The Wallet

The Wallet1

I stopped dead in my tracks. I looked down at my worn sneakers and near my feet I saw it: the wallet that ruined my life. I think back to the events of the day as I sit here tied up. It feels like it was years ago, except my life changed instantly within the past few hours. I remember picking up the wallet and continuing my jog through Huntington Park, the essential part of my daily routine. I got home around eight this morning, and threw my keys and the wallet on my dining room table as I walked to the bathroom. I showered and left for work, and it was only as I stepped into my psychiatric clinic that I realized I forgot the wallet at my house. It bothered me that I would be so absent-minded about something so important. 2

I went through my day as usual; I listened to clients complain about their lives, yet all I could think about was the wallet and to whom it could be for. I realized I had not even taken a minute to check who the owner was, or what the wallet contained. 3

As I locked the front door to my clinic, I buttoned my jacket. The chill, autumn wind froze my lips and the tip of my nose as I walked in the dark to get to my car. I drove home quickly, going ten over the speed limit. I surprised myself when my foot hit peddle and did not release. I got home twenty minutes early, and changed into more comfortable clothing as I sat on my bed with the wallet in my hands. I felt a pang of guilt for my prying into a stranger’s personal information; however, I was curious as to which kind of person would drop their wallet and not notice. 4

The wallet contained the usual: identification cards, credit cards, two library cards, and a few business cards. The wallet belonged to a photogenic man in his late twenties, by the name of Jonathon Waverly. He lived in the neighboring town, Summit Heights. Despite its name, it is statistically a middle class town, with each household averaging about $50,000 annually. That is when I stumbled upon something shocking, found in one of the pockets of the wallet. I pulled out the stack of freshly5

withdrawn hundred dollar bills and began to count. Thirty fresh Franklin's! I could not believe my eyes. Somebody had lost $3,000! Why did Mr. Waverly not retrace his steps? 6

I set the wallet to the side as I dozed off. It felt as if I had slept for hours; however, when I awoke to the sound of thunder, my clock read 10:00 PM. My dreams consisted of flashing images of Jonathon Waverly's driver's license photo and the three grand. I was not going to get any sleep, so I put on my sneakers and a jacket, grabbed the wallet and my keys, and head out the front door. I remembered to pick up my umbrella because it had been pouring rain. 7

8808 Wagner Road, Summit Heights, Colorado. Despite the thunderstorm, I drove fast to locate that address before it was too late into the night. I drove by the Welcome to Summit Heights sign and continued driving down the abandoned residential roads. It took nearly ten minutes to figure out how to reach my destination, but I did it. I sure was proud of myself at that moment. I parked across the street from his home and pulled out my cell. I looked through his wallet once more, searching for a phone number. Bingo! I found a number with his name near it. I pressed in the numbers and the ringing filled my ear. I waited, and after seven rings I was about to hang up; but then I heard someone answer, although no one spoke. Then I heard a man's voice. It was rather shaky, yet it did not sound as if I had woken him from his sleep. I figured he was upset about losing three thousand dollars, along with all his important information. 8

A smile appeared on my face when I realized I would be the bearer of good news. 9

"Hello?" I spoke into the phone.10

"Yes, yes. How may I help you?" answered a male's voice.11

"My name is Dr. Miranda Lorelei. Is this Mr. Jonathon Waverly?" I asked, hesitantly.12

Before I could hear his reply, I heard some odd commotion in the background. What was that? It sounded like more people in the background. That's when I heard it.13

It was spoken as a harsh whisper, not meant to be heard by me, but those words were the most terrifying words I have ever heard. "Don't you dare tell her anything or I'll pull the trigger!"14

Mr. Waverly returned to his cell to respond to my question. "Yes, yes it is. What do you want?"15

By then, I was too terrified, too concerned to continue the conversation. I hung up immediately and put my keys into the ignition; I was getting the hell out of there. I planned on giving the wallet to the cops, they could handle it. It's their job to deal with psychos after all. But wait, isn't that my job too? My conscience knew Mr. Waverly was in trouble, but was I willing to risk my life to help a stranger? Aside from my family clinic, I'm a criminal psychiatrist. I should know how to handle these kinds of people. My head snaps to the left when I hear a knock on my car window. 16

Oh God! At first I didn't see it, but then it was clear. A large man wearing a black coat and slacks was pointing a gun at me. The keys were in the ignition, but I forgot to start it! At that point, I wanted to kick myself in the shins for being so lost in thought that I could not handle a simple step. By then, it was too late to escape. I knew from experience how fast a bullet can travel. I put my hands up, and the stranger opened the door and pulled me out of my seat by my hair. 17

"Hey! Easy there!" I screamed at him. 18

He either was incapable of hearing my screams, or he was just enjoying the misery I was facing. He dragged me into Jonathon's house and threw me onto the floor. That's when my head accidentally slammed into the corner of the coffee table. I was knocked unconscious. I woke up no longer than five minutes ago, but I realized I had been tied up while I was knocked out. As I sit in the chair with my hands tied behind my back, everything that happened in my day came rushing back to me in detail. 19

I twist my wrists as my eyes adjust to the harsh lighting in this living room. I assume that the man tied up near me is Jonathon Waverly, and that the man standing over him is the same one who tied me up. 20

"So, where's the money? You had three weeks to come up with three grand. Now, I know that isn't hard to do for a man like you. So, again, where is it?" The intruder asked Jonathon harshly. 21

"I don't know where it is!" Jonathon screamed, "I swear! I had it with me today! I lost the money, I lost everything! I swear to you, I had the money!" 22

I open my mouth to speak, but I realize how dry it is. "I have the money. That's why I came here today. I found your wallet, sir. I wanted to give it to you because I assumed the money was needed for something important. Nobody just carries three grand with them."23

That is when I saw Jonathon Waverly's face light up with a smile, as if I just saved his life. I, on the other hand was no where near as happy he was. I felt dismal. Everything I hear from my clients is now happening to me.24

"Oh, so you have the money?" The intruder asks me.25

"Yes, I do."26

"Oh, wonderful. However, it seems I no longer need you," he says to Jonathon, with a smile on his face.27

That is when Jonathon's own smile is wiped off his face with a single bullet to the forehead. All I hear in the room is the ringing of the shot in my ears, and my screams filling the damp atmosphere. 28

"So where is the money?"29

"It's in the car. Everything of mine is in the car…"30

"…Damn it. I'll be right back. Sit tight, sweetheart," he says as he walks out of the house, slamming the door shut and locking it behind him.31

I sit there for a while and stare at Jonathon's dead body. Poor Jonathon. I begin to wonder why he owed his reaper $3,000. I snap back into reality and try to figure out a way out of here. I twist my wrists, but I feel the tight rope cutting into my wrists. I glance at Jonathon once more and realize I do not want to end up like him. I ignore the stinging pain in my wrists and slide one wrist out of the ropes. I accidentally let out a scream of pain, but I remind myself to remain quiet. I run to the door and stand behind it, waiting for the intruder to reenter Jonathon's tomb.32

While waiting, I kneel over and lift up the leg of my pants and pull out my .22 MM from around my ankle, where I've kept it every day for the past ten years. A good friend of mine who happens to be a police officer advised me to carry one around at all times due to my occupation. I am forever grateful at this moment because I'm armed against the man who killed Jonathon, and who probably planned on killing me. 33

I hear footsteps coming up to the front door and I position myself to shoot. The intruder slams the door open screaming, "You liar! Where is the money?"34

I'm taken aback by his question, but I fire my gun for the very first time. I hear a gunshot in my ear, but I look at my gun at it looks clean. There's no smoke or dust coming out of the barrel. I look up at the intruder and I see him standing there. He stares at me and collapses to the floor beneath my feet. I stand there confused, unaware of what happened. It all seemed to go by so fast. That is when I look outside and see a police officer standing with a gun in his hands, his finger on the trigger. 35

I put two and two together and figure out where the gunshot came from. I nearly collapse to the floor in relief when I suddenly recognize the police officer. 36

I run outside the front door screaming, "Carl! I can't believe it's you! Oh, thank God it's you! I thought I had to shoot him! I was about to kill him! Somebody's dead! I was tied up! Three thousand, there's three thousand dollars!" I was being incoherent, trying to summarize my nights in one sentence, but by the look on Carl's face, it was clear that I was making no sense. 37

He wrapped his arms around me and led me to an ambulance where they checked my wrists for any severe damage, and when they found none, bandaged it up and let me go. Carl said he would contact me later for a statement for his report on what happened, because I was in no state of making one tonight. 38

As I walk back to my car, I replay the intruder's last words. What did he mean there was no money? How could he not find it? I reach my car and try to put the key into the lock, however my hands are too shaky and I drop the keys to the ground. I get on my knees to search for them in the dark, and my hand touches something thick and wide. I was certain that was not my keys. I lift the object up to the light and see that it is the wallet; the wallet that made me witness to a murder; the wallet that made me victim to a crime; the wallet that still has three thousand dollars in it. 39

It must have fallen out of my lap as I struggled with the intruder while he pulled me out of my car! There is no other way that the wallet could have fallen to the ground without him noticing. I take the wallet and find my keys and get into my car. I sit there for a moment staring at it, opening it up to look at Jonathon Waverly's picture one last time. I look into the pocket and there they are the thirty one-hundred dollar bills. I vowed to spend them on Mr. Waverly's funeral, and planned to discuss this idea with Carl tomorrow morning. 40

I put my car into drive and began my journey back into my familiar territory. I felt different, I felt as if I had absorbed a valuable experience. However, I am upset it had to be over someone’s death. I tossed the wallet into my purse. This has become a part of me, something that I will carry with me throughout my life. For tonight, however, I'll go to bed and not think of what happened. 41

I get home, and as I'm falling asleep tonight, the many stories of my patients flood back to me, and a burst of sympathy goes out to them. I have now experienced the horrifying moment that I hear about daily; but unlike my patients, I will not have this consume me. I will fight it and be strong; yet, I feel no matter how hard I fight I will always remember tonight. I am Dr. Miranda Lorelei, and tonight, a stranger changed my life forever.42

© Yasir Aburouman, All rights reserved43


Author Comment: I wrote this for Ms. Diamond's class. I've, yet again, posted stuff on my sister's account for some feedback! Honest comments please! Thank you! Y.A.