The International Language

Yesterday, I was out on the deck cooking bacon on the Weber grill. It leaves the mess outside and the bacon cooks up great. It just so happens that the next door neighbors were getting a new roof. The roofers, all Mexicans, were hard at work next door when I clearly heard one of them say, “Smell the bacon”. Often the crew has only one worker who speaks fluent English. Funny thing is that I’ll bet they all knew the smell of bacon and understood those words.

     I laughed out loud and thought most guys, no matter where they are from recognize the smell of bacon. It made me think that some phrases or words are simply understood on an international level. Obviously guys around the world understand the word ‘bacon’. It’s a connective word that brings men together. 

     So what other words have the same reaction. Another word that I suspect would have the same reaction is ‘beer’. Most men will understand the phrase “Hold my beer” and know what will follow that statement. I’m sure there are more of these common phrases but these I believe are the two strongest contenders. 

     It’s interesting that we are connected by these common words, but disconnected in many others ways. Maybe we should concentrate on the simple pleasures of life. “Just Saying . . . “

     

The Key - Final Part

Since it was Saturday, I slept in the next morning. We had no plans. Well, that’s what I

thought, but my wife had other ideas. 

“Hurry up and shower. We’ll get breakfast on the way.”

“Where are we going?”

“It’s my second wish. To find you a hobby.”

“I have a hobby, watching sports.”

“That’s not a hobby. It’s an addiction.” She waved her finger. “Something without a

sportscaster giving play-by-play reports.”

“Sounds like you need a hobby.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll find you something.”

“But I am worried.”

We drove around all day investigating hobbies that could become my passion.

Woodworking, 3D printing, engraving, photography and painting were just a few and of those

I was leaning toward woodworking, but I’d grown fond of my fingers. We stopped for a late 

lunch at a wine bar and cafe. We ordered and chatted as we waited for our food. A guy with a

guitar walked in and sat down in the front. He started playing a few tunes, old stuff, what I call

good music.

I said to my wife’ “Let’s stop at a music store. I think I might want to try out a guitar.”

“That sounds like a wonderful idea. You can learn to play, and I’ll sing.”

“Hold on Kelly Clarkson. Don’t get ahead of yourself. I’m just checking them out.”

“I know, I know, finish your sandwich so we can go.”

I finished quickly and we drove to Music City Guitar. Terry was all about the shape

and the curves of the guitar, while I asked a lot of questions. The salesman played well and

answered all of my concerns. He was patient as I tried half a dozen guitars. He explained the

differences in the acoustic and electric guitars, while I caressed their smooth lines, sniffed the

polished mahogany. These guitars were truly pieces of art that could be displayed like a Picasso.

That’s when I decided this was what I wanted to do in my spare time, but now I just needed to

choose a guitar. 

“What do you think?” I asked Terry, but I really didn’t need her opinion because I

decided I wanted a mid-priced one, not too expensive but not cheap. I ended up spending $800,

but my guitar sounded great, and it was comfortable almost familiar to hold and most 

importantly a beautiful instrument, which made Terry happy. The salesman threw in some song

books and told me about in-house lessons at Music City and the online lessons available on 

YouTube.

I spent the rest of the night playing my guitar. Calling it playing might be a stretch, but

I’m sticking with those words. Two wishes down, one to go.

* * * 

“My third wish is for my mom. She lives alone and I know she gets lonely.” Terry took

the car keys off the hook. “I think she needs a companion. A dog or a cat might be the perfect

choice.” 

“That’s a good idea, but they require a lot of patience and time to train and care for

them.” I suggested to my wife. “What about a young adult dog that has been potty trained instead

of a puppy. Sometimes pet stores have dogs that have been returned, because they were a wrong

fit for the person. These stores will re-home the dogs with a new owner.” 

Terry thought that was a reasonable idea. So, with that in mind we went pet shopping.

We stopped at four pet shops, two had pets they re-homed, but the dogs they had were too large.

We didn’t want to get an animal that would knock her down when playing or pull her arms out of 

the sockets when she walked it.

On our way to the Humane Society, we stopped to get an ice cream and discuss what we

were going to do. I explained that getting a dog or cat today wasn’t absolutely necessary as long

as we narrow it down to what kind of animal would be compatible with her personality. 

“Well, she’s kind of snarky.” 

“Yes, kinda like you.” I laughed. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

Terry frowned. “Yes, but I’m funny snarky.”

“Yes dear, you’re hysterical.”

The Humane Society was only few blocks from the ice cream shop. We parked and

walked to the entrance. Terry was hopeful we’d find a pet there. We spent the last few days

fulfilling my wife’s wish list, and I was ready to get back to my new hobby. 

Thankfully, they had two dogs and one cat that fit our requirements. All the animals here

could be adopted. I roamed around looking at the animals while Terry played with a 

terrier.  I noticed an animal that you rarely see up for adoption. It was a parrot, so I asked about

it. There was a sign on the cage with the name, Billy Bob.  I thought that was an odd name, but

it made me chuckle. I said, “Good morning, Billy Bob.” And to my surprise he had an unusual

answer.

“Squawk, take me home I’m a used parrot.”

I laughed. One of the employees was standing nearby so I asked him about Billy Bob.

“Is this parrot up for re-homing?”

            “Those terms don’t really apply to Billy Bob since this is the fourth time this parrot has

been placed with a family so we’re calling him used.” The worker straightened the sign on the

parrot’s cage. “But, yes he is available to take home.”

“Wow, four times. Is there a problem with this parrot?”

He tapped on the cage. “This bird is a highly intelligent, an independent thinker and has a

large vocabulary. He is the only parrot we have, an African Grey. We rarely have any because

they are expensive, and most people pass them down to their children.” He gave the bird some

nuts. “But to answer your question. All animals need care and some like a racehorse require

special care, but the rewards you receive far outweigh any effort you make.”

“Hmm! That’s interesting. Can he hold a conversation with someone?”

The worker said, “Oh! Yes. This bird will talk your ear off.”

“Is Billy Bob a clean bird?”

“Yes, he is normally, unless he’s upset.”

“I’m going to talk to my wife, I’ll be right back. Don’t give him to anyone.”

Not much chance of that. He said under his breath then smiled. “Certainly, I’ll put a hold

on him.”

I went to talk to Terry about Billy Bob, as a pet for her mother. She was intrigued and

agreed to come over and look at him.

Terry walked up to the cage and said, “Oh1 He’s a beautiful bird.” 

“Squawk, thank you sweet one” Billy Bob fluffed his wings. “You’re a tasty treat.” 

“Well, aren’t you a flirty bird?”

I laughed. “You have an admirer.”

“Tell me Billy Bob, would you like to come home with me?”

“I’ll follow you anywhere . . . Squawk.”

The banter went back and forth. I took the time to check with the guy helping us to find

out what we needed to do to take Billy Bob home with us.

He said, “Just the adoption application and a waiver.” He pulled the paperwork from a

folder. “It’s all standard stuff.”

“What’s the waiver for?”

“By signing it, you assume responsibility for the parrot.” He held the papers up.

“Standard stuff as I said before.” 

I took the forms and tapped Terry on the shoulder. “I have the paperwork. What do you

want to do?”

“Well, I just think he’s adorable. Perfect for my mom.”

“A parrot is an unusual pet. I just want you to be sure before we take him home.” I

scratched my head. “Do you think we should ask your mom? She’s expecting a dog or cat. A

parrot might be a shock.”

“I don’t see anything to worry about. He’ll be less trouble than a puppy.” She patted me

on the shoulder. “Fill out the paperwork, while I talk to Billy Bob.”

I completed the forms, and we walked out with the bird and a list of instructions for his

care. “Are we dropping him off tonight?” I bumped the cage on the door as I set it in the back

seat.

“Squawk! Easy, junior, I’m breakable.”

Terry took the paperwork. “I thought we’d wait till tomorrow, then I can spend

time with mom, so she can become used to her new pet.” Terry clasped her hands. “This is so

exciting. I can’t wait for her to meet Billy Bob. It will be magical.”

“Not sure about that, but I know it will be memorable.”

“Squawk . . . I’ll drive.”

I laughed. “Not today, Billy Bob.” I started the car and drove out of the parking lot.

As we entered the roundabout, the parrot squealed. “Watch out for that car.”

“No worries, I got this.”

Billy Bob squawked, “You’re going too fast. Slow down.”

“Wow. Terry, it seems like he’s been trained by you.”

“Ha! Very funny, but he’s right.” Terry smiled. “Mom drives way too fast, so if she takes

Billy Bob in the car, he can keep her in line.” 

“Not sure about that, but I agree she drives her car like it’s stolen.”

The bird squawked, fluffed his wings, picked at the cage and whistled. 

“He’s a noisy ass bird.” I shook my head.

“I think he’s cute.”

“Let’s hope your mom does too.” 

Terry spent the rest of the evening entertaining Billy Bob, while I tried to watch the ball

game. We found out the best way to silence the bird was to put a cover over his cage. Something

that will be helpful for Terry’s mom to know.

Early the next morning we took Billy Bob over to Betty’s, Terry’s mom. As expected, she

was surprised but intrigued as well. Billy Bob squawked out orders and snippy comments, but

Betty was feisty and stood toe-to-toe with his snarky retorts. We spent the better part of the day

there and went over the care and feeding requirements for a parrot. When it was time to leave, I

casually mentioned to Betty that if she didn’t feel comfortable, we could take him and rehome

him with someone else. 

Betty said, “No, he’ll be fine. I just need to teach him my way,”

As we started to walk to the door. Billy Bob squawked. “Are you leaving me with this old

biddy?”

Betty answered. “This old lady is the one who’s going to feed you. Think about that.”

“Wish granted.” Terry turned to me and whispered. “A match made in heaven.”

“We’ll, this was an interesting couple of days.” I smiled. “I wonder who sent the key?”

“Hmm! We may never know. It’s a crazy world out there.” Terry shrugged.

“I know it wasn’t me.” I picked up my guitar.

“Of course not, dear.”

The Key - Part 2

We pulled into the post office parking lot and I handed the key to Terry. “You check.

I’m done.” For me this whole thing was just one big waste of time. She took the key and jumped

out of the car. I turned the radio on and zoned out, not expecting any better news than we had

 earlier in the day.

A couple minutes later Terry walked out with a medium size cardboard box in her hands

and a huge smile on her face. She opened the car door and said, “I told you.”

“How come you didn’t open it?”

“I’m waiting until we get home.” She couldn’t keep from smiling. “This is so much fun.”

As I pulled into the garage, Terry had opened the car door ready to jump out as soon as

we stopped. She ran inside with the box. By the time I got in the house, the packing was strewn

all over kitchen floor.

“What is it?” I anxiously asked.

“You won’t believe it.” She stared intensely and seemed to be mesmerized by it’s

contents.

I stepped across the kitchen to take a peek. “Hmm! Looks like something from Pier One.

They carry all those hard-to-find gifts that no one ever buys.” 

“Magnificent!” She carefully removed it and set it on the table. “It’s old.”

“No. It’s made to look old.” I crossed my arms. “Of course, this makes perfect sense. I

should have guessed.”

Terry held it up like a trophy. “How many wishes do you think we’ll get?”

“Oh! You think it’s a magic lamp like Aladdin’s.”

“Well, look at it. What else could it be?”

“Decoration for some gypsy’s house.” I smirked. “Go ahead, rub it to see what happens.”

“Okay, I will.” Terry closed her eyes as if that would make a difference and gently

rubbed the lamp while waiting for a genie to appear.

I twirled around, snapped my fingers and said “Poof!” I bowed and said, “I’m Harvey,

your genie. You have three wishes my dear. Use them wisely.”

“Harvey? That’s a terrible name for a genie.”

“Careful, I can make it two.”

“No. No. I apologize. Harvey, is a great name.” Terry curtsied.

I nodded. “What is your first wish, my dear?”

“My first wish is for me. Help me be authentic, generous and spontaneous. I want to

travel to Paris in a private jet and have an elegant dinner prepared by celebrity chef, Gordon

Ramsay.”

“Whoa! You might be confused as to what one wish includes. First of all, we don’t make

changes to your personality. Being authentic, generous and spontaneous doesn’t qualify as

a valid wish. The Paris thing in a private jet and the elegant dinner prepared by Gordan Ramsay

is over the top. Pick one and don’t be greedy!”

“Okay, so sorry. How about an elegant dinner at my home prepared by my celebrity genie

Harvey?”

“Now you’re talkin’. Your wish is granted.”

“Great. When is it? Tonight.? What are we having? Seafood please.”

“Hold on. Give me a minute. You just finished wishing.”

“I know, but I need to put it in my planner, now.”

‘Hmm! It’s a shame patience is a personality change.”

“What about my second wish?”

“Oh! You want to do them all today? I thought you might want to wait on the other two.”

“No, I know what I want. My second wish is for my husband. He hardly works and has a

lot of spare time. Help me find him a hobby.”

“Do you mean he works hard?”

“No, I said what I said.”

“Okay then. That is still a generous wish. It is granted.”

“So, what’s his hobby?”

“You’ll have to wait and see. Be patient. You know what that is, right?”

“My third wish is for my mom. She lives alone, and I’m afraid she may get lonely, so I

want her to have a companion she can trust who could also entertain her in an annoying way.”

“Excellent idea. She does like sarcastic humor. This is also a very generous wish. You

seem to be very authentic. Your wish is granted.

I’ll be leaving now but let me know how things worked out.”

“How will I get a hold of you?” Terry asked.

“Just whistle. You know how to do that, right?”

She smiled. “Yes, put your lips together and blow.” Terry sauntered off, tilted her head

and flipped her hair in my direction.

I touched my rear with two fingers, pretended to blow out the flames, then gave her a two

fingered wave as I left the kitchen. 

* * * 

Later that night I was making dinner, a casual no frills meal, when my wife walked in.

“Oh! Dinner.” Terry leaned over and sniffed. “Do I need to get dressed?”

“You are dressed.”

Terry put her hands on her hips. “No. I mean in my fancy clothes?”

“You can. It’s up to you.”

She put her hands together. “Oh! What are we having?”

I held up a tasting spoon. “Hot dogs and beans.”

“That’s not fancy.”

“We’ve got cloth napkins.”

 “You were supposed to make me an elegant dinner.” Terry frowned and crossed her

arms. “It was my first wish.”

“I know, but it’s tomorrow night. I never said it was tonight.” I picked up a ladle. “Hey,

you’ll want some beans with your hot dog. They have some big bacon chunks in them.”

“Well, sure and no reservations needed.”

I took off work the next day so I could immerse myself in the preparation of the elegant

meal for my wife. The market had all the essential ingredients I needed which included the 

appetizer, salad, main course and dessert. I bought them all plus a chef’s hat which I had

embroidered with Chef Harvey across the top. It was the perfect addition to my outfit. 

It was a fun evening. My wife was all dolled up in her finest dress with color coordinated

shoes and purse. I grabbed the best sweatshirt that I could find from the clean basket ironed it.

Yay for me. “Why did you bring your purse? You know I won’t be charging you.”

“I know, but it completes the outfit.” Terry held her purse up to show me. “Your outfit is

perfect. That red sweatshirt really sets off your bloodshot eyes.”

“Thanks for noticing.” I smiled. “Tonight, our appetizer comes to you direct from Chile,

jumbo shrimp sautéed in white wine with green chiles. Tender and tangy but delightful.” I set the

plates on the table and snapped a napkin then laid it on Terry’s lap. 

“Wow, this looks really good.”

“Thanks, it was the best frozen appetizer Schnucks carried.” 

“Woohoo! Aren’t I special.”

We sat and talked while we dined on the shrimp. “You know jumbo shrimp is one of

those descriptions that shouldn’t be.”

Terry took a bite. “Yes. I agree. Maybe we should refer to them as extremely robust.”

“I like that. From now on we’ll call them robust shrimp.” I stood and walked to the

counter to get the salads I previously prepared. As I set Terry’s bowl in front of her, she picked

up a fork and scooped out a crouton.

“What kind of salad is this?”

“Oh! This is a Harvey salad. It’s like a Ceasar salad only different.”

“How is it different?”

“Well it’s made by Harvey instead of Ceasar.”

“Sounds wonderful.”

We sat and leisurely enjoyed our Harvey salads. I explained our main course requires

special handling and special equipment. I went to the garage and brought in a fire extinguisher,

and set it on the table.

“Well, this should be interesting.”

“Yes, I think I can guarantee that.” I rolled a cart over to the table containing a

portable burner to pan fry the steak. “Tonight, we are having Steak Diane. The final step in the

preparation is to light the cognac which will burn off the alcohol. Hence, the fire extinguisher.”

“Yummy and who is Diane?”

“It’s just the name of the dish. I don’t know the history of it. For tonight let’s call it

Steak Terry.” 

“I love that!”

I was pleased to serve the steaks without any mishaps. They looked delicious. I hoped 

they tasted half as good.

Terry took a bite. “The steak is very tender . . . Is it supposed to taste like lighter fluid?”

“It is not.” I bent over to smell the steak. “Does yours taste like lighter fluid?”

“No, but you put something in that portable burner.”

“Butane, it’s odorless and tasteless.”

“You would only know that if you tasted it. Did you?”

“No, butane is not a regular part of my diet.” I smiled. “No, really, how is your steak?”

“It’s terrific.” Terry giggled. “I love Steak Butane.” 

I rolled my eyes. Once we finished the main course, I went to get the dessert. “Tonight,

we will be having Gordan Ramsay’s favorite dessert, Sticky Toffee Pudding.”

“Oh! That sounds wonderful.” Terry smacked her lips.

“I watched a YouTube video. The whole process only took ten minutes.”

“Wow! How long did it take you?”

“Huh!”  I shrugged. “Twenty, then eighteen, then finally seventeen.”

“You cooked three batches.”

“Well, I had to make sure they tasted good.”

“And did they?”

“See for yourself.” I set the dessert plates on the table each adorned with a chocolate

covered strawberry”.

“It looks delicious.” Terry took a bite. “Wow, this is terrific.”

“Thank you, sweetie.” I winked. “So, how was your first wish?”

“I couldn’t ask for more. You’re the best, Chef Harvey.” Terry took another bite of the

pudding. “Tomorrow, is my second wish.”

* * * 

The Key - Part 1

This is a long short story so it is split into 3 parts. I hope you enjoy reading it.

 

The Key

 

My wife, Terry, walked in while I was relaxing in my recliner and searching the Internet and

asked. “Did you hear the mailman?”

“I wasn’t paying attention, but you can look on the Ring camera.”

“Never mind. I’ll just go check.” She walked to the front door and opened it. “

“That’s great, but I don’t know why you bother.” I shrugged. “It’s mostly junk mail.”

“There could be some sales I don’t want to miss.” 

“Of course!” I leaned back in the recliner and continued my Internet search.

She came back in waving the mail like she just won an Olympic medal.

“Anything good?” I asked.

“Mostly junk, but there’s one letter for you. It’s marked Confidential.” She pulled it out

of the stack and tossed it to me. “It feels like there’s something in it.”

I opened it up and sure enough there was a key taped to the letter. It wasn’t a house key

but some kind of locker key. It was stamped with the number 217-S, and someone had dabbed a

blob of red paint on it. I turned toward my wife and said, “There’s a key. It looks like it’s for a

locker. You know, like from a bowling alley, skating rink, or an airport locker.”

“Is there a message or instruction about what you should do with the key?”

I handed her the letter. “The message is vague and cryptic.”

Terry read the message, “The treasure is behind the locked door. This is the key to

happiness. Find the door and you will understand.” 

“Interesting, but I’m sure it’s a scam,” I insisted.

“So, what are you going to do?”

I held up the envelope with the key. “Trash day tomorrow, right?’

“Yes.”

“It’s a scam. I’m going to throw it out.”

“You’re so distrusting,” Terry said.

“It’s the world we live in.” I walked outside and threw it in the trash, then 

took the bin to the curb for pick up the next morning.

That evening we had friends over. While playing cards my wife brought up the letter. Our

friends thought it was intriguing and questioned my actions about tossing it in the trash. They

thought it would have been interesting to see how it played out, but I would not be swayed from

my belief.

The next morning at breakfast I heard the trash truck. When I finished my coffee, I

went to get the empty can. I opened the lid, just to check. There has been a time or two when

they passed us by. It was empty, except for the envelope stuck in the bottom. I tilted the bin and

reached in and pulled it out. Really, imagine that. Terry is going to make a big deal out of this.

Like it’s a sign. Hmm! Maybe I won’t show it to her. She’ll never know.

I walked in the house with it in my hand. When I saw Terry standing by the refrigerator,

I tried to hide it in my pocket, but I was too slow. 

“Hi Hon. Whatcha got there?”

I knew I was busted. “It got stuck in the bottom . . .  but it doesn’t mean anything.”

“Sure, whatever you say, dear.”

“I’ll take it to the office and throw it in their trash. This is ridiculous. I just want to be

done with it.” I grabbed my jacket and walked toward the door.

“Have a nice day, Sweetie.”

“Thanks dear. I’ll bring some Chinese home for dinner tonight.”

Terry waved. “Great! Don’t forget the fortune cookies.”

First thing I did when I got to the work was to throw the envelope in the office trash. It’ll

 Be gone by noon. My morning was busy with a new project. It was lunch before I knew it.

When I came back to my desk, I noticed my trash can had been emptied. Finally, it’s gone. Our

regular afternoon meeting ran over, so I was late getting back to my desk. I grabbed my jacket,

when I saw the envelope on my desk with a note attached. It was from the custodian, It read,

“This letter must have accidentally fallen into the trash. It seems important, so I retrieved it for

you.”

I snatched the letter from my desk and shoved it into my pocket. The key was still in

there. My phone chimed to remind me to pick up Chinese for dinner. I punched in the number

and ordered shrimp fried rice, Crab Rangoon, General Tso mild. I like it spicy, but Terry doesn’t,

so I order it mild then I put Cayenne pepper on mine. Oh! Yeah . . . fortune cookies. I didn’t want

to forget those. I tried to ignore my thoughts of the key,  but my mind kept circling back to it. I 

stopped at Asian 101 for my order then headed home, just a mile away.

After parking the car in the garage, I went into the kitchen and set the food and the

envelope on the table. Terry had poured herself a glass of tea. “Would you like some?”

“No, I’m going to have a beer.” I opened the fridge and grabbed a Tiger beer, made in

Singapore. Lately I’ve been buying specialty beers.

“Everything good?” Terry reached for the bag of Chinese but grabbed the envelope and

held it up. “You seem distracted.”

“I’m a little annoyed.” Pointing to the envelope she was holding. “That keeps following

me. I can’t get rid of it.”

“It’s a sign.”

“I knew you were going to say that.” I frowned. “No, it’s just a coincidence.”

“Aren’t you curious?” She opened the envelope and took the key out “Let’s see if we can

figure out what kind of locker this opens.” She held the key up, inspected it and then dangled it 

in front of me. “I’m leaning toward airport locker. What do you think?”

“Why would you say airport?” I reached out and took the key. “For all I know it could be

a safety deposit box.” 

“Oh! That could be. I’d love it to be a safety deposit box.” Terry drummed her

fingers on the table. “It’s probably too many numbers for a bowling alley or a skating rink but

not an airport.”

“Well, it doesn’t mean the numbers would start at one. They could start at 100 or 200.

Any number really.” I flipped it over, looking for name. “The letter is puzzling. What’s the

significance?”

Terry opened the shrimp fried rice and scooped some on a plate, then snatched a Crab

Rangoon. She slid the bag over to me. “I’m going to eat while we discuss the key.”

“Good idea.” I dished some General Tso onto my plate, and opened a packet of cayenne

pepper. “You know, as much as I want it to be a safety deposit key, it’s unlikely. Identification

would be required to open it.”

“True and don’t most keys from bowling alley lockers have those plastic caps on

them.” Terry picked up a fortune cookie. “This key looks fairly new, so it hasn’t had a lot of

use.”

“Yeah! So, we should probably eliminate skating rinks and bowling alleys.” I dug in the 

bag and pulled out a Crab Rangoon and a fortune cookie. “So, that leaves bus, train or airport.

What about a post office box?”

“Hmm, that could be. All you need is a key, no identification required.” Terry opened her

fortune cookie. “Listen to this.” She held the fortune up to read. “Life is limitless with the right 

key.”

“Okay, another coincidence.” I shook my head. “I’m not letting a fortune cookie

determine my life choices.” 

“Go ahead open yours.”

“Fine.” I cracked it open and pulled out the fortune then read it. “Your wife is crazy. You

should be careful.”

“No, it doesn’t say that.” She grabbed it from me and read it aloud.” Any key is worth

trying. Opportunity could be knocking.” Terry put her hands on her hips and said, “See! What do

you say now, smarty pants?”

“I want a second opinion.” I reached in the bag and found another fortune cookie.

 Terry grabbed it out of my hand. 

“I can’t trust you.” She held it up to her eyes. “You only get a few chances in life, don’t

pass them by.” She smiled. “You can’t ignore these messages. We have to try to figure

this out.”

“I still think it’s going to be a waste of time, but I’ll give you a few days.”

Terry giggled and clapped her hands. “Yeah! Come on. Let’s go to the airport.”

“So, you’re convinced we’ll find the locker there?” I stood up. “Don’t get your hopes up,

it could be in schools, amusement parks or any public place.” 

“It’s the airport.” Terry picked up her jacket. “I’ll bet you.”

“Bet me?” I took out my keys. “Why? You never pay up.” I laughed. “You owe me 

thousands from all the bets we’ve made.”.

“Come on! Just a nickel. That shouldn’t break you.”

“Ok, fine, but if you lose, I want my nickel.”

As we made our way to the airport, I pointed out all the places that could have lockers.

There were a couple prime locations to find lockers at the airport like the baggage area, and main

terminal. We weren’t allowed on the concourse, because we didn’t have tickets, so it seemed an

unlikely location. The numbering system didn’t match our key, plus the airport lockers were

expensive.  

After having no luck finding the right locker, we left the airport. Terry had lost the

perkiness in her stride.

“Hey, you owe me a nickel.” I held out my hand. “I’m not going anywhere until I get my

money.”

“I don’t have any change.” She winked. “I’ll pay you later.”

“Yeah, no.”

Terry took out her wallet. And handed me a dollar bill. “Now, you owe me ninety-five

 cents.”

I waved the dollar bill at her. “I’ll just consider it payment of a previous debt.” 

“You’re such a jerk.” As we walked to the car, Terry asked, ”Where are we going next?”

We passed a storage place, hotel, bus station and the post office. “Let’s check those out, 

after we get some lunch.”

“You pay, because you owe me ninety-five cents.”

“Of course, honey.”

We pulled into Panera’s and ordered two sandwiches, two lemonades and a pumpkin

muffie. The bill was twenty-eight dollars. For lunch! “Well, I assume my ninety-five cents 

debt is paid?”

“Lunch comes out of a different pot of money. So, no.” She pointed down the street. 

“Let’s go looking for more lockers.”

We stopped at three more places on the way home but found nothing. I was ready to call

it quits but Terry said. “One more, please.”

We pulled into the post office parking lot and I handed the key to Terry.