by Corey Deitz
“So, this is a welfare check?” asked Ford.
“Oui. So, are you okay?” asked the officer.
“Well, as you can see…I’ve been shot,” reiterated Ford, a little sarcastically. “Aside from that, I’m having a pretty good day.”
“Oui. You might want to call your friend when you are able,” advised the officer. “One more thing. We know a crime has been committed.”
The officer looked directly into Ford’s eyes.
Ford could tell he was screwed now. He fully expected the officer to start reading him a list of his rights.
“I wonder if France even has rights.” he wondered to himself.
“Yes, what happened today, well, it was a crime against all the French people and France’s guests,” said Dufour. “You will be happy to know that the men who did the shooting are all dead. They were killed by French security.”
“That’s good news,” said Ford. “I’m kind of glad somebody else besides me got shot.”
“Oui. I hope you will be feeling well soon,” said the policeman. “On behalf of the French people, I bring you their wishes for a speedy recovery.”
He turned to Angela.
“Bonne journée, Madame” he said.
He turned back to Ford.
“I have other matters to attend to. Good day. Monsieur Fallon”
And with that, he left.
Ford looked at Angela and she shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “I’m just as surprised as you are you weren’t fucking arrested!”
Yes, they were both surprised.
But, there were some things Ford did not know. For instance, how did he escape arrest when the police were obviously inquiring into his activities? And how the hell did Barton Campbell figure out where he was? Ford had been quite meticulous in telling nobody where he was going.
Well, the police did have their suspicions about Ford but, nobody at the Hotel Regina would say a bad word about “Monsieur Fallon” – especially with all those twenty-dollar tips flying about. Besides, the credit card he gave the check-in clerk to run his tab on was the card with the highest limit. True, Ford had charged thousands of dollars on it but it was all within the first 30 days of use. The initial bill hadn’t even been mailed yet, and the issuing bank would have had no way of even knowing it would wind up being delivered to a dead man’s mailbox. At least Ford had expected he would be dead by the time it arrived.
All the other charges Ford and Angela ran up were on different cards and Ford was careful to never go over any limit that might provoke the slightest computer algorithm to take notice and alert a human. As soon as a Visa or MasterCard was almost filled, he would discreetly dispose of it and move on to the next.
There was no credible evidence to Ford’s fraud – yet. True, the waitress who skimmed his credit card did expose his identity to investigators but, only as a victim. Anything past that was speculation. Even though Dufour had his suspicions, there was nothing the police could really do.
But, here’s something else you may find interesting: France is the leader in credit card fraud in all of Europe. It is a common crime and there are many other things for the police to concern themselves with. Even if you are caught and convicted, first-time offenders often get anywhere from probation to a few months in jail because it is up to the discretion of the judge, and the judges are lenient. Viva la Revolution! The French still don’t like the establishment – even if it’s in the form of a big bank.
Plus, Ford had been shot twice in a heroic act of self-sacrifice for love. What Frenchman isn’t a sucker for love? What Frenchman would not look the other way in a situation where a man put himself in harm to save the woman he adored?
Why else do the French exist if not to protect the sanctity of love? Or course he was going to dismiss any of Ford’s transgressions. After all, this was a matter of priorities and love is much more important than some petite theft!
But, what of Barton Campbell? If Barton had just done what Ford had asked without interceding, the cops would have never had any reason to notice him. Yet, Ford underestimated just how good a friend Barton was. Barton could not help but be concerned.
Several days later when Ford was released from the hospital he found a phone at an Internet café on Rue Montorgueil he could use to make an overseas call. Apparently, he had lost his iPhone, and confidant Siri, during the confusion of the Eiffel Tower attack.
“Barton? It’s Ford!” he began.
“Dude! I am so glad to hear from you. That video you sent? At first I thought you were punking me,” said Barton. “Then, I realized you were serious. You were serious, right?”
“Well, at the time, yeah…I was,” replied Ford. “But, I’m okay now.”
He looked at Angela.
“My life has significantly improved,” he said. “Oh yeah and I got shot.”
“You got what?” repeated Barton, incredulously.
“Shot,” reiterated Ford.
He then proceeded to explain in detail the incident at the Eiffel Tower, the terrorists, the bullets, the police - all much to Barton’s disbelief. When he finished there was a short pause.
“That’s totally awesome,” replied Barton. Everything was usually totally awesome to Barton.
“Uh, how did you get the money to go to France? I mean, I usually have to pick up your tab at Pizza Hut ‘cause you’re broke.”
“That’s a bit of a longer story. I’ll tell you one day over some beer.”
“Hey, I’ve got something to tell you…” said Barton.
But, Ford interrupted. He still had to know how his friend uncovered his hotel hideout.
“Hey man, the cops came to visit me in the hospital. How did you know I was staying at the Hotel Regina? I didn’t tell anybody about that. I certainly didn’t tell you.”
“Easy,” said Barton. “After I got your video I went to your trailer and looked on your computer for a history of your searches. There it was: Hotel Regina, Paris.”
“Damnit!” said Ford. “I never thought of that.”
“You need to learn how to clear your browsing history, dude,” offered Barton. “Here’s something else you never thought of: your video? The one you sent me? It’s gone viral, dude! Millions of views! People love it! Do you know what that means?”
“Kinda’ I guess,” answered Ford.
“It means you and I – we - are making money hand-over-fist because I monetize every video I upload to my YouTube channel”
“Monetize?” asked Ford.
“Ads. People are clicking the ads, man! We’re making thousands of dollars-a-day! You’re a YouTube star! You and your girlfriend! The world loves you two! Hey: you have got to do more videos together!”
“You’re shitting me,” said Ford, stunned.
“Fuckin’ A I am not!” replied Barton. “You’re going to be rich, my friend!”
Ford did not know exactly how to process this.
It was quite a surprise.
If something like this had happened prior to his short life of crime, he probably would have been beside himself with joy. But, now? Well, the money just didn’t seem as important. Finding out that his and Angela’s video was inadvertently making him rich didn’t quite matter as much.
His priorities had evolved.
Maybe that’s what facing death will do for you. He understood now that money would never really change his life. Sure, it could make it more comfortable. But, money not earned honestly will not free you, it will only imprison you. Even if you can avoid the personal demons of conscience and the authorities, you will never avoid knowing the hurt you leave behind in the people you have taken advantage of. There is a bad karma associated with skimming the system at the peril of others.
It will come back to haunt you.
Ford used to think money was all he needed to make his life better; to change it. But, now he wasn’t so sure. We are often told that ill-gotten fortunes inevitably lead to ruin. When he was acquiring the credit cards for his spe
nding spree, he always knew the penalty would either be a jail term imposed by authorities or a death sentence carried out by his own hand.
Yet, he had gotten away with it and had avoided both.
This was never in the plan.
He never considered he might just luck out and swindle the system – for real. Not only did he cheat it, he did an end-run around it. Better yet, he had found Angela and she loved him because he was Ford Fallon and for no other reason.
Not for his money or lack of.
Not because he was an insignificant convenience store clerk or the hero who saved her.
She became the witness to his history – and what more could make life worthwhile?
Isn’t that all any of us really want?
Someone to be with who cares about our journey?
* * *
A funny thing happened to Ford on his way to leaving the world.
The world took notice.
His short video was solely intended to help a few loved ones understand why he had made the decision to end his life. Without trying and with no intent, it caught the attention of millions of other people who in some personal way, identified with his motives and plight.
What was supposed to be his epitaph, instead, became a manifesto for the legions of broken people who need to know they do not struggle alone.
We all share similar fears and hopes – but, not all of us act to eliminate or exhilarate them. Many are paralyzed – sometimes their whole lifetime – by the prospect of failure. So, in the end, we choose not to even try for success.
Ford had a perfect plan to change his life and end it at the same time. The only thing he didn’t count on was love.
Love changes everything.
In the end, he cared more for Angela than he did for himself. Loving another granted him redemption from a life, uninspired.
And Angela had given Ford the most powerful gift that can be shared, a gift that asks for nothing in return and requires no reciprocal endeavor.
Love stands alone.
A man started down a path that would inevitably lead to his destruction and a woman came into his life named Angela, a name given to the world by the Greek. It is a name that comes from the word “angelos” which means “messenger of God.”
If he had met any other person, he might not have fallen in love and his plan would have likely led to his death.
If she had not met Ford, she might still have been at the Eiffel Tower that day for another reason only without him there to protect her life.
Did she rescue him – or did he save her?
Was it all just random chance or divine destiny that they met under the Popeye Rose?
Can we ever really know?
The Real Popeye Rose
The Popeye Rose
(Photograph: Christine Deitz, 2014)
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Books by Corey Deitz:
Under the Popeye Rose (2015)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Time Prisoners (2013)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Zombie, D.C. (Shmit Happens) (2012)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Holy Shmit! (2012)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Shut Up! We All Have Issues! (2011)
(Paperback, Kindle)
The 2012 Guide Book or How to Make the End of the World Fun! (2009)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Vilified! Red Meat for Conservatives from a Guy Who's Got a Lot of Beefs (2009)
(Paperback, Kindle)
Lessons from Camp: Wisdom in the Past Tents (2008)
(Paperback, Kindle)
The Cash Cage (2004)
(Kindle)
Available on Amazon.com in Kindle and Paperback
Information: coreydeitz.com
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