Free Short Story

The Amazing Coffee Table

 

Michael anticipatively opened the door to Moore’s Wood Shop. A woman in her fifties greeted him with a smile, “Hello, how can I help you?”

 

“I’m here for the entrance table for Stevens’ Architect and Construction.”

 

She led him to the back room to a blanketed coffee table. As the cover gently slid off, he marveled at the dark ebony wood shining under the fluorescent light. Then the bright oak inlay, shining like gold, revealed the bald eagle holding a compass and a hammer. “It’s beautiful,” he murmured just over his breath.

 

He slowly paced around the decorative table, taking in all its glory. “This is the centerpiece of my showroom,” he nodded with approval. “I would like to meet the artist,” on his third trip around.

 

“He doesn’t usually meet clients. He is a bit of a recluse.”

 

“Doesn’t a $25,000 purchase get me some special access?” he questioned. “Perhaps, if I offer a $5,000 bonus to meet the man?

 

An office door opened, and a gray-breaded man, wiping rough hands on his red flannel shirt, exited a small office. He stopped and stared at his newest customer, offering a bonus to lure him in. Their eye met as old memories surfaced in both their minds.

 

Finally, the older man spoke with a certainty in his high tenor voice, “You took his name?”

 

Michael felt as if he were seeing a ghost when the high-pitched voice came from the solid frame. His eye twitched before answering, “It wasn’t my choice. Mom made me sign the adoption papers, or she would kick me out. She started using my middle name for all legal paperwork. She announced on my sixteenth birthday that John was never to be used in the house again. Even to this day, I go by J. Michael Stevens.”

 

“Where is your mother now?”

 

“She went to prison two years ago. She has ten more years before parole.”

 

“What happened?”

 

“It seems one of their shadier businesses crossed a line, and the state police investigated them. The FBI joined the investigation after discovering wire fraud and stock manipulation. Marvin Stevens turned up dead after the FBI brought him in for questioning. They leaned on her for his death, and she turned state's evidence for a lesser charge. His brother Calvin, the county attorney, and his cousin Clarence, the county judge, are both serving life sentences for murder and a host of other charges.”

 

“Why didn’t you change it back?” without revealing any emotion.

 

“Mom had you declared dead before I turned eighteen. She took control of the trust fund set up in my name. It came to light during her trial that she squandered a quarter of a million dollars. This was your life-saving, she justified. Marvin paid for my college, and I worked to buy books, food, and housing. I started working for a contractor in high school and stayed with him throughout university. After five years, I graduated with a degree in architecture. Marvin gave me fifty thousand to open my own company. We started small, but now it's worth twenty million,” as Michael let a little pride out.

 

“He tried to take control of my business, but I showed the seed money as a gift and not an investment. I even paid a gift tax to the state and federal governments. By the time they were arrested, I had established the name Michael Stevens, and there was no going back to John Irvin, Jr. It didn’t help that everyone thought you were dead. So, Dad, where have you been for the past twenty years?”

 

“I overheard something I couldn’t ignore,” John grimaced as he thought about the past for the first time in many years.

 

“What did you hear?” Michael asked with old pain rising in his chest.

 

“It was the morning of Friday, June 10. Your mother was speaking to Marvin on speakerphone. They talked about killing me the next day and making it look like a boating accident. My back shivered when your mother said she would paint my blood on the port side of the boat. I canceled my life insurance immediately after they hung up. A quick stop at the bank gained me ten thousand dollars in cash for the road. I drove to Kentucky and met a trucker going to Illinois. It turned out he liked picking up girls of the night and always parked outside any camera angle.”

 

“I remember them having you truck returned. Mom sold it for cash. She was furious when she found out you sold your half of the construction company for that truck, and after the court ruled you dead, there was no life insurance.”

 

John smirked at the notion and continued, “The trucker dropped me off at a diner before his stop. He said that was as far as I could go with him. We never exchanged names. I bought lunch at the diner, and Kathy, a thirty-five-year-old woman, ran ragged as she waited tables, cooked, and cleaned. She agreed to hire me under the table for a room and food. That was all she could afford.”

 

Michael looked at the lady who greeted him, and she nodded back.

 

“I discovered this wood shop in a barn behind the diner. There were some rustic chairs and a table for sale in the diner's dining area. Who built these I asked one day. Kathy told me about her grandfather, who passed away a few months back. He was a carpenter and helped in the restaurant. I used my master carpentry skills to start building furniture in the evenings and worked in the kitchen during the day. All revenue from the furniture and diner went through Kathy. I started getting special requests for my furniture, and we sold off the restaurant ten years ago. I now work exclusively on commission pieces. We make a good living without my name ever being mentioned.”

 

Michael shook his head in recognition and clarified, “Marvin hired private detectives and used every power of the Sheriff’s office to find you. I see why they never found you; you never existed on any papers after you left.” Michael looked confused for a second.

 

John nodded, “Marvin and your mother would have had trumped-up charges to bring me back home. I certainly would have ended up in jail or worse, dead, if they found me. I felt this to be true in my bones.”

 

Michael almost broke out in laughter, and smirked, “The FBI found emails where Marvin threatened your life. They charged him with your murder. He claimed you weren’t dead, and they provided an affidavit he signed to his cousin's court saying you were dead.” John smiled at this news.

 

Michael’s face drew concerned again, “Moore’s Custom Furniture is?”

 

Kathy piped up, “My grandfather was James Moore. I had five hundred thousand in revenue last year, with business costs of fifty percent. Your father was a magic elf making everything unseen.”

 

Then a clarity washed over Michael’s face, “If you are still alive, that means when Mom married Marvin, she was already married. This changes everything.” Michael stopped for a moment as more old memories came back to him. “I remember the FBI uncovered the false charges against you. They rescinded the warrant for your arrest. You are a free man.”

 

John shook his head, “I’ve been a free man for twenty years now. No man has been as free as I. There is a power in nonexistence.”

 

Michael let a little smile of understanding, “You have two grandchildren and another on the way. Mary surprised me this morning with the news of the third. We are hoping for a boy to offset the girls we already have. I would love to bring everyone by someday to meet the man who raised me to be a strong and loving man.”

 

“I liked that too,” John finally relaxed his demeanor.

 

John pointed to one edge of the coffee table, and the two men carried it out to the pickup truck in the parking lot. John covered it with a padded blanket, and Michael strapped it down for the five-hour trip back home.  There was an awkward hug before Michael left for home with his amazing coffee table and even more amazing story of his long-lost father.