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- Story Listed as: Fiction For Adults
- Theme: Family & Friends
- Subject: Death / Heartbreak / Loss
- Published: 07/23/2024
Checkmate
Born 1945, M, from Farmersburg, United StatesAndy saw the curtains move and knew she was there. Going up the steps to her home - actually her parents’ home - he rang the doorbell. Nothing happened. The chime sounded throughout the home. He waited a minute, then two. Still nothing. He rang it again. Surely, they could hear it even if they missed it the first time they would hear it now. Andy waited, then pushed it for the third time. He shifted from one foot to the next.
He heard a click. Slowly, the door opened. He smiled. At last, he would see her outside of school. He stared at her mother through the storm door. “Is…” He cleared his throat. “Is she home?” Andy knew she was. The curtain he saw moving was in her bedroom.
Her mother glared down at him. This little poor boy. “Go away. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“Please.” He said, tears misting his eyes.
“No, as I said. She doesn’t want to be seen with a poor boy. Now go away.” Her mother slammed the door. Andy turned and tripled down the steps. Kicking the snow, he walked the five blocks home to the old trailer he and his mother lived in. His shoes were wet, his socks were wet, his feet were freezing.
His mother saw him coming down the sidewalk. His head held down. Alice met him at the door.
“You didn’t wear the bags on your feet. Why?” she said, helping her shivering son off with his coat.
“The other kids make fun of me, mom.” Alice wanted to hug him. To protect him from the world, from hurt and disappointment. But Andy was too old for that. At twelve, with no father, he had to grow up fast. “Come on, I’ll draw you a bath. And you can forget all about those kids at school.”
As he went by the kitchen table, Andy saw a letter stamped in red letters. ‘Past Due’. He knew the payment to the bank was three months past. His mother had made parcel payments to the bank. Tomorrow being Saturday, he would go around shoveling sidewalks and driveways. Maybe he would make enough to help her.
While he bathed, not that he needed it, but it would warm him up, his mother put fresh clothes in the hallway. Alice put his wet shoes in the dryer. Even in the bathroom, he could hear them tumbling. In the bath, Andy let the warm water take him away. “If I was rich, she would like me.” He thought about it for a minute. “But would it be me or my money she loved?” He knew the truth without asking. “My money,” Andy said to his reflection in the full-length mirror.
His mother knocked on the bathroom door. “I put your clothes in the hall. Ok?”
“Thanks mom.” Andy got out of the tub and dried off. Dressed, he went barefoot into the kitchen.
There was a terrible smell. His mother had put his shoes on the open door of the oven again. The envelope with ‘Past Due’ on it was gone.
“Did you have a good day at school?” Alice asks giving him a plate with mac and cheese. Thankfully, they did not turn off the water, and the faucet still worked. Water clinked with ice cubes in his glass.
“It was ok, I guess.” Andy thought about the kids who teased him about the bags on his feet. He waited until after his mother thanked God for the food. Secretly, he wished for something better than mac and cheese. This was the third night they had the same thing. Alice was still looking for a job.
Later, lying in bed, Andy tried to pray. He couldn’t. If God cared so much for them, why did he let them suffer? Through the thin walls, he heard his mother praying.
The next morning, before Andy ate his cereal, there was a knock. Stepping to the door, Alice answered it. It was a deputy. Alice knew it was coming. The bank had extended her credit for several months. She stepped out onto the little deck.
“I’m sorry. I hate this part of the job.” Deputy Patrick said, handing Alice a piece of paper.
Alice smiled a sad smile. “It’s alright. I just wish they had waited until after Christmas. Know where I can find a job?”
“Actually, I do. There is a crusty old guy. Other side of town. He’s looking for a housekeeper. Doesn’t pay much but there’s a small house in back. I could put in a good word for you if you like?”
“That would be great. I’ve been looking for a job for a while.” Alice gave Deputy Patrick her phone number. “How long before I have to move?” She asks, thinking of living in her car.
“I can hold them off until Monday if that will help you out?” Deputy Patrick said.
“Yes, thank you,” Alice said, reaching out her hand. He shook it.
When she came back inside, Andy saw his mother’s tear-stained face and the paper in her hand. He had heard the muffled conversation. “How long do we have?” He asks, no longer interested in cereal. His stomach twisted into knots.
“Monday.” Alice said, trying to put up a brave front. Andy swallowed. A week from Christmas. She tried to smile. “One good thing is most of this stuff is junk.” She swept her hand over all the furniture. “Come on, if you’re through with breakfast, you can help me pack.” Andy followed her into the bedroom. Alice pulled two suitcases out of the closet. “Come on, it’ll be an adventure.”
Andy hit the old suitcase with his fist. “How can you say that? Everything bad happens to us. Not the Kennington’s. We’re going to have to live on the street.” Andy set down on the bed and sobbed.
Alice said nothing. She set down beside her son on the bed. Hugging him, she let him cry.
“Honey.” She said after his tears stopped. “We never know what God has in store for us.”
“I know, but I wish He would tell us.” He said.
“I know I do too. But then we wouldn’t have to have faith, would we?” Alice said. “We were looking for a place to live when we found this one.” She stood up. “Help me pack, ok.” She tousled his hair
“Ok.” He grinned at her.
At noon, they went through the house one more time. With no word from deputy Patrick, Alice thought they might have to go to the shelter. She pulled the mac and cheese from the refrigerator and put it on the stove. Her phone buzzed. She picked it up. Hitting a button, she answered. “Hello.”
“I understand you have a kid?” The voice sounded old and angry.
“Yes, I have a son,” Alice said carefully.
“Does he get into things?”
“No, he’s very well behaved.” She was almost to the point of ringing off.
“Be here at three.” The line went dead.
“Hello, hello.” She stared at the phone. “Be where at three?”
“That was strange.” Alice said, putting her phone on the table.
“Who was that, mom?” Andy asks, a spoonful of food halfway to his mouth.
“I don’t know.” The phone buzzed again. Alice picked it up.
“Look, how can I be there if you don’t tell me the address?”
“I guess he called you?” A male voice said.
“I’m sorry. Who is this?” She asks. Her son looked at her.
“Deputy Patrick. We met this morning.”
“Of course, just had a strange phone call.”
“Let me guess. Gave you the time for your interview. Didn’t give his name or address.”
“Right on all counts.”
He laughed. “That’s him. Bert Triune. His address is 15390 Sycamore.”
“Thank you.” She said, feeling relieved.
“One suggestion. Don’t be early and don’t be late. He is a grouchy old goat. But he’s fair and honest.” Deputy Patrick said.
But she was late. By two minutes. Alice didn’t know it until she went out to warm the car. One tire was flat. Andy helped her change it, but still they had to hurry to make it on time.
Driving slowly, they searched the house numbers. Alice stopped the car at a set of massive iron gates. Open-mouthed, they stared at the enormous mansion. The expanse of lawn, the trees, the circle drive. It all seemed like a dream. “Wow mom, look at this house.” Andy said, staring at the mansion. “I’ll bet the living room is bigger than our whole house.”
Jumping out, Alice hit the buzzer on the gatepost.
“Yes?” The voice sounded old.
“Alice Griffith, I’m here to apply for the housekeeper’s job.”
“Your late.” The voice sounded gruff.
“Sorry flat tire.” She said, her heart in her throat. If she didn’t get this job, they would have to go to the shelter.
“Well, don’t just stand there in the cold. Come in come in.”
“Be right there.” She hurried back to the car. “Isn’t this exciting?” Alice said. Not feeling excited, but depressed. The gate swung open.
She parked in the circle drive. The house was three stories. It loomed over them. Concrete steps led to two massive front doors. They gleamed in the afternoon sunshine.
“Bring the boy.” The elderly man shouted. He shut the door.
Leaving the car, Alice and Andy entered the house. After the sunny afternoon, it felt as if they were entering a dungeon. It took them a few seconds for their eyes to adjust.
The elderly man was standing a few feet away. He stared at Andy. “Do you play chess?”
“He…” Alice began.
“I didn’t ask you. I ask him.” The man said, leaning on his cane. “Speak up, boy, do you, or don’t you?”
“I…I’d be willing to learn.” Andy said. His face red.
“I’ll bet you would. Ok I eat on time. I ask you to make my bed every day. Menu is stuck to the cabinet door in the kitchen. Living quarters round back, you can park your car there. I don’t like to be disturbed before nine. Oh, and the deputy said you’re a churchgoing woman. Sunday mornings leave my breakfast in the microwave. Questions.”
“I…I’m hired.” Alice said. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Don’t you want to interview me?”
“Just did.” He entered a room and closed the door.
Andy looked at his mother, bewildered. Alice stared at the closed door, open-mouthed.
“I…I guess we better go see where we’re going to live.” Back in the car, they drove around to the house, a smaller version of the big house. Andy looked at his mother, his face creased with worry. “What if I can’t learn chess?”
She patted him on the thigh. “You’ll do fine.” She said with more confidence than she felt. “Come on. Let’s go see our new place.”
The house in back had a view of the pool and gardens. A row of huge trees would shade it in the summer. Large windows in front and glass doors in back let in sunlight. Three bedrooms, kitchen living room bath and a half all on one floor. The walls showed wear, and the paint was dull. The house was chilly. Alice found a thermostat and set the heat at 79. The utility room held the furnace a washer and dryer. There were shelves with unused cans of paint.
Exploring the house Andy said. “Mom, this is a miracle. This closet is bigger than my bedroom.”
Together, they thanked God for his care. Alice and Andy carried in their suitcase and emptied the car. At 4:30, they entered the back door of the mansion. Alice looked at the menu. “Bacon sandwiches with tomato and plenty of mayo. Two glasses of ice water. One after the other. After the evening meal, you are dismissed for the night.”
“That’s not much of a dinner.” Andy said.
Alice sighed. “I know, but if that’s what he wants. That’s what he gets.”
That next Friday, Alice was polishing the furniture on the second floor when she heard Bert yell. “You rat.” She hurried down the stairs. She halted at the open door to Bert Triune's study. “You beat me. How did you do that? You little rat.”
Triune was leaning on his cane, staring at the chessboard. A grinning Andy looked up at him.
“Is everything alright.” Alice ask looking from one to the other.
“No.” Bert said. “Your son had the audacity to beat me. Me. And then he yells checkmate.” He started setting up the board again. “I demand a rematch.” Jumping to his feet, Andy helped setup the chess pieces. Smiling, Alice went back to work. That night when she went in to say goodnight to Andy, he said. “Mom, I didn’t really beat him. He let me win.”
“I know, honey. He’s a lonely old man. I think it gave him a thrill to let you win.”
Christmas morning should be joyful for most children. To Andy, it was just another day. His mother gave him a bag of candy and a new pair of shoes. Even at that, she stretched her budget. Andy gave her a card and a small necklace. Pooling their money, they gave Bert Triune a long-sleeved shirt. He came down to breakfast and looked at the brightly wrapped package on the table. Picking it up, he looked at the name tag.
“I had a wife and a son.” He said. “I was in my office one day making money. She came in to speak to me. I got distracted. Had a meeting at three. She left.”
Alice watched him but didn’t interrupt, feeling there was more to the story. Tears coursed down the elderly man’s face. “That’s the last time I saw them alive. They were killed in an automobile accident that afternoon. My son was the same age as your son. Thank you for the gift.” He rose from his seat and headed for the door of the kitchen. Her eyes were moist.
Alice said, “Mr. Triune, aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” He turned back to her, his expression one of a broken man. “No.” He said harshly. “No.’ He said, his voice softer. “You can have the next three days off.” He held up the gift. Thank you.”
“What about your meals?” Alice said.
“I’ll make do. Enjoy the time with your son.” The door swung closed behind him.
Andy was playing a computer game when his mother came in to the house.
“Did he like his gift?” He said, smiling.
“I don’t know. He didn’t open it.” She told him what Bert Triune said.
Clucking the unopened present, Bert went to his study and closed the door. Seated, he slid open the top drawer on his desk. The desk was a gift from his wife just before her death. He fingered the baseball card his son gave him. Laying the card a safe distance away, he buried his face in his hands. His sobs racked his whole body. He stayed that way for a while. Reaching into a bottom drawer, he removed a photo album and lay it in front of him. Opening it, he looked at the photos of his wedding day, his son as a baby. The photo of the three of them on his son’s 10th birthday.
Andy took him aback. He looked so much like his son; he did a double take. Andy and his son could have been brothers. Twenty years. Had it been twenty years? When the police came to his office the day they died, it tore his heart out. All the joy was gone from his life. All that remained was sorrow. Playing chess with Andy was like playing chess with his son.
About 3 PM on December 26, Alice answered the door. A bundled-up man stood on the steps.
Smiling, he said. “Here you go.” In his hand, he held out a small key fob.
“What?” Behind him in the driveway set a shiny new Chevy Equinox.
“I’m sorry. He didn’t tell you? Bert Triune came in this morning soon as we opened. Didn’t haggle. Pointed to the Equinox behind me on the showroom floor. Said. “I want that car. Deliver it to my housekeeper this afternoon. Whipped out his checkbook and paid for it.”
“But…but he…but…he can’t do that.” Alice stammered.
“He can and he did.” The man shivered. “Maam do you mind if I step inside? It’s awful cold out here today.”
“Of course, please come in.” Alice stepped back, allowing the man to enter.
Andy, painting his bedroom, heard muffled voices. Finishing, he came into the living room just as the man from the dealership started their old car. He had taken time to wash his hands and was now drying them. He ran to the window.
“Mom, mom he’s taking our car,” Andy said.
Drying her eyes, she said. “Yes, I know.” She handed her son an envelope.
Opening it he saw the message Bert Triune had penned that morning:
Dear friends
I hope you don’t get offended by me calling you friends. I have not received a gift from anyone in years. When my wife and son were killed in an automobile accident, I shut myself off from the world. I sold my company and isolated myself from those outside.
In one short week, you have opened the world to me. Please accept this automobile as a gift from a lonely old man.
Merry Christmas.
Bert Triune
That was the beginning of a change in Bert. He attended church with Andy and Alice. A few weeks later, he gave his heart to Christ. No one clapped louder than he did when Andy walked across the stage to receive his high school diploma.
One morning, he didn’t come down for breakfast. Knocking on his door and receiving no response, Alice found him in bed. He had died during the night. And that’s the story of how Alice and Andy became the wealthiest people in the city. Bert saw to that in his will.
Checkmate(Darrell Case)
Andy saw the curtains move and knew she was there. Going up the steps to her home - actually her parents’ home - he rang the doorbell. Nothing happened. The chime sounded throughout the home. He waited a minute, then two. Still nothing. He rang it again. Surely, they could hear it even if they missed it the first time they would hear it now. Andy waited, then pushed it for the third time. He shifted from one foot to the next.
He heard a click. Slowly, the door opened. He smiled. At last, he would see her outside of school. He stared at her mother through the storm door. “Is…” He cleared his throat. “Is she home?” Andy knew she was. The curtain he saw moving was in her bedroom.
Her mother glared down at him. This little poor boy. “Go away. She doesn’t want to see you.”
“Please.” He said, tears misting his eyes.
“No, as I said. She doesn’t want to be seen with a poor boy. Now go away.” Her mother slammed the door. Andy turned and tripled down the steps. Kicking the snow, he walked the five blocks home to the old trailer he and his mother lived in. His shoes were wet, his socks were wet, his feet were freezing.
His mother saw him coming down the sidewalk. His head held down. Alice met him at the door.
“You didn’t wear the bags on your feet. Why?” she said, helping her shivering son off with his coat.
“The other kids make fun of me, mom.” Alice wanted to hug him. To protect him from the world, from hurt and disappointment. But Andy was too old for that. At twelve, with no father, he had to grow up fast. “Come on, I’ll draw you a bath. And you can forget all about those kids at school.”
As he went by the kitchen table, Andy saw a letter stamped in red letters. ‘Past Due’. He knew the payment to the bank was three months past. His mother had made parcel payments to the bank. Tomorrow being Saturday, he would go around shoveling sidewalks and driveways. Maybe he would make enough to help her.
While he bathed, not that he needed it, but it would warm him up, his mother put fresh clothes in the hallway. Alice put his wet shoes in the dryer. Even in the bathroom, he could hear them tumbling. In the bath, Andy let the warm water take him away. “If I was rich, she would like me.” He thought about it for a minute. “But would it be me or my money she loved?” He knew the truth without asking. “My money,” Andy said to his reflection in the full-length mirror.
His mother knocked on the bathroom door. “I put your clothes in the hall. Ok?”
“Thanks mom.” Andy got out of the tub and dried off. Dressed, he went barefoot into the kitchen.
There was a terrible smell. His mother had put his shoes on the open door of the oven again. The envelope with ‘Past Due’ on it was gone.
“Did you have a good day at school?” Alice asks giving him a plate with mac and cheese. Thankfully, they did not turn off the water, and the faucet still worked. Water clinked with ice cubes in his glass.
“It was ok, I guess.” Andy thought about the kids who teased him about the bags on his feet. He waited until after his mother thanked God for the food. Secretly, he wished for something better than mac and cheese. This was the third night they had the same thing. Alice was still looking for a job.
Later, lying in bed, Andy tried to pray. He couldn’t. If God cared so much for them, why did he let them suffer? Through the thin walls, he heard his mother praying.
The next morning, before Andy ate his cereal, there was a knock. Stepping to the door, Alice answered it. It was a deputy. Alice knew it was coming. The bank had extended her credit for several months. She stepped out onto the little deck.
“I’m sorry. I hate this part of the job.” Deputy Patrick said, handing Alice a piece of paper.
Alice smiled a sad smile. “It’s alright. I just wish they had waited until after Christmas. Know where I can find a job?”
“Actually, I do. There is a crusty old guy. Other side of town. He’s looking for a housekeeper. Doesn’t pay much but there’s a small house in back. I could put in a good word for you if you like?”
“That would be great. I’ve been looking for a job for a while.” Alice gave Deputy Patrick her phone number. “How long before I have to move?” She asks, thinking of living in her car.
“I can hold them off until Monday if that will help you out?” Deputy Patrick said.
“Yes, thank you,” Alice said, reaching out her hand. He shook it.
When she came back inside, Andy saw his mother’s tear-stained face and the paper in her hand. He had heard the muffled conversation. “How long do we have?” He asks, no longer interested in cereal. His stomach twisted into knots.
“Monday.” Alice said, trying to put up a brave front. Andy swallowed. A week from Christmas. She tried to smile. “One good thing is most of this stuff is junk.” She swept her hand over all the furniture. “Come on, if you’re through with breakfast, you can help me pack.” Andy followed her into the bedroom. Alice pulled two suitcases out of the closet. “Come on, it’ll be an adventure.”
Andy hit the old suitcase with his fist. “How can you say that? Everything bad happens to us. Not the Kennington’s. We’re going to have to live on the street.” Andy set down on the bed and sobbed.
Alice said nothing. She set down beside her son on the bed. Hugging him, she let him cry.
“Honey.” She said after his tears stopped. “We never know what God has in store for us.”
“I know, but I wish He would tell us.” He said.
“I know I do too. But then we wouldn’t have to have faith, would we?” Alice said. “We were looking for a place to live when we found this one.” She stood up. “Help me pack, ok.” She tousled his hair
“Ok.” He grinned at her.
At noon, they went through the house one more time. With no word from deputy Patrick, Alice thought they might have to go to the shelter. She pulled the mac and cheese from the refrigerator and put it on the stove. Her phone buzzed. She picked it up. Hitting a button, she answered. “Hello.”
“I understand you have a kid?” The voice sounded old and angry.
“Yes, I have a son,” Alice said carefully.
“Does he get into things?”
“No, he’s very well behaved.” She was almost to the point of ringing off.
“Be here at three.” The line went dead.
“Hello, hello.” She stared at the phone. “Be where at three?”
“That was strange.” Alice said, putting her phone on the table.
“Who was that, mom?” Andy asks, a spoonful of food halfway to his mouth.
“I don’t know.” The phone buzzed again. Alice picked it up.
“Look, how can I be there if you don’t tell me the address?”
“I guess he called you?” A male voice said.
“I’m sorry. Who is this?” She asks. Her son looked at her.
“Deputy Patrick. We met this morning.”
“Of course, just had a strange phone call.”
“Let me guess. Gave you the time for your interview. Didn’t give his name or address.”
“Right on all counts.”
He laughed. “That’s him. Bert Triune. His address is 15390 Sycamore.”
“Thank you.” She said, feeling relieved.
“One suggestion. Don’t be early and don’t be late. He is a grouchy old goat. But he’s fair and honest.” Deputy Patrick said.
But she was late. By two minutes. Alice didn’t know it until she went out to warm the car. One tire was flat. Andy helped her change it, but still they had to hurry to make it on time.
Driving slowly, they searched the house numbers. Alice stopped the car at a set of massive iron gates. Open-mouthed, they stared at the enormous mansion. The expanse of lawn, the trees, the circle drive. It all seemed like a dream. “Wow mom, look at this house.” Andy said, staring at the mansion. “I’ll bet the living room is bigger than our whole house.”
Jumping out, Alice hit the buzzer on the gatepost.
“Yes?” The voice sounded old.
“Alice Griffith, I’m here to apply for the housekeeper’s job.”
“Your late.” The voice sounded gruff.
“Sorry flat tire.” She said, her heart in her throat. If she didn’t get this job, they would have to go to the shelter.
“Well, don’t just stand there in the cold. Come in come in.”
“Be right there.” She hurried back to the car. “Isn’t this exciting?” Alice said. Not feeling excited, but depressed. The gate swung open.
She parked in the circle drive. The house was three stories. It loomed over them. Concrete steps led to two massive front doors. They gleamed in the afternoon sunshine.
“Bring the boy.” The elderly man shouted. He shut the door.
Leaving the car, Alice and Andy entered the house. After the sunny afternoon, it felt as if they were entering a dungeon. It took them a few seconds for their eyes to adjust.
The elderly man was standing a few feet away. He stared at Andy. “Do you play chess?”
“He…” Alice began.
“I didn’t ask you. I ask him.” The man said, leaning on his cane. “Speak up, boy, do you, or don’t you?”
“I…I’d be willing to learn.” Andy said. His face red.
“I’ll bet you would. Ok I eat on time. I ask you to make my bed every day. Menu is stuck to the cabinet door in the kitchen. Living quarters round back, you can park your car there. I don’t like to be disturbed before nine. Oh, and the deputy said you’re a churchgoing woman. Sunday mornings leave my breakfast in the microwave. Questions.”
“I…I’m hired.” Alice said. She couldn’t believe her ears. “Don’t you want to interview me?”
“Just did.” He entered a room and closed the door.
Andy looked at his mother, bewildered. Alice stared at the closed door, open-mouthed.
“I…I guess we better go see where we’re going to live.” Back in the car, they drove around to the house, a smaller version of the big house. Andy looked at his mother, his face creased with worry. “What if I can’t learn chess?”
She patted him on the thigh. “You’ll do fine.” She said with more confidence than she felt. “Come on. Let’s go see our new place.”
The house in back had a view of the pool and gardens. A row of huge trees would shade it in the summer. Large windows in front and glass doors in back let in sunlight. Three bedrooms, kitchen living room bath and a half all on one floor. The walls showed wear, and the paint was dull. The house was chilly. Alice found a thermostat and set the heat at 79. The utility room held the furnace a washer and dryer. There were shelves with unused cans of paint.
Exploring the house Andy said. “Mom, this is a miracle. This closet is bigger than my bedroom.”
Together, they thanked God for his care. Alice and Andy carried in their suitcase and emptied the car. At 4:30, they entered the back door of the mansion. Alice looked at the menu. “Bacon sandwiches with tomato and plenty of mayo. Two glasses of ice water. One after the other. After the evening meal, you are dismissed for the night.”
“That’s not much of a dinner.” Andy said.
Alice sighed. “I know, but if that’s what he wants. That’s what he gets.”
That next Friday, Alice was polishing the furniture on the second floor when she heard Bert yell. “You rat.” She hurried down the stairs. She halted at the open door to Bert Triune's study. “You beat me. How did you do that? You little rat.”
Triune was leaning on his cane, staring at the chessboard. A grinning Andy looked up at him.
“Is everything alright.” Alice ask looking from one to the other.
“No.” Bert said. “Your son had the audacity to beat me. Me. And then he yells checkmate.” He started setting up the board again. “I demand a rematch.” Jumping to his feet, Andy helped setup the chess pieces. Smiling, Alice went back to work. That night when she went in to say goodnight to Andy, he said. “Mom, I didn’t really beat him. He let me win.”
“I know, honey. He’s a lonely old man. I think it gave him a thrill to let you win.”
Christmas morning should be joyful for most children. To Andy, it was just another day. His mother gave him a bag of candy and a new pair of shoes. Even at that, she stretched her budget. Andy gave her a card and a small necklace. Pooling their money, they gave Bert Triune a long-sleeved shirt. He came down to breakfast and looked at the brightly wrapped package on the table. Picking it up, he looked at the name tag.
“I had a wife and a son.” He said. “I was in my office one day making money. She came in to speak to me. I got distracted. Had a meeting at three. She left.”
Alice watched him but didn’t interrupt, feeling there was more to the story. Tears coursed down the elderly man’s face. “That’s the last time I saw them alive. They were killed in an automobile accident that afternoon. My son was the same age as your son. Thank you for the gift.” He rose from his seat and headed for the door of the kitchen. Her eyes were moist.
Alice said, “Mr. Triune, aren’t you going to eat your breakfast?” He turned back to her, his expression one of a broken man. “No.” He said harshly. “No.’ He said, his voice softer. “You can have the next three days off.” He held up the gift. Thank you.”
“What about your meals?” Alice said.
“I’ll make do. Enjoy the time with your son.” The door swung closed behind him.
Andy was playing a computer game when his mother came in to the house.
“Did he like his gift?” He said, smiling.
“I don’t know. He didn’t open it.” She told him what Bert Triune said.
Clucking the unopened present, Bert went to his study and closed the door. Seated, he slid open the top drawer on his desk. The desk was a gift from his wife just before her death. He fingered the baseball card his son gave him. Laying the card a safe distance away, he buried his face in his hands. His sobs racked his whole body. He stayed that way for a while. Reaching into a bottom drawer, he removed a photo album and lay it in front of him. Opening it, he looked at the photos of his wedding day, his son as a baby. The photo of the three of them on his son’s 10th birthday.
Andy took him aback. He looked so much like his son; he did a double take. Andy and his son could have been brothers. Twenty years. Had it been twenty years? When the police came to his office the day they died, it tore his heart out. All the joy was gone from his life. All that remained was sorrow. Playing chess with Andy was like playing chess with his son.
About 3 PM on December 26, Alice answered the door. A bundled-up man stood on the steps.
Smiling, he said. “Here you go.” In his hand, he held out a small key fob.
“What?” Behind him in the driveway set a shiny new Chevy Equinox.
“I’m sorry. He didn’t tell you? Bert Triune came in this morning soon as we opened. Didn’t haggle. Pointed to the Equinox behind me on the showroom floor. Said. “I want that car. Deliver it to my housekeeper this afternoon. Whipped out his checkbook and paid for it.”
“But…but he…but…he can’t do that.” Alice stammered.
“He can and he did.” The man shivered. “Maam do you mind if I step inside? It’s awful cold out here today.”
“Of course, please come in.” Alice stepped back, allowing the man to enter.
Andy, painting his bedroom, heard muffled voices. Finishing, he came into the living room just as the man from the dealership started their old car. He had taken time to wash his hands and was now drying them. He ran to the window.
“Mom, mom he’s taking our car,” Andy said.
Drying her eyes, she said. “Yes, I know.” She handed her son an envelope.
Opening it he saw the message Bert Triune had penned that morning:
Dear friends
I hope you don’t get offended by me calling you friends. I have not received a gift from anyone in years. When my wife and son were killed in an automobile accident, I shut myself off from the world. I sold my company and isolated myself from those outside.
In one short week, you have opened the world to me. Please accept this automobile as a gift from a lonely old man.
Merry Christmas.
Bert Triune
That was the beginning of a change in Bert. He attended church with Andy and Alice. A few weeks later, he gave his heart to Christ. No one clapped louder than he did when Andy walked across the stage to receive his high school diploma.
One morning, he didn’t come down for breakfast. Knocking on his door and receiving no response, Alice found him in bed. He had died during the night. And that’s the story of how Alice and Andy became the wealthiest people in the city. Bert saw to that in his will.
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Shirley Smothers
10/12/2024Such a sweet story. Love wins in the end. Congratulations on Short Story Star of the Day.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Cheryl Ryan
10/12/2024It pays to be nice. All it takes for Alice and Andy to be rich is a card and a necklace that costs little. This goes to show the importance of gifting and the weight of appreciation attached to it.
Thank you for sharing!
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Darrell Case
10/12/2024Gerald
Thank you. I hope things are going well for you. It is always a pleasure to hear from you.
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Joel Kiula
10/11/2024A satisfying story. Always have faith and keep going forward. Many things happen on the way as we go along.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Help Us Understand What's Happening
Denise Arnault
07/24/2024For many, life is not easy, and it unfortunately does not always turn out okay. This story shows that, if you have faith and never give up, life can work out sometimes. I love a good ending! Thanks for the story.
ReplyHelp Us Understand What's Happening
Darrell Case
07/26/2024Denise
Thank you.your right. Life can be very difficult and sometime we don't understand. Thanks for reading it.
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