The Original of the Times

A ORIGNINAL OF THE TIMES

Ted tried to conform to the times, and tried to communicate with hash tags or whatever you called them to the world. He had few friends that were real, and his family was old photographs in ancient frames.
Technology moved so quickly. Born in the eighties, there was Atari. His family couldn’t afford one. The nineties there were wireless laptops and an email craze. Again his family couldn’t afford any of that. He depended on his teachers and even the janitors to let him use the school computers to write his papers or research. As long as the principal wasn’t included he wasn’t in trouble.
Now communication is abbreviated. People only have only a few characters to say what is going on in their mind. Ted refused to apologize for not abbreviating his poetic language. He even still liked holding books in his hand –cover to cover. As much as Ted tried to be a part of the times, Ted knew he just didn’t belong. The poet inside him was dying in a few characters.
Ted however, realized one day there will always be some kind of a human element. Some may see technology as a perfect solution but there will be a human close behind making a mistake. Ted figured one day this may not be the case in a few years but for now he should cash in on the imperfections.
With this epiphany in his head he decided to get his news for the day on his eight year old laptop he bought used so it was probably older.
He wondered what it was like to be a journalist. Doing the research, maybe going to the event as it is going on, asking questions to a source and what not, only to sum it all up in a few lines. Were we really that busy?
Two stories hit him hard like a fender bender. One was a car bomb in the next forgotten war his country was fighting. The other one was a bank robbery that happened in his home town. The robbers were caught outside. The car bomb killed 6.
Ted lived comfortably, however sometimes it was pay check to pay check. He didn’t necessarily want to be rich. Unlike most people his age and younger he wasn’t sucked into being famous or living the life of a celebrity. Ted felt content in being unknown in being a nobody. Ted was unsure what exactly made him tick, and what was the source of the force that got him up to go to his job.
If it hadn’t been his day off, Ted would have been at work not thinking the way he was that day. It was Catastrophic maybe but Ted wasn’t into violence. He wasn’t into war or guns but maybe he could be an original he thought to himself. The word original rang out like a gun shot in a cave rickesheing around in his brain.
“An original of the times.” Ted said to himself.
Ted, simple minded yet motivated squibbled legibly on a bank withdraw slip. He didn’t know why he held on to them, but today he was glad he had something like this.
It was hot that day, so hot a person would take a shower then go outside start to sweat and then regret taking the shower. Ted put on his winter clothes. A toboggan, scarf, earmuffs, and a large over coat given to him by his dad after his dad died. Finally he put the withdraw slip in his pocket and left for his adventure.
Ted picked this particular apartment because it was close to everything. He could walk to get his groceries, he could walk to work, and he could walk to his bank. That day he walked to his bank in his winter clothes.
On the way to the bank, he noticed the church that he usually ignored. They were having a spaghettis dinner that night to raise money so the youth group could go to Haiti. The youth group was cooking and serving the meal. Ted walked right passed, although there was a part of him that wanted to help out.
Ted arrived the parking lot of the bank; he noticed there was a man behind the wheel of a ford F-150 that wouldn’t start. The engine would gurgle but it wouldn’t turn over. Ted went to the man on the driver side.
“Hey man, I want to help you out. I am going to go inside and ask the bank teller to call a tow truck.” Ted spoke from the gut.
“I guess that is my only option,” said the man as he threw up his hands, surrendering to the bill he knew he will have to pay.
“How about this you stand in front of your car, and when I point to you, wave at the bank teller.”
“Okay,” said the man, “but why are you wearing all that? It’s July.”
“I just got out of the crazy house,” Ted answered,” These are clothes that they gave me to wear.”
Ted nodded and then went to the entrance of the bank. He waved to the man in the truck and went inside. The first thing Ted noticed was the security guard at the door was sleeping. He stepped quietly to the one bank teller which was the second site he noticed.
She was young, very young. It was probably her first day. She was texting her boyfriend about how boring it was there. Meanwhile the person encharge of her training was in the employee lounge nursing a hangover with V8.
Ted looked around and took a deep breath for motivation. He stepped softly to the young bank teller who was about to experience Ted’s catastrophic intentions.
Ted took out the withdraw slip from his pocket. He read it over again, and then slid it with the writing down to the young bank teller. The bank teller sighed for two reasons. One Ted was interrupting her texting with her boyfriend and two bank were trying to do away with withdraw slips.
“Sir,” said the bank teller, “You can just use the atm for withdraws.”
Ted looked her in the eye and noticed a youthful kind of a sparkle that had been gone from him for awhile.
“Just read it sweat heart.”
“Car bomb.” The bank teller said with tears beginning to form in her eyes as she covered her mouth.
“Look outside.” Ted said tranquilly.
He turned around and pointed to the man who was standing in front of his truck. The man in front of his beat up pick up waved and nodded with a concerned look on his face.
The bank teller looked around for her boss. She hadn’t yet been trained for something like this.
The young bank teller started putting stacks of cash on the table. Ted started putting it in his pockets quietly. He even gave her a calming,”Shhhh Shhh.”
The bank teller was in tears.
The bank teller kept putting stacks of bills on the desk. Ted put his hand on her hand holding the cash.
“Baby that’s enough.”
All of Ted’s pockets were full. Suddenly the boss came out and froze after she noticed her new employee in tears. Ted waved and walked quickly to the front doors and opened them.
The boss yelled in fear more than anything else. “Don, Wake up we’re being robbed.”
Don stumbled out of his chair onto the floor while trying to get his gun. Ted pushed the door open forcefully with no idea on where to go. He hadn’t thought that far ahead.
Ted ran to the man with the broken down pick up and threw a wad of cash. He then ran and yelled back to the man who thought he was stranded.
“To fix pickup with.”
After the statement Don started shooting. He was a sniper in the marines. He shot again and it actually hit Ted in the side. Ted fell as blood ran down.
Ted had no plan now only to go back to his apartment. With the amount of cash he had he could have gone anywhere. Ted wasn’t thinking like that. The only thing on his mind besides the fact he was shot in the lung was Haiti.
Ted staggered and breathed gently as he went across the street to the church. He took a deep breath, and did his best to stand up straight. He wanted to look like he normally would.
The spaghetti dinner wasn’t until six that night. However the kids in the church’s youth group were setting up table and chairs, and cooking the baked spaghetti.
Ted used the wall to hold himself up.
“Something smells good in here!” He yelled which stopped the kids working in the dining hall but not the kitchen.
“We are not serving until six, sir” One of the teenagers said to him.
“I probably won’t be here at six. I would like to give a donation now.”
The statement stopped the other kids from working in the dining hall.
Ted did his best to smile as he fought for breath while throwing his treasure on the floor.
The teenager that spoke before stopped, he noticed something was wrong.
“Mr. Levine! Come quickly!”
A man with a mustache and an apron on stained with spaghetti sauce came out. Mr. Levine looked at the teenage boy first whose eyes were on the man who just emptied out his pockets with stacks of cash.
“Sir would you like me to call you an ambulance?” Mr. Levine asked.
“No,” Ted answered, “I just need to know where the chapel is. I have some skeletons in my closet. Don’t worry about me though I just had a few too many.”
Ted stood with his back on the wall.
Mr. Levine walked to the cash on the floor. Mr. Levine who understood that sometimes miracles didn’t come in pretty packages picked up some of the cash and then pointed to an exit where a hall began.
“Just go down the hall. Don’t go left just keep going straight.”
“Thank you.” Ted gasped for breathe.
“No, thank you.” Mr. Levine said as he offered in hand gestures to help Ted get to the chapel.
Ted walked slowly with a limp to the hall and then disappeared.
Mr. Levine and the other kids surrounded the money and prayed.
“Lord again you give us what we need when we ask. Thank you-“
“Where’d he go?!” Don yelled at the bystanders.
Mr. Levine scanned with his eyes the money, the kids, the cop and then back to the money.
“He’s in the chapel!!” The teenage boy who first saw Ted yelled as he pointed to the hall.
Don rushed to the hallway.
MR. Levine shook his head.
“Keep going straight!” Yell the teenage boy again.
Mr. Levine glared at him like he had daggers in his eyes.
The chapel was modest. There were no pews but folding chairs facing the pulpit which was in front of a painting portrait of Jesus standing over playful children that wanted to be held.
Ted was in the fetal position underneath the portrait. Blood was starting to collect on the floor near Ted. Don saw this and got on his cell phone.
“Subject pitched the money in on- coming traffic, and is now at church. No request for back up.”
A voice said something in static. Don turned off his cell phone.
Don looked at Ted gasping for air.
“I hope you got yourself right with God, because you are dying here tonight.”