Feeling Lucky

My desk sat in the underworld. At least it felt that way. First, because my boss, Mr. Jerk, dumped extra assignments on it every day this week. Second, was because of the sweltering temperature from Julie’s heater, oscillating heat weaves through our shared cubicle wall.  

I'm six two, tall enough to glare over the fabric divider while she sits in her orthopedic chair. I removed my wool overcoat in quick, precise movements.  

"Something wrong Benny?" she asked and adjusted her glasses. 

I jerked my head, and responded with a grunt. Ben, I thought to myself. I powered on my computer, and reviewed my desktop calendar. The thirteenth. It was finally here, and the notes I’d made about our merger meeting, and Paige Williams being in town weren’t necessary. They were ingrained in my brain. 

A cutting voice behind me said, “So Benny, should I call you VP? Try it out?” 

Ben. 

I didn’t turn to see Derek’s big nose. It would crinkle with his punch line, and I could picture it just fine as I logged into my programs.

“Or is Sunstone going to merge, and leave you as the business accounts poster boy?” His laugh wheezed like he was out of breath. “Maybe if you became VP someone would care enough about you to give you a picture for your desk.” Wheeze, wheeze, wheeze. “It’s looking more vacant every day.”

No response was necessary. He’d aimed and taken his shot, and would walk away in three, two, one.

As soon as I had my screens adjusted just right I reviewed Sunstone’s latest proposal. It was beyond fair. I saved the latest stats, then moved on to my daily work. After ten minutes, the numbers looked like her name, over and over. I took a break to search Paige Williams’s social media. 

My chest tightened when I saw a picture of her posing by the good fortune elephant, only a block from my office. Her smile hadn’t changed since high school. Had her hair? It was stacked on top of her head, difficult to tell. The picture was shared two hours earlier, so she was most likely sitting in her conference now, bonding with fellow teachers, and collaborating with new acquaintances. Meeting new men.

Were they providing lunch, or would she eat at a nearby restaurant?

“Are you bouncing your knee, Benny?” Julie called out.

My leg stilled. Ben.

A symphony of chimes on my phone and computer simultaneously alerted me of a new message. I clicked on the ema- No, not an email. It was a notification from a program I’d never heard of, let alone seen on my desktop. Even more suspect, it opened without any action on my part. I’ve read cyber-security warnings, but other than the instructions to not open a suspicious attachment, I had no idea what to do. A moving graphic of a black cat walking under a ladder appeared, followed by fancy writing. 

Benjamin Roberts, man of stone, adhere to this charge; make your sentiments known. There are more than many who help you feel, but you’ve never shown them quite what is real. Thirteen is the count; confessions and calendar, simple prerequisites to change your character. Heed the traditional strike of the clock, don’t wager your fortune, we wish you luck.

Delete.

As soon as I pressed the key, the message reappeared. Black cat, ladder, and bad poem.

I stood and scanned the area. No one looked my way, or filmed my response to this prank. 

Delete.

It popped up five more times. I thought I’d been hacked since my phone was playing the same game, until I discovered a green envelope mixed with my mail. There was no return address, just an upside down horseshoe stamp which gave me pause, and a post mark of a month prior. Inside was a single paper displaying the same message.

My coat was on, and I was out the door. A gigantic breath in, a breath out. In, out to the rhythm of my shoes on the pavement, avoiding cracks. My mind spun, and spun, recalling the last time I talked with my dad. Him telling my thirteen-year-old self that we shouldn’t keep the stray, because a black cat is bad luck, and me shrugging it away. My mom’s screams the next morning when she found that my active, healthy dad wasn’t breathing.

“Hmph,” a voice said. 

Back in reality I’d bumped into a person. I caught their shoulders reflexively. “Excuse me, I’m sorry.”

“Ben?”

I halted. That voice, her smile, that dark mountain on top of her head.

“Ben, it’s me, Paige Williams,” she said, and hugged me as if I was her best friend, instead of my sister Liv. “It’s so crazy to run into you like this. Liv said you live here, but it’s such a big city, and I’m at this conference most of the time, so I barely leave the hotel. What are the odds?”

I was a numbers guy, and I couldn’t even begin to consider the equation that would produce the odds of bumping into my lifelong crush Paige Williams in a city of two million. 

She kept talking with no encouragement on my part, which made it easy to walk along with her rather than trip all over my words. We entered a soup and sandwich shop, stood in line, and sat in a booth near the back without deciding to. 

My sandwich was almost gone when she stopped talking, and waited for me to speak. 

“How’s your conference?” I asked.

“Oh no,” She waved her hand, accidentally knocking the salt shaker. I snatched it before it tipped over. “I’ve already talked way too much about myself. I’m sorry about that. Is your work near here?”

 I washed down my bite with a swig of water. “I work for Helix’s. It’s a block down.”

“Helix’s?” Her hair mountain shifted with her surprised movement. “Wow. You’ve arrived, huh?”

“No,” I said with honesty. I’d arrive when I gained a backbone and asked her on a date. Or kissed that pink mouth. Or told l her that I’ve had feelings for…”

Feelings. The message, or poem, curse, or whatever it was. Paige was the only distraction that would have pushed that from my brain for a half hour. Adhere to this charge; make your sentiments known.

She kept her attention on me while she chewed, waiting for an explanation. 

“I…” I patted my mouth with a napkin. “Paige, I-” Ten years of anxiety flooded my chest. It was so hard to breathe. 

“Are you okay, Ben?”

“Paige?” A blonde guy in a polo leaned onto our table. His flirtatiousness was more obvious than if he’d brought flowers.

“Hey Doug,” Paige was polite enough, but she sounded like she read from a teleprompter. 

“What’d you get? Avocado?” He made a face. “That’s disgusting.” 

“Your sandwich has sprouts.” I pointed out.

Not only did his head whip back, but his whole body jerked. I was the nerd unwelcome at the cool kid’s table.

“Who are you?”

“Doug, this is Ben. Ben, Doug.” Paige gestured even though we knew who was whom. “He’s my best friend’s brother.”

Doug’s muscles loosened. “Oh,” he turned back to Paige. “So, after the conference, dinner at Reuben’s, then the late-night party. It’ll be the best night of your life.” He winked at her, then left without saying goodbye to me.

Paige shivered. She looked at me through her eyelashes, and I wanted to rewind the last five minutes and ask her out before Doug.

She checked her watch. “I wish I had more time. My next session is starting.”

“Yeah,” I racked my brain for a way to keep her there. 

She slid from the booth. “It was nice to see you Ben.”

Her black boots carried her away before I could stand. She was gone before my mouth could produce words.

On my way back to the office, my fist held tight to the green curse in my pocket. Adhere to this charge; make your sentiments known. 

I read the rest of it, over and over. I wasn’t a poet, so there was a chance I misinterpreted its meaning, but my best guess was that I had to tell thirteen people how I felt. On the thirteenth, which was that day. Traditional strike of the clock. Like a fairy tale?

Could be a joke, but I wasn’t risking it. I didn’t necessarily believe in magic, but I knew there were bigger powers at play. My dad was proof of that. So was my mom. The woman who recalled every coworker’s, and neighbor’s, and long lost uncle’s birthday, diagnosed with Alzheimer's. Fate had a disturbing sense of humor, and I couldn’t let it mess with me over something so simple. Don’t wager your fortune, we wish you luck.

Thirteen people. I looked at each person in my office with a new perspective. I retrieved the crunched paper for another review. There are more than many who help you feel, but you’ve never shown them quite what is real.   But everyone here made me feel something. Would I have to guess which are included in the count? Or only tell thirteen of my choosing?

I strode toward my desk, but paused at Katelyn’s door when I noticed she was in. I’d always had strong feelings regarding our interactions. I politely knocked on her door frame. Her red lips turned into a suggestive smile, “Hi, Benny.”

Ben.

“Hi. Katelyn, I feel extremely uncomfortable around you. You come on strong, and I don’t welcome it.”

Her mouth now popped open. It was as round as her eyes.

“See you in the meeting,” I said. 

That wasn’t horrible. 

Around the corner sat Jared, scrolling through his phone. I greeted him, and he mumbled, but didn’t look up.

“Jared, we all know you spray the scent stuff because you fart a lot. Can’t you go to the bathroom?”

This grabbed his attention, and he looked pissed. 

“I get it, but it makes me feel disgusted and sick- smelling that all day. Please consider an alternative to the spray.”

At my desk, I grabbed my laptop, and the printed stats. I tapped the top of the fabric wall to get her attention. “Julie, you’re a nice person, and I like sitting here, but most of the time I feel like I’m in Hell because of your oversized heater. It’s too hot. Can you do something about that?”

I had to rush to the meeting, so I didn’t hear her response.

That’s three. Three down, only ten to go. The Sunstone president was attending, so I couldn’t talk about my feelings during the meeting.

Mr. Jerk stood, welcoming all the big shots around the intimidating table. Katelyn slipped into the chair across from me, and her body language told me my honesty didn’t deter, but gave her a challenge. I ignored her. I wished it was Paige looking at me like that.

“As you can see these reports I’ve put together show…” My face felt flushed, and my palms felt gritty. Was Jerk actually trying to claim those reports right in front of me? 

Eileen, Sunstone’s president, who insisted everyone call her by her first name, listened intently. She nodded, and asked a question.

Mr. Jerk froze, and cleared his throat, before looking at me. I stared back through half-lidded eyes. 

Eileen repeated her question.

It was an invisible tennis match between Eileen and Mr. Jerk. The anticipation of who would lob the word-ball next.

I spoke up. “The INR would be up thirteen percent in three months if you decrease your production costs by fifty dollars each day.”

Eileen didn’t seem surprised that I answered. “Excellent. And do you have any ideas we can implement?”

“Benny,” Mr. Jerk hissed. “Don’t you want to head home early? I know you weren’t feeling well earlier.”

Feeling well? Of course I wasn’t feeling well. He took credit for every report I’d completed for Sunstone.

“Feeling?” The word escaped, and I couldn’t stop it. “No, I’m not feeling well. I feel frustrated that I have a jerk for a boss, who capitalizes on the extra work he gives me while he stares at online magazines all day. I feel like I worked hard to prove myself as VP material, and I feel scared that it won’t pay off.”

The shocked expressions around the table made me feel slightly unhinged. As though I was spilling national secrets. “I feel like Diane,” I gestured at the plump woman with a mushroom haircut, “works harder than anyone on the receivable team, but no one notices. And I feel like everyone should know Kyle’s name, and pick up the trash around their own garbage cans, rather than leaving it for him to do during the night.”

“Benny-” Mr. Jerk’s tone was murderous.

“And the last thing,” I cut him off, speaking louder than before, “I feel annoyed when people call me Benny. It reminds me of a fifties musical, or a cartoon mouse, and I don’t like it. My name is Ben, or Benjamin.”

The room stayed silent, so I apologized to Eileen for the eruption. I promised her I’d email her ideas for cost reduction, and I left, catching her appreciative nod before the door closed.

Six. I was at least at six now, if not more. The curse-poem did one thing. As I lumbered along the sidewalk, it kept my mind from wandering to Paige, or the fact that I may have just lost my job.

“Excuse me, I just have to tell you that your street tacos always make me feel happy. They’re delicious.” The man stared at me wearily, but he was the first of many who gave me that look. I told the meter maid I feel like laughing when I see her ticketing cars. I stepped into an art gallery, and told anyone nearby that the Blue Eyes of Samara made me feel sad, and the pointillism painting made me feel tired.

My sister Liv called at the wrong time. I’d arrived at my apartment ten minutes prior, poured myself a drink, and found the family photo album.

 “Liv,” I said, and I’d never felt so scared in my life. “I have to tell you something.”

“Okay,” she said. When I couldn’t speak because my throat closed up from emotion, she asked. “Ben, what is it?”

“Dad’s gone because of me.”

She didn’t believe me, so I explained it all. How bad luck is a real thing, and how the black cat I had for one day ruined our lives. And how since, I’ve been terrified of cats, and terrified of telling her.

“Ben,” she cried. “I knew you were superstitious, but I didn’t know why. I wish I could hug you. Didn’t you know that I gave that cat, Midnight, to my friend Sarah?” 

I sobbed as she told me that Midnight had helped Sarah with depression, rather than curse her family. I sobbed even harder when she told me I’d stopped showing my feelings after our dad died, and I needed to talk with someone about it.

I agreed while swiping my eyes. An overwhelming feeling of gratitude for a loving sister encompassed me. I was so lucky. 

Before she hung up, she asked about Paige. And with encouragement, and a hint that gave me hope, I knew I still had one last person I needed to express my real feelings to.

Reuben’s, then a late party. That’s what the polo shirt guy said. I already forgot his name. In the foyer of the Hilton, I could feel the bass from the music in my feet and my chest. It cost me the price of the conference to get into this party, but it would be well worth it. 

The place looked like a high school prom, with balloons, Christmas lights, and a table for punch and cookies. It was a challenge to see facial features in the dim light, and after an hour of not finding Paige, I called her.

Voicemail.

A jolt of panic shot through my body when I saw the time. 11:45.

I vacillated. Liv promised the cat, Midnight, was not a curse, and that curses aren’t real, but where did this curse-poem come from? And what if I got to keep everyone whom I shared feelings with today in my life, but not Paige? Don’t wager your fortune.

I dialed Liv. No answer.

  I scoured the room with renewed determination. “Paige!” I resorted to yelling. “Paige!”

“Do you mean Paige Williams?” a woman asked me.

I nodded. She pointed me in the direction of the exit, and stumbled back when I embraced her in a bear hug. I flew through the crowds, knocking shoulders, and bumping punch cups.  

Out the door and across the patio, next to a three-tier fountain, was my destiny. She stared at her reflection with a dancing sway. Her dress sparkled in the night, and she looked as beautiful as the first time I saw her at my house after she’d had volleyball practice. “Paige?”

“Ben?”

Robotically, I handed her the curse-poem. She read it while I talked. “I’ve had feelings for you since junior year, and they’re not going away.” Her face was difficult to read, other than surprise, but that didn’t stop me. “We haven’t officially dated, but I know you. And I know that I love you.”

She gasped. “Are you doing this, because of this?” She held up the paper.

I grappled for words. That was her response? “Yes, and no. It was a motivator, but it didn’t influence how I feel about you.”

She shook her head, and as my heart was about to break, she said, “I’m going to kill your sister, the busybody.” She tucked the paper in my pocket. “To remember the beginning.” Then she stepped into my arms and kissed me. And I felt like the luckiest man alive.