Thanx For Your Time

It had been some time
since Jack had seen the
old man. College, girls,
career, and life itself
got in the way. In fact,
Jack moved clear across
the country in pursuit of
his dreams. There, in
the rush of his busy life,
Jack had little time to
think about the past
and often no time to
spend with his wife and
son. He was working on
his future, and nothing
could stop him.
Over the phone, his
mother told him, "Mr.
Belser died last night.
The funeral is
Wednesday."
Memories flashed
through his mind like an
old newsreel as he sat
quietly remembering his
childhood days.
"Jack, did you hear me?"
"Oh sorry, Mom. Yes, I
heard you. It's been so
long since I thought of
him. I'm sorry, but I
honestly thought he
died years ago," Jack
said.
"Well, he didn't forget
you. Every time I saw
him he'd ask how you
were doing. He'd
reminisce about the
many days you spent
over 'his side of the
fence' as he put it,"
Mom told him.
"I loved that old house
he lived in," Jack said.
"You know, Jack, after
your father died, Mr.
Belser stepped in to
make sure you had a
man's influence in your
life," she said.
"He's the one who
taught me carpentry,"
he said. "I wouldn't be in
this business if it
weren't for him. He
spent a lot of time
teaching me things he
thought were
important... Mom, I'll be
there for the funeral,"
Jack said.
As busy as he was, he
kept his word. Jack
caught the next flight
to his hometown. Mr.
Belser's funeral was
small and uneventful.
He had no children of his
own, and most of his
relatives had passed
away.
The night before he had
to return home, Jack
and his Mom stopped by
to see the old house
next door one more
time.
Standing in the
doorway, Jack paused
for a moment. It was
like crossing over into
another dimension, a
leap through space and
time.
The house was exactly
as he remembered.
Every step held
memories. Every
picture, every piece of
furniture... Jack stopped
suddenly.
"What's wrong, Jack?"
his Mom asked.
"The box is gone," he
said.
"What box?" Mom
asked.
"There was a small gold
box that he kept locked
on top of his desk. I
must have asked him a
thousand times what
was inside. All he'd ever
tell me was 'the thing I
value most,'" Jack said.
It was gone. Everything
about the house was
exactly how Jack
remembered it, except
for the box. He figured
someone from the
Belser family had taken
it.
"Now I'll never know
what was so valuable
to him," Jack said. "I
better get some sleep. I
have an early flight
home, Mom."
It had been about two
weeks since Mr. Belser
died. Returning home
from work one day Jack
discovered a note in his
mailbox. "Signature
required on a package.
No one at home. Please
stop by the main post
office within the next
three days," the note
read.
Early the next day Jack
retrieved the package.
The small box was old
and looked like it had
been mailed a hundred
years ago. The
handwriting was
difficult to read, but the
return address caught
his attention.
"Mr. Harold Belser" it
read.
Jack took the box out
to his car and ripped
open the package.
There inside was the
gold box and an
envelope. Jack's hands
shook as he read the
note inside.
"Upon my death, please
forward this box and its
contents to Jack
Bennett. It's the thing I
valued most in my life."
A small key was taped
to the letter. His heart
racing, as tears filling
his eyes, Jack carefully
unlocked the box. There
inside he found a
beautiful gold pocket
watch.
Running his fingers
slowly over the finely
etched casing, he
unlatched the cover.
Inside he found these
words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your
time! -Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued
most...was...my time."
Jack held the watch for
a few minutes, then
called his office and
cleared his
appointments for the
next two days. "Why?"
Janet, his assistant
asked.
"I need some time to
spend with my son," he
said. "Oh, by the way,
Janet... thanks for your
time!"