Bad luck comes in three.
He called from the emergency room last weekend. He had caught his hand on a nail and needed a tetanus shot and stitches. He also told me he got a ticket for a turn signal that didn't work. He called again, this morning, to tell me he was twirling his keys, they flew from his hand, and they landed in the sewer outside his apartment building. The housing authority, the police, the firemen wouldn't help.
When I arrived, I was wearing a Hawaii 5-0 meets Magum P.I. button down shirt and the crowd was curious by my attire and what I was there to do. He knew the keys were deep in the sewer, but he didn't know where. Just down.
I suggested we go to a store and find a magnet. Auto Zone helped and I purchased a magnet on a stick that was capable of picking up 20 pounds. I worried we'd pull out condoms, hypodermic needles, and a few bras (the kids were watching). We needed string because the magnet wasn't long enough and we needed a plan so we could rope the magnet down. We crossed the street where a woman with colored hair like a My Little Pony tail wore golden Daisy Dukes and was buying menthol cigarettes. The Rite Aid only had shoelaces, so that's what I purchased to use.
We jimmied the string and magnet and went fishing with the crowd of children growing and the onlookers coming out of their apartments more curious than before. We didn't catch a thing (not even a penny). We grew more frustrated.
I saw a woman's mop and I wondered if we could use it. She undid the handle and gave it to us and we used the shoelaces to tie the magnet to the wooden pole. We poked in the water, but couldn't see because it was getting dark. I was nervous the string would get loose and we'd lose the magnet to the pipes below that travel underneath the earth to destinations unknown. We pulled it out and the two of us tightened the string on the mop pole that held the magnet.
I had to go, though. I announced I needed to leave and as I did, Abdi pulled the keys from the sewer waters below. It was like he was playing the game Operation; he was meticulous to not set off the patient's red nose. The keys came straight out.
On the ring was his house key and the only key his family had to their car. Abdi is the man of the house and he drives everyone to destinations that support their American survival. He has his license and drives his mom to work, to get groceries, and to wash their clothes. He drives to Utica to purchase and bring home goat meat so his family has food. He drives kids to their doctor's appointments and cousins to their schools. He brings them all to Maine and Boston to visit their relatives. The wheels that he uses are central to their existence and the keys to that car are what ignite everything to happen in America.
The shoelaces cost $3 and the magnet cost $6. For under $10, I witnessed a rare magic that my cynical brain didn't believe was possible. The keys came out with ease, although it took quite a while to get them magnetized because we were searching for a black cat in a dark basement when we both doubted the cat was even there. When I saw the keys, I looked to the sky in awe. Abdi did the same. He knows the world of prayers better than me, but together we shook hands in bewilderment and felt blessed. He had spent all day worrying about those keys and I felt horrible that he was in this situation.
On my way home, I heard a phone ringing underneath the passenger seat and I knew it wasn't my phone. Abdi had left his in my truck. The dark cloud came in four for him, and I knew I'd have to drive back to return it to him. He couldn't go a day without it because, like the keys, his phone is central to the family's survival.
Karma needs to be with Abdi in the near future. He deserves a break from the bad stuff for a little while because he simply is an awesome kid.
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