To hide his affair, Herman inflicts emotional distress upon his stepson. When his jilted wife, the boy’s mother, learns the truth, she calmly delivers justice.
The soft melodies of Billie Holiday filled the room, the sultry voice surrounding the entangled figures on the white sofa. Herman, in his thirties, and Jezebel, his mistress, shared stolen moments in the dimly lit living room.
“This is so naughty of us!” Jezebel whispered. “What if your wife comes home early?”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Faceboo
“My wife hasn’t come home early in at least a year! We have the whole morning,” Herman insisted.
“The whole morning!” Jezebel echoed. “Well, in that case, best we make the most of it, Mr. Loverman. Kiss me like you mean it.”
“That’s not all I’m going to do; just wait,” Herman replied, tossing his sweater aside.
They lost themselves in the moment, but a creaking door interrupted them. Panic gripped the pair; Herman’s wife wasn’t supposed to be back for hours.
“Who is it?” Jezebel whispered.
“It can’t be my wife,” Herman pleaded. “She told me she was working late. Quick, get—”
The front door slammed shut, and Herman faced the music.
A young voice broke the tension. “Herman? Are you here?” Herman’s son, Jake, entered, backpack slung over his shoulders.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“What are you doing home, Jake?” Herman asked angrily.
“They made us go home early because of a scare,” Jake explained. “They thought there was someone with a gun in the school. Herman, who is this lady?” Jake asked, looking at Jezebel.
Herman denied Jezebel’s presence. “Jake, you must be seeing things.”
“But I see a lady right there,” Jake insisted.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Herman concocted a lie about Jake’s shock from the school scare.
“Close your eyes and count to ten. If you can’t see the ghost, it can’t see you. And you see, it’ll disappear if you do that.”
Jezebel disappeared into the bedroom as Jake obediently counted. When he opened his eyes, the woman was gone.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“I made her disappear?” Jake exclaimed.
“You got rid of the ghost. You’re a brave young man,” Herman assured.
After coaxing Jake to keep the encounter a secret, Herman allowed him unlimited screen time.
After Jake left, Jezebel re-entered the room, disapproving of Herman’s actions. “What was that? You lied to your son?”
“Stepson,” Herman corrected. “What did you expect? Tell him about us? Admit to our affair? I’ll do whatever it takes to keep us together.”
Jezebel sighed. “Okay, cool,” she said.
“That was close, though,” Herman said. “We’ll get back to what we were doing another time!”
“Yeah,” she agreed, kissing him goodbye. “See you later, Loverman,” she added seductively.
***
Herman’s wife, Grace, returned home after sunset. Tension enveloped the dinner table as they sat down to eat. Jake seized the opportunity to share his peculiar day.
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“Mom,” he began, “we left school early today because they thought there was someone with a g un inside.”
“What…what happened?” Grace gasped.
“It was a false alarm. Everything’s fine, right, Jake?” Herman interjected.
“I’m fine,” Jake said. “But when I came home, I saw a ghost.”
“A ghost?” Grace asked, concerned.
“It’s just his imagination,” Herman intervened, concealing his panic. “Post-traumatic stress from the school scare.”
Ignoring Herman, Grace focused on Jake. “What did the ghost look like?”
“She was a lady with big, frizzy hair,” Jake explained.
“She?” Grace repeated, looking at Herman.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Herman laughed nervously. “He must be in shock. Go watch cartoons,” he told Jake.
After Jake left, Herman leaned in, trying to placate Grace. The tension lingered.
“I’ll call the school and get Jake an appointment with the psychologist,” Grace said. “Now that you’re not working, you can take him to the appointment.”
Herman almost yelled, “I’m trying to find a job!”
“I know. But..Maybe spend less time at that Moe’s Diner you visit often and help more with Jake,” Grace suggested stiffly.
Herman didn’t say much, promising to help her with her son.
After dinner, Grace decided to talk to Jake. “Talk to the counselor at school. It might help you understand what’s going on, honey, alright?”
“Okay, Mom,” Jake said sweetly and wished Herman and Grace good night.
Herman’s heart sank in regret, realizing his secret tryst with Jezebel was unraveling. He had hoped to manage the affair, but it was proving more complicated than expected.
As they sat in the living room, Grace’s eyes locked with Herman’s. “It’s for the best that we’re taking him to a doctor. My boy’s well-being is at stake.”
They argued, and Herman again said it wasn’t needed, but Grace’s determination prevailed. “I’ll make an appointment with the psychologist for Jake! And I’m taking him there myself!”
***
In Dr. Warren’s child-friendly office, Jake’s anxiety was palpable. His tiny hands gripped the chair he sat in.
Dr. Warren greeted him warmly. “Let’s talk about what happened, Jake.”
Jake hesitated, recalling the frightening incident that brought him here and Herman’s trick with ghosts. “Herman said if I close my eyes, the ghost would disappear.”
Dr. Warren turned to Grace. “What trick did Herman show you? What ghosts?”
Grace explained Herman’s role in their lives — that he was her second husband — and Jake continued, “Herman said when I close my eyes, the ghost can’t see me, so it goes away.”
Dr. Warren addressed Jake gently. “Closing your eyes won’t make dangerous things go away. It’s important to talk to someone you trust.”
Jake nodded, sharing his fear of the ghost breaking up his family. “I saw a Iady. I am scared that lady will make Herman leave Mom.”
Dr. Warren looked at Grace. “I’m going to recommend regular visits to help Jake understand these feelings better. Jake,” he added, turning to the boy, “can you please excuse us? Your mom will be out in just a minute. I want to make an appointment for your next visit with her.”
Jake nodded and left the room.
“I divorced Jake’s father because he was unfaithful. He had an affair,” Grace told Dr. Warren.
The man nodded. “I think what’s happening with Jake is a classic case of Kleinian Projective Identification,” he said.
“Is it serious? What…what can we do?” Grace asked, concerned for her little boy.
“Don’t worry,” Dr. Warren reassured her. “It’s just a theory in child psychology based on Melanie Klein’s work. Projective identification involves a child projecting feelings onto another or the world outside, often with the intent of making the other person experience what the projector is feeling, causing delusional behavior, like Jake’s. We can deal with this.”
“I just want what’s best for Jake,” Grace said worriedly. “If you think you can help him, then we’ll do whatever it takes.”
“I’d like to work with Jake,” Dr. Warren continued. “He might need counseIing and medication. I’m here to support both of you.”
***
Grace briefed Herman on Dr. Warren’s diagnosis over dinner. “What did he call it?” Herman asked.
“Something about projecting fears onto the externaI world,” Grace said.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
“Is it a real issue?” Herman inquired.
“Yes, according to Dr. Warren. Jake might need medication,” Grace replied.
Herman Iowered his head and concentrated on eating his food. “Is something wrong?” Grace asked him.
“Uh, no, no, nothing wrong,” Herman said unconvincingly. “Just thinking.”
“I’m taking the afternoon off tomorrow and taking Jake out for lunch. I think it will be good if he and I spend some time together. Maybe he will open up about what’s troubling him.”
“Okay,” Herman agreed nervously.
At Moe’s Diner, Grace and Jake discussed the menu. Suddenly, Jake closed his eyes, claiming to see the ghost from their living room.
“The ghost? Are you sure, honey?” Grace asked, worried and concerned.
Jake pointed to the frizzy-haired waitress, Jezebel. Grace approached her, inquiring about any unusual experiences at the restaurant. But Jezebel denied any ghostly occurrences.
Grace, suspicious, pressed on, “It’s just that sometimes kids pick up on things, you know? Strange vibes or unusual occurrences. It would put my mind at ease to know if there’s anything unusual about this place. For my son’s sake.”
Jezebel dismissed Grace’s doubts, claiming that Jake had an overactive imagination. Grace thanked her and returned to the table.
But the woman sensed something off about Jezebel. Pieces of the puzzle were falling into place, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that the truth was within reach.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
When Jezebel dropped the food, Grace said nothing. Jake closed his eyes and began counting again.
“It’s okay now, Jake, she’s gone,” Grace assured. Jake opened his eyes, focusing on his ice cream.
Grace had an idea. “Jake, should we call Herman and ask him to join us for lunch?”
Jake nodded unenthusiastically.
Grace smiled, pleased. “But my phone’s dead. I’ll ask the waitress if I can use hers.”
Approaching Jezebel, Grace said, “My phone’s almost flat. Can I use yours to make a quick call to my office?”
Jezebel handed her phone reluctantly. “No problem. Go right ahead,” she said.
Grace dialed Herman’s number and got the shock of her life when the caller ID on Jezebel’s phone revealed “Loverman.” Shocked, Grace hung up quickly and returned to the table. But now the truth was out.
With a weak smile, she encouraged Jake to finish his food soon.
After arranging a playdate for Jake, Grace returned home. Settling on the sofa, she reached for her phone, dialing Dr. Warren.
“It’s Grace. I need your guidance and support.”
Grace recounted the events, revealing her plan to remove Herman’s belongings. Dr. Warren supported her decision.
Soon, the removal men arrived, packing up Herman’s things.
When Herman arrived, he was shocked. “Grace, what’s going on? What are these men doing with our things?” he asked, baffled.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace imitated the charade Herman had once played with their son, a mocking smile on her lips.
“Herman, what men? I don’t see any men. You must be seeing ghosts. Oh, and to be clear, those are not our things; they are your things.”
Herman’s face paled. The tables had turned.
His voice quivered, “Grace, you must believe me. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. I—”
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace cut him off, her voice firm and unwavering. “Herman, there is no room for excuses. The time for lies and infidelity is over. You know what you are to me now? A ghost!”
Herman’s eyes twisted up with regret, but Grace’s resolve held. She explained that all of his personal items were being moved to a storage facility, signaling the end of their shared life together.
“I’ve also been in consultation with Dr. Warren, and we’ve initiated criminal charges for emotional abuse. The police will be here shortly.”
Soon, two officers arrived, their badges glinting. They informed Herman of his rights and took him away; justice was served.
For illustration purposes only | Source: Facebook
Grace, feeling vindicated, turned to the door, closed her eyes, and counted to ten – her way of making Herman’s ghost disappear.
Opening her eyes, she saw Jake, who ran to her and embraced her.
Grace held him close. The road ahead was uncertain, but they were united, and they would face whatever challenges that lay ahead with courage and love.
Old Man Sells Shabby Suitcase, Everyone Ignores Him except Lame Boy Who Agrees to Buy It — Story of the Day
A boy goes to the flea market to buy old music tapes, but he takes pity on an elderly man selling an old suitcase, and that act of kindness changes his life.
Martin Farmer’s life wasn’t easy and it contained few pleasures. He was seventeen years old, but he was already carrying a heavy load of responsibility. His mother was ill, and his father had passed away two years before, leaving him as the man of the house.
Shortly after that, a motorbike accident had left Martin with severe injuries to his left leg, which ended his brilliant football career, and he had been counting on football to pay his way through college…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Money was short so Martin worked after school every day and all day Saturdays to make ends meet and help pay for his mom’s medication. Once in a while he took $5 out of his savings and went to the local flea market to look for old music tapes from the 80s and the 90s.
Those monthly trips to the flea market were his only pleasure — his only hobby. That Sunday, Martin was recovering from a particularly hard week. He had worked hard, but his mother’s medical bills had come in the mail.
His week’s paycheck wasn’t enough to keep the wolves at bay forever, Martin knew that. He and his mother had a heated argument on Saturday night. He wanted to quit school and work full time, but his mother disagreed.
This morning he got up early, made her breakfast, and then headed out for the flea market. At least for a couple of hours, he’d stop thinking about his problems.
It was a beautiful morning so the fair was full of people browsing through the trash and treasures of other people’s lives, and Martin headed for one particular vendor he knew well.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
He was standing by the man’s table, going through a treasure trove of old tapes when an old man arrived and set up a pile of old bags and suitcases next door. The man immediately started advertising his wares:
“Suitcases, bags, and briefcases!” he cried in his old cracked voice, “Five dollars apiece, best bargain of your life!”
A woman passing by stopped, looked, and sniffed. “Old junk is what you’ve got! There’s so much mildew on that suitcase it will probably fall apart!”
“Go on, lady!” the old man wheeled. “Help an old man out! I’m clearing out my old treasures and I can sure use the money! Things are tight…”
Another man walked past and nudged a briefcase with his foot. “Old man, I wouldn’t even give a dollar for this piece of trash! You’re not going to sell anything!”
Miracles are found where and when we least expect them.
The old man shook his head. “You’re wrong. The right person will come along because this here is a suitcase full of hope,” he said. “Cause it looks like a suitcase to you, but I promise you, it’s a dream come true!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
Martin smiled. He turned to the man and said, “I could use a lot of hope right about now! How much for the dream come true?”
“Young man,” the old man said smiling happily. “This here marvel is 100% genuine leather, made in the 1930s, and it can be yours for only $5!”
Smiling, Martin fished in his pocket for his single $5 note and handed it to the man. “Here you go,” he said.
The man was smiling hugely, and he grabbed Martin’s hand. “You’re a kind boy,” he said. “And you deserve what you’re getting!”
Martin laughed, picked up the old suitcase which was a lot heavier than he’d imagined, and waved a regretful goodbye to the music man. “Next time!” he promised and headed home for lunch.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
When he arrived home, his mother complained about the suitcase right away. “Martin! Did you have to buy junk? We have enough of that! Put it in the garage or it will fill the house with dust!”
Martin obediently carried the suitcase into the garage. He was about to place it on top of an old table when he once again noticed how heavy it was. He opened the suitcase and was surprised to see that it was filled with packages wrapped in newspaper.
Curious, he ripped the newspaper and found a wad of $20 bills! Quickly Martin unwrapped the other packages. It was all money! Thousands of dollars, hundreds of thousands of dollars!
Martin screamed for his mother and she came running. She was speechless at the sight of the piles of money. She didn’t complain about the dust…
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
That night, Martin and his mom counted and recounted the money. There was $300,000! “There’s enough for the medical bills, and the medication…” said Martin.
“Oh, and for college,” said Martin’s mom. “And maybe then we pay off the mortgage…”
“But mom,” Martin said softly. “It’s not our money. The man sold me this suitcase for five dollars and he looked very poor. I’m sure he didn’t know about the money.”
Mrs. Farmer carefully put all the money back in the old suitcase. “In that case, you have to find him, Martin,” she said. “And give it all back to him.
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Unsplash
Over the next three weeks, Martin haunted the street markets and flea markets looking for the old man, but he was nowhere to be found. Then one day he saw him at a bus stop, carrying another old suitcase.
“Wait!” Martin cried. “Listen, do you remember me? You sold me an old suitcase? I have to give it back to you!”
“Give it back?” asked the old man. “I don’t want it back!”
“Please, you don’t understand,” Martin said. “The suitcase was full of money, your money!”
For illustration purposes only. | Source: Pexels
The old man started laughing. “I know THAT!” he said. “Do you remember what I told you? The suitcase was full of hope and dreams come true. That’s what it’s for. Use it well.”
The old man turned and started to walk away, but Martin ran after him. “But I thought you were poor!”
The man smiled. “No, son. I’m a man who spent his entire life making money and now I find I have more than anyone should have. So I give it to those who are kind enough to help those in need. And that’s you!”
Martin went home and told his mother the old man’s story. They decided to use the money to help her get well and to pay for his college, and from that day on, they included the Suitcase Man in their prayers.
What can we learn from this story?
- Miracles are found where and when we least expect them. Martin and his mother were at the end of their rope when they found the money in the suitcase.
- Acts of kindness are always rewarded. Martin spent his precious $5 to help a man he thought was poorer than he was and received a gift that made his dreams come true.
Share this story with your friends. It might brighten their day and inspire them.
If you enjoyed this story, you might like this one about a young waitress who gave an old homeless man free meals after she recognizes his old broken-down western boots.
This account is inspired by our reader’s story and written by a professional writer. Any resemblance to actual names or locations is purely coincidental. All images are for illustration purposes only. Share your story with us; maybe it will change someone’s life.
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