"I'm Rich!" (A short story)

"9 bucks? What can I do with this?"  He checked his pocket again. Nothing more. He checked his other pockets... No miracles in there, either.

His hats weren't hot on the market - he had no hits. His persistent peddling wasn't providing pennies and his caps couldn't collect coins. It was killing him.

"God, if you wanna drop some cash from the sky, now's a good time. I could really use it." He pushed his cart uphill, wondering how on earth he could pay his rent in a couple weeks with what he was making.

212 steps to the brown apartments, 403 to the nicer, beige apartments, and 694 steps to the residential neighborhood where some older folks occasionally bought a hat or two for their grandchildren. The salesman was glad he never saw those kids' disappointed faces, for his products were in adequate shape at best. After a swing by the convenience store, it was back around again, walking his routes, rarely leaving those blocks.

"You know, God... I believe you provide. I believe you're with me now. But come on. I need money! I dropped my problems on you and you dealt with them. It's been 5 years since I took that plunge underwater, guided by the preacher, when you spoke to me that day, 'You're mine, now and forever.' I've only been in jail once in 5 years, but the whole time I've been freer than I've felt since I was a kid."

A nice car drove by, driven by a normal looking guy. In the passenger seat sat a beautiful blonde with a silent grin on her face. For some unknown reason, he was filled with frustration and anger. He scowled at the car, "It sucks being poor. It sucks being alone. No one gives a shit about me, here on the street, trying to get by, honestly." He knew that selling hats was honest, but sometimes he had to convince himself.

It was just then he saw Joe's house and the car in front of it. Something about the car was the nudge over the edge. "If I'm gonna make it this month, I need some cash," he thought. "It's time to start collecting what's mine." He left his route, approached a duplex, left his cart by some lawn chairs and knocked on the scratchy door. "Joe? Come on out!" Joe, a shirtless man with a big, round nose, emerged. "Hey man, I don't want impose or anything, but you remember that twenty bucks?" Joe remembered. "Well I need that back, and soon. Can you do that?" He could. "Hey Joe... are those new rims?" They were. "Figured. I'll come by for a visit in a few days, if that's alright." It was.

It was time for bed. After a forgettable sleep, the peddler did his morning routine and set back on the road with his wheeled burden. He felt a little bad about approaching Joe like he had, but sometimes you need to take matters into your own hands.  He thought about praying. Mornings were a bit sunnier when he prayed, it seemed. He saw some nicely dressed people walking down the street, and then some more. Church. They were going to church. It was Sunday. A thought struck him and after a momentary battle, he surprisingly made up his mind. He parked his cart behind the church by their dumpster and a fence.

Inside, he was confronted with bright faces that smiled at him. He didn't recognize a single song, but everybody seemed so happy it didn't bother him. "What are they gonna play that I know, anyway? A Pearl Jam song?" He sat in the back and soaked it in. Words rang through his ears, "Saved," "Heaven," "Jesus," "Resurrection." It felt like his gas tank was filling up. It got even stranger and stronger. His eyes and nose got wet. His chest was tight. "More than emotions," he thought in the back of his head. He'd felt this before - he felt touched... and happy! Trying to put words to this experience, all that came out was, "I feel so rich!"

A quick second later a rock-slide of convicting thought crashed into his mind; "I felt so poor, but I didn't need to! I've got no money, but I'm no pauper. I'm rich! I have so much, so much... Thank you."

On his way home, past the convenience store, he crossed paths with Kathy. He smiled and nodded at her, and she skipped towards him. "Hey there, I've got that money for ya. You don't remember? You lent me 30 bucks for my rent. It was like, 3 months ago. Well here ya go; I'm a man of my word. Ha!" Not two minutes later George clapped his hands and ran towards the cart. "Hey baldy, I've got your cash! Thanks for those hats, man, I was in a real pinch. But my girl loved 'em! Take it easy." Further up the block, he was speechless and now without a smile; lips slightly parted and eyes blank. Of all people, Joe showed up.

"Hey Jim! Here's that 20. Sorry it was late. I'll buy a couple hats as interest, huh? Alright, see ya man. You're gonna make it - we're all in this together. Peace."