Well, life went on. I kept chasing girls and Maynard was-well, Maynard. Neither of us talked about the pocket watch again. I supposed when we realized that the
fate of it no longer mattered we simply lost interest. However, deep down the pocket watch was always on my mind. I guess when you get right down to it, I
really did care about where it ended up.
On a rare day that Maynard and I hadn't gotten kicked out of my father's store, we decided to talk a walk down the street. Fall was almost over and soon winter
would set in. Winters in Central City could be harsh and bitterly cold, so our days of taking leisurely walks through the center of town would soon be coming to
an end.
I hadn't realized how long we'd been walking until I spotted the familiar bright red bench, which was beginning to show signs of wear. No telling how many
people had rested their weary bodies on it and sooner or later it would be time for the city to give it another paint job. I wondered if they would paint it red
again or a different color. I moved closer to it and glanced underneath. It seemed strange that not that long ago we'd found the pocket watch in this very spot. It
felt like a lifetime.
"Maynard, do you mind if we sit?" I asked.
"Sure good buddy. My feet are aching too." Maynard replied. The fact that he was tired as well gave me hope that perhaps our future walks would be much
shorter. Not that I minded walking. It was just that sometimes Maynard's pace was difficult to keep up with. And really I wasn't hurting from the walking. It was
from the work my father had made me put in that morning, shelving cans of every kind of vegetable imaginable, along with boxes of cereal, pasta and bags of
rice. He definitely couldn't say that I hadn't done my share. Actually he could (and probably would), but I knew that my mother would vouch for me.
Ah Mom. What would I do without her?
"Hey, wanna go say hello to the parakeets?" Maynard asked.
I glanced at Harry's Pet Shop, shuddering when I remembered what happened the last time we were there; when Maynard caused Harry to spill his money all
over the floor. "Um, you go ahead Maynard. I'm just going to sit right here for a while."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure."
"Well, all right. I'll say hello to Buster for you."
"Buster?"
"The cat. He's like brown with white markings on his face."
"Oh… right. Thanks Maynard. Give him my regards."
My friend's face lit up with excitement and he hurried across the street to the store. "I will!"
The sight of Maynard so excited to see a cat made me laugh. But I soon forgot about it and turned my head. Had it not been for the sound of the ambulance
siren in the distance I would have missed it-the small envelope taped to the back of the bench. In fact, it was my hand that found it before I did. As soon as my
fingers touched the slick surface, my curiosity got the better of me. I stood and carefully peeled the envelope from the back of the bench and then sat down to
open it. Now, it wasn't addressed to anyone, but across the front in bold letters it said "To my hero."
All right, I know, I know. I shouldn't have opened it. I should have tried to find out who it belonged to. But what's a guy supposed to do when he has nothing to
go on? I'd already done one honest thing by returning the pocket watch to Harry's Pet Shop in the hopes that someone would find it, so I hoped that this-well-
dishonest thing of reading someone else's mail would be canceled out. And even if that wasn't the way it worked, could you blame me for opening it?
But I wasn't prepared for what I found inside.
It was a letter written in the neatest handwriting I'd ever seen. I know I shouldn't have read it, but when a guy is curious there's only one thing that can quell it.
So, against my better judgement and out of curiosity, I began to read:
To whom it may concern:
When I walked into Harry's Pet Shop yesterday I was lower than low. All I wanted to do was see the cute kittens and puppies. They always worked in the past at
cheering me up. But lately I've been really upset and being that upset makes it hard to concentrate on school, which is a first for me.
Anyway, had it not been for the flyer posted in the window, I probably never would have gone into the pet shop in the first place. The kittens and puppies were
just a bonus. But imagine my surprise when I showed the owner the flyer and he showed me the pocket watch that someone had turned in.
I recognized it instantly. You see, my father gave me that watch for my birthday and said that it belonged to my grandfather. My grandmother had given it to
him as a wedding present. She even had it engraved with a clever saying. "I love you every second."
I promised my father I'd take good care of it, but unfortunately somewhere along the way I lost it. I've spent weeks and weeks wondering what happened to it,
afraid to tell my father. I just know that if I told him, he'd never trust me again. Imagine my relief and surprise of finding it again. The owner told me that
someone turned it in after they found it under this bench. So I thought that leaving a note of thanks in the very place it was found would be the perfect spot.
I don't know if anyone will find this note, but if you're reading it right now I want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart. You have no idea how much
this means to me. If we ever meet in person, I promise to thank you profusely. But until then, please accept this token of gratitude.
Sincerely,
A very happy person
To my surprise-and horror, tucked inside the letter was a crisp ten-dollar bill. Now I could have taken that money and split it with Maynard. That was the only fair
thing to do. But somehow, holding that money in my hand made me feel cheap. Couldn't a guy do a nice thing without expecting anything in return? Truth was,
that the letter warmed my heart.
Just then Maynard came out of the pet shop.
"Hey Dobs, you'll never guess what happened!" He shouted. But I had to tell him my news first.
"Maynard, that can wait, all right?"
He nodded. "Okay, so what's your news?"
"This!"
I handed him the letter watching as his eyes moved across the words. And then he stared at the ten dollar bill in his hand.
"Oh…"
"Now Maynard, don't go crazy, all right?"
"Dobs just think of what we can do with all of this money! Oh… I think the sign in there says that the corgi is-."
"We're not buying a pet nor are we keeping the money!"
"We're not?"
"No. We're gonna figure out who it is and give them the money back. It's the only honest thing to do."
Deflated, Maynard slumped onto the bench. "Like, okay."
"Great Maynard. I promise I'll make it up to you."
"Like, can we go to the zoo?"
"Sure."
"Now?"
I looked at my watch. "The zoo is closed now but maybe in a few days."
"But my friend says they're open! And certain nights they're open till late."
"Your friend said that huh? Which friend would this be?"
"Like Zamba."
My eyes widened. "Zamba? You mean the lion from the zoo that belonged to the prince?"
"That's the one."
"Maynard… I think we need to go home now." Gently I guided my friend down the street, pausing briefly at the drugstore. Clearly he needed something but it
wasn't anything any medicine could cure. In fact, I was the one with the aching head.
Leave it to Maynard to make friends with a lion.