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moment
please.”
    Ben waited on
hold for more than five minutes. He grew restless, but since he had
nowhere to go he continued to wait. At the ten minute mark, he was
about to hang up. Just as he was about to do so, he heard a voice
come on the other line.
    “Barry Windsor
here.”
    “Uh… hi, Mr.
Windsor, my name is Ben Owen. I was instructed to contact you.”
    “Yes, Mr.
Owen, thanks for getting back to me.”
    “Please, call
me Ben.”
    “Alright, Ben,
the reason I wanted to contact you is that I’m the attorney for
Charles Gringer’s estate. I’m sorry to inform you that Mr. Gringer
has passed away.”
    Ben cycled
through a lifetime of memories, searching for the relevant data. He
finally came up with one word — “Who?”
    “Charles
Gringer,” the lawyer repeated. Ben was still drawing a blank. “Mr.
Gringer left everything he owned in your name.”
    “Are you sure
you have the right Ben Owen?”
    The lawyer
confirmed some details with Ben, making it clear he was speaking
with the right person, then discussed what Ben needed to do
next.
    “The good news
for you, Ben, is that Mr. Gringer had no debt and there are no
liens on his property. So, if you can come to my office in Calgary,
we can take care of this for you. You just need to sign some
documents and the estate will be transferred in your name.”
    “Did you say
there was a house?”
    “Yes, and it’s
in a decent neighbourhood too.”
    “And it’s all
mine?” Ben asked sceptically.
    “It’s all
yours. You just have to maintain the property tax, otherwise you
could sell it. If you do not claim it within the next sixty days,
the house will be put up for auction.”
    Ben had heard
all he needed to hear. Finally, something was going right for him.
Receiving this news was a huge windfall, especially just days after
losing everything he owned.
    “Got it, I’ll
be there,” Ben said.
    Even if the
plan was short term, Ben now had a reason to leave Cold Lake and
would focus all his efforts on going to Calgary, Alberta. After
writing down the necessary details, Ben hung up the phone and left
the office. He practically ran down the hall in celebration and
pounded on the elevator button impatiently as if he had somewhere
important to go.
    When Ben
stepped outside, the wind was at his back and boundless
opportunities lay before him. He flipped up the hood on his
sweatshirt and kept moving. Although walking made him warmer, it
also consumed more calories, something he could not afford at the
moment. To appease his growling stomach, Ben reached into his
sweatshirt pocket and took out his last banana. It was not much,
like tossing a small log on a fire, but it would at least keep him
going for a bit longer.
     

Chapter Ten
    As Ben walked
to the bus depot, the same nagging voice from the other night
persisted in his head. This time it was telling him to return to
the apartment where he had stashed the goods and extract them. The
consequences of getting caught would be dire, but most of the hard
work had already been done. It would be a shame to just leave
all that stuff there , he thought. Ben weighed the pros and cons
in his head and eventually decided to make a play for the stolen
goods.
    He altered his
course and headed back to the apartment building. He had no idea
how he would manage to sneak in and out of the building in broad
daylight with a pile of stolen items while remaining undetected,
but he had a long walk ahead of him to figure it out.
    With his head
down, Ben kicked rocks the whole way as he mumbled to himself. He
was now about a block away from his building and had yet to devise
a plan. In the distance, he heard some chatter and looked up. In
front of his building was a small congregation of people just
outside the fence. As he approached the group, he recognized their
faces as fellow tenants. Ben saw Patrice standing with the others
so he walked up beside him.
    “Hey,
Patrice,” Ben said.
    “Hi, Ben. How
are you?”
    “I’m