Cheque It Out -
Saturday 16 February 2013: I’m on my front porch. I focus in on my cherry-coloured Doc Marten boots and realise they’ve been sitting there for a few months. I decided I’d like to wear them so, worried that a spider or two may have moved into the boots, I cautiously put my hand inside the right boot. I pull out a couple of dead twigs. From the left boot, I pull out some dead leaves and surprisingly, a neatly folded rectangular piece of paper.
Curiously, I unfold the paper and read the typeface:
Pay: CASH the sum of One Thousand Dollars only. Dated: 20 December 2012. Business Account: Steel Fix. An illegible signature was affixed on the bottom right-hand side.
Dumbfounded, I sit down. Scratching my head, I don't recognise the business account or the signature. I imagine that a local billionaire believing the world was going to end on 21 December 2012, had decided to give all his money away. So, he ordered his accountants to divide and distribute his considerable estate by $1000.00 cash cheques, to be dispersed to random and unsuspecting households in socio-economically disadvantaged areas. Absurdly possible but highly unlikely!
Then, I fuzzily remembered a more mundane but real morning event in late December 2012:
Taking a shower before work, I heard a knock at my front door. I yelled, "Who is it?” I paused and listened for a reply, but the only words I caught clearly in the response from an unrecognisable male voice were, "The boot". Pretending I had heard all that he said, I bellow back, "Yeah. OK, come back later, I am busy!” I finish getting ready and now running late for work, I ran to my car, open the boot, scan the contents, find nothing out of the ordinary, I drive off. I thought nothing else of it.
Was the event I had just remembered connected to the cheque I had just found? After all, I only checked my car boot that day because, at the time, I didn’t even notice my cherry Doc Marten boots on the porch!
Somewhat satisfied with my plausible explanation of how and when the cheque ended up in my left boot, annoyingly, I could not think of a single reason why I would be given a $1000.00 cash cheque. Ultimately, I had to accept that I was not the intended recipient and that it had been delivered to the wrong address.
I let out a loud sigh, shoved an angry middle finger in the air and placed the cheque in a drawer in my bedroom.
For the next few days, I wrestled with what I should do about the cheque. And finally, on Monday 18 February 2013, I committed to a plan of action, with a 30-day deadline – 19 February to 20 March 2013; being the day when I promised to rip up the cheque if my plan of action failed.
Step 1: Confirm the cheque's authenticity;
Tuesday 19 February 2013, I reveal the cheque and the story to a trusted workmate. I ask for her professional opinion as to the cheque’s authenticity. "Yep, it checks out in my book. Just spend it!" she teases. "Yeah, NAH!" I growled. I was semi-satisfied that the cheque was authentic.
Step 2: Find the business account holder named on the cheque:
Determined, I searched telephone directories, community and national newspapers, myriads of advertisements, online search engines, companies, to no avail. I approached and cautiously questioned neighbours, local shop owners, work colleagues, family and friends about the business. Not one person had heard of ‘Steel Fix.
Each fruitless search made me believe more and more, that the business account and, therefore, the cheque, was bogus.
It’s now Friday 1 March 2013, a fluke online image search miraculously produces one single photo of the illegible signature on the cheque. I almost didn’t believe it! I used the photo to drill down to find the business account, the business address and name of its Director.
Saturday 2 March 2013: I write a letter to the Director explaining how I found a cheque from his business account made out to cash in my left boot. I also admitted that I wasn’t the correct recipient. I outlined my 30-day action plan and I requested that he call me to talk about and to corroborate the whole situation or not.
Saturday 16 March 2013: As yet, no response to my letter.
It’s late in the afternoon on Tuesday 19 March 2013, literally the day before my 30-day action plan dictates that I have to rip up the cheque. I answer a phone call with a male voice saying,
"The cheque is yours. Have you still got it? Cash it in tomorrow morning. I see what you go through. It was to make your Christmas a bit better".
Meanwhile, as he is talking, I am frantically thinking ‘What who goes through? So, the cheque is not a fake? What did he just say?'
He continues,
"I see you and your daughter. I see how hard it is to get her from her wheelchair into your car. You don’t have a hoist or a mobility vehicle. I bet it's not easy for either of you; life must be tough sometimes. I have a son with a disability, but at least, he can walk. It was to make your Christmas a bit better. The money is yours".
I am speechless and embarrassed. I manage to blurt out “Thank you”, and I end the call.
Although I remain suspicious, I elect not to destroy the cheque as, I had located the account owner and, on the face of it, he confirmed that I was actually its rightful recipient!
Wednesday 20 March 2013: I’m still having trouble believing that someone would just gift $1000.00 to my daughter and I. But I take a close friend with me and park my unwarranted car by the Bank.
Still sitting there, my imagination runs rampant and within split seconds, conjures up surreal scenarios;
It's probably a big prank and any minute now a YouTube troupe will start dancing and singing with a TV crew recording my every horrific reaction or,
The bank teller will look at the cheque, will laugh out loud and will use a loudspeaker to announce the cheque is fake or,
At the counter, huge red lights will start flashing, triggered by a not-so-silent alarm, the bank's doors will slam shut, members of the armed offenders squad will swoop in through the huge glass windows, throw me on the floor, handcuff and arrest me, because the cheque was stolen from a previous armed hold up and the robbers are still at large!
I slowly walk towards the bank and I redial the Director’s phone number. I need to double-check that his phone number is still valid.
I see pirate ships, Jolly Rodgers and feel a narrow wooden plank wavering beneath my feet.
He answers I snap out of it. I wait for the burst of laughter and ridicule, but it doesn't come.
I stutter, "Um, hh-hi. I'm on the plank, uh no, I mean, I’m at the bank. Is everything O-OK?”
In a solemn and comforting voice, he replies,
"Cash the cheque, the money is yours".
So, I do.
Note that the Business Account name has been changed.
Comments