“Store closing, come inside to get your FREE stuff!”
The sign had been noticed by some passersby at 7:00 in the morning. By 7:15 seventeen people had already lined up outside the door. By the time 9:00 rolled around, the line snaked down the sidewalk, past the police station, and had blocked traffic through the square.
Mr. Jellicoll showed up precisely 9:05, like he had for the past thirty years. He parked his 1987 Cadillac at the sidewalk and strolled through the mass of people, blissfully ignoring all the questions shooting at him.
Why was he closing?
What did he mean by free?
Was the entire store free?
Jellicoll ignored all of them and unlocked his door. The minute the key left the lock a rush of people surged inside, parting around him like the Red Sea. Mr. Jellicoll ambled to the counter, pulled out his bookkeeping supplies, and began making entries in the large folder just as he had done every morning for thirty years.
“Mr. Jellicoll, I can’t tell you how good it is to see you taking this as well as you are.” Mr. Jellicoll turned around and saw that the speaker was the very man that had turned him out of his store. Mr. Flintskin.
“Well, I have to say, I’m surprised to see you here. Weren’t you satisfied with ruining my store, or do you now have to go and ruin what’s left of my life?” replied Mr. Jellicoll.
“Take it easy, Jellicoll, I’m not here to spoil anything. I could, however, if I wanted to. You see Jellicoll, I know all about what happened back in Cedar County. I’m doing you a favor by not turning you in right now.”
“Listen Flintskin, You don’t know the whole story. The only reason I went back into that house was to save a life.”
“Sure, only in this case you ruined one, now I’m here to return the favor,” said Mr. Flintskin with a smirk
“So you are trying to mess my entire life up. I came here to start over, a clean slate, you know. Besides, why should you be paying off someone else’s score? I didn’t do anything to you.”
“That’s what you think, it was my grandma that died,” said Flintskin with a sob…
“Yours?!??! That’s impossible,” replied Jellicoll, turning pale, “She was my Grandmother too.”
“Jellicoll, what’s your first name?”
“What do you think? That other name was a cover up. I’m only going to tell you because you know everything else already. It’s Alfred.”
“Alfred Jellicoll. Alfred Jellicoll!! You’re my second cousin twice removed from when grandma divorced!!” yelled Flintskin, grasping Jellicoll by the shoulders.
Tears streaming down their old, wrinkled cheeks, the two men embraced each other. So that explained those creepy phone calls.