Bad Nickel(Tom Di Roma) Bad Nickel


It seemed as if the nickel sat on that windowsill for weeks. Every time I passed by, I’d look down, and there it would be sitting on that three-inch shelf along with a couple of salt and pepper packets from McDonald’s. Why the packets? Who knows? But why no one took the nickel seemed even more of a mystery to me. So why didn’t I take it if I was so aware of it? I’m not completely sure, but the idea of taking that nickel seemed—I don’t know—kind of like stealing?
Yeah, I know that doesn’t make sense, but that’s what I kept thinking. I mean, whom would I be stealing from? It wasn’t as if the nickel had anyone’s name engraved on it. It was just a plain, old, everyday nickel with a slight nick on one of its edges. And yet, there it lay tempting me each time I passed.
Like I said, this seemed to go on for weeks, but then one day when I passed by the windowsill on the way to the stall, I found the nickel gone! For some reason, I felt more sad than surprised. Seeing the nickel there every day felt as if I was participating in some kind of game. But now the game was over, so I continued into the stall to do my thing.
Yes, I’m talking about a bathroom stall, but it wasn’t just any bathroom. It was the bathroom that many of the employees as well as a number of the managers used at the auto dealership where I worked. So now that it was gone, my one thought was, I wonder who finally took it? Unless I ask, I’ll probably never know. So shrugging off all thoughts of the coin, I continued with my business, until the following day when I saw the nickel had returned!
What the hell?
I wondered why you’re back, I thought to myself? Of course, I had no idea. Maybe someone had decided it was bad luck to have taken it in the first place. That was a stupid idea I told myself, until I saw one of the lot boys walking around with a cast on his arm. That started me thinking.
“What did you do?” I asked him, as we passed each other.
He turned and replied, “I tripped going up a flight of stairs and fell on my arm.”
Cringing, I thought, Ouch!
I also thought to myself, I wonder was that before or after you took the nickel? I had no proof it was him, of course, but that’s what I thought, and then I laughed at myself. That was silly. But it didn’t seem so silly when, after the next time the nickel disappeared, one of the sales people showed up wearing one of those medical boots.
“What did you do, fall?” I asked, thinking I was being clever.
But he replied, “Yeah, how did you know?”
“Just a guess,” I said, as I felt myself begin to blush.
“Actually, I tripped over my wife’s cat and hurt my ankle.”
That’s why you shouldn’t have taken the nickel, I thought again.
At this point, I couldn’t help but think that this whole thing with the nickel was getting a little freaky! Not only because it actually seemed possible that the nickel was somehow cursed, but how in the hell did it always manage to find its way back to the windowsill? Did it just magically appear there by itself? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
Then it disappeared for a couple of days and that’s when the dealership almost burnt down. It took the fire department nearly twenty minutes to put out the fire, which destroyed a couple of our most expensive vehicles, and seared the face of one wall. I couldn’t stop wondering who had taken the coin this time? Had it been someone at the top—maybe the owner himself? If it was him, I bet that stung something fierce. I know it would have me.
Now, when I passed by the window, I made sure to give the nickel (which had returned once again) a wide berth. But then one day, I decided to take a chance and try something. No, I didn’t take the nickel for myself. I merely nudged it with my index finger until it fell on the floor, at which point, I kicked it under a planter someone from the office thought would help brighten up the bathroom.
Nothing major happened to me, but I did get a nasty paper cut on the same finger I used to push the nickel off the windowsill. So just to play it safe, that night before going home, I retrieved the nickel from under the planter and put it back on the windowsill. And then I waited. Sure enough, one of the valets showed up with his hand heavily bandaged. They said he got a couple of his fingers caught in a car door. Once again, I had to think, Ouch!
This whole thing with the nickel was starting to creep me out. That’s why I began to seriously think about maybe changing jobs, but then they transferred me to a different part of our dealership, which meant I didn’t have to see or think about the nickel anymore; until, that is, it showed up one day in the bathroom next to my new office. Talk about nearly having a heart attack! Was that damned thing following me? Was I somehow the reason it even started showing up in the first place?
The next week, our General Manger ended up getting himself run over by a car on our lot, even though no one had been driving it. By then, an acquaintance of mine had offered me a more lucrative position at another dealership, which I gladly took.
Everything was going along great until one day, I spotted a couple of people with band aids stuck to various parts of their bodies. I wondered, could this have anything to do with the shiny new penny I noticed on the counter in one of the main bathrooms? God, I hope not!

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