"Why would he do this? He had his whole life in front of him," said the distraught mother. She seemed as though she had more to say, but she broke into a session of weeping. Several other people in the room joined in. All that anybody could say was how young he was and that he had his whole life in front of him.
"Maybe if I wasn't so strict on him, he wouldn't have . . ."
"It wasn't you fault, there's nothing that you could have done," interrupted the usually stolid father, with the beginnings of a tear developing in the corner if his large, blue, left eye. He wiped it away before anybody saw. "I have to be strong. I can't let them see me crying. I am a man, and men don't cry." He then excused himself from the room. In his departure he passed the room of his departed son. Without realization, he entered the room. He navigated his way around the room, the room that just two days ago the young man's mother was urging him to clean. He could see his son's collection of good luck charms, his rabbit's feet, four leaf clovers, etc.. He went over to the shelf containing these items and picked up a white rabbit's foot, slightly yellowed by time. "I gave this to him for his eighth birthday. He was so happy. He took it everywhere with him." He continued down the shelf, recalling memories about each item. When he reached the end of the shelf he saw a sealed envelope. "What's this? I've never seen this before." He opened the envelope, giving himself a paper cut in the process. There was a letter inside:
To whom it may concern,
I know that my suicide has come as a shock to all of you. Don't blame yourselves, or each other. Don't be so coneited as to think that you are the reason for my death. In this envelope is a penny, this penny is the cause of my death. You will learn the rest as it is deemed necessary.
James Babcock
He looked into the envelope, and sure enough there was a penny. There was nothing unusual about the penny. It looked like any other penny in his son's collection. Yet, somehow this penny is the cause of his son's death. It was at this time that the full effect of his son's death hit him. The once stolid and in-control man was now reduced to a weeping boy.
He decided to keep this information from the rest of his family. He didn't know how they would handle it. He put the letter and the penny back in the envelope, and placed the envelope under his son's mattress.
He composed himself and returned to his family. All that he could think of was the letter. By the time that he returned to the room, the people in the room had broken into several different conversations; however, the topic of most of the conversations was the same, the untimely suicide of their beloved Jimmy. The somber tone of these conversations angered the father.
"What's wrong with all of you people! Jimmy wouldn't want this. He wouldn't want us to mourn his death. He'd want us to celebrate his life. I don't want to hear anything negative from this point on. I only want to hear positive and reinforcing stuff about Jimmy."
The conversations temporarily shifted to a positive; however, everybody soon forgot themselves and reverted to their origional conversations. The father became frustrated with this; however, he figured that it would be no use to say anything and get himself more frustrated. His thoughts again returned to the letter. How would this information be divulged to him?
He was getting tiered and he figured that he'd be able to think more clearly in the morning, so he excused himself and went to bed. His wife came into the bedroom a few minutes after him.
"Is everything all right?"
"Yeah, I'm just tired." Should i tell here. I have to tell someone. I can't just keep this information to myself.
"I can see that something is wrong, what is it? You can tell me. I'm your wife."
"Okay, but you can't tell anybody else."
"Who am I going to tell?"
"I guess you're right. Well . . ."
"Spit it out already."
"If you'd let me speak, I'll tell you. I guess the only way to explain it to you is to show you the letter."
He led her to their son's room. "What a mess, I thought i told him to clean his room."
"What are you going to do, ground him? No pun intended."
"What do you mean 'no pun intended'?"
"Nevermind."
"No, what do you mean by 'no pun intended'?"
"Forget about it," he reached under the mattress and pulled out the letter, "here, read this."
She got a confused look on her face as she read the letter. "What's this?"
"I found it nect to his good luck charms."
"How could this penny cause his death?"
"I couldn't figure that out either. Are there any superstitions with a penny, because Jimmy, as you know, was extremely superstitious."
"I can't think of any."
"You'd better get back before you're missed, and don't forget, you can't tell anybody."
"All right, see you in the morning."
Morning came, but the topic of the father's thoughts remained the same, the letter. His wife wasn't awake yet, so he'd have to make his own breakfast this morning. Since he didn't know how to cook his choice was limited to either cereal or PopTarts. He decided to go with the PopTarts. He put them into the toaster and pushed the lever that lowered them into the toaster, however when he did this sparks began to fly from the toaster. Some of the sparks hit him causing him slight pain. He unplugged the toaster and resolved to having cereal. His choice was limited. All that there was was an almost empty box of Lucky Charms, Jimmy's favorite, and Fruity Loops. Maybe he would skip breakfast today, he wasn't really hungry anyway. He hadn't had much of an appetite since the incident.
He went into the living room. Uncle Bob was laying in his chair where he passed out the night before. A drop of drool began to form in the corner of Bob's mouth. It dropped and made a splash when it hit an existing pool of drool that had formed over the last night.
He felt the urge to give Bob a hearty smack, but he didn't have the energy so he let it go.
He sat down on the couch. He could feel something poking him in the left buttock. He stood up and saw the remote control. He picked it up and sat back down. He turned on the TV. There was some fishing show on. He changed the channel. The image of his son appeared, but it disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
"What was that? I could've sworn that was Jimmy, but it couldn't be." The image appeared again. His lips moved ,but nothing said by the image could be heard by the father. "What? I can't hear you." The father became extremely perturbed and began to beat the TV. Sparks from the TV began to fly in every direction. Another drop of drool fell from Bob's mouth. "What have I done? I broke my TV. Is this what it's coming to, I'm seeing things and then blaming my TV for it."
"You weren't seeing things," said the ominous voice of his departed son.
"Great, now I'm hearing things too."
"Listen to me, you aren't imagining anything. I am real, whether or not you want to accept it or not."
"Jimmy? Is that you?"
"Yes."
"Why did you . . ."
"I can't tell you that, it's against the rules."
"What's with the note?"
"What about it?"
"Well, in the note you said that the way that the penny caused your suicide would be disclosed, but how?"
"I can't tell you that either."
"More rules?"
"Yes."
"Can't you break the rules?"
"This isn't like when I was little and you told me that I couldn't throw balls in the house. The repercussions are a lot more severe here than in your world."
"How far can you bend the rules?"
"I don't even know why we're even having this conversation. Everything that you need to know is in the letter."
"But I've read the letter about twenty times and it still confuses me. At least tell me about the penny."
"After living with me for as long as you did you should know the answer," the look on the father's face was the face of understanding, but then returned to a face filled with confusion. "As for understanding the letter, maybe you weren't reading it in the right light."
"I don't understand."
There was no answer. "Jimmy, Jimmy, answer me," he dropped to his knees in tears. He knew that his son's suicide had to have had something to do with luck, and that the penny had something to do with the luck. The letter, what did he mean by "maybe you weren't reading it in the right light." He went into Jimmy's room. He reached under the mattress and pulled out the envelope. He read the letter again, he still didn't understand. The right light. He got an idea. He took the letter over by the lamp. As he tilted the letter it was revealed to him. Between the lines written in ink, the events were unfolded to him, in lemon juice. Written there was a description of the event that started a landslide of bad luck, which led to the untimely suicide of the unfortunate teen, he picked up a penny that was tails up. It also described the events that left Jimmy, in his mind, no option but to take his own life.