Whom the gods wish to protect

“Whom the gods wish to destroy, they first call promising”- Cyril Connolly

He had the right idea.

I could not get this phrase out of my mind that day as I walked home amidst a snowstorm after getting fired.

I was thinking about all the times my parents bragged at family gatherings about the “Bright Future” I had ahead of me. I was thinking about all the times my friends told me not to forget them when I became a “Big-Shot”. I was thinking about all the times my teachers talked about the “Promising Potential” I had.

What I couldn’t think of, and believe me I tried, was the last time I smiled.

For the past five years, I was doing a job I despised, for people who despised me. Although I was just doing it for the money, it really left me mortified when I was sat down and told that my services were no longer needed.

"We are going in a different direction."

They were not going in a different direction. I could tell you why I was fired, but that’s not what this is about. This is about what happened after that.

As I said, I was walking home amidst a snowstorm. I actually like walking in snowstorms. Don’t ask me why because I don’t know. To give you some context, I’ll tell you a little secret, but don’t tell anyone else...I wasn’t going home. I was, to put it in the most delicate way, going into the woods to end it all.

I didn’t. And thank god that I didn’t. This is the story about why I didn’t

I had a little something in my bag that I was going to take once I got to my spot in the woods. I don’t know if you can tell, but being fired wasn’t the catalyst of this over-reaction. It was anxiety and depression. I mean, there’s a reason I already had something in my bag. It didn’t just appear out of nowhere. I didn’t want to take it. No one ever does. There are always plenty of signs. You never know who is going through it. And it is totally awful having to go through it. It could be your best friend, your mom or dad, it could be your brother or sister, it could be your girlfriend. If you see or hear of anyone going through depression, just go and talk to them, listen patiently, and don’t criticize. Don’t tell them jokes to make them laugh. Don’t tell them “it’ll be ok” or “just hang on” because it only makes them feel more separated from the rest. Just listen instead of talking.

I’ve really gone off-topic, sorry about that.

Anyways, I was walking towards the spot. Amidst the snowstorm. I was deep into the pristine beauty of the woods, and then, I saw a little man carrying a duffle bag running amok towards me. Oh boy, it’s about to start. He wasn’t that small; he was like 5’4 in my opinion. But the way he ran, I could tell, something fishy was up.

“Hey!” he yelled at me from a distance

“Hey” I replied back. Within a few zeptoseconds, I kid you not, the man was in front of me. His eyes were blood-red, his face yellow with horror.

“I do not have a lot of time. I need your help. Will you help me? I will give you $10,000 if you do.” he said frantically.

I was totally dumbstruck. I processed new information pretty slowly back then. I mean, I was depressed, remember? But this situation called for the quick wits of Captain Jack Sparrow.

He looked at my dumb silent face and said,” Okay, $20,000”

He then presented a little black book, showed me an address written on the first page, he turned around, opened his duffle bag, put the book in, quickly did a rough count, and handed me $20,000.

“I need you to go to that address and drop off this bag, knock on the door and run away. I will forever be in your gratitude.” He then ran away as fast as he came towards.

As I stood out there in the middle of a snowstorm with a duffle bag and $20,000 in my hands, I heard a loud angry man’s voice coming from the woods. “Carl! Carl! come out here, Right Now!” he yelled. I ran faster than I ever have.

Oh! I should mention, my name isn’t Carl. It was the little man’s name.

Anyways, I ran out of the woods. I don’t think anyone saw me, and the snowstorm made sure I didn’t leave any footprints.

“What the hell just happened?” I said to myself.

I put the money into my pocket and walked for another half hour and got into the town again. I went to the empty bus station, sat down on a really cold metal bench, and tried to make sense of everything.

I couldn’t.

I decided to open the duffle bag to see what was in there. It was money. A lot of money. Like, a lot of money. Not that I can tell the amount of money just by looking at it, but there was at least half a million, maybe more in there. That was more money than I had ever seen at once. Naturally, I felt an inclination to go home, book a ticket, run away from the town, and start over. I was pretty damn close to doing it as well. But then I stopped. And then I decided to do it again. I debated about what I should do. It was clear. I should do it. I mean, first of all, this much cash couldn’t have come from an honest run business. Secondly, it seemed like that guy had done something really wrong to someone really dangerous.

I couldn’t think of a valid reason as to why I should drop it off at that address in that little book.

I had forgotten the address so I opened the book again and saw the address. And the rest was empty. But at the end of that notebook, there was a Letter. It was written by Carl; addressed to his wife.

Now, I won’t tell you what the Letter said because it was very private, but I will give you the gist of it.

It began with an explanation of the situation. After reading, I could tell Carl was innocent. He then explained where the money came from. It came from an honest source. He wrote a few lines for his baby girl to read when she came of age. They were enough to make Hitler cry. He then instructed them to leave town immediately.

He was an innocent, honest man who got caught up in some shady business through no fault of his own. I couldn’t stop thinking about his wife and daughter, and how they will feel when they read this note. The man worked his whole life to save this money to pay for his daughter’s college and for his retirement. I began wondering, "He might not get a chance to see his daughter grow up". "He might not see his wife ever again". I wondered what his last conversation with them must have been. "Did he get to tell them how much he loves them?" "Will they believe that he is innocent when they read his letter?" "Will his daughter remember him when she grows up?" "Will she know who her Dad is?"

And then for some reason, I don’t know why, I really don’t, I started thinking about Mom and Dad.

I started remembering those days when Dad would surprise me with Ice Cream and when Mom would make my favorite pasta for dinner because I had a bad day. When Mom and Dad took a day off of work to come to see me at my school play. Parents weren’t even invited; they just came in to see me. I started sobbing sitting at that empty bus stop. The five years I had just spent hadn’t been easy. Not easy at all. I just wanted to hug my Mom and Dad and then go to sleep in my old room. I wanted Mom and Dad to kiss my forehead and say goodnight and then I’d sleep without a worry in the world.

But I guess that’s not what being an adult is about.

Anyways, I was still sitting in the bus station with half a million dollars in front of me. It feels weird when you have that much money in front of you, yet you are not happy. I had heard that sometimes money really can’t make you happy, but I guess you don’t understand it until you experience it.

I decided to drop it off to Carl’s family.

I put it in front of their door, knocked, and then ran away to hide on the side of the house so no one could see me. I then heard the door opening, and the voice of a little girl, maybe 3-4 years old. She was shrieking with excitement as she said “Mommy, Mommy”. I began to walk away, and as I did, I felt a warm feeling in my chest, and out of nowhere, a smile came on my face. I couldn’t stop smiling and believe me, I tried. I guess I felt happy because I knew Carl's family will be okay now or something else, I don't know, I really don't.

As I walked away, I took out the pills in my bag and threw them in the trash can on the side of the road. It felt...It felt really good.

I then prayed for Carl’s life and his family’s happiness when I got home.

This was all two years ago. I now work in a local animal shelter. Did I ever mention how much I love animals by the way?

After that day, I started doing therapy. It wasn’t instant, but gradually, my behavior began to improve. I have made new friends, I have a girlfriend now, well, I don’t know if we are there yet, let’s just say I have someone really special in my life.

I couldn’t live with myself, not knowing what happened to Carl, so a month after the incident, I went to his house, knocked on his door, prayed to god one more time that it was him who answered...and god listened. He opened it, didn’t recognize me. I wasn’t surprised, we had met for one minute during a snowstorm when he was running for his life. I told him who I was, and he hugged me and invited me in. He then told me the whole story, Oh man, what a thrill ride. Anyways, I had dinner with the Millers that day. I still visit their house sometimes.

I still go to therapy; I feel really good every time I go.

It was my Therapist’s idea actually to start writing about these things. And I did enjoy writing in this little black book. Oh! forgot to tell you, I put the $20,000 back in the bag, left the letter in there too, but I took this black book with me that night. It felt like I should. It really did.