The Gift

2/2022

Her relationship with money had always been a curious one. Not easily understood, but very clearly an issue to grapple with. Taught from a young age to save her pennies because there was never enough money for the things she wanted, she learned that there could never be enough money to be safe from the fear of “what ifs”. As a child she took pride in saving her allowance, finding quarters in pay phone change slots, and completing odd jobs for neighbors in exchange for a payment. She saved it all up until there was something she really wanted to buy. Normally though, there was nothing she really needed, so she just saved. As she grew to adulthood, the words and teachings of her father rang loud and clear in her heart and her mind. She worked hard, always saving as much as she could, saving for that rainy day she was sure would come for her.

On one particular morning in her early 30’s she awoke from her twin bed in the cozy condo she had purchased a few years back, a product of a good saver, and went about her daily routine. Make the coffee, do a smell test on the clothes she picked to wear and prepare a sack lunch for the day ahead. As she smeared peanut butter onto the bread of her sandwich, she felt an itch behind her ear. She tried to ignore it with a little shake of her head, but when she did the itch turned to a scratch, and finally it was more than she could ignore. When she gave a good rub behind her ear, she noticed something protruding from the crease where her ear met her skull. For a moment she imagined a time when she was young and her grandfather would pull a quarter out from behind her ear; she knew that was an illusion and what she felt now was real against her fingertips. As she felt the spot, she noticed a thin paper like flap protruding from the crease. When rubbing it away didn’t produce a result, she began to pick at the material trying to remove it from her being. Finally, pinching her pointer finger and thumb nails together, she gave a firm tug and felt the material give way and remove itself from behind her ear.

She looked at the culprit of the itch and was shocked to see a $100 bill from behind her ear. Grandpa would be impressed she thought to herself as she marveled at the money. Instinctually she put her hand back on the spot to feel if there was anything else there. Sure enough, two $50 bills and a ten spot were removed from the slot behind her ear. $210 she thought in amazement, what luck! She folded the money into her pocket and went about her day feeling excited with possibility.

By the end of the day, she had considered many things to buy- a new outfit, dinner out, a trip to the movies. But a trip away would be better. She could save the money and travel someday. Or maybe she should just buy groceries and chalk her luck up to another day of survival and readiness for the future. That night she tucked the bills into the top drawer of her nightstand and fell fast asleep.

For weeks, each morning would bring the familiar itch and she would pull the money our from her ear. Sometimes large bills would appear, sometimes smaller notes. Each morning she would marvel at her good fortune and wonder what she would do with this gift. Never being able to decide and always thinking of her father’s reminders about saving, she tucked the money into the drawer, waiting for the right thing to spend it on.

During that time the drawer became quite full of bills, but being unsure how to spend the money, the woman needed a different way to store the cash. One morning she noticed the bills had become very crumpled in the drawer and she decided to iron the creases away. Alone in her home she brought the bills out to the ironing board in a bag and began to smooth each bill with the hot iron. Methodically, she pushed the iron back and forth over bill after bill, her mind taking over with thoughts of saving or spending. Spending or saving? As she continued to work, she began to dream of what she might do with her loot. She imagined a secluded island vacation and someone else cooking her meals. She imagined hot sand and the smell of salty ocean air. She imagined hotel rooms and relaxation. As her mind wandered with ways to spend this gift, she snapped from her daydream, realizing she had ironed a $20 bill for too long and it had caught fire! Throwing the bill to the tile floor, she stomped out the flame. That was close, she thought as she tucked the neatly ironed money back in the drawer. The fire reminded her to be more careful with the money, and set a new resolve in her heart that her daydreams would not get in the way of her security.

As days turned to months and months to years, she began to be accustomed to the money behind her ear. While curiosity turned to obsession, her body began to suffer. As more money was reviled a scab began to form where the bills were bestowed. She noticed that the more she spent the less money came to her the next day. But if she bucked down and horded the money more and more would spit from behind her ear. Alone is her room she would sit and scratch at the scab, waiting for the money to release. Sometimes she would pick so hard blood would drip down her neck and rest at her collar bone. Since she couldn’t see it, it never bothered her and she continued to pick and root around behind her hear for more. No longer did she call on friends because that would involve spending and spending would mean less money the next day.  

As her life continued, she did learn to spend modicums of the money she was gifted, a meal out, a trip to the movies, an item she wanted but didn’t need. Always with a sense of hesitation though; What if there isn’t enough for the day I need it? She reminded herself that there would always be a day it would be needed which reset her resolve to save. This eb and flow of spending and saving, blanketed with the ever growing pain behind her ear became the fabric of her daily life. As more money was spent, fewer notes were available the next morning which came with more picking and scratching. One fateful morning, she decided to use a butter knife as no bills were being revealed. As dull as the knife was it slid under the scab just hard enough to pop the whole hard lumpy thing off. She screeched in pain, but was calmed as two $5 bills drifted to the floor. As she gathered them from the carpet, she noted the large drips of blood on Lincoln’s face and quickly went to the bathroom to clean herself and the bills.  

When she bucked down and horded the money, the opposite seemed to happen- multiple $100 bills would materialize from behind her ear, spitting out faster than she could pull them out. On these occasions, the pain behind her ear grew from a dull ache to a hot pain, but hording became more important than physical well being and she pushed through the suffering.

The drawer next to her bed had filled up quite some time ago and she had taken to tucking the cash into her dresser as well as under her mattress. Still taking the time to neatly iron the bills for when her rainy day finally came, monitoring and receiving the money became more important than social gatherings of any kind. Besides, as the scab continued to grow, she worried that someone might notice and ask questions. Heaven forbid someone ask about her good fortune, they might try to take advantage of her!

One morning, after a particularly long stint of saving, she awoke to a searing headache from days of receiving money. As she popped a few Advil with her coffee the pain became unbearable until she removed a traveler’s check for $7,000 from behind her ear. Curious! She thought as she doubled over in pain, what to do with this amazing gift? She flashed once again on her grandfather and his illusion with the quarter, Grandpa has noting on this!

She wasn’t ready to travel to the island of her dreams, so she went to the grocery store to try and cash the check. She could buy groceries for the week, stock up on some staples and use the rest of the money to pay her bills and add a little extra onto her home mortgage. Perfect! She thought.

Unfortunately, no one would take the check. “Is that really still a thing?” a grocery clerk asked. She showed it to the person bagging food and he had never even heard of a traveler’s check. “Why don’t you go travel?” the clerk asked. “It is a traveler’s check after all.”

Maybe I will, thought the woman with an ATM behind her ear, Maybe I finally will take that trip I’ve longed for. For a moment the dull ache behind her ear that never left her vanished. With a new resolve in her heart and the ability to think without a headache, she drove straight to the airport to buy a ticket. While the idea seemed crazy, she had few responsibilities, didn’t have friends who would miss her, could use her mass of accrued sick time at work, and she was sure that she had locked her front door.

At the ticket counter the airline attendant looked bewildered, but was happy to sell the last seat on a flight headed to the South Pacific later that day. The clerk looked at the traveler’s check with amusement but took it anyways. It took some fenagling, but the airline was able to provide her with the remainder of the check in cash while she waited for her flight. Sitting at the gate for her plane, a stack of bills in her purse, she began to think of all that money. She imagined herself on the hot sand beach, the sound of the waves crashing gently on the shore and the taste of fruity tropical drinks. But then she remembered the possibilities of the future. As she gazed at the boarding gate, she squeezed the money in her purse and could feel the familiar earache returning. In the split second after releasing the squeeze, she sprang to her feet and ran from the gate. She clutched her purse and fought off the pain that began to envelop her head and neck. As she moved past the security line, past the ticket booth and out into the crowded airport departures area, she resigned to losing the money on the ticket in the name of the rainy day, the cash in hand was worth more than the trip.

As she hugged her purse to her body, and worked to breathe through the pain, she felt the familiar pushing behind her ear. Worried that she may lose some of the bills should they decide to push through the slot, she jogged back to her car. Before she could find her vehicle in the long term parking lot though a surge of pain hit her and she fell to the ground. A steady stream of money burst to the sunlight from behind her ear and she howled in pain. She grabbed at the bills unconcerned with the stares of onlookers. As a man picked up a hundred-dollar bill in amazement, she lunged for him, only to be brought back to her knees in pain. She put her purse over her hear and slowly got to her feet, head down, she walked to find her car. In the safety of her vehicle, she removed the purse and bills drifted throughout the cabin. She sat for a moment breathing long and slow to get the pain under control before making the trek back home. She continued to ignore the people pointing and the looks of worry and concern as she wove through the parking lot and out of the airport to home.

After a painful and slow drive to her condo she arrived to the safety and seclusion of her home; the place she felt safe with her horde. In her parking spot near her condo, she gathered the money and held a bag over her ear to collect the notes that flew out as she walked back to her front door. A few missed the bag and floated on down the street. She let them go reminding herself that the money was flowing quickly now, and that there was plenty for the future. After all, she didn’t want to appear crazy to her neighbors chasing after a $20 bill.

In her room she stuffed bill in drawers, filled the closet, and heaped money under her bed. She pushed the pain aside and shook pain medicine into her mouth, unconcerned with the quantity she had consumed. As she sat on her floor, she began to shove bills into the neck hole of her sweatshirt and into the sheets of her twin bed. As they continued to flow from her being she even tried to eat one. The paper was woody and raw and it was hard to get down, but her stomach seemed like a safe place to keep cash for a little later.

As her efforts became more frantic and less thought out, the money flowed from her ear at an alarming rate. No longer was she thinking about what was coming, just that she must hoard it. This money would save her someday. As the bills piled up around her, for a split second, her attention shifted again to the relaxing island she had missed out on. Her headache waned as she imagined that the greenish brown bills were her island. She eased her body slightly, and leaned into the crunch of rough paper that was the sand she longed for. The gentle breeze of bills blowing around her was the island air she dreamt of, and she imagined a palm tree swaying nearby. As her imagination carried her mind away, her body settled into the room and eventually the money stopped spitting from behind her ear. The painful headache that had consumed her eased, and for the first time in years she felt truly relaxed. Alone in her room, lost in the mental sounds of crashing waves, and the conjured image of a crisp blue sky, she drifted to sleep in a room full of bills. Her perfect island vacation; ready for the future, never minding the present.