Writings -- Blue Trenchcoat & Black Button Part One

Once upon a time there was this blue trenchcoat I owned.  Nothing fancy.  It was some sort of military fashion...wool, French and blue (although not French blue).  It was Navy blue. I bought it when I lived for a brief time in Minneapolis.  Ask Michaela about it, she'll remember it.  I have photos of it somewhere, although it'll require some digging to find.  Well, I re-discovered this coat some years later in LA...just before I returned to Fargo to take up some new schooling.  What are the chances that is was the same one?  Well, strangely enough, there was a small button which I left in the inside breast pocket.  I always wondered what had become of this lucky button.  It was indeed lucky...something my grandmother had given to me when she was still alive.  I never knew the significance of the button...black and pretty plain, but for a small mark, as if it has been bitten down on by a tooth--testing for its gold standard.  Other than that; it was a button.  But anywhere the button went, the luck was sure to go.  I had it with me on numerous casino expeditions, for job interviews and the like.  Things always turned out for the best.  I was a blessed man.

The coat was in a Goodwill Store just off of Hollywood and Vermont.  I frequented the place for "another man's treasure" every weekend.  It was a calming tradition for me.  In the past few years, I had chosen to NOT pick up any brick-a-brack, as my shelves has become overwhelmed by various unneeded (but adored) collectibles.  So, my trip to the good folks of the Goodwill was purely to window shop.  And as a rule, I don't buy used clothes...what with my germ phobia.  Sure, I know they're cleaned (or are they?)  Well, something that day told me to check out the outerwear section.  After making it around the rack once, nothing stood out.  As I was about to head to housewares, one of the employees brought out a new transportable rack of clothing and began to unload the new goodies.  So I waited patiently.  I grabbed a book from the nearby shelf and yes, I waited patiently.  At that moment, I didn't know what glued me there.  The book wasn't anything of note.  And then, there it was.

I had grown belly fat over the years, and that was the reason the coat left my closet.  It just no longer fit me.  I was sad to let it go, but age was bringing with it the extra pounds.  It looked ridiculous on me, and it was right around the time of the, what was it?...the "trenchcoat brigade" of the Columbine kids?  Although my coat was a stunning blue (not black), the image stuck with me of their hatred and sickness.  These things made it clear that the coat had to go.

And then, there it was.  It couldn't be the same one, right?  What are the odds?

And yet...THERE IT WAS.

I hurried past a couple of other "waiters" as they too went in for the fresh kill...all of us looking like some Dave Salmoni / lion pride buffet style meal situation on Animal Planet.  I had seen these other people eyeing what items were making their debut.  Sadly (but also happily), the other folks had no interest in my precious blue trenchcoat.  (but was it mine?)

THERE IT WAS.

I removed the hanger from the rack and immediately felt the warmth and some strange familiarity on the wool.

This was my coat.  It had to be.  What odds?

I turned the coat inside out...and I could see a tiny nub behind the fabric of that breast pocket.  A little bubble of luck...if indeed this was mine.

Right where it should be.

I had a the cotton-y sensation of dry-mouth, some sort of anticipation as I slid my hand into the pocket.  It was just a coat.  Just a button.

More than that.  It meant something.

There.  My finger touched something.  I always kept it deep, deep within the pocket, so that it would never fall out.

There was something there.

I stopped for a moment, almost wanting to make this feeling last longer.  The other customers seemed oblivious to what was going on here.  No matter.  This reunion was important.

Why?

And then, THERE IT WAS.

It was indeed the button my grandmother had given me.  There was the tiny "tooth gouge".  There was the name imprinted on the inner circle.  There was that same (I guess it was fresh) clump of blue and white lint which accompanied the button, every time I took it out.  You made it back to me.

This was my coat.  This was my button.

$12.50 and life had come around.

To be continued...