Witch's Brew ~The Middle~

Witch's Brew ~The Middle~ "Taxi!"  It was starting to rain. The droplets glistening like falling stars in the light from the streetlamps. Quickly small puddles form on the dark asphalt roadway, adding their reflections to the raindrop fireflies in flight. The cab ride is uneventful, but I am sure the driver purposely veered into that puddle to spray water onto the laughing couple at the corner of First and Maple. It didn't seem to faze them, though... they only seemed to cuddle each other tighter and closer. Alone again. Jim Beam and I have become close friends. The evil electronic eye flickers in the corner, newsflashes from Viet Nam, riots and economic collapse in Argentina, corporate globalization takes its toll. The chair is not as comfortable as it once was. My self-pity is interrupted by a knock on the door. Through the fisheye I spy a young boy standing on the mat. His hair is soaking wet and dripping onto the thin single-layer jacket. "Yes, can I help you?" I ask. "Sir, I believe I have found your wallet. This is the address that was in it." He hands me the sodden leather, an artifact I had forgotten months ago. I looked inside expecting to find nothing. But, behold! There they were, my plastic Idols, tributes to my God, Mammon. And in the billfold, moist green paper money intact, like a spinach salad waiting for ranch dressing. "Thank you, son!" and I handed him the twenty, keeping only the three ones for myself. Years later I wondered what had ever become of this young man who, despite his obvious neediness, had opted to return to me my wallet without guarantee of reward, instead of just keeping it and perhaps even using the cards. "Mr. Jones?  I'm Dr. Brown. We've located a kidney donor match for you." I started up from my chair at the news. "That's fantastic, I'm on my way there." No more dialysis!  I was exuberant. When I arrived there he met me and walked me in. "I think I've met you before."  he said. "Yes!  Years ago I found your wallet, and you gave me twenty dollars as a reward for bringing it back to you!" I had found my young man again, and this time he was returning to me something more precious than all the gold that wallet could ever have held... he was returning to me the quality of my life. 12-22-2001 Written December 23rd, 2001 © on Dec 22 2001 07:51 PM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl    0 • 12