It was one of those days, a beautiful day, the sun shining brightly, temperatures in the high fifties. A great day to ride a horse. This was my intention. I had a plan, a good one. I was going to make a few books to villages calls and then head to the Palmer Senior Center where I’d do art with my friend Cathy, the artist.

She noticed that I was a bit out of sorts. Confirmed when a friend of hers came up to me and proceeded to talk at me, telling me why we should not have a library in Palmer. Her reasoning was that the taxpayers would have to pay for this. I said there was grant funding available for this, to which she said that why didn’t they (whoever they are) go this route in the first place? Before I could answer, she said “and besides, everything these days is digitized.”

Then, when she left, Cathy told me that this friend of hers had strong opinions, the inference being that I ought not have argued with her. I normally would not have, it was just the mood I was in, perhaps tired of working so hard and having so much more to do.

I went back to the hotel, made sure that the developmentally disabled crew was taken care, and returned to the senior center. Cathy and I, after our art session, agreed to meet at the Bishop’s Attic Thrift Store, which is adjacent to the former banquet room of the historic Eagle Hotel.

I went back to the hotel, made two phone calls, one to an administrator at Idea Home School, and the other to a teacher in Savoonga, one who wants books.

Then I went to meet Cathy. Now I knew that I left my wallet sitting out on the sorting table. I presumed, because I was going to be back shortly, that it would be there when I returned. I presumed wrong. I began searching for it. I didn’t want to accuse someone of having taken it, but Robert and his developmentally disabled client had just assisted in moving some books onto the table where the wallet had been. Oh oh.

I call Robert Batman and his client The Boy Wonder.

Just in case I lost it, I began making plans to replace my driver’s license, my swimming pool pass, my Passport ID, and my credit card. I foresaw that replacing the driver’s license would be a real pain in the ass because I’d have to deal with the DMV. In some cases, America is fourth world, and no place more exemplifies this than the DMV. I’d have to jump through many hoops in order to get a new one.

Tonight, I got an email from one of the client’s caretakers saying that yes, the fellow I call the Boy Wonder had taken the wallet.

Okay. I learned my lesson. Be more mindful about my possessions in all instances, and in particular when in the Eagle Hotel. And I will tell others to do the same.

Next: 256. 9/20/24: One Day Follows Another