The Not So Empty Seat

After days of gloom the sun was shining and all I wanted to do was sit on the porch and watch the world go by. But here I was stepping foot, once again, on the bus for the short trip into the city for a meeting. My usual seat was free and I grumped toward it.

The long overdue sunshine must have been too much for my cubicle mate Jeri as her usual spot behind me was empty. That enticing orb shone brightly, warming my “pleather "seat and exposing a small colorfully woven overgrown wallet. Looking around I saw no one who appeared to be looking for it. Seeing no one outside, waving down the driver to retrieve the pouch, I plopped down and scooped it up. A myriad of scenarios galloped through my mind. Truly hoping for a driver’s license and maybe even a cell phone I untied the blue string that secured the contents. While looking over my shoulder for the owner I held my breath. My heart skipped a beat, maybe stopped momentarily, as I stared briefly at banded bundles of cash. Snapping it shut, I frantically looked around. Whew! No one was gawking over my shoulder or even vaguely interested in what was going on in this row of seats. Retying the blue string I jittered as stop by stop passed by. Knowing my stop was next, weak kneed, I tried to stand. A moment passed before I was able to safely step into the aisle and to launch myself toward the back door, trying still to catch my breath.

How much cash was in there? Who had left such an important bundle and what caused it to be left behind? What was the money intended for? Head still spinning I remembered seeing what looked like a small spiral from a memo sized notebook. Still hoping for personal information I raced for the office, to the bathroom for some privacy to explore the anxiety inducing contents. Breathe! Ten rubber banded bundles. Breathe! Licking finger tips I furiously counted the bills in a yellow banded stack. 100 twenty dollar bills. What? Breathe. $2000.00. Breathe! The green banded – same, the blue banded – same. One by one, each packet shouted out $2000.00. Breathe. How could I be holding a treasure of $20,000 dollars?

With one eye tightly squenched shut I opened the cover of little black book. Breathe; please have a name! The first page only was populated by a vaguely familiar scrawl. At least that was something. One sentence left the page startling blank. It looked like a Google search:

How much Morphine is lethal for a small healthy mid-life woman

Not a topic one wants to leave a trace about in their internet search history. These days, forensic people can find anything. Now what? Deep breath. The meeting would be starting in 5 minutes. Coworkers would be hovering around the coffee and donuts. If I was lucky I’d slide into the back row unnoticed, free from conversation about yesterday’s big game. A huddled mass at the end of my targeted row turned out to be Jeri. I forgot that she was the host of the day so she’d come into town on one of the earlier trips.

“How’d your team make out yesterday?”, I asked nervously while trying to act like a human bored with yet again another Monday morning meeting. A face streaked with mascara met mine. “What – oh my- what….” I trailed off as Jeri dabbed at her eyes trying to pull herself together. Shaking her head, she slowly looked at me again, sobbing subsiding and puffy eyes suddenly turned bright. Daring to smile, she stammered and pointed at my colorful burden.

“Oh my God!” she shuddered. “It can’t be…I thought it was gone…. forever.” Jeri pointed and opened her hands. Wordlessly I handed it over.

“I’ll explain everything after the meeting”, she beamed as she pushed her precious packet back into my arms. “For safe keeping!”

With time enough to make a dash for the ladies room to freshen up, Jeri dodged the donut eaters to reappear shortly looking calm, collected, and beaming she introduced the first of the pharmaceutical reps slated for this month’s meeting.

Not really hearing the sales pitch for the newest trial medicine attempting to slow down the progression of Alzheimer’s disease, I remembered a conversation Jeri and I had a month or so ago. Tearfully then too, she went into detail about her 50 something mother and her waning fight with early on-set Alzheimer’s. It quickly became clear that today had been her chance of meeting the right person, with understanding of the awful dreadful life this disease dump on a person and their family. Someone who is well aware of the loss and what could be done to honor the person that their beloved had been.

As soon as she thanked the reps, Jeri threw me a quick glance and an elbow nudge and relieved me of my burden. I glimpsed a heartfelt handshake the Jeri disappeared down the hall with what might be her would be savior.

The fleeting thought of a new car in my future left as quickly as it had come into my muddled consciousness as I turned my face to the ceiling and smiled…the biggest, yet saddest – for Jeri’s family and most thankful smile of my life.