Missing ID!

Her name is Pamela Williams.

Her story begins on a cold winter day in the beginning of January – the kind of day you wish you could stay at home, sipping cups of hot chocolate and just lounging around. That cold January day it was certainly not to be, though. It was the day of Pamela and Jason’s five-year old son’s doctor’s appointment.

The pediatric allergy specialist the Williams family had been instructed to see was located close to Manhattan. The consultation went well. They left the office, satisfied, but with certain reservations about whether or not to go fully along with the regiment of medicines prescribed for Johnny’s skin rashes.

Being so close to Jason’s business associates gave them good reason to further their adventure into Manhattan’s commercial district. They parked in a city lot, and took the long, cold trek to the man’s office. Pamela and Johnny marveled at the diversified characters making up the hordes of crowds on the walkways. As thrilling as it was, it left them with an unusual sense of chaos and disorder.

Jason, acting as the guide seemed in control. He steered Pamela and Johnny through the maze of humanity skillfully. Finally they reached the building of their destination. Up the elevator, down the corridor, through the security doors. They had finally made it.

While Jason conferred with the gentleman of the office, Pamela busied herself in the anteroom conversing with Johnny. All seemed to go pleasant enough.

The hour turned late as the threesome left the grey office building. As impossible as it seemed, the stark reality was that the throngs on Manhattan’s streets and sidewalks had increased at least double- fold. Stay together, stay together, Pamela thought as the panic started to rise.

Pamela and Johnny half-ran, half-walked to keep up with Jason’s quick pace. Pamela held onto Johnny’s hand tightly. The crowds made it impossible to walk in one row all the time, but they vigilantly kept sight of each other. At last, they reached the busy post office. Together they entered. Together they went down the steps towards the post boxes. Jason took his key, opened the box and retrieved the mail. They braced themselves for another encounter with the mad rush of human mass.

As they exited the building, Pamela recognized a certain uncomfortable lightness. Something was not right. Pamela instinctively reached for her pocketbook. It wasn’t there!

“Where’s my pocketbook?” Pamela’s voice took on an artificial high tone. Quickly she rummaged through the bag of miscellaneous that she had brought lunch in. No pocketbook!

As the masses swarmed by, Pamela felt the sweat pour and the panic escalate. Jason’s face mirrored the emotions.

They retraced their steps. No, the post office security had no idea of a missing pocketbook. No sign of it on the floor, or on the ledge. No pocketbook anywhere. The crowds surged by in an unending torrent.

Suddenly, it registered in Pamela’s mind! She had left the pocketbook – IN HER HUSBAND’S ASSOCIATE’S OFFICE! Pamela’s body heat turned a degree lower. Yes, she was almost sure of it… She had placed the pocketbook on the floor next to her chair while doling out lunch to Johnny… UNLESS… Pamela knew she had escorted Johnny a few times to… THE BATHROOM!

Hurriedly, they made their way back to the office building. The entrance was locked. No sign of any security guard. Pamela was certain, though. Her pocketbook was in there, hopefully, innocently positioned on the floor in the anteroom of the office on the 5th floor. The one thing gnawing at her brain was the thought that maybe – just maybe – she had left it in the ladies’ rest room, accessible to anyone…

Pamela pushed the unpleasant thought aside. They surged on through the crowds, stopping for a few moments to put one particular credit card on hold. The rest would have to wait. Pamela wasn’t sure of which credit cards she had in her wallet and – besides – she had a feeling, albeit a slightly quivering one, that all would prove well in the morning.

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