Honestly…

More often than not I’m an honest person, and maybe a bit too honest at that. There are plenty of times where I can be thoroughly exhausted by form and diplomacy and simply spit out the thoughts in my head. Naturally, people get offended. Sometimes it’s rightfully so, and other times they’re just being too sensitive. It’s never the same reason every time, however I’m just too tired to care.

There are perks of being honest though. Much of my life has been filled with observations of cheating paying off, whether it’s cheating on tests, or a spouse (not my story to tell, but an interesting one nonetheless), what have you. There is a budding culture of “it’s not wrong, if you’re not caught.” I abhor this belief I see in my contemporaries. I’m not perfect, but I keep a good handle on things.

For example, yesterday included a trip to the bank. As I rolled up to the drive-through window, my eyes caught a glimpse of something flat, green, and rectangular. Backing up, I open the door to find a $20 bill lying on the ground. Being so close to the bank teller window, it’s obvious it was part of a transaction. No one would be out of their car to drop their purse or wallet. So, what do I do? I pick the money up and give it to the teller. I explained it was probably part of someone’s deposit.

With this information, she turns around to another teller. The speakers were off, and I couldn’t hear what she said to him. What I did see was the other teller frown and swipe the money from her hands and her laughing. I think I follow what happened only a few moments before my arrival. From the teller’s face, I could surmise there was a rather nasty dispute over the lost currency. It wouldn’t have been his fault, but people get nasty over money for some reason. 😉

Did I expect anything out of the deal? Nope. In fact, I knew I probably wouldn’t even get a thank you out of it. A rarity anymore is a mannered teller. However, I think I did find something of value in the whole ordeal. I righted a wrong. Not only did I spare him the headache of having to defend himself in the future, he has some vindication for when that person comes around next time. It’s a popular branch, and I think they’d be back. I don’t believe in karma, but this is a random act of kindness. This is the stuff I do, and it’s hard sometimes when it goes unnoticed. I suppose I won’t let it stop me from doing it in the future though.

So, would you pocket the money and not say a thing or would you hand it to the teller like I did? Twenty dollars will buy a nice dinner out with tip. It’s nothing to sneeze at. I can also hate the sin and not the sinner on this one, as it’s just part of my “control freakishness” (or so society declares :eye roll:). I’m not looking to browbeat anyone on this. I’m genuinely curious to see if others would keep it.

Advertisement

My City by the Bay (Chapter 4, Part 1 of 4)

Station

The next few days were rough on Sig. The thought of Sal weighed heavy on his mind as he went through the day-to-day motions of his life. Conversations got garbled and meals were tasteless. Benelli did what she could to help, but could only stay out of his way. There wasn’t much that could be done. He had to sort this out and make peace with the issue by himself.

He stared at the map on the corkboard. All the red pins started to dance a bit, as he stood there motionless. There wasn’t much of a pattern, save that they were close to Old Town. That’s merely a practical move. Dead bodies showing up in the richer neighborhoods would rattle too many movers and shakers, and pressure on the police chief would be compounded.

“They wouldn’t want the bodies to get cold too much. They obviously need a chop shop, and it’s obviously in Old Town. It’s got to be large and accommodating, which says little. There are plenty of those down there. Too many drop offs would also stir the hive.”

“That is, if the hive isn’t afraid for its life. Life’s cheap in the ghetto. There’s no reason to push the envelope.” Benelli chimed in behind him.

“How long have you been standing there?” Sig twisted his head to the right.

“Long enough to listen to your little soliloquy.”

“With Sal gone, it’s going to be a little more difficult to pull out information from the area. He was one of the few people that talked to the police.” There was a lingering bit of sorrow, bring up a sore subject.

“Do you have any bright ideas? You seem to be good at them, even if they are a little reckless at times.” Benelli was trying to change the subject. Sig winced, recalling McGreavy’s words a few days ago, and she closed her eyes at the realization. After a long pause, Sig spoke, “when I was face to face with their enforcer, he said he got flowers for his girl. At first, I thought it may have been funeral arrangements but that could be it.”

“Why’s that?” Benelli was one to get straight to the point.

“Because the corpses wouldn’t be fresh enough by the time they got a hold of them. They would want the parts as soon as possible. That and I already asked the Chestnut Grove caretakers if they noticed any body parts missing on their grave robberies. It was just jewelry and fillings.” Sig stared at the board the whole time he was talking. “That means the flowers came directly from a vendor. How many flower shops are there in Old Town? I doubt the gorilla likes to go outside his comfort zone.”

“A quick search reveals five plausible locations, Sig.”

“That’s a start, at least. It sure beats staring at this board. He’s a creature of habit for sure. He’s not smart enough to deviate from a learned routine. We’ll tail him and bring him in for questioning.”

“On what? Promoting the destruction of plant life?” Painfully following the letter of the law was a favorite pastime of Benelli’s.

“Aw Hell, he’s too stupid to know. We’ll find something. Keep your eyes peeled for something that will ease your conscience.” Sig always had trouble wrapping his mind this quirk.

“I don’t like this! You can’t just do that. This is what separates us from dirty cops. I’ve looked the other way on a lot of things, but… I just can’t! No, I just can’t.” Benelli was starting to get her fur up.

“Alright! Alright! We’ll follow him and see where his sweetheart lives. We’ll question her when he’s gone. Better?” Benelli calmed down after that.

“Yes. Thank you.” She finally said.

 © 2013 by Corvidae in the Fields, all rights reserved