They wouldn’t let me turn around and apologize, they would hardly let me shake out the pebble that found its way into my shoe. The stone knocked my toes and rolled down to my heel but I hardly noticed. I hardly noticed any of my surroundings. I had walked these streets so many times that I could find my way home in the pitch dark. But this time I didn’t want to remember anything. The people passing by and the buildings around me were beginning to blur from the water filling my eyes. That's how I wanted this whole thing to be remembered. Just a blur.

I could still feel his rough hands gripping my arms, slamming me against the wall and knocking over the pile of dishes that were stacked high in the sink. How was I going to explain to my mom that I quit my only source of income to hold on to my dignity? How was I going to feed my son?

When I wiped the tears from my eyes I found myself by the lake. The docks were quiet for this summer’s morning and the water was calm. Water had always placated me and I needed some place to think about what I was going to do. I took off my sneakers and climbed down the rock stairs onto the vacant dock closest to me. Once at the edge, I considered just jumping in. Instead, I sat down and rolled up my jeans to my knees and gingerly dipped my feet in. I tried to focus on the rhythmic lapping from the gentle waves on my shins. I could just slide off the dock, let myself sink to the bottom of the lake and just not come back up.

The tears came rushing out now as I tried to control my sobs. I knew I needed to do something but was at a loss.

“Miss?” an elderly voice called. I quickly looked up and saw an older woman standing behind me. I hadn’t heard the creaking of the dock when she came up to me.

“Um, yes?” I said quickly as I wiped away the tears.

“Dear, I couldn’t help but notice you out here by yourself, crying. Are you alright?”

I tried to reply but my answer of being “fine” got caught in my throat and I started to tear up again.

“Oh, my dear!” The woman carefully held out her arms. I stood and she embraced me as my sobs became full force.

“I don’t know what to do,” I squeaked. “I’m a single mom with a little boy to take care of and my parents help when they can but--”

“Shh, shh,” she consoled me. “Let’s go sit on the bench, away from the water and you tell me what’s going on.”

I nodded and we headed over to the wooden bench with iron legs a few feet away from the dock. As we sat down, the woman reached into her purse and pulled out a package of tissues which she promptly handed to me.

“Thank you,” I murmured, tearing it open and using one.

“Now then,” she patted my hand. “Tell me what’s happened.”

"Well," I began, "I was working at this small restaurant in town…"

I told the woman about how I had worked there for five years and loved my job. Seeing the regulars come in day after day always put a smile on my face, and my coworkers were nothing but nice to me. But two years ago we were sold and the new owner came into running the business with an iron fist and tight pocket. He cut corners on safety regulations and hiring to lower costs. Raises were halved and staff were let go. The new owner would come in and bully us constantly, degrading us and telling us we were worthless and couldn't get "real jobs".

"The youngest girl, Haley," I continued, "was the butt of many jokes for him and he harassed her non stop. Today I stood up for her and the owner threw me against the wall and now these bruises are forming on my arms. So I walked out…"

"Sounds like you did the right thing," the woman nodded. "It takes a lot of courage to defend someone else and then yourself."

"Perhaps," I agreed. "But now I'm stuck."

"And why is that?" she questioned.

"About two years ago," I continued, "about the same time the new owner came in, my husband and I had gotten into a large argument over his infidelity…"

I relayed to this stranger of the heartache I experienced upon finding out the information and the decision to divorce. Not soon after that choice I found out I was pregnant. I went through pregnancy alone, and moved in with my parents. Their shoulders already had burdens to carry from taking care of my disabled sister and my father couldn't work due to an injury years prior. I couldn't, and still can't, afford my bills by myself. And while my mother helped me when she could, it was a lot for her as well. She does most things around the tiny apartment they call home and as she gets older she can do less and less.

"My son is about to turn one," the tears started to come back. "How am I to afford anything? My mom can only do so much. She already watches him when I'm at work, which now…"

I trailed off and the woman placed her hand to my shoulder.

"Things will be alright," she promised me. Her light eyes held some form of affirmation and she smiled slightly.

"I know," I sighed, smiling briefly and looking at my knotted fingers. "It's the in between now and 'being alright' that I'm concerned about."

We were quiet for a moment. The wind had picked up and started churning the waves. Motor boats ran by and I closed my eyes for a second. I heard rustling and looked at the woman as she pulled a small black notebook from her purse. She opened it and scribbled quickly on a blank page in writing I couldn't decipher.

"What's your name, dear?" she asked gently.

"Penelope Canon," I stated quietly.

"Miss Canon," she began, putting the book away and pulling out a checkbook, "I believe that when we are good to others, good things will happen. The only issue is that we sometimes leave it to Fate when good things will happen. And while most times things can run smoothly enough on their own, we sometimes need to give Fate a little push. Hmm?"

"I…" I was confused. She tore out a check and folded it in half.

"My dear," she smiled at me, "you have been through so much and will go through a lot more, I’m sure. It's not much but it will help you in some ways."

"Oh, ma'am," I stuttered, "I really couldn't--"

"You can, dear," she smiled and handed me the check. "Don't open it until you have signed the back and are ready to go to the bank. Deal?"

"Deal," I nodded. "Thank you so so much!"

"You're very welcome." With that she patted my hand again and stood, turning to walk back up the stone steps and disappeared over the hill.

I stared at the small paper in my hand. The curiosity was almost unbearable. Gingerly, I unfolded the check and couldn’t control the gasp that left my mouth. The number staring back at me was unbelievable and there must have been some mistake. $20,000. I began to cry again, but this time it was because I knew that I could make things work, and that everything would be alright, all from the kindness of a stranger.