

THE LOVE TALES

 

Locker {3}

The waitress brought coffee for Jack, tea for Benjamin. After she left them with the tab and a smile, Jack spoke.

“We have ourselves a situation here, Mr. Ben.”

“Indeed. It’s quite a pickle, I’d say.”

They were silent as they stirred and sipped their drinks.

“Mr. Ben., by legal rights, your stuff is my stuff. I don’t want your stuff.”

“Why, that’s very decent of you, Jack. Very noble.”

“Except I am out $850. I’d be willing to walk away if I could get the equivalent of $850 worth of something you might have in there and then we could shake hands and say adios.”

Of course, Jack also knew he’d turn in his key after 72 hours to ostensibly take what he wanted from the unit. Then it’d be up to management to deal with the old man.

Benjamin Thought about Jack’s proposition. The unit was full of valuable items, a veritable trove of treasures, to Benjamin’s mind.

“I believe, yes, that can be arranged. Of course, we must have Charlotte’s agreement. She has final word, always has.”

“Of course.”

“Well, I can go shopping afterwards if you’d care to get on with it now. We’ve taken up enough of your time, I think.”

“You know, Mr. Ben., you’re a nice man.”

“I’m a blessed man, Jack, and I know it.”

The two men stared into the reopened unit. Where to begin. Jack had removed some of the boxes and placed them outside the locker to have better access to its contents.

“I’d feel more comfortable, Mr. Ben., asking you what you think you could part with.”

“Hmm, it might be easier if I point out the things most dear to my wife and me.”

“All right, then.”

“Here, Charlotte made this in a pottery class. She always tried hiding it, but I wouldn’t part with it for the world.”

Jack watched Benjamin Pluck a filthy, cracked lamp base from the corner of the unit.

Oh boy, thought Jack, this isn’t going to be easy.

“Sure, Mr. Ben. That’s fine.”

“Well, now, let’s see . . .”

“Hello?” The two men turned to see who’d addressed them.

“Hey there. Name’s Henry Jones. I own this facility. Just checking to see how things are going . . . wait, Mr. Channel, is that you? My Lord, we’ve been trying to find you for months.”

“I’m afraid I can’t place you, sir. And just how is it you think you know me?”

“Benjamin, this . . . was your unit. You rented it to store some things . . . your wife had just passed and you needed to downsize your living quarters.”

Jack jerked his head to look at Benjamin. Benjamin Looked stunned, as though he’d been slapped.

“No, no, you must be mistaken. My wife is alive. She’s . . .”

Benjamin Started to buckle. Jack grabbed his arms and helped guide him out of the unit and into fresh air.

“You all right, Mr. Ben.?”

“I should sit down, I think.”

“Should I call for an ambulance?” Mr. Ben placed a hand on Benjamin’s shoulder.

“Yes,” Jack said.

“No, no,” Benjamin shook his head. “That won’t be necessary.”

Jack turned to Mr. Ben, “Do you have some water?”

“Sure, I’ll be right back.”

“A sherry would be better,” Benjamin Called after him.

“Mr. Ben., we have us a situation here.” Jack said, after Henry had left.

“No. I do, I’m afraid. I’d forgotten . . .”

Benjamin’s voice trailed off. Jack sat quietly and let the man think.

Henry arrived with two cups, one with water, the other with whiskey. He offered both. Benjamin Gratefully drank both.

“Thank you, Henry.”

“You remember me now.”

“I do, yes.”

“I’m so sorry . . .”

“Don’t be. I’m just a foolish old man who let a memory get the better of him.” A tear escaped from Benjamin’s eye and trailed down his face.

Jack stood and said to Frank, “A word?”

The two men walked a short distance away.

“I’m going to refund you your money.”

“That’s not what I . . . well, yes, thank you, I appreciate it. What to do with Mr. Channel.”

“All I can think is social services. I believe his wife was his only family. I’ll check again. I’d like to be wrong.”

Jack took a deep breath.

“It’s not much, Mr. Ben., but you should be comfortable. There’s a towel I left for you near the sink. If there’s anything else you need, let it wait until morning.”

Jack grinned at the old man. It had taken some arm-twisting to get him to wear some of Jack’s clothes. All Benjamin’s clothing in the locker had seen better days and, at a minimum, needed laundering.

“There is one thing, if I might trouble you.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“I’m grateful to you, Jack, for taking me in. I’ve been a bother, I know. Now that my Charlotte . . .”

Benjamin’s lip began quivering.

“Want me to sit with you a while?”

“If you would.”

Benjamin Settled himself into the couch, and covered himself with the extra comforter Jack had found in the closet, the one his daughter had outgrown. It was covered with pink and purple ponies.

“Tomorrow we’ll sort out your locker. You can keep whatever’s important to you here while we get you settled . . . wherever.”

“Without Charlotte, none of it has any importance. Much like me.”

“Now, look, I don’t want you talking that way or thinking like that. It’s been a long day and you’ve had a shock. I want you to look me in the eye and promise me you won’t do anything foolish. You don’t want to bite the hand that fed you spaghetti, now, do you?”

“You’ve been very kind, Jack. No, I wouldn’t do that to you.”

“Tomorrow’s a new day, Mr. Ben. Think you can close your eyes now?”

“Yes, thank you.”

“Let’s get some sleep then.”

When Jack awoke the next morning, he’d slept so heavily, it took time for the prior day’s events to catch up with him. He yawned, grateful it was Sunday and he didn’t have to rush to work. Coffee.

He checked to see if Benjamin was still asleep, and groaned. The couch was empty and looked barely slept in.

“Damn it, Benjamin.”

Jack arrived at the locker and saw the door was up. He wasn’t surprised.

“Hey, Mr. Ben.?”

He took the same path he had before to find the back of the unit. There sat Benjamin on the lawn chair, though there was no sign of . . .

“Where’s . . .” Jack gestured to the chair. He was at a loss for what to call the Charlotte mannequin.

“Good morning, Jack. We held a cremation last night.”

“What? Where? How did you manage that?”

“It was the only way I could really say goodbye. Jack, I let her go."

Jack shook his head.

“I’ll be. Well, I guess we can talk about it later. You tired? Want to go back to my place . . .”

“No, I’m fine. Better.”