Penniless

by Donna Schoenkopf

This is a story about the goodness of people.

I shall begin at the beginning.

On my way back to Oklahoma from California I had a stopover in Denver as part of my journey home.

I was feeling good after a sweet week in California, thanks to my wonderful son, Eric, who had bought me an airline ticket, complete with first class upgrade, and my darling daughter, Rebecca, who bought new tires so she could drive me, Grandson Jimmy, and courageous son John all the way to San Francisco from L.A. I had managed to treat my kids to some dinner and gasoline and trinkets, and now back to everyday life.

Having some time on my hands, I called my friend, MAX, the bank’s computer, whose job it is to answer my every call with sane and calm accountings of whatever money I have. I was cutting things close and was counting every penny but MAX doesn’t care HOW many times I call him. (I actually finally got over feeling that I was bothering “him” when one day I had to call a dozen times and he was still as calm as usual.)

Much to my horror I heard him say that my checking account balance was ... NEGATIVE $1.46!!

My heart stood still in my chest. HOW COULD I HAVE MISCALCULATED??? But I had.

That meant I was facing four days of no money, I wouldn’t be able to get DiegoRivera the Puppy out of the $7 a day kennel, or feed him when I got him home, and there was practically nothing in the old Frigedaire for ME to eat.

I immediately called a real person at my bank on their 800 number from a pay phone (when was the last time YOU used a pay phone?) because I had accidentally left my cell phone at my allergy doctor’s office the day before I left for California. I told the Bank Lady what happened. She double checked for me. Yes, I was $1.46 overdrawn. I asked her what I should do. She very tenderly told me not to worry. If I didn’t use my check cashing/ATM/VISA card, nothing bad would happen. She told me everything would be just fine. And she understood. She said quietly into her telephone mouthpiece that she had been in my position, too.

That was just plain nice of her. She let me know I wasn’t a bad person. Retarded. A loser.

I relaxed a little and decided I wanted to make some calls to my children, just to check in. I do this when I have time on my hands. BUT no cell phone and no money, so I had to use my ancient Working Assets Calling Card, which I miraculously still had in my wallet. I soon found out that it was so old that my card number was no longer valid. The Working Assets (now Credo, that’s how old my card was) operator tried and tried to figure out a way to reinstate me. She must have been on the phone with me for fifteen minutes, to no avail. We talked about my $1.46 overdraft and she told me she had been there, too. Her voice got all kind and sweet. We shared our moment of solidarity. But there was nothing she could do. She was really sad that she couldn’t help.

So I sat at the airport and calculated my next move. I had several hours of layover ahead of me. I had no reading material, having stupidly turned down son Eric’s offer of his New York Times. I had to hold onto my remaining $25 to pay the parking at the airport when I landed in Oklahoma City.

Then I realized I had some change in my ashtray in my car! I was certain I had at least $2.00, so I splurged and bought a fifty cent The Rockies alternative newspaper, complete with pages and pages of comix and lots of puzzles. I also bought a bag of Chex Hot ’n Spicy snacks.

It’s kind of thrilling to be able to survive AND have a little luxury with virtually no money. I congratulated myself on having the change in the ashtray and knowing EXACTLY how much money I needed to get home.

All aboard!! Destination Oklahoma!!

A short little hop in a tiny plane and we ...

Landed. Debarked. I found the shuttle to the airport and hopped aboard for the short trip to the airport parking lot ... and realized I didn’t have money to tip the driver. And it was the holiday season! I was the only one on the shuttle, so I bared my soul and explained the whole story and how sorry I was that I couldn’t tip him and he (nicknamed Puddin’ Pop) told me stories of how he had been in my place many, many times in his life. He was sweet and kind and wished me well. And drove me right to my car. And unloaded my very heavy bag. AND put it in the car.

I climbed into my darling car, counted out $2.00 in change to replace my splurge at the airport and drove up to the cashier’s window. A nice guy told me it was $25 and I handed him my bills and the $2.00 in change. I told him I was sorry about the change but that I was $1.46 overdrawn at the bank. He handed me back the change and said he could “validate” the $2.00 and to not worry and that HE had been in the same position many times himself.

My heart, by this time, was flooded with love and gratitude.

I thanked him with all my heart and began the drive home.

I was parched ... a result of the Chex Hot ’n Spicy mix. And also dead tired. I began thinking about pulling over for a nap, rather than risking certain death on the long, straight, dark highway ahead of me, when I realized I had TWO DOLLARS in change and was about to pass a 7-11. A frosty Coca-Cola sounded like the nectar of the gods, so I made a sharp right turn into the parking lot.

A jolly, rotund black man, standing outside the 7-11 behind an official looking podium, called out to me, asking if I had gotten my ticket yet. (What ticket???) No, I hadn’t. Well, come over and sign up for a $500 prize. Well, OKAY! I said. So I signed up and was put on the Daily Oklahoman newspaper call list and told him I was $1.46 overdrawn at the bank and could really use $500 and HE told me some stories of being down and out and we had a great chat and I went in and got TWO cans of frosty Coke (49 cents apiece!) and waved good-bye.

I got home to my little house and my cats. No DiegoRivera the Puppy. Poor puppy. I wondered if he would be held hostage. I decided I would call the kennel early the next day and tell the office manager about my dilemma. I felt embarrassed and guilty. I practiced my speech in my head several times.

The next morning at 8:00 am sharp, I called. I told her all about my $1.46 overdraft and would they be able to hold my check until my retirement check came on the 2nd of January. Why yes, of COURSE, she could. No problem. The kindness and goodness sang like a melody in her voice. I jumped in my car and met her in the office. She checked the number of days Diego had been there, and DEDUCTED one day off the bill because she is the OFFICE MANAGER, and said she would hold the check until the 3rd, giving me an extra day in case something happened. I told her my check was automatically deposited and would be good on the 2nd and she smiled and said okay.

She and I bonded.

I collected Diego, who was totally disoriented, went home, and thought about four days of no money. Diego would starve. I would have no milk for my coffee and have to eat toast after eating my one package of spaghetti, but I would have LOTS of condiments.

With a start, I realized I had some lumber and bricks left over from my deck-building and that Lowe’s would take it all back, no questions asked.

I walked out back to the scanty pile of leftover lumber and solid pile of bricks. I spent some time loading it all into the car, lumber sticking out my window, bricks neatly stacked in the trunk, and drove to Lowe’s.

As I was unloading the bricks from my trunk into a cart, a woman, plump, in her forties perhaps, walked over and asked if I wanted some help. She was dear and good. I was almost finished so I declined her generous offer and thanked her for her kindness. She was going to work the next day after a couple of days off, she said, and was wondering if she would even have a job left. Here she was, not knowing whether or not she would even have a JOB when she went back to work, and she was helping ME.

My heart filled with love for her. I wished her all the luck in the world and watched her walk into Lowe’s.

I pushed the cart-full-o-bricks inside to the return desk and told the young man behind the counter that ... YOU know what I told him...and he called some guys to help me bring in the lumber and told me all about how he had been overdrawn and penniless, too. The unloading guys told stories of their own. We all laughed and felt like members of the club of the moneyless people.

I got $86.49 back.

Life is good.

People are good.

And I love you all.

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