Found

I don’t remember where I was before I woke in this prison. It was dark, and I could barely move. Sounds were muffled and I couldn’t make out any of the words. At random moments I would see flashes of light, the voices became more distinct, and I planned.

Whenever I could, I would try to free myself a little more. Each time the lights came on, my invisible bonds would loosen for a few seconds. I knew that soon I could make my escape.

The day was like any other, except for the wind. It was a warm spring day, but the wind was coming in like a lion. I would hear it’s wailing even through my prison walls. At the height of the crescendo, the light flashed and I could feel the wind pulling at me. I fought to free myself, giving in to the pull of the gusts swirling around me. Just as I feel I couldn’t break free, I was suddenly adrift on the breeze.

Floating, twisting, drifting on the thermals, flying above the street. I could see my warden, chasing after me, never able to come close enough to grab me. I was free and would never be held captive again. My destiny was now mine to design. I would choose where I would go, how long I would stay.

“Damn! That was one I wanted to keep for Nickie. He would have loved to track it online.”

Stopping for his morning paper, a single dollar bill, caught in a sudden gust of wind, was pulled from his hand as he tried to pay the news stand vendor. It was special. Stamped along the edges with a website address, anyone finding it could track it’s movements by submitting the bill’s serial number.

The man was holding onto the dollar, planning to give it to his nephew, now he would have to actually get the kid a birthday present.

He dug another one out of his wallet, paying the vendor then headed to the subway to catch the train to his office. Pulling his coat tighter around his body, leaning into the wind. The man glanced back one more time, the dollar lost among the other city trash. He wasn’t going to chase it down, digging through rubbish in the gutter. It was only a dollar.

The blustery day was making the other commuters bundled up against the cold too. Coats pulled close, heads down, walking into the wind. Another man had more on his mind than fighting the weather. He was working up his nerve to propose marriage to the girl of his dreams. He wanted it to be special, something she would always remember. The prefect gesture of love she would share with her friends and family. A tale they both would embarrass their children by it’s telling. A story their parents would tell around the table at holidays. The stuff traditions were made of, memories passed down for generations.

He rejected the sentimental, down on one knee proposal. There would be no grand public asking over a sport’s arena jumbo tron. He also didn’t want to hide away either. When he popped the question he wanted to be somewhere where they could celebrate her agreeing to marry him. They would order champagne, they would laugh and hug, they would kiss in front of cheering witnesses.

They had been seeing each other for more than a year, and he knew she was the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. She was beautiful, smart, funny, and she loved being around other people. Even on bad days, she always tried to be kind and helpful. There was always a smile on her face, and a laugh in her voice.

All these thoughts were flitting through his head, distracting him from where he was going. Head down, he tripped over the curb, nearly falling. Righting himself, he looked around to see if anyone else had seen his blunder, listening for laughter. A flash of white and green caught his eye. Crumpled against the brick wall of the building facing this street, was an old dollar bill. Reaching down to pick it up before the wind snatched it way, the man smoothed out the bill as an idea flicker in his mind.

Holding it closer to read the red printing along its edge, the man smiled, knowing this would be the perfect way to propose.

His girl was a waitress at one of the city’s most popular eateries. A few times a week he would dine there, just so they could see each other. He would ask the hostess to seat him in her section. They would pretend to not be a couple. He would flirt, she would flirt back. She would see that he got extra big helpings of food, he would leave her outlandish tips. Sometimes he would write love notes on her ticket.

On special occasions, he would fold one of the tip dollars into an origami piece of art. He had left her cranes for good luck, flowers for happiness, butterflies for beauty, and dragons for protections. Once, when she told him she had a new kitten, he folded a dollar into a cat just to see one of her bright smiles.

This dollar was a sign. He would fold it into a ring, leave it on her tip tray tonight along with a note on the meal ticket. She would read the note, see the ring, smile one of her beautiful smiles, throw her arms around his neck, kissing him in-between saying yes over and over.

Just the mental image of that possibility made him smile for the rest of the day. At work he couldn’t concentrate, using his time instead to make the origami ring and figure out the perfect words to write on the ticket. It all had to be perfect.
Calling head, he reserved his normal table, knowing she would be the server tonight. Before leaving his office, he went into the men’s room to wash his face and brush his teeth. He wouldn’t have time to go home first, but he wanted his breath fresh if there was to be any kissing.

A flower kiosk on the corner was an attractive distraction, but a bouquet would give away his surprise. There would be time enough later for flowers, lots of flowers. Sitting down, he was too nervous to read the menu, telling he to just bring his usual order. By now, she was familiar enough with him to be able to order his favorite meals.

They went through their usual mating dance of flirting between the salad and entrée courses. Their hands touched briefly as she took his empty plates from the table, and again when she brought him the biggest piece of chocolate cake. He made a joke to show her he recognized her loving gesture.

Once he was finished with his meal, he brought the small white box he had found in the office supply closet. It had been just the right size to hold the ring he had made. He couldn’t keep still, waiting anxiously for her to return with the check. Their fingertips brushed one last time as he reached up to take the money tray just as she reached down to place it on the table.

She must have suspected something was about to happen, frowning for the first time he could remember. He shrugged it off, knowing that smile would soon be back. He didn’t see as she stopped short of the hostess’ stand, looking back over her shoulder, with her frown deepening.

Reaching into his jacket’s breast pocket, he took out a slip of paper and his pen. Reading over the note he had composed earlier at his desk.

“You would make me the happiest man on earth if you would grant my wish to lety me serve you the rest of my life. Will you marry me?”

Laying the ticket back on the tray with money for the meal, he placed the folded ring on top and pushed the tray to the edge of the table. Then he waited for her to return.

Her smile was back and he breathed a small sigh of relief, watching her face as the realization of the significance of his note became evident. She picked up the ring, then read his note.

Defying restaurant policy, she sat down in the chair across the table from him. All color draining from her face. The note in one hand, the ring in the other. He sat looking at her, his eyes wide, nodding what he hoped was in agreement with her.

Her mouth kept opening as if to speak, only to shut again with no sound. She could only shake her head.

“I don’t understand,” she stammered.

“What don’t you understand,” he said, hoping to see that smile again. “I’m asking you to be my wife.”

“I can’t marry you, I don’t know you!”

“You’re kidding right? Of course you know me. We’ve been seeing each other for more than a year!”

“Seeing each other? Now, who’s joking. The only place we see each other is here! You are a regular customer and I’m your regular server. We aren’t seeing each other, we haven’t been dating! Are you crazy?”

“But you’re so nice to me, you smile all the time, you laugh at my jokes.”

“That’s what I do with everyone. I’m trying to be nice so you’ll leave me a good tip.”

“No, that’s not right!”

“I don’t know where you got the idea that we were a couple, but we’re not. I’m not going to marry you, I won’t even wait on you again… ever! I’ll get someone else to bring back your change.”

Standing up, she turned her back and walked away, leaving him stunned and speechless. He could see her talking to the hostess, pointing back at him and handing her the tray. A few seconds later the hostess came to his table, laying the money tray on the table with his change and the paper ring.

Leaving the change on the tray, he picked up the ring and left the restaurant. Outside the wind had turned to a cold drizzle. Turning the corner, he saw a homeless woman sitting cross-legged with her back against the building, a tin bowl on the sidewalk in front of her.

As he walked by the panhandler, the man dropped the dollar bill ring into the bow among the other wadded paper money and coins. At least one woman would welcome his gift tonight he thought as he walked away into the darkness.

(1781)