“The Bag”
It was a typical morning for Henry James. He was up by 5:00 a.m., dressed by 5:30, and out the door. His life wasn’t going quite as he had always envisioned. Just last month, he had been laid off from a job he’d held for more than thirteen years. His boss said it was due to downsizing, but Henry knew better.
There had always been tension between him and the new shop steward — the boss’s nephew — a young, slightly arrogant man who was a little too sure of himself. That morning, he’d screamed at Henry one time too many. Henry finally shouted back, and word for word, they went at it. Four days later, the downsizing became a priority.
Henry told himself it was inevitable anyway, and in a way, he was good with it. Still, things didn’t look promising. The rent was due, he was late on alimony, and Sarah never gave him a break on that. He had done the math a thousand times — $50,000 was all he needed to get free of his problems.
It was another Friday morning. Henry was up as usual, ready to head out for another long day of job hunting. He’d be on the computer half the night submitting résumés and pounding the pavement all day. For what? he thought. I’m not twenty anymore. Who’s going to hire a fifty-three-year-old geezer?
Still, he pushed on. He had to do something. Like every Friday before, he stopped at the little strip mall for a cup of coffee — and to see if anyone would have mercy on an old man. He pulled up as usual, windows down to take in the fresh air. He was about to roll them up and get out when, suddenly, a young man came bursting around the corner.
The kid’s eyes were wide with fear. He was running full speed. Henry froze, trying to process what was unfolding in front of him. The young man darted between Henry’s car and another parked nearby. He never looked at Henry — probably never even saw him — but he clearly noticed the open windows. As he ran past, he tossed a paper bag through Henry’s window without breaking stride.
Henry was so focused on the young man that he didn’t see the two cops until they were right in front of him. Before he could react, the young man and both officers were gone — out of sight.
Henry sat there staring at the bag, glancing around for any sign of anyone. Nothing. He opened the bag cautiously. Inside — cash. Lots of it.
Henry had always considered himself a man of integrity, but he rationalized, This is an obvious gift from God.
He started the car and drove straight home. Inside, he counted the money: $50,000 in cash.
It took Henry three days before he spent the first of it. He sent Sarah what he owed her. He was still afraid, but as time passed, that fear slowly faded. He couldn’t believe his good fortune — never once wondering where the young man got the money. It was obviously not his; the cops don’t chase you over your own cash.
Weeks later, after climbing out of his financial hole, he started really thinking about what he had done. He even got a call about a part-time job at the strip mall collecting carts for the grocery store, but he couldn’t accept it. What if they saw me? What if the young man recognized me later?
His mind played out thousands of horrifying scenarios — and in each one, he ended up dead.
Six months later, job offers began to pour in. He finally got over his fear of repercussions and accepted a position at a car dealership.
One day, while talking to a customer, something made him turn toward the window. Outside, his co-worker was standing with a man in an expensive suit — the kind you only see in mob movies. The two were by Henry’s car, and the co-worker was pointing toward the showroom.
The man in the suit turned and started walking inside.
Henry’s heart dropped. Panic took over.
He bolted out of the showroom and through the service garage — and that was the last time he was ever seen.