Jewel In His Hat

"Are you married?" the man asked. Was he trying to hit on me? I
hoped not; he had missing teeth, a straggly long beard and he wreaked
of booze. He wore a red cap that said EAGLE CONSTRUCTION on the front,
and it looked a bit small as it sat on top of his head rather than
fitting around it. His pants were held up by dirty red suspenders, and
cut half-way up his calf in the fashion that loggers do, so their
clothing doesn't catch on something deadly and kill them.

"Yes I am!" I answered truthfully. I didn't want him to even think he
had a chance with me.

"Oh? And what does this lucky old man do for a living?"

"Well, he's a carpenter, and he's not old; he's younger than I am, in
fact!" I responded proudly. My husband is younger than I, and very good
looking for this old bird.

"Is he? Well that's too bad," he said, taking a drink from his beer
bottle.

"Too bad? Why do you say that?"

"Because one day he may wake up and realize he wants to play with the
kids again,"he said, turning to look at me.

"No, HE asked ME to marry him! He's attracted to older women. And, some
say he's lucky to have one of his own!" I said snottily. How dare he
make that judgement; he didn't even know my husband or me.

"A woman like you needs someone more like me," he said. Oh, how I
wanted to respond to that statement, but I didn't; I was polite. "I can
make your wildest dreams come true, and when you tire of the young man
and want some company your own age, I'll be right here waiting for you,
okay?"

I couldn't believe his boldness, but then he was drunk. I stayed
polite. "Well you'll get to meet him in a few minutes; he's meeting me
here soon." I'd no sooner said this, when my husband put a hand on my
shoulder from behind me. I introduced him to the man at the bar, who
seized him up and down before shaking my husband's hand.

"Please, allow me to buy you a drink!" the stranger offered. "You are
such a lucky duck, I gotta buy you a drink!" My husband gave him a
strange look, and I then gave my husband one that he knew meant, 'Humor
the old guy, Honey.' He did.

We sat and talked with the stranger for a while and then got up to
leave. The man next to me put a hand on my arm after I'd put my coat on
and winked. "Don't forget what I said; I'll be right here." I smiled
and said good-bye, and we went home. I didn't have another thought
about the old man until the next day when I was at work in the
restaurant down the road from that bar. He walked into the five star
establishment, looking as hillbilly and out of place as ever. He looked
around the large room and saw me, then smiled and took a seat at the
bar. I was the bartender, so I went to take his order.

"What'll it be today?" I asked.

"Beer. In the bottle please, you can keep the chilled glass," he said.
"You're just as pretty as you were last night! You tired of that young
thing at home yet?"

"He's not at home, he's at work and no, I'm not tired of him," I
replied, smiling. He was persistent, I had to give him that, and I was
surprised that he even remembered our conversation from the night
before.

"Well, when you want a man more your age, I'll be waiting." He didn't
bring up the subject again until he left a couple of hours later, when
he reminded me that he'd be waiting, again.

My husband came home from work a little late that evening, smelling of
Rum.

"Have fun tonight?" I asked him. He rarely went out without me, so I
didn't mind that he had.

"Yeah, well I hadn't intended on going out at all, but I went to your
work to see if you'd left yet and I saw that old guy from the bar last
night. You know what he said?"

"Um, let's see... that you were too young and I'd soon want a man my
own age - or that you'd soon tire of me, and he could make my wildest
dreams come true, and he'd be waiting when it happened." My husband
looked at me with a surprised look.

"Yes, and he bought me a drink because I'm such a 'lucky duck' again!"
I had to laugh at the way he said this, struggling to get his coat off
after having had one too many drinks.

"He's decided that he will have me when I'm finished with you, and he
buys you drinks because you're so lucky to have me," I explained.
"Don't worry; I'm not looking for a new playmate just yet," I assured
him jokingly.

"He keeps calling me a lucky duck, though... I don't think I like
that."

"Oh, Honey, just humor the old man. He's probably pickled anyway," I
said, shrugging it off.

For the next several months we saw this man everywhere we went. He
always bought my husband a drink - because he was such a lucky duck.
The man came to my work every day too, and each time I saw him, he
reminded me of his promise to be waiting. He was, to me, just another
of the wonderfully colorful characters that we'd seen come into this
town, and I was always polite to him, as was my generous husband.

One day he called me over to the bar, citing that he had something for
me. I waited while he took off his small cap and brought out a piece of
cellophane that had something inside it. His scarred, stubby fingers
treated it very gently, as if it were something that would break
easily, as he unwrapped the contents. It was a piece of something
white; about an inch in diameter, though not completely round.

"What is it?" I asked; I was curious of it, having never seen one
before.

"It's a halibut's ear bone," he explained. "Back in the old days we
used these for money. Then they started making jewelry out of them and
you just can't get them anymore."

"Can't you go to the cannery and get some halibut heads and get them
yourself?"

"Nope! They won't let you. You can't even buy them anymore; good as
rubies, they are!" He said proudly, holding the one he had brought.
"Here," he said, handing it to me. "This one's yours." His face looked
as if he had just given me a ruby! I could see he was doing something
he considered very generous, so I responded in kind, not wanting to
hurt his feelings.

"Oh, thank you very much!" I said, pretending joy. The other girls
working with me wanted to see what my gift was, and I showed it off to
them as if it were the gemstone that the old guy had considered it, and
they each gave me a look as if to say, 'Whatever turns your crank....'
I put it in my pocket and got back to my job. As usual, the man
reminded me of his promise before he'd gone out of the bar.

"I'll be waiting to make your dreams come true, Beautiful!" he called
out with a wink. I waved and kept on with my duties.

After work the girls had decided to stay a bit late and have a drink
and I joined them. Having had a few as time passed, we talked and
laughed at each other, and the conversation turned to men that
irritated us.

"At least I don't have an old man following me around like a puppy,"
one of the girls commented, aiming her statement at me.

"Hey, he's harmless," I said. "The most irritating thing about that old
man is that he keeps calling my husband a lucky duck, but that doesn't
bother me at all! And as long as he keeps buying the drinks, I don't
think my husband minds all that much, either!" We laughed. Well, most
of us laughed; Cheryl didn't.

"If I had a rich old geezer after me, I'd probably dump the hubby and
take him for a ride!" she said, a bit drunkenly.
The other girl and I gave her a look.

"Rich? What makes you think he's rich? Have you not noticed his
appearance"? I asked Cheryl.

"Or his smell?" the other girl chimed in.

"Who cares? With the money he's got, I could overlook such things," she
responded. I thought her a bit crass for this, but it didn't really
matter.

"So what makes you think he's so rich?" the other girl asked Cheryl. I
was interested in her answer, too.

"He has ten mil in the bank!" Cheryl said. The other girl and I looked
at each other with disbelief; he was so dirty and poor looking. "He was
driving out the road North one day," she continued, "when the car in
front of him crashed. He stopped and pulled the driver out of the wreck
and it blew up seconds later. He really saved the guys' life. He went
on with life as usual, and one day he got a letter from a lawyer down
south asking him to come to a meeting. He told the guy that was a bit
far to go for a meeting he didn't know the reason of, and the lawyer
told him he'd make it worth his while to do it, and he did. He borrowed
money from my father to go, so I know it's true."

We looked at Cheryl, waiting for the rest of the story.

"The guy he'd pulled out of that wreck ten years ago died, and left him
ten million bucks!" Our mouths dropped open; Cheryl wasn't one to
string us along, even after five or six hot toddies.

After that night I looked for the man to come each day. He didn't. I
didn't see him in the bar, the store, or on the street. He seemed to
have just disappeared off the face of the Earth. Finally I asked a
customer about him at work, and was told the old guy had experienced a
heart attack on his boat and died; they found him afloat with only his
old dog left alive.

I couldn't stop thinking about that old man. He had rotten teeth,
ragged clothes, a hat that was much too small for him, and yet he had
all this money. His car was old and rusted out, and in bad need of a
muffler. He had no attitude, put on no aires of being better than
anyone else around him, and he never showed off his riches. I
remembered the day he'd given me the halibut earbone; happy and proud
as if it were a valuable ruby. I still didn't want to ditch my handsome
young husband for him, but he now had a different value in my eyes. A
person that money truly could not change.

And I wondered. Was the jewel in his hat really the fish earbone? I
think maybe it was the man. I wonder if he's still waiting for
me......

I had that earbone mounted and wear it on a necklace. When anyone asks
me about it, I tell them it's my ruby from a jewel.