EVERYONE HAS A STORY (APRIL 4, 2013)
8 a.m.
The alarm has been going off for about 30 minutes.
She refuses to get out of bed to go to work.
She knows when she gets there, her boss will ask her about the money.
The 50 bucks that went missing from the register.
The 50 bucks she “borrowed” to pay the gas and electric bill.
The 50 bucks she cleverly snuck out between customers nonchalantly buying clothes worth hundreds of dollars, manufactured for a lot less.
Or maybe....
Maybe her boss would not notice.
Maybe no one will double check the cash register balance sheet she forged.
Maybe no one will really care.
I mean, its 50 bucks.
Thats a lot to her. But to a company that makes that much money in a minutes time...
Shouldn't be a big deal, right?
No.
They'd still fire her.
But at least she'd have some electricity and heat for the rest of the month
Time to get up. To shower. To change. To eat. To get in the car.
She didn't have the kids this week. Normally her teenage son and daughter would be loaded into the back like zombies heading to the school they dreaded going to.
They were at their dad's, getting dropped off by that girl of his.
The one thats partly responsible for the mess that she has suddenly been thrust into.
She pulls out of the driveway of the appartment complex, no seatbelt on, with only one reverse tail light working, and heads down the road to a stop sign. As she approaches the stop sign in her 1988 Toyota Camry, on its last leg since 1998, another car stops across the intersection. At the exact same time.
A brand new BMW M6.
Fresh. Clean.
Inside, a middle aged man, dressed to the nines. He waits to see if the Camry is going to go first. He is a patient man. An honest man.
Polite.
A throwback to when gentleman roamed the earth.
He drove the speed limit to get to that intersection. He always makes sure to have a seatbelt on, a working turn signal on when needed, and polished rims when necessary.
You would think, today was a typical day for him. Nothing really different about how he approached the stop sign, how he drove that day, or how he pulled out of his garage.
He smiled and waved to the neighbor as he left the house. He fed and played with his dogs before getting into the car.
He woke up on time with his alarm, bright and early. 6:30 a.m.
He did his usual morning routine. He showered. Changed into his work clothes. Stopped by the local coffee spot for a coffee and a breakfast bagel sandwhich.
He said hi to the barista. He chatted it up with the friendly elderly man who was always with a newspaper sitting in front of the coffee shop.
An unchanged routine for years
His morning, nothing different than any other morning.
At least that what he hoped everyone would believe.
He hoped his employees wouldn't ask.
He was glad his morning acquaintances didn't ask.
He knew his close friends knew.
He knew some of his coworkers knew.
He took a few days off.
But he was driving back to work today for the first time since then.
And he did not want questions. He just wanted things to go back to normal.
He wanted to get into his office chair, catch up on the work his secretary has been saving for him, and get on with life.
He did not want to forget. But he did not want to dwell.
He just wanted a version of normalcy that one could possible muster after this.
After a death.
After the death of his youngest son.
