Chapter Eleven
Ben sat low in his seat and stared out the window as the bus left the station. While the bus navigated toward the highway, Ben gave one final look at his godforsaken town and vowed never to return. As far as the people in the town were concerned, Ben Owen was a ghost. He had no contact information, no fixed address, and no living relatives. Ben reclined his seat, made some adjustments to get comfortable, and then dozed off.
It was early in the morning when the bus slowed to a stop. The change in momentum was enough to wake Ben from his slumber. He opened his eyes and noticed people standing in the aisle and reaching overhead for their carry-on luggage. Ben did likewise, first rising from his chair and stretching. The long bus ride in the uncomfortable seat had put a kink in his back and he was trying his best to massage it out. It did not help that he was out of shape and soft. Getting fit was one idea he was considering — a part of Ben 2.0.
He looked out the window and was happy to see the weather was nice. When the line started to move, Ben exited the bus with his fellow passengers. The cool air hit Ben’s face and he inhaled a deep breath. It felt great after having breathed in the same stale recirculated air from the bus all night. He looked around to take in the sights and was a bit overwhelmed by the large city. Unsure what to do next, Ben watched what everyone else was doing. Nearly all the passengers from the bus headed inside the station, so that was what he did as well.
The station was noisy as it was bustling with people. It was such a drastic difference from the small town in which he had grown up in. He wheeled his luggage through the station and looked at all the fast-food chains, some of which he had never seen in Cold Lake. The glorious smell of pancakes, bacon, and fresh breads wafted in the air and found its way into Ben’s nostrils. Immediately, his stomach growled and he decided to stop for breakfast and collect his thoughts.
Ben ordered a combo meal and when his order came up, he took his tray of food to a vacant table. He sat down and parked his luggage by his side. For the first time in a long while, he had a smile on his face. He was delighted to get out of Cold Lake and have a new experience. Although he had never been on a vacation before, he had a feeling this was what it would be like. It was as if he were living someone else’s life.
As he chowed down on his food, he looked around at all the new faces. None of them had any idea who he was. Arriving in Calgary was a new beginning for him — a chance to start fresh. He could reinvent himself and become whoever he wanted to be. He had no idea what possibilities lay ahead for him in the future, but he was eager to find out.
After his meal, Ben continued to walk through the station until he found an exit. When he went outside, he entered into an awaiting taxi. Everything seemed to be coming together for him so nicely, he just hoped his luck would continue and that the title transfer would go just as smoothly — in and out.
The window in the back of the taxi only rolled down halfway, otherwise Ben would have stuck his entire head out of it. The cab made its way through the busy downtown streets, providing Ben an opportunity to take in the sights. The tall sky-scrapers, packed sidewalks, and congested traffic were all new to him. Coming from Cold Lake, Calgary seemed like New York City by comparison.
The law firm of Epstein, Windsor, & Associates was among the largest in the city. The taxi pulled up curbside in front of the large building. After paying his fare, Ben lugged his suitcase from the trunk up to the revolving glass doors. It was the first time Ben had been in a door like that and was thrilled to give it a try as if it were some kind of carnival ride.
Once inside, Ben stood still, casting his gaze upward at the enormous entranceway. He was transfixed by the ornately-decorated ceiling, which extended over two-storeys tall. The interior of the building suggested it was a place where the city’s richest and most powerful business people conducted multi-million dollar mergers and acquisitions. Whether that was true was yet to be determined. The place was complete with modern fixtures, polished tile floors, marble columns, and dark wood accents. Ben felt a little out of place, but tried not to let his discomfort show. Like he had done with the process server, Ben located the firm on the directory and rode the elevator up to the top floor.
As it was one of the city’s largest law firms, the office was easy to find. Ben exited the elevator and entered through the glass doors. Sunlight poured in from the floor-to-ceiling windows, which surrounded the prestigious office. Ben was greeted by the receptionist and was told Mr. Windsor would be with him shortly. Ben walked over to the window and looked out at the magnificent view of the city.
“Can I get you a beverage while you wait, Mr. Owen?” the receptionist asked.
“A water would be great, thanks.”
“Certainly.”
The receptionist disappeared for a moment before promptly returning with an ice-cold bottle of water.
“Here you are,” she said, handing it to him.
Ben accepted the water and thanked the woman kindly. He was not used to being treated so nicely, but assumed most people who had an appointment with Mr. Windsor were fairly well off and expected a certain level of treatment.
While marvelling the view and sipping his water, Ben felt a tremendous sense of gratitude. He could not help but feel grateful for the fortune that had been bestowed upon him, especially after suffering such a harrowing loss four days prior. Despite being only ten floors up, he felt as though he were on top of the world, both literally and figuratively.
“Mr. Owen,” a man’s voice said.
Ben turned around and saw a dapper man dressed in a navy pinstripe suit. He approached Ben with an extended palm.
“Gary Windsor, pleasure to meet you.”
“Hi,” Ben said with as much confidence as a lost puppy.
“How was the trip?” Gary asked, leading Ben into his office.
“It was good, I guess.”
The office was nothing like the process server’s in Cold Lake. For starters, it was nearly four times the size and was kept immaculate. Everything seemed much more high-end from the various art pieces, the imported rug, and of course the furniture. There were even a few more framed degrees hanging on the wall.
“Did Wendy offer you a beverage?” the lawyer asked.
“Yes, she did, thanks,” Ben said, holding up his water.
With his clothes still smelling like a campfire, Ben sat hunched over in the lawyer’s office waiting to become the benefactor of some mysterious inheritance. Until Ben actually saw the documents, he would not fully believe it was true. After all, he kept asking himself why some stranger would leave him with his entire estate. The whole thing was a little surreal, but Ben had nothing to lose and a lot to gain.
“Let’s get started, shall we?” the lawyer asked, placing a file folder on the desk.
“So you said you have never heard of Charles Gringer?” the lawyer asked out of curiosity.
“Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all. I was just making conversation.”
“Before I spoke with you, I had never heard the name Charles Gringer before in my life.”
“He obviously knew you.”
“Is this type of thing common… you know, where someone leaves their estate to a complete stranger.”
“Well, not quite like this. We get the odd case every now and again where people donate their estates to charities. This is kind of the same thing, except you are the sole benefactor.”
“Is there any more information in your file regarding why he chose me?”
“No, there’s nothing to explain Mr. Gringer’s motivation for doing what he did. Maybe he’s your long-lost relative.”
Ben did not say anything.
“Alright, why don’t we start with the big one?” the lawyer said as he slid the first document in front of Ben to sign.
“What’s this?” Ben asked.
“This is the title transfer document for Mr. Gringer’s house. I just need you to read it over and sign at the bottom
.”
Ben did as he was instructed. As a first timer in this kind of situation, he relished the opportunity to ask a lot of questions and learn as much as possible. With each answer from the lawyer, Ben did his best to comprehend, but was not educated enough to grasp everything. In those instances, he just nodded and then signed the rest of the documents that were slid in front of him.
At the end of the process, the lawyer asked Ben if he had any final questions. Ben had none. They both stood up and the lawyer walked Ben back to the main entrance of the firm.
“Take care of yourself, Mr. Owen,” the lawyer said as he shook Ben’s hand. “My card is in the folder; don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks.”
The Secret Manuscript Page 11