Heads Up!

An elderly gentleman has taken it upon himself to watch over me at the local library.

It's funny how some people catch your attention, maybe because they remind you of somebody you once knew, maybe somebody important. I admit that when he first approached me, I was neither surprised nor offended. I had noticed him, sitting at the table across from mine, to my left. There were plenty of other regulars, I think, but none of the others had made an impression.

Only his question startled me, that first time. "For profit or not for profit?" My defenses immediately went on high alert. Another person wondering what the heck I was doing, and if it was worth it for someone to pay me. The things I wonder about on a daily basis.

"For profit," I answered. "Theoretically," I added. I wear my confusion on my sleeve.

He bent down and picked up a penny from the floor near my chair. He offered it to me. I flinched. I could see it was tails up. I only pick up pennies if they are heads up, and then I make a note to myself to hold onto it for good luck, although I generally forget about it entirely pretty quickly. Truth be told, I've never really paid attention to whether my luck changes, even for a moment. I explained my policy to the gentleman. He seemed a bit surprised, but he put the penny in his pocket and wished me luck. I worried about him, with a tails up penny in his pocket.

I didn't see him again for a week. This time he startled me when he suddenly spoke in my ear. "I've been waiting for you," he said. Not in a menacing way, just very matter of fact. I recognized the voice. "I was at McDonald's the other day, getting a coffee," he continued. Had he said he was getting a Big Mac, I might have been concerned, but he was getting a coffee. Not so creepy.

He opened up his hand to show me what looked to be a penny, although it was so dark and weathered I could not really tell. "And I saw this filthy old penny on the floor, and I remembered what you said, and I bent down and saw it was heads up, so I took it for you."

I didn't know what to say. He apologized for its condition. I told him it was probably an antique, and I thanked him for it.

When I left a short while later to run a quick errand, I placed the old penny in my jacket pocket, and kept checking for it. Rain was coming down in sheets, and I was hoping my penny would help me find another sheltered parking space when I returned to the library. After a third spin through, it worked. Well, I found a sheltered parking space, and I like to think the penny had something to do with it.

The elderly gentleman and I have chatted again since then. Not just about pennies, but about what we do and where we have been and what we would like to do and where we would like to go. He mentioned he had found another penny the other day -- tails up -- and had kept it for himself. He admitted business was not going well for him at the moment. I gave him a knowing look.

The filthy dark penny sits on my dresser now. I knocked it to the floor once, and it landed tails up, but I flipped it over and put it back. Once heads up, always heads up. My luck, I decided, had been grandfathered in.

The penny is more than an ordinary penny. And the elderly gentleman, well, I like to think he is more than an ordinary elderly gentleman. His face does not really remind me of anyone in particular, but his kindness is vaguely familiar.