A large box awaited Jeannie on her porch.
“Hmm, what’s this? QVC? Ebay? Amazon?” Jeannie mentally reviewed all her favorite online order sites, and realized that she hadn’t ordered anything in a while. She picked up the box and carried it inside, noting the lack of a UPS tracking sticker. A few stamps adorned the top right corner.
“How did I order something weighing 25 pounds and I don’t remember doing it?” she wondered.
She set it down on the kitchen table and slit open the taped seams. She opened the flaps, revealing an envelope on top of pink packing peanuts. She picked up the envelope, then moved away some of the peanuts.
One hundred dollar bills in ten stacks, five by two, each wrapped with a white strip of paper, lay under the peanuts.
“Whoa, what the hell???” Jeannie jumped back. “Oh my God!”
She double-checked the mailing address. Yep, it was addressed to her, Jeannie Diana Wilson. She sat down, shaking, still holding the envelope. It was also addressed to her. She opened it and removed a piece of paper.
“Dear Ms Wilson,
I trust you are in good health, and that all is well. Unfortunately, I cannot say the same for myself. By the time you read this letter, I should be dead, or at the very least, be in a coma. I regret that we never got the chance to meet in person; I have heard of your work at the Southern California Art Institute and am quite impressed.
I present to you this gift of a million dollars in cash with no regrets, and no strings attached. Please use it as you see fit.”
“What the hell…. a million dollars????” Jeannie dropped the letter and started pacing around the den and kitchen.
“There’s a million…. It said a million…WHY ME?” She started talking out loud to herself. To say that she was a little freaked out was an understatement.
“How does this man know who I am…and why is he giving me so much???”
Jeannie looked up and into the kitchen. The kitchen window’s curtains were partially open. Suddenly nervous that her neighbor had seen something, she walked over to the window to close the curtains, and to check the lock on the back door. Locked.
“What am I going to do with all of this money???”
She walked back over, looked at the money, then went back into hallway and made sure the front door was locked. She tested the lock from the inside, then suddenly grabbed her keys, and went outside. She looked around to see if anyone was looking, locked the door from the outside, then threw herself at it, trying to open it.
“Okay, lock’s good, but some big guy could come crashing through it…I have to get this money out of the house”.
Jeannie went back into the house, relocked the front door, and tested all the windows. As she did, she kept looking back at the table which held the money. Then she walked back over to it, and picked up the letter to finish reading it.
“I do have one request. If at all possible, would you please attend my funeral, and meet my surviving family? Simons and Walters will be handling the services; please call them at 626-555-3435 in two or three days. The services should be scheduled by then.
If you feel uncomfortable at accepting this gift, please return it to my family at the funeral. I will understand completely.
Best of luck, and thank you,
Walter Masterson”
Jeannie examined the box. She noticed that the stamps were not cancelled, and the return address was smudged and illegible. Then she sat down again. “What if this is some weird trick? What IS THIS? WHO is this person…and why can he afford to give a million dollars to a stranger? Is there really a million?”
She pulled out one of the 10 stacks of money in the box to examine it.
There were 10 bundles of 100-dollar bills in the stack. The paper wrapper said that there were 100 bills in each bundle.
“Wow…if there really are 100 bills in each bundle…I have a million dollars…in my house!” She decided to count one of the bundles. Sure enough, it contained 100 bills. The serial numbers weren’t exactly sequential, but they were all different and smelled and looked new.
“I don’t even know this man…who is he? Oh wait…I know….” She went over to her laptop sitting on the couch in the den, opened up a new web browser and typed “Walter Masterson bio” into the search window. She clicked the web search button and read for a bit.
There was quite a bit of information about the sender of the money. Walter Masterson had had quite a history. First a computer engineer who worked on the first cell phone technology, then a lawyer in this 30s, then studying accounting and investing wisely in the 80s and 90s had left him a millionaire several times over. He was the owner of a foundation for scholarships, gave to the arts.
“He must have a lot of money if he gave a million dollars to a stranger” she thought. She kept reading.
He’d had his share of tragedy, however. Seventeen years ago, he’d broken his leg, and was home with his three youngest grandchildren. His wife, three children and spouses, and older grandchildren all died in a plane crash on their way to Paris. He then raised his grandchildren alone, never remarrying.
“Wow…that’s so sad….now his grandkids are alone”. Tears filled her eyes. Her father had died when she was 25; her mother, 4 years ago. She couldn’t bring herself to attend a funeral after that.
“Well,” she thought, “I knew at some point I’d have to attend someone’s funeral….maybe this one will be easier, since I don’t know him”.
She eyed the box again. “But first, I have to figure out what to do with the money.” Banks were already closed, so that wasn’t a option at present. She went over to the box and put the stack of $100,000 back into the box. She picked it up, put it into her bedroom closet, and was coming back to the living room to read more about Walter Masterson when the doorbell rang.