Asymptomatic

I had gone to Richland Mall with a few folks from college as one of our usual avoidances of classwork. We had finished our tour of the one-level “ranch” mall and were standing in a small group near the planters outside of the Waldenbooks.

I don’t recall why we were loitering instead of just leaving the place, but as we stood around I removed a nickel from my pocket and began to flip it into the air and catch it. I set the nickel on the side of my bent finger and flicked it into the air with my thumbnail, each time simply catching the coin and replacing it to flick again.

A boy at the entrance of the bookstore took interest in my flipping, and stood there alone, watching. I flipped quite a few times, catching, replacing, until one time an errant flip sent the coin just out of my grasp. The nickel fell to the floor and rolled a foot or two toward the boy before I managed to step on it and stop its progression.

I looked at the boy, who looked up from my foot-covered coin, and I smiled at him as I picked up my foot and retrieved the coin. Thinking better than to flip the coin into the hallway again, I put the coin in my pocket and returned to my group of friends. The boy ran off, and I didn’t think anything of it.

I few moments later when I wasn’t paying much attention, the boy had returned. A woman I didn’t know was addressing me: “Give my son back his money.”