Levi

Levi Wallace sat in furniture with an unwarranted ease and grace. He never entered a room that didn’t miss him when he left or moved past a doorway that didn’t resent him for not entering. An air of loyalty followed Levi throughout his life and this was by some considered to be his greatest gift. Levi had a strange calmness to him. He wasn’t strange by nature, it was simply strange to others how absolutely and infinitely cool he was.

As a child, Levi was a confusing presence for his parents. Jacob and Leah Wallace were simple people with simple needs. They did not want for much, therefore the gift that Levi was born with went unnoticed and unnurtured. This was not for a lack of love or attention - his parents were simply ill-equipped to handle a gift as precious as their son would turn out to be.

Levi was born on a cold December day in the suburbs of Philadelphia. Although a petty thought rarely crossed Levi’s mind, he did sometimes get upset that his parents (when their debts caught up with them) would combine birthday and holiday gifts all in one. Later in his life, this was the kind of thought that crept from the recesses of Levi’s mind and made him lose sleep. Levi, like his parents, would never want for anything - but not for quite the same reasons.

He could explain the day from memory, if he needed to, though nobody would ever ask. Levi had just finished his final semester at the Community College of Philadelphia (his grades could have earned him an honorable scholarship at the University of Penn, but Levi decided against it, opting to spend his time amongst those he felt most connected to - the common and, sometimes, underprivileged). The people who judged him for this were the ones Levi pitied the most. They would also be the ones who were ultimately responsible for the demise of Levi Wallace.

April 16th was a Friday. The sun filled the city streets with a warmth that was much needed for its motoring residents. Many did not notice, but Levi recognized a wry smile in the typically downtrodden homeless man who had staked his claim on the corner of 16th and Spring Garden for the two years Levi spent at school. He put a crumpled 5 dollar bill in the man’s weathered cup, said “God bless you” and continued his walk.

He did not own a car and this walk was sometimes the highlight of his day, as Levi preferred to exist amongst the masses, embracing his diminutive size compared to the vast and expansive buildings that stood in one place for centuries. He stared at a flock of birds congregating on a wire and admired their silent communication. Was there a leader amongst them? He thought not.

All seemed normal upon Levi’s arrival to his apartment building. Mrs. Laskoski sat at a table by the front door, smoking what was probably the start of her second pack of cigarettes, and said lovingly “A package for you my dear Levi!”.

He hadn’t remembered ordering anything, but responded warmly “Thanks Mrs. L!”

He put the small key into his mail slot, turned it, and a box immediately tumbled out. He noticed right away that there was no return address.

His name was scribed on the package using calligraphy that he hadn’t seen since he was a child. His grandfather (on his mothers side) had passed almost a year ago, but had pressed him in his youth to take up the ancient art form. Levi would practice and was sometimes not too bad, but it never quite stuck. One thing that did stick, however, was Levi’s unadulterated excitement for gifts.

He ran up his steps, skipping one and sometimes two stair treads, until he reached his door. He had a feeling this was something special, and when this feeling struck Levi he was rarely mistaken. After fumbling with his keys and throwing the door open, he pushed eagerly into his kitchen and found a pair of rusted scissors (he would frequently put his utensils in the dishwasher- convenient, but not great for those cheap “stainless” steel products). He cut open the box and within it found a letter sitting gracefully on top of a little black book. He opened the letter and recognized his grandfather's handwriting.

It read: “Levi. Whatever amount of money you write in this book will be yours. Be cautious and remember, money doesn’t just grow on trees.”

Levi closed the letter and stared at the book. Under different circumstances, he would have been filled with doubt. He felt none. He didn’t know why, but he believed his grandfather. He took a pen from his bag that lay on the floor next to him and opened the notebook. What was the appropriate amount? He thought about it, unlocked his phone to check the current balance of his student loans... Then he wrote $20,000.00 on the first page.

It is known amongst the elite, and by the elite only, that once per generation a man from a family with a long and powerful lineage inherits a notebook that gives them access to their funds. The history as to why this occurs has mostly been lost, but the myth of an agreement between ancient lords and peasants remains, and is sometimes floated when too many drinks have been consumed and fear of judgement is lost. For the inheritor of the notebook, the withdrawals usually start out as small, inconsequential amounts and grow as they become more confident. There are often accountants hired specifically to look for these discrepancies, and their payroll can sometimes run higher than what will ever even be taken from the chosen family. That is how much these people look forward to this rite of passage and the story that comes with it. They look forward to the hunt because there are no rules except one. The family who inherits the notebook can never be revealed.

It took Levi 5 years to be found.. And the delightful vengeance came swiftly.

Five Years Later

Levi laid comfortably in bed listening to crickets and snapping branches under the feet of the nocturnal beasts of the forest. The crackle of a fire made him reminisce on the days where he would play videos of such a thing just to fall asleep. A gentle breeze caressed his cheek from the open window of his cottage as his wife Rebecca lay asleep to his left. He stared with a loving hopefulness at the protrusion beneath the sheets coming from her belly area. Soon he would be a father.

There were hundreds now who shared this land with him and Rebecca. Hundreds of shunned and outcast individuals, forced to sleep in the streets until Levi came to redeem them. This was not easy or without fault, on many days there had been more departures than arrivals and the logistics of moving people out to the country was a nightmare. It had been less than a year since electricity and water was implemented, and since then there had been thousands of applications for residency. Many would call this community a cult and question Levi’s intentions, but he didn’t care. If you wanted an opportunity to live again with no judgment, Levi would pay your way. He had a seemingly endless supply of money to do so. Nobody thought to question this because in Levi’s community there WAS such a thing as a free lunch, and for these people, that sort of thing didn’t need to be second guessed. But there were those who took notice.. and on this night it wasn’t the creatures of the forest who would break twigs beneath their feet.

They watched from the woods, their breath clouding the air like the smoke that billowed from Levi’s chimney.

Levi got up from bed and accepted that sleep would escape him tonight. He walked to the sink to pour a glass of water, then pulled a book from the shelf and sat in his favorite reading chair. He turned to the dog-eared page, marking where he left off from the night prior, and sighed with great comfort. He looked and felt cool in this chair. It’s good that he was comfortable, because this would be his final resting place.

The three men in the woods were professionals and didn’t ask questions. They were ready and willing to do their job. As they crept in, none of them wondered why it was they did what they did. It was easier if you learned to take emotion out of it, but there was no ignoring their resentment for the people of this town, why did they deserve what they didn’t work for?

They crept quietly like field mice avoiding prey, but with the intentions of wolves hunting their own. As they opened the door, Levi didn’t hear a thing.

Levi turned to the next page as one of the men crept in, leaving the other two outside to take watch. For no reason in particular, Levi reached into his pocket to pull out the little black book gifted by his grandfather. He palmed it and flipped through the pages in a reminiscent fashion.

“Good, won't have to look for that” thought the silent assassin.

Levi felt a terrible sense of dread, but not because a man stood directly behind him with deadly intentions, but because he remembered what his grandfather had written to him at the end of his note. He still kept it tucked away inside the black book.

“Money doesn’t just grow on trees.”.

This would be the final thought of Levi Wallace.

One day, the same thought might cross the mind of his unborn grandson.

One day, someone would harness the power of this book and remain undiscovered.

That day was not today.

Fin