Brindle's Odyssey

by Nicholas Antinozzi

I was welcomed back into the town as a hero. I was paid for the job and I split it evenly among my men. There was a huge bonus check and we split that, as well. I was able to junk my old trailer home and buy a new doublewide. I also bought a used dump-truck and suddenly found myself a busy man. Life had become good and I was a respected man in my community. I began attending church and I would stop by to visit my grandfather whenever I had some spare time.

  Summer turned to fall, then to winter, and then to spring. I will never forget the day it happened and I will do my best to recreate it for you. I was outside with my dog, Stanley, a dachshund I had rescued from a local shelter. Stanley follows me everywhere and I talk to him as if he knows every word that comes out of my mouth. I like to think that he does. The morning was cool, but the day quickly warmed and it was one of those days when everything seems to bloom at one time. We sat in the grass and played catch with a tennis ball. I never toss the ball far, Stanley’s back legs have failed him and he hops around like a baby seal. He doesn’t seem to mind.

  I could hear the car from a long ways off. I hadn’t been expecting company and it was a Sunday, so I doubted anyone would bother me about work. Still, there was something inside of me that said to pay attention to that car. I gave the ball a toss and got to my feet, brushing the grass clippings from my trousers. The car began to slow, but it shot past my driveway before skidding to a halt. There was a grinding sound as someone shifted into reverse and I grimaced. The car, a sky-blue Saturn, began to back up and it quickly lurched onto my driveway.

  There was no mistaking the car. It belonged to Abe’s granddaughter, Theresa. I began to jog over toward it, the sun glaring off of the windshield, making it impossible to see the driver. Poor Stanley hobbled behind me with the tennis ball stuck in his mouth. We stopped twenty feet away and I gasped when the car door opened. It wasn’t Theresa.

  Man Killer stood there looking more beautiful than ever. She wore a flowered summer dress and white sandals on her little feet. She stared at me for a long minute. “Mr. Brindle?” she asked. “Huckleberry Brindle?”

  I ran to her and stopped as she pulled away, nearly climbing back inside her car. “Wait,” I said. “Man Killer, don’t you know me?”

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “You must have me mistaken for somebody else. Man Killer?”

  I could feel my stomach falling and my knees became weak. I shook my head and tried my best not to lose my composure. I was sure this was my Man Killer and this all seemed like a cruel joke. Still, I knew that my wife would never play such an evil prank upon me.

  “My name is Melody Hollowfoot. I have some very important papers that I need to go over with you. Do you mind? I could come back at another time…”

  Melody Hollowfoot? I thought, feeling the strength rush back to my limbs. “Now is perfect,” I said. “Why don’t you grab your things and set them over there on the picnic table. Would you like a glass of lemonade?”

  “Thank you. That would be very nice.”

  A few moments later we were sitting at the picnic table, sipping our lemonade as Melody opened up a black briefcase and produced some papers. “This,” she said, pointing to the first paper on the stack. “This is the Last Will and Testament of Major Barnabus Soliah. Apparently he was your grandfather, but you were adopted and the two of you had never met. You are his last surviving heir. This is a little strange because he died so long ago.”

  I cringed at the sound of his name and I smiled when she said I was the last of his bloodline. Melody recoiled at this, looking completely shocked by my attitude. “Sorry, I heard the guy was a real asshole.”

  “Excuse me,” Melody said. “This asshole left you a lot of money. More money than you can possibly imagine. I think we could refer to him with a little more respect.”

  “I don’t want a nickel of his money. Do you got that?” I said, pushing the papers away from me as if they were diseased. “I don’t care how much it is.”

  “Mr. Brindle…”

  “Mister Brindle was my father’s name. You can call me Huck.” I watched Stanley hop over to her and he rested his head on her shoe. She reached down and scratched behind his ears.

  “Huck, please, you have to hear me out on this. I was paid to give you this information.”

  “Consider it given. There is no way in hell that I am accepting his money. What do I need to sign?”

  “The money is already yours, I am afraid it doesn’t work like that,” Melody said, removing a pair of glasses from the briefcase and setting them lightly on her nose. She looked so beautiful that I wanted to reach out and kiss her. I was only barely able to restrain myself. “The money is waiting in your name in a Swiss bank account. Here are the numbers and necessary documents. You are a very rich man, Huck. I don’t think you understand. The money is yours.”

  “I don’t think you understand, I don’t want the money. When are we going to finish this dance, Melody? What about if I give the money to charity, would that be okay?”

  “Well, I suppose so, but---“

  “Go ahead, pick a charity. I really don’t care; the choice is up to you. I am not taking a cent of that money. That is final. Pick a charity, Melody, any one you wish.”

  “You’re serious, aren’t you?”

  “I have never been more serious in my entire life.”

  “My grandfather created a scholarship for Native Americans. I’ve always held it close to my heart.”

  “That’s where the money is going. Done.”

  “You’re going to make a lot of young people happy,” Melody said, wistfully. “This is a lot of money, Huck; you’re going to make some big headlines.”

  “Oh no, I don’t want any credit. That’s the deal. I want to remain anonymous. I can do that, right?”

  “I suppose you can, why not? Oh my God, wait until they find out at the office. This is going to blow their minds! Do you mind me asking why you would give away a fortune like this? You don’t even know the actual dollar amount.”

  “And I don’t want to know. I am happy here. I have a good life. Stanley and I have all that we need and I wouldn’t know what to do with a fortune. Besides, that man was a total asshole. Please don’t call him my grandfather. My grandfather lives on the other side of town and he is a great man.”

  Melody smiled and shook her head in disbelief. “Whatever you say, Huck. I’ll get back to the office and fill out the necessary documents. I will stop by tomorrow for your signature. Is that all right with you?”

  “What’s your rush?” I asked. “We don’t get much company out this way and you’ve hardly even touched your lemonade.”

  Melody looked at me for a long moment with a smile playing at the corners of her mouth. The look made me think of Man Killer and I wanted to take her in my arms and never let her go. Our eyes locked. “I am sure your girlfriend wouldn’t like that. Unless you’re married, is there a Mrs. Brindle?”

  I laughed at that. “No and no. I am completely single, what about you, Melody? Are you in a committed relationship?”

  “Oh, heavens no; who has time for relationships? I work sixty hours a week and there just isn’t time for a social life. I haven’t even been out on a date in nearly two years.”

  “It’s been a lot longer than that for me.”

  Melody’s eyes twinkled. “Is that right?” she asked. “Well, Huck, maybe you and I should do something about that?”

  I smiled as our eyes met. We sat there for nearly two hours in the spring sunshine as flowers bloomed and lives changed. A lone eagle soared overhead and I knew without a doubt that it was my grandfather. My true grandfather: Odd Whitefeather.

  The old guy still had a few tricks up his sleeve.

  THE END (or is it?)

  About the author:

  Nicholas Antinozzi is a lifelong resident of Minnesota and currently resides in St. Paul.

 
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