This is a True Story (Really)

Robin Agnew

 

My mom has been begging me to write about this, and now it’s been long enough that I can. For awhile I was too weirded out by the whole thing to write about it. As every retailer knows, we all have customers who are a bit on the odd side. 4 or 5 years ago (maybe 6) I first met a customer we came to call Elmer, because of his resemblance to Elmer Fudd. E. wasn’t actually a customer, though I thought he might be when I first met him.

 

What E. really was, was lonely. He lived in Toledo and he had virtually no family, and so every Thursday for several years, he made the trip to Ann Arbor to visit Aunt Agatha’s, the video and ice cream stores up the block, and the bakery across the street. And E. told some incredible tall tales. I mentioned his resemblance to a certain fictional figure, yet he insisted, during all the time I knew him, that he had been a mercenary. He claimed his education at the University of Toledo had left him unsuited for any other career.

 

He told me - and my husband and our assistant - all kinds of stories about wild knife fights in South America, Miami, and on the streets of Detroit. He claimed Barbara Stanwyck and his mother had gotten into a fist fight at a rest stop outside Detroit. And he always mentioned his 7 foot tall bodyguard, Rocco, who was always with him - though always across the street somewhere he couldn’t be seen. Some of the stories - especially one about a wild chase of the "baddies" through Walt Disney World - seemed directly lifted from movies (he didn’t read books, he said they hurt his eyes).

 

He also mentioned that he planned to eventually kill himself, as he didn’t fancy getting old with no one to take care of him. And he said that when he did he was going to leave me some money in a trust fund. I took this information - though I thanked him - with the same grain of salt that I’d used when I’d listened to all his other stories.

 

By the end of the three years or so that I knew him, I actually didn’t look forward to Thursdays, as I knew E. would turn up for an hour or more with his "stories." He always began them with "Hello, pretty lady." I took to doing my bookkeeping or pricing or shelving when he was there, but he still kept talking.

 

Anyway, the last time I saw him, he told me he was going through with his plan, and that I should have a nice life. I felt terrible, and told him I hoped that wasn’t true. But after a few weeks went by and we hadn’t seen him, I began to wonder. I googled him, and indeed found his obituary - and he had killed himself in the very way he told me he would. I truly couldn't believe it - nor could my husband or our assistant.  However, I still discounted the "legacy" he had told me about.

 

A couple months later I got a call from a lawyer in Toledo, who said that he had a check for me for $500, from E. We were stunned! This was all I ever expected to hear. Then a few more months went by, and I got another call from the lawyer. E. had apparently left me $25,000 of his life insurance settlement. To say I was shocked was an understatement.

 

And I was relieved - I have a daughter starting college, and this was a very handy bequest. We took some of it and went on a wonderful trip to Walt Disney World, where we offered E. a family toast one night at dinner. And that, I thought, was the end of it. However, a few more months passed, and I got another call from the lawyer, who said he would like to speak to me about the trust. Had he mentioned there was the matter of another $25,000? Um, no, I would have remembered that. I think the surprises are over (the lawyer confirms it) but to say I am still thunderstruck is an understatement.

 

I also have mixed feelings, since E. was someone we all tolerated, but never really liked. He was an irritant during our day, and sometimes a distraction from customers, etc. So "guilt" is a big feeling. I’m also a big believer in karma, and I’m not sure listening to someone talk for a few years merits this kind of reward. But like I said, I have a daughter starting college, and I’m very grateful. In a way E. lives on, I think in the way he had hoped. We all still talk about him, sometimes, now, fondly.

Comments

[bookwitch]

Think about it. You are lonely and know you have money that needs leaving to someone when you die. Why not that person who lets you chat once a week? Maybe all the others kicked him out?

I get picked on for the talking by people I don't want to know. Don't think there is any money in it, though. But it just happens.

[Lartonmedia]

Wow, what a story, Robin! Like Bookwitch says, you gave him time when others probably didn't.

[Gary Corby]

That is just totally weird.

Now if this were a novel, Rocco would turn up one day bleeding from a dozen bullet wounds and with a story from E's time as a mercenary commander in the Congo.

[Robin Agnew]

If Rocco ever turned up, I would truly have to doubt everything I've ever thought was true!

[Barbara Poelle]

WOW! This story is amazing! And I can't wait for Rocco to make an appearance...

[Odundo Eric]

Timely breakthrough