2016 – Day 38

Start writing a story that...

Step 1: includes the words: death  case  ostrich

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Mr. Halpern arrived on the late train and decided to walk the 12 blocks to his apartment on Main Street. No cabs would go to his neighborhood at night and he was deeply distrustful of the gypsy cabs. Just a year ago, he was robbed of $36 cash and then beaten up for having so little to make the theft worthwhile. The case he carried was light, and so with the help of the few streetlights working along the way, he found his way home by 1:00 am.

He quietly climbed the stairs of his building and slipped into his apartment on the third floor. He listened for sounds coming from Mrs. Johnson's apartment next door, but there was nothing to hear but the noise of his own refrigerator trying to stave off death. It hummed briefly, then stopped, rattled, and began humming again. Mr. Halpern wanted to give it a firm whack on the side, which usually fixed the problem for a week or two, but he didn't want anyone to be alerted to his presence at home.

He carried the case to the bedroom and set it down on the bed. Clicking open the top, he removed the few items of clothes and toiletries. He then ran his hands over the bottom of the case until he found the secret latch and opened a hidden compartment underneath. Inside lay six rare ostrich feathers mostly colored in blues and greens with specks of gold that glinted in the light emanating from the single lamp on the bureau. Mr. Halpern reached out to touch the feathers, but jerked his hand back immediately. The feathers were worth much more in pristine condition, and he was not undertaking this dangerous venture for anything less than the full amount.

Replacing and locking the secret compartment, Mr. Halpern wandered around his bedroom looking for something to put inside the case. What would be believable if people were to find the case stored in the basement? He opened and shut each drawer in the bureau, then went into the kitchen to check the cabinets. There was nothing of value. His clothes, his shoes, the bedding, the pots and pans, and the tableware—it was all old and worn, holding no value to anyone but him and his mother. He had brought many of her beloved possessions to her room in the retirement home, but she had no need for the bedding that had fit the queen-sized bed she'd shared with his father, nor for the tableware that she had received from her family on her wedding day. The tableware was low-end then, too, and only his mother's careful and frugal nature kept the cheap dishes and cups intact for 50 years.

As he leaned against the kitchen counter, staring at the contents of the cabinets, Mr. Halpern pictured his mother as he remembered her from his childhood. He thought of her thick brown hair, always cut to her shoulders so that it barely grazed her nurse's uniform. If it were any longer, she would be forced to keep it in a bun, but she had said that her hair was the only feature that she loved about herself and insisted on keeping it down. When it started to go gray, she dyed it immediately, prompting his father to say he was looking forward to getting dirty looks on the subway when he held hands with a woman who looked half his age. That made his mother laugh.

Mr. Halpern returned to the bedroom and stared at his closet, filled mostly with his few pants and shirts, but also with a handful of his mother's clothes that didn't belong at the home. There were two dresses that she no longer liked, a rain jacket, and a garment bag he had forgotten about. He took down the bag and unzipped it. Inside, emanating a slightly musty smell, was his mother's fur coat, perhaps the only thing she owned of value. She had feared its theft at the home and, despite still loving wearing the fur, she sent it back with her son after a week. He ran his fingers over the soft surface and thought about the creatures that had once inhabited it. It made him think of the ostrich feathers, and suddenly he had a solution to his problem.

Mr. Halpern zipped up the bag and folded it into the open case. Then, pressing the bag down with his knee, he zipped the case closed around it. He carried the case toward the front door. As he prepared to step out of his apartment and make his way down to the basement, he heard a car door outside. Moving to the window, and being careful to stand to the side so as not to be seen, Mr. Halpern looked down at the cars below. A black sedan was parked by the fire hydrant beside his building and two men were walking from the car toward the front door. He recognized the lurching gait of the second man and realized he had moments to spare. He needed to hide the case.