DEVIN, A LOST WALLET,
THE BROOKLYN BRIDGE
Someone I Used to Know
by Linda S Barth
“Hey, mister! Stop!”
He paused on the Brooklyn Bridge walkway as a teenager sprinted toward him. Threadbare clothes, hair no barber had touched, yesterday’s dirt smudges on a thin face, one he’d seen years ago in a mirror’s reflection.
“You dropped this!” Grubby hands unfolded a wallet. “That you – Jeff Radler?”
A slow nod. “That’s me. Thanks, kid.”
“No problem.” A pivot back toward Brooklyn.
“Wait! Let me give you something!”
The teenager shook his head. “Nah, that’s okay. I just want to do the right thing.”
He pressed his last twenty dollars into the boy’s hand. “So do I.”
Lost and Found
Father was talking with a new resident when Devin walked in.
“Franz, let me introduce my son, Devin.”
Devin offered his hand. “Nice to meet you. Is your last name Pfeiffer?”
“Yes,” said Franz, puzzled.
“Excuse me for a moment.”
He returned quickly. “I found this yesterday in the park under the Brooklyn Bridge. I recognized you from your license.”
Franz began to cry as he opened his wallet and pulled out a photo.
“My only picture of my wife. I thought it was gone forever. Thank you for returning her to me.”
“She was beautiful.”
“She was my life.”
by Rebecca Gibson
He’d seen Paris from the Eiffel Tower, heck, he’d seen the view from mystical Mt. Kailash – but the center of his universe would always be New York, no matter how far he traveled. From the Brooklyn Bridge, he could see Central Park…
He turned abruptly. Not yet.
A woman walking briskly – expensive red coat – his shoulder bumped hers.
“Pardon me!” He put his hand to his heart apologetically, the other hand in her Hermés purse.
A few steps, then turn, call back – “Excuse me again, Miss, I think you dropped this!” Hand the wallet back, lighter by a few twenties.
They lay on a blanket, admiring the sunset over the Brooklyn Bridge. The sky sparkled with many colors; the view was truly amazing.
“Devin, we had a lovely afternoon…and to think if Zach hadn’t found that wallet, we wouldn’t have discovered how much we have in common.” She looked at him with captivating eyes and smiled encouragingly.
“If there was any ID inside, then we wouldn’t take advantage of those inside tickets to the Brooklyn Museum…and thanks to all these things, it started something extremely interesting, Jenny,” he whispered, bringing his mouth closer in a very gentle kiss.
You Think You Know Me
By PearlAnn SnowStar
Devin was walking on the Brooklyn Bridge and noticed the wallet. He picked it up and looked through it. There was a faded picture of a young couple and one expired credit card. Maybe he could use the name?
Suddenly, he recognized that name.
That night, he visited an elderly man named David, who was in a hospital. Devin gave David the wallet. David took out the picture. He smiled and said, “I’m going to meet her soon.” His last words.
Devin felt tears in his eyes, but also felt good, really good. He had helped a Helper die happily.
by Katie A
“Father!” Vincent and Devin shouted.
“What on Earth…” Father said as his young sons ran into the library.
“I found this wallet under a storm grate, and this was inside it!” Devin exclaimed, holding an unfolded document aloft for Father to see. “It says the Bearer of this document owns the Brooklyn Bridge!”
Father took the document from eight-year-old Devin and said, “Yes, well…”
How to explain to a child about the oldest gag in New York?
“Devin, I believe you can’t REALLY own the Brooklyn Bridge.”
“Aw, man. I knew it was too good to be true,” Devin lamented.
The man left his shoes, strangely … and his wallet, not so strange.
To end life slipping off the Brooklyn Bridge. Why? The world beckons. A ticket to another life costs the price of a day’s commute in New York.
Leave! Try again! Become again!
You leave your I.D. and old shoes, like him, I guess.
You leave … everyone …
It’s wonderful … and awful.
*Devin pockets the wallet. Police need called.*
But to this black despair, this starless night, I swear … never.
Everyone must arrive in the undiscovered country eventually. I plan on being an unwilling traveler.
A Change is Gonna Come
by JoAnn Baca
The dashing man with intriguing facial scars halted his practiced spiel. He turned to the tourists he was leading on a bike tour across the Brooklyn Bridge. “Lower Manhattan sparkles in this sunlight, doesn’t it?”
As the tourists stopped and pulled out cameras, Devin smiled. What had begun as a desperation business hustle had morphed into a great little tourism opportunity, a niche that others would undoubtedly exploit soon, but until something else came along, it’d do.
He looked down. A wallet.
“Reward if found.”
He caught the name: Joseph Maxwell.
DA’s Office? Hmmm…
Life was full of happy accidents.