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The Devil’s wallet
The devils wallet
The night crew at a coffee shop finds a wallet left by a strange customer and finds out how dire the consequence can be when you choose not to do the right thing.
The night crew at Full Steam coffee house was a notorious bunch of misfits. And we took pride in that respect. What was nice about it was that it lacked the overbearing eyes of retail management and we could do as we pleased for the most part. Playing whatever music we wanted without having to worry about someone complaining… too much anyway. We’d turn down the music, allow the bible study groups or whatever to rearrange our furniture, otherwise we’d get an earful about it from Edna, the manager.
We all loved Edna, but when searching for ways to describe her, generally titanic bitch came up on top.
But that was retail for you I guess.
The misfit night crew consisted of Dexter, Topaz or Tope as we called him for short, Mallory and myself… There would be some rotation to account for scheduled days off and such but for the past year this was THE night crew.
Tope was an amazing barista, he could free pour designs in drinks that defied physics. When people asked him if he could do a swan, he’d just smirk and then do a flamingo… like I said, he was incredible, on a completely different level.
Mallory was just out of high school and seemed to be perpetually oblivious to her voluptuous figure as she was known for having frequent wardrobe malfunctions or just didn’t own many clothes that fit her properly.
In either case, Dexter had to send her home more than a few times to change. She just had no concern for modesty I guess. Finally there was me, originally applied here to help pay for college. And after I graduated with a shiny degree in my hands I still had no idea what I was going to do… so I just kept working at the coffee shop. I guess I was comfortable, and the thought of working in an office or sitting in front of a computer all day… just didn’t hold an ounce of appeal for me. I liked the interaction with the customers, the banter and stories about the exploits of the other Baristas. Dexter was in a band which I didn’t learn about him for nearly half a year after I had met him. I don’t know what was cooler, the fact that he sounded like Roy Orbison or the fact that he didn’t brag about it ever.
Tope was just Tope, he was really into coffee and didn’t talk much about himself… unless it was about some amazing coffee he got on his last trip to Sac, and how he wished Full Steam would source better beans.
We weren’t exactly friends, but we had a rhythm and we worked well together and would sometimes hang out after work. Since Mallory was not twenty one we’d usually end up going to Denny’s or this other 24 hour Diner called the Bluejay Lounge.
For a while this was how it was for the misfit night crew, and it all changed when we found that wallet…
It was about 20 minutes to closing on a Thursday night when a man in a sharp black suit breezed in and asked to use the bathroom.
Tope gestured to the not so subtle sign on the door that read “restroom for customers only”
The man shrugged and said loudly…
“Fine I will buy some of your shitty coffee before I piss all over your bathroom floor for the inconvenience.” He said while grinning like a tv game show host.
This irritated Tope, I could see him flush a bright red from the lobby as I was dusting the fixtures.
The man argued with Tope for a few minutes about how coffee beans aren’t actually beans… “they are technically seeds, you know”. He said as if this would just rock Tope’s world.
I couldn’t help but dislike this person for obvious reasons, but that wasn’t all that was bugging me about him… it seemed like he was being intentionally combative, like he was just out looking for someone to knock his lights out. Maybe he was just drunk…
He bought a latte then asked in a jesterly voice. “May I please sir, oh good sir… make use of your facilities… sir?”
Tope was livid, and just nodded while sliding the man’s latte across the counter which went completely ignored.
It was now five minutes to closing and Mallory was waiting outside the bathroom armed with a mop and a very dour expression. She must have heard the comment about the man pissing all over the floor apparently.
Two minutes after closing, and the door to the bathroom swung open.
The man made a very satisfied AHHH, and sauntered out, not before giving us all a friendly wave saying “Ta Ta”
Tope glowered at him as he watched him disappear into the late evening.
I hustled over to the door and rotated the knob that slid a heavy deadbolt through the double door and flicked off the “OPEN” sign, and sighed in relief.
Mallory laughed and called him an asshole.
Tope just nodded as he poured out the abandoned latte.
Dexter came out from the back room to gather all the drawers from the registers and tally the tips.
We spent a few moments relaying to Dexter about our last customer when we heard Mallory cackle from the restroom…
She came out waving a thick leather billfold over her head like a trophy.
“He forgot his wallet, and there’s like a ton of money in here.”
Sure enough as we gathered around to see, there was indeed a thick stack of hundred dollar bills. In total there was twenty four hundred dollars, a small fortune.
What was not in the wallet was any form of identification or credit cards, in one of the slots where a credit card would be, was a business card with a note printed on it. It read, if found please dial 666.
Clearly that was a joke, we all agreed. Dexter said he would put it in the safe, and if the douchebag didn’t come back in a few days they’d all split the cash. I thought about my student loans and my poor iphone which was spiderwebbed with cracks… I could use the extra cash for sure. And yet I felt this twinge of doubt about this person… he wanted us to take it. His behaviour was just a way for us to justify our claim to it. It felt like a trap to me, and after a week went by I took my share of the cash almost reluctantly.
It feels like such a long time ago, but it’s only been a few days since Mallory made another discovery… and though none of us saw the man enter, it was clear he had been here, and had left a note in the exact place he had left his wallet.
Mallory looked confused as she handed the card to Dexter and after reading it handed it to Tope who then handed it to me… it read. – I know you have my money, I’d like it back please. –
After closing that night we convened at our usual Dennys and talked about what to do. The accusation was mostly right, but the truth was that they “Had” the money because it was pretty much spent.
Dexter had purchased a new microphone and Tope splurged on a couple high end bottles of bourbon. Mallory spent it on, you know… stuff – she said while hooking a thumb through a silver rope chain . I was the only one who hadn’t done anything with it and could see it in my mind’s eye, stacked neatly inside a music box on my dresser.
We decided that it didn’t matter how he knew, and we would just pay him back the next payday and that would be that. Like a group of conspirators, thick as thieves we would call his silly number and explain our plan and hope he would let bygones be bygones.
In the parking, lot Dexter dialed three sixes and pressed Call.
It was ringing, and after two rings a cheery voice greeted them.
“Oh how wonderful, it’s the little thieves, how are we this evening?”
Dexter took a professional approach, and explained that yes they took the money and didn’t realize 666 was a real phone number…
“Excuses, excuses… So do you have my wallet? And more importantly my money?”
Dexter informed him of their intent to pay him back this coming friday but was cut off abruptly…
“No, no, no.. I asked if you had MY money… the exact notes that were in that wallet, where I left in trust to you fine little thieves.”
Dexter was losing his cool, and said that most of it was spent already but they would have it Friday if he would just…
“You are missing the point entirely, I’m afraid I will have to take punitive actions.” And the line went dead… Dexter looked up at us and quietly cursed before dialing the number again.
We could all hear the automated message informing us that number was not valid.
“How do we get those exact bills back? It’s been over a week, they could be anywhere.” Tope said.
“He’s just messing with us Tope, what’s the difference right? Money’s Money. And it’s just his word against ours right?”
“Yeah, I guess so… but there’s just something wrong about him. I think he’s serious man.” Tope said, panic on the edges of his usual cool tone.
Mallory just shrugged and went back inside the restaurant. When she didnt come out again I began to worry and said to the boys I’d go check on her.
I froze when I saw her feet sticking out from under the stall, it was like she was kneeling, facing the toilet, but I didn’t see her knees! Like she was hovering over the tiles. I tore open the locked stall fueled by pure adrenaline, and I saw her there, suspended by the throat on her long silver rope chain that was caught on a coat hook.
I must have been screaming, since the women’s room was soon crowded with people, Firefighters, EMTS, cops, it was kind of a blur. All I could hear in my mind, like a song that gets stuck, Punitive actions, over and over and over.
It was called a freak accident, but I know better. How did that chain even get caught on the hook, and why couldn’t she just stand up? The image of a man in a sharp black suit pulling that chain tight around her neck till she stopped moving came to mind.
Dexter didn’t show for work the next day and neither did Tope…
They found Dexter hanging by a microphone cord in his garage.
Topes’ roommates found him face down in a puddle of vomit with two empty bottles of top shelf bourbon near his body.
Of course these were explained away by words like suicide, and overdose… but they died by things they had bought with that money!
The next few days was like being followed by the grim reaper himself, every situation was a freak accident in waiting. I could hardly stand it and so I called his number. There was no answer but he seemed to have gotten the message.
As if I had summoned him, there he was… walking up like nothing in the world was wrong.
I pulled out his wallet holding it out like a talisman, and he smiled. He said – “hey kid… appreciate the gesture.”
“You killed them” I said softly, tears welling up in my eyes.
“Did I? Nah…they did that to themselves…. You know what? How about you keep that money for trying to do the right thing.”
“Dont you need it?”
“Devil dont need money darlin…” He said as he turned and walked out.
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Everyone’s lost but me
When you know the destination its just a matter of what route you choose. It’s not always a straight line, and sometimes you even backtrack. Only to realize that it is no longer the same as you remembered. The destination of course is death. Be it underground or a mausoleum. Or even under open air exposed to the sky. There’s no avoiding it, like any last stop, final exit, end of the line. You will have to get off. Knowing this, what point is it to gripe and complain the whole way? There are things to see and do, those landmarks so often photographed and posed to. Clinging to the grains of sand that only pour through your fingers. Let them go, and find something worth their passing.
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