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Caitlin Post knew she shouldn’t have taken it, but things were so bad and the proposition was so good, that even the voice of reason, doings its respectful job, did so only in a whisper. She also knew that by accepting the proposition she might change her life irreversibly. But she held her breath, hoped for something better, grabbed the cash, and ran.
What would you do if a handsome stranger rear-ended your car, and offered you $10,000 in cash to simply forget about it and drive away? What if he came back the next day and offer you a simple job of delivering a very private note to a friend of his for a few thousand dollars? Just deliver the note, he says, with the most delicious smile you have ever seen.
Well Caitlin did it. That spontaneous decision, to take the money, becomes the tipping point in her life. Sending her down a path of love, greed and deceit, making her realize having money is “Not Enough.”
Monday, eight a.m. with mocha in hand, accessorized with huge puffy eyes, I set off to work. As much as I hated Mondays, I was thankful to actually have something to occupy my mind.
On the car ride home, one hour later, I was making deals with God to strike me dead with lightning. Turns out, Monday was the day Dwight and Howard evoked massive layoffs. Senior management gathered two hundred of its employees in the cafeteria for a layoff cattle call. There would be severance packages based on seniority. I got three weeks pay for my one year of work.
I spoke to no one on my way out. Packed a box, deleted things I knew management would want, and made a point of slamming my office door. Management generously offered us thirty minutes to get packed up, hand in our keys and leave the premises, I took only five. I drove home with my hands clutching the steering wheel so intensely that my knuckles turned white and began to ache. I wove through traffic using my horn freely. I was headed home to a completely empty apartment, I had no job and no money, then I suddenly remembered rent was due in two days: rent I couldn’t pay on my own. I would even have to pay a phone bill for a socket in the wall that didn’t have a phone plugged into it.
I felt my foot sink into the gas pedal forcing it into the floor only to be countered by slamming the brakes abruptly when necessary. There was not a single rational thought in my head. Maybe that is why what happened, happened next.
I tore off the freeway ramp to my place at about eighty-miles per hour. I applied the brakes rapidly as I approached the intersection. I felt a force slam into me from behind.
My whole body shot forward. My forehead slammed into the steering wheel. My body ricocheted back into the seat. I grabbed my neck as the car came to a rolling stop. I peered up into the rearview mirror to see a Black Escalade embedded in the trunk of my car. I couldn’t see anyone inside the other vehicle because the windows were tinted.
I pulled off to the side of the ramp, as did the driver of the monstrous SUV Cadillac after dislodging his car from mine.
With aches and pains beginning to spread through my body, I crawled out of the car. I walked to the back of my gray, battered, ten-year-old Honda Civic. The trunk area was crinkled like a thin pop can. Splinters of paint and red taillight littered the ground. I looked down at it expressionlessly. I just didn’t care. My car was a piece of shit, which was equal to my life at that moment.
My neck was throbbing; I pinched my eyes shut to try to block out the pain. The sound of the rushing freeway voided out all other sounds. I felt completely defeated.
When you’re in a mood like that, when all your ducks have been shot down, when there is seemingly nothing left, you too might be surprised at what kind of a proposition you would agree to, to save your own ass.
I was about to get a proposition, one you could spend a lifetime debating the ramifications of if you wanted to do so. But I wasn’t in the mood to think it through, and I would face all the ramifications it would bring later.
Sarah lives with her daughter and husband in Vancouver, WA.
Book Publisher: Wings e Press
No. of Pages: 226
Paper Weight (lb): 9.8
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