Dream Dark Stories

Tag: wallet

  • A Wallet Missed Pt. 4

    by: M. R. Vega



    The car, loaded with an excessive amount, of an impressive array of hard and soft-covered books, had Lucy and Harold nearing a range of concerns that brought an unspoken regret, especially within Luce. She was so fueled with a fit of anger, a riling and fileting type of pitiful rage when looking at it. It was a vexing thought Luce that brought the need to make him pay, but feeling the car wane and a lack of an efficient speed had her shooting a concerned and almost peevish glance over to Harold. He now found himself clenching his teeth and whispering in tongues at the car, gripping the steering wheel with a mercilessness that he’d hope have them back to the small apartment safely. He’d pay for the damages to the axel and likely find himself needing new rims but that was aside the point. His outrageous behaviour and near laughable disregard for a collection he’d even found pride in seeing day after day growing with sheer tenacity. He regrettably erased that and saw it only right to repay what was taken away and all for the stupid wallet. But then again that wallet meant something more than the both of them, but that wouldn’t be enough to state so nonchalantly when Lucy would inquire to explain himself. How would he simply and with a resolute explanation provide ample details as to what the wallet; or what was within that wallet was so damn important.

    He could see himself later that evening nearing midnight sighing heavily with his shit-eating remorse at the corner of a cowering smile as he inched slowly releasing what it all meant that the wallet was never lost. He shook the idea away, then thought over a cone of Jamoca Almond Fudge would perhaps suffice, though he shook that away as well and all this within seconds of each idea, disregarding Luce beside him. Not realizing she had noticed his shaking head and pained look cropping the profile of his face. She wouldn’t ask though, knew better to keep her lips tight and unmoving as he worked through the internal fracas he’d likely overcome. ‘Gosh, what can it be that’s messing him up, can’t be the weight of what we’re carrying, least it shouldn’t be’ she thought and hesitantly looked out the window. She shied away from the shaking head of Harold’s hoping food would be something on his mind but expected they’d likely end up just carrying the books up flights of concrete steps to yet again start her dear collection.

    While she gazed over the old city and its river walk in the distance, let out a small sigh and inhaled quietly so as not to distract Harold. Instead tried to order the books in her head. She knew alphabetically would be outrageous as there was nearly an equal amount of both the soft and hard covers and she preferred an ‘Ordo ab Chao’ style knowing the chaotic realm it insured brought a more steady ground to her mind. With a smile settling on her maw, she’d already determined the books would be flush as best as possible but have little regard for what was and wasn’t read. She had a plethora of markers and tabs to mark each one and if she wanted to mitigate a minor order she’d color code them afterward.

    Harold cleared his throat, knowing what to say, figuring out where to take her in his anxious relinquishing of the secret meanings behind the wallet, and took a left at Northern Blvd. Lucy came to from her ordering of the books and asked where they were going as her stomach gripped at her spine in hopes for something to ingest and devour. ‘Lota Burger sound good?’ and the smile he felt echo from Lucy gave him the answer he expected and pulled into the parking lot of their favorite stop for grub. She quickly jumped out of the car before he even had the keys out of the ignition and smiled at him through the car’s front window ushering him to be quick and get to her before she opened the door. He listened. Removing keys and himself while being sure to lock the car up he followed suit in jumping over to her with a matching smile and grabbed at the door for her prior to laying a kiss on her forehead. She patted at his butt pocket and pinched him gently and they both walked in together holding hands and immediately went to the cashier. Already knowing the menu by heart they both issued their favorite numbers and size. Harold paid quickly, they filled up their drinks with the cool sweet tea they had both reveled for since childhood and found a booth for two. After settling down, sticking straws into their cups, they smiled at one another and Harold took a large swig debating how exactly to open up the floor to the topic of his wallet. He breathed in, turned his head, let out a swift and heavy sigh, smiled at her with endearing compassion and started to open up.

    ‘I assume you have questions, if not a myriad of them with sub-references and notions to the meanings of what I’m about to tell you, all I ask is give me time and whenever your curiosity is at the brim of your tongue let me have it and I’ll answer, as quickly and with as much to the whole as I know for myself.’ He sighed, feeling a small amount of weight at the pit of his stomach, and waited for a nod or their ticket number to be mentioned behind their table but his ears only met silence but the hum and incessant sizzling and chatter of the restaurant. He continued ‘Now, please don’t laugh, because I mean what I say, at least I know, because of what I’ve seen for myself and will do, like I said, what I can to show you that truth. It’s not the wallet per se, it’s actually the coin that’s inside of it. You’ve likely seen me twirl it between my fingers when you’ve gone so deep into your readings in the past, but that was always frowned upon and it’s why I buried it into the wallet, even made a small and near secret pouch to hold it safely. But it’s magick. Where the magick stems from, what it is, that I don’t know but it’s what made that possible.’ While finishing that phrase he nodded toward the car and alluded to the books that awaited their new home. Lucy smiled, holding back from the smug feeling she could feel creeping up from below, and waited for Harold to continue but the order was shouted out to them and he quickly bolted to the counter bringing the piping hot seasoned fries and steaming burgers to the table.

  • A Wallet Missed Pt. 3

    A Wallet Missed Pt. 3 by: M. R. Vega


    Lucy was grinding at her teeth aggressively enough that Harold looked at her with a near neurotic assumption that it had to do with him, surely he was right as to the reason they were steering to the bookstore at 75 mph down the freeway. Back at the apartment, there was the haunting reminder of broken piles of books and likely still flapping pages with the A/C still on. He knew he was the ass in the picture and anyone looking in from a scope would shame his behaviours as well as scream for Lucy to kick him to the curb. But, there was something there, of course, the obvious want in bringing her collection back to life, but something about that damn wallet. Such a cheap wallet, Lucy only remembering there was an amount near two hundred dollars if that, and all the trouble tears and sweat didn’t amount to a cheap, velcro-clad wallet. It didn’t track and while still stewing in Lucy’s mind she found that the grinding of her teeth kept her from jabbing her nails into Harold’s face. Luckily, Harold didn’t need to know and would never come to find that what she wanted was to rip him like he did her collection, pluck the facial hair and the chispas at the nape of his neck. However, Lucy was gracious and calmer than her sister and mother and would refrain from having the cops called on her, at least that’s what she swore to herself growing up. It didn’t mean the thought never crossed her mind.

    Nearing the bookstore, they saw a lack of cars parked nearby and hoped the store was still open. Harold crossed his chest and looked up at the mirror praying he’d have the opportunity to at least pay back the minor fortune tonight if the store had the ones he knew Lucy was checking off in her mind. The fact was true, the list was getting large, large enough that Lucy secretly hoped they had multiple employees to help bring the books to the car, and at that thought she sped up and skidded into the lot, tossing the keys at Harold and telling him to keep up. Once she had her legs out of the car she nearly pounced like a feline and ran to the door and to her delight the cool air of the door swinging open brought a jubilation she wasn’t sure would be felt for months. Looking at the hours of operations that hung near the entrance she realized she’d have less than an hour to do her spree and grinned maniacally with a near peevish glee of retribution back at Harold, he knew this smile he caught meant ‘you’re carrying it all’.

    He shamefully nodded at the smile knowing what it meant and quickened his steps keeping his hands ready to catch whatever was collected from the frenzied woman he awoke. She took him to the classics starting with Homer and her favorites of the stoics, then came Bronte, Milton, Goethe, Plathe, Morrison, King, Vonnegut, King again, (more than she thought would be available), some Palahnuik, Bradbury, short story anthologies, Poe, Twain, Muir, Dick, Perreti, Sagan, Kundera, Alexie, Atwood, Shelley, O’Connor, Lee, Angelou, Hurston, and she had to pause and collect her thoughts, knowing she wasn’t being fair and grabbed some Dekker, Ellison, and Coben.

    She then cackled like a banshee, having the staff that was left in the store, looking at one another with anxious apprehensions as they shuffled about, wondering how would this girl pay for all of this. The cashier at the front was rolling an eye thinking there was no way the man following behind and quickly stacking book after book didn’t seem to have enough. He was sweating with a nervousness that was certainly understood by the cashier and that of the staff as they were sure they’d all have to put every book back within their time left before closing and the plans tonight were for the bar, not reshelving over a hundred books so far.

    Finally, Lucy stopped, bent over to catch a breath and told Harold to find some graphic novels to round up the final hull, Harold grinned and grabbed some classics of his teenhood and a few newer artists that he’d recently been following on the ‘gram’. He then grabbed a favorite of his; Gaiman and Harris and sheepishly walked up to the cashier with a shit-eating grin and asked for it to be all tallied up with a near-guilty chortle and squeak. The look of anguish and ridicule he was met with had him take a step back but the cashier obliged. After finally counting each one with a beep and scan, they had over 130+ novels, anthologies, and graphic novels, the total was nearly $6,400. Harold showed nothing but assured confidence and whipped out a velcro-clad wallet. The cashier almost laughed but there it was the exact total. Harold confidently pulled out the total, almost as though he knew he’d have enough and with whatever was remaining he left on the counter after asking the staff if they’d mind helping get the books to the car. None of them denied the request as most of the staff were aghast with a shocking horror that there was enough to pay for such an astonishing hull.

    Lucy though was nearly floored, she knew, not knew, was certain that there were only 200 dollars in that wallet the other day. Nothing more at least, and nowhere near the thousands he’d just shelled out. Her mouth hung open for a moment as she watched the man who’d made the promise and showed he meant to keep it carry the first large pile to the car while he asked for her to unlock the trunk. She shook her head and closed her mouth, still astonished and perplexed at the oddity of the cheap wallet and needed to understand what the hell just happened and how, after finishing up loading the car, there were 130+ books being driven back to the apartment. How?

  • A Wallet Missed Pt. 2


    A Wallet Missed Pt. 2 by: M. R. Vega


    Harold had nearly stripped the apartment as though the two bedrooms, living space, and bathroom were a renovation. Lucy had left, taking the keys with her after cursing at him while he grabbed all the items from the boxes and closet still unpacked and rummaged through every orifice and nook. Whether it was a purse, backpack, gift box, jewelry case, or anything that he could envision holding that wallet he’d peek through.

    However, now he sat defeated. He grabbed at the hairs laying against the nape of his neck and tugged angrily, plucking at himself like a peeved gardener does at weeds, and continued to do so until he felt blood trickling down his neck. Once that dripping was flowing he got up shaking his head. He’d already pushed the one person away that mattered most to him, the whole of his family was either gone or dead, and he found not peace but destruction to be his vice. Still feeling the trickling droplets slide down his sweating neck, starting to feel the burn from his self-mutilation he walked to the bathroom sulking and crying at the foolish man he’d become in a matter of the few hours he’d wrestled with this dilemma. Once in there, he gazed at the mirror, eyes bloodshot, and tear-soaked, seeing the blood start to stain the neckline of his shirt he started to mockingly laugh. Almost going about to punch the mirror, he held back his fist and shook a finger at himself, coming to terms that anyone watching what he was doing would call the cops, he took to the porcelain seat. He cried for a moment and in that innocuous moment of complete but coincidental randomosity flushed the toilet. With the lid closed the sound was muted but at that crucial pulse of a moment he heard a soft fabric thud to the ground.

    He quickly turned, almost hopping with excitement and crouched reaching behind the toilet at the black wallet and pulling it to his chest sighed with great relief. He went to call Lucy, thinking of how he’d protest and convince her to their apartment. After crushing her noteworthy collection of wondrous reads, why would she come back? He asked himself silently and sent a text instead of begging her back with a call that read simply ‘I FOUND the wallet, come back, let’s get you to the book stores and I’ll replace em all. I’m sorry…and I’ll show you the wallet and explain my idiotic and infantile behaviour.’

    After pressing send on his phone he waited anxiously but with a convincing to himself that she wouldn’t be stepping inside this place again. Hoping he’d hear a door close from the car they shared or hear her breathing a heavy sigh through the open window of the front of the apartment. However, he was astonished to find that she was sitting out there the entire time, just waiting. Her favorite wicker chair that she’d wished and jokingly begged for months ago was adorned with a cushion that she now used as her support sitting on the concrete step of their second-floor apartment. Luckily it was an odd and quiet night so only a few of the neighbours were either at the complex or even cared to open a door or walk about the area. This meant that she had all the time to listen to his fit throwing, rolling an eye at the idiocy, snickering and sticking a tongue our at the manchild behaviours she’d come to see from brothers plenty. Until today sadly, this was a first for her in being witness to his stupidity but she shrugged and figured, ‘that’s love, putting up with the stupid.’ Oddly there was a sense within that told her not only would he confess and relinquish so much that he’d never alluded to before, but tonight was going to be something of a special night.

    And deep down she knew she’d be cleaning the shelves of the two book stores the lame town had available and she was starting to get antsy waiting for that text to come.

    Upon finding the text at the same time Howard stuck his head out, she grimaced and then gave him a meek smile with a hand out, obviously awaiting the fated wallet to be placed in her hand. Howard grumbled a peevish and embarrassed apology looking her deep in the eyes and set the wallet firmly in her hand.

    “Let’s go.” She said and they mozied down to the car with keys and wallet in hand.