{"id":24428,"date":"2026-06-07T14:41:55","date_gmt":"2026-06-07T18:41:55","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/?p=24428"},"modified":"2026-06-07T14:41:55","modified_gmt":"2026-06-07T18:41:55","slug":"a-dollar-bill","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/fiction\/a-dollar-bill\/","title":{"rendered":"A Dollar Bill"},"content":{"rendered":"
Twenty-six years ago<\/em><\/h5>\n

\u201cMommy said to wait here.\u201d<\/p>\n

That was Petey talking, or as Alex liked to call him, \u201cLittle Pee.\u201d<\/p>\n

When their mother wasn\u2019t drunk or high she would poke Alex in his chest. \u201cDon\u2019t call him that! Be nice to your brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s not my brother; he\u2019s my half<\/em>-brother. And that\u2019s what he is: a little pee! A little puddle of pee!\u201d\u00a0Alex would laugh at his own good joke.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t be mean. Be sweet, Alex. Be sweet like Petey.\u201d Then, as an afterthought,\u00a0\u201cAnyway, he\u2019s pissing the bed less these days.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHe\u2019s STILL a Little Pee.\u201d<\/p>\n

At that current moment, Jeannie was neither drunk nor stoned.<\/p>\n

She was just plain gone. Nowhere to be seen. The last sunlight descended into the sky. No one remained in the playground but Alex and Petey. There they were, sitting on a bench. The park at dusk is a desolate place. Silent, devoid of children\u2019s laughter and squeals of play. The swings were empty, swaying slightly in the wind.<\/p>\n

The boys continued to wait. They didn\u2019t know what else to do. Though it was early October, they wore only windbreaker jackets over short-sleeved t-shirts. The chill of the autumn twilight went right through their thin clothing, and into their flesh. Petey was shivering. He rubbed his four-year-old hands together in an exaggerated gesture, just like he saw in cartoons.<\/p>\n

Alex wrapped his arm around Petey\u2019s shoulder, rubbing it to help keep him warm. Petey, in turn, leaned into Alex. Alex tilted his head down toward him and took a deep sniff. Yup. Still smells like pee.<\/em><\/p>\n

The wind picked up, making dead brown leaves rustle and skip across the rubber-padded floor of the slide and monkey bars area. Alex watched their motion and wondered.<\/p>\n

Where was their mother?<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

She had been jonesing so bad. She just wanted a bump.<\/p>\n

One little bump. To take the edge off.<\/p>\n

Jeannie figured she had been good for a while. Days now, right?\u00a0One little bump couldn\u2019t do any harm. She had looked over at Petey on the swing, learning to pump himself.<\/p>\n

\u201cYou\u2019re doing so good, Baby,\u201d she called out. \u201cSee, you don\u2019t need Mommy to push you!\u201d\u00a0Then she looked around for Alex. He and that kid who always had a runny nose were on the monkey bars hanging upside down. She went over to him. \u201cWatch your brother. I\u2019ll be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

As she was leaving, she waved at Petey. \u201cYou stay here, Baby. Mommy will be right back.\u201d<\/p>\n

Vinnie T\u2019s was only 2 blocks away, and he was always home. Plus, Vinnie had a thing for Jeannie. He would always give her a bump and not ask her to pay up front. She would give him the money on payday.<\/p>\n

Vinnie and Jeannie did a tiny bit of heroin together. Jeannie stretched out on his couch and let the waves of well-being flow through her. She felt so chill!\u00a0Damn, that was exactly what she needed. And then she got a crazy strong craving for a red Slurpee. Vinnie said he could go for one, too. And maybe he\u2019d put some vodka in it. They headed over to the 7-11 on 123rd and 3rd.<\/p>\n

When they got there, Jeannie made a beeline for the self-service machine and made herself a large cherry Slurpee. Ah, that first sip of the cold, grainy sweetness! Motherfuck, that was good!<\/p>\n

She wanted to get something for her boys, too. Alex liked those little packages of crackers with the spreadable cheese, and Petey liked Twizzlers. He could nibble on one of those things for hours. The next part was just a misunderstanding that just got way louder than it ever should have. Jeannie thought Vinnie paid for her stuff, and Vinnie T. thought she paid for his stuff.<\/p>\n

The guy at the counter didn\u2019t have to be such a dick<\/em> about it.<\/p>\n

Then Vinnie T got so mad he knocked over the Energy Drink display, and accidentally knocked into Jeannie, sloshing her Splurpee all over the front of her jacket. It all turned into a thing<\/em>, and before she knew it, the cops were there, and she was being handcuffed and escorted into the police car by some burly cop who placed his hand on the top of Jeannie\u2019s head with a surprising gentleness as slid into the back seat, making sure she didn\u2019t hit her head. Despite everything, Jeannie was still a looker, you see. Doe eyes, large and soft, and long wavy hair that went down to her waist.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

It was Alex\u2019s decision to try to walk home. He was older, after all, so he got to make the decision. Alex was only 6 1\/2 years old but he was smart! He knew that they lived on 127th street, and that the park was on 130th Street. He knew that they had to walk three blocks up, and one block over. There it was!\u00a0There was their building!<\/p>\n

See, Petey!\u00a0I told you I could get us home!\u00a0Then Alex realized that he couldn\u2019t open the front door of the building. It needed a key. Alex didn\u2019t have any keys. So, he and Petey sat on the front step and waited.<\/p>\n

They waited and waited. They waited for a long time. People went out, people came in, all passing by the two little boys sitting on the step. Some ignore them, some give them a passing look of curiosity. By the time Mrs. Walker from Apt 58 came home from babysitting her grandchildren, Alex and Petey were crying. She brought Alex and Petey up to her apartment, made them bologna and cheese sandwiches and called the police.<\/p>\n

The officer had a name tag that read \u201cO\u2019Brien.\u201d \u00a0He put Alex and Peter in the back seat of the police car and drove them to Precinct 87.<\/p>\n

O\u2019Brien entered the information into the system as Alex provided it. He got a hit on their mother\u2019s name. The system showed that the little boys\u2019 mother was at that very moment in a holding cell one flight up. He looked at the little boys sitting on the hard wooden chairs that were alongside his desk, their little legs swinging above the ground. The littler one was still sniffling.<\/p>\n

Officer O\u2019Brien picked up the phone and called Child Protective Services.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Today<\/em><\/h5>\n

In the kitchen of his delightful new apartment, Alex was in his boxer briefs and nothing else. He glanced at the wall clock as he pulled his clothes out of the dryer, piling them on top of the washing machine. Even with the idlest of glances, pleasure washed through him. He loved seeing the expanse of exposed brick that extended from the living room to the kitchen.<\/p>\n

Exposed brick. It warmed a place up, gave it personality. It was one of the details that sold him on the condo. That, along with the restored original light fixtures, the bay windows, and the restored wood flooring. And the great laundry alcove that just off the kitchen.<\/p>\n

He gave the dryer drum one final spin to make sure a stray sock wasn\u2019t lurking behind one of the drum fins. A soft rustling sound, and then a single dollar bill fell to the bottom of the barrel. Alex fished the bill out of the dryer. Instinctively brought it up to his face and inhaled. The scent of dryer heat and Tide detergent made him smile. Incidental aromatherapy<\/em>, he thought to himself. He pulled a pair of freshly washed jeans from the pile of clean clothes and put them on. And then he shoved the clean, dry dollar bill into his back pocket.<\/p>\n

His cell phone started ringing. It\u2019s probably the social worker guy, he thought to himself, surveying the kitchen for his phone. It was actually on his coffee table, still ringing, and the caller ID proved his guess incorrect.<\/p>\n

He picked up the phone and hit the green \u201cAccept Call.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cHi, Mom.\u201d As his foster mother for three years, then his adoptive mother for all the years after that, calling Laura di Carlo \u201cMom\u201d was as real and natural<\/em> and right\u2014as breathing oxygen.<\/p>\n

\u201cHi, Sweetheart. Just checking in. Wanted to wish you luck. Are you nervous?\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex walked over to the window and looked down at West End Avenue. The wide expanse of street and line of gracious pre-war buildings reminded him of Europe.<\/p>\n

\u201cNo, not nervous. Maybe a little apprehensive. I\u2019m okay.\u201d In truth, he had gotten roped into this. When he had gotten that call last week from a woman who said she was Petey\u2019s social worker, and said Petey wanted to see him after all these years, Alex wanted to decline, but he couldn\u2019t figure out how to do it without seeming like a colossal asshole.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhere are you meeting him?\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cJust at French Roast. Nothing too fancy. I don\u2019t want to overwhelm him. Make it casual.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThat sounds good. Well, let me know how it goes.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cI will, Ma. I\u2019ll call you later.\u201d<\/p>\n

Laura sighed. \u201cIt\u2019s so sad. If only\u2014\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex nodded even though Laura couldn\u2019t see him. \u201cI know, Ma. I know.\u201d Silence fell between them. A simpatico silence: of understanding, as they both considered the potential sorrows and joys of luck of the draw, and how Alex had happened to luck out in the biggest lottery of them all.<\/p>\n

\u201cI better go. I have some things to do before I meet him.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201c\u2018Kay, Sweetie. Love you.\u201d<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

The cappuccino at French Roast was liquid joy. Alex, always a prompt person, had expressly arrived early, so he could drink his coffee alone and get centered before the appointed time.<\/p>\n

But two sips in, a figure appeared alongside his table.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlex?\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex looked up.<\/p>\n

The figure took a step back as Alex stood up.<\/p>\n

The two men looked at each other. Though only half-brothers, they resembled one another strongly. Both tall and lanky, with light brown hair and brown eyes. Peter was an inch or so taller, and so skinny as to be gangly. His cheeks were hollow, and his complexion had a greyish cast. And his eyes\u2014so many things in there. Bewilderment. Fear, and sadness. A little bit of crazy.<\/p>\n

He looks exactly like what he is<\/em>, Alex thought.<\/p>\n

A recovering drug addict.<\/p>\n

Alex hesitated, then wrapped his arms around him. \u201cPetey,\u201d he affirmed, his voice soft.<\/p>\n

At first, stiff with surprise, Peter relaxed into the hug. \u201cLittle Pee,\u201d he mumbled.<\/p>\n

An embarrassed chuckle from Alex. \u201cShit, you remember that.\u201d<\/p>\n

Peter nodded but said nothing. Just silent in his brother\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n

Alex could feel Peter\u2019s chest shaking against his. He realized Peter was crying.<\/p>\n

Twenty-six years melted away. In an instant, they were once again those little boys abandoned in a darkened playground. Alex tightened his arms around him.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s going to be okay, little brother.\u201d And then they sat down, and for the first time in just over two decades, Alex and Petey talked. There was a shakiness to Petey, and his speech was halting. And he kept pulling at the sleeves of his sweatshirt, trying to cover the scars on his wrists, faded but still visible. They looked like cigarette burns.<\/p>\n

Petey told him about rehab, and the next steps of looking for a job, and he listened intently as Alex told him about his job at the law firm. It was a life completely alien to Petey, and he had no idea how prestigious Blake & Showalter was.<\/p>\n

A couple of times during the conversation, Petey said, \u201cSorry, could you say that again?\u201d<\/p>\n

The first time he said it, he pointed to his right ear. \u201cBad ear.\u201d<\/p>\n

And Alex remembered that way back, when he was still just being fostered by Laura and Dan, he overheard them whispering, saying that Peter was being re-situated, because his last foster father had hit him on the side of the head and burst his ear drum.<\/p>\n

Alex felt embarrassed and guilty talking about his life.<\/p>\n

\u201cEnough about me. We\u2019re here to celebrate your finishing rehab. It\u2019s a great new start for you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey shrugged. \u201cI have a lot of catching up to do. I\u2019m pretty far behind in life.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s not your fault, Pete. You got dealt a really bad hand.\u201d Alex hesitated. \u201cHow many foster homes were you in?\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey flinched… \u201cI never counted.\u201d Then,\u00a0\u201c14.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cGeez.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd two group homes.\u201d Peter squinted, thinking back. \u201cWell, first my dad\u2019s sister took me, but her husband didn\u2019t want me there. And then the foster homes started, and each one was worse than the last.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex wondered if Petey had been sexually abused but didn\u2019t ask.<\/p>\n

\u201cI\u2019m so sorry for everything that\u2019s happened to you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey nodded. \u201cIt happened. It all really happened, and there\u2019s nothing I can do about that.\u201d He exhaled. \u201cPam said\u2014Pam, you know. My social worker. She also counsels our group. She told us the story of the hundred-dollar bill. She said you could take a hundred-dollar bill, and step on it, and get it all dirty. You could drop it on the ground, and a dog could take a dump on it. But you still wouldn\u2019t throw that Benjamin away. You\u2019d keep it and wash it off. Because it was still worth a hundred dollars.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt still has its value, you know?\u00a0That never changes. She told us in group that that\u2019s all of us<\/em>, that\u2019s each one of us. All of the shitty things that have happened, it doesn\u2019t change our value. I just have to keep reminding myself of that, you know?\u00a0I just have to take it one day at a time.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cAnd Mom loved us,\u201d Alex reminded him. \u201cAs fucked up as she was\u2014\u201d and then he stopped, embarrassed. Petey was an addict, like Mom.<\/p>\n

Petey nodded, letting him know it was okay. \u201cMom loved us. I remember that.\u201d And the boys-now-men both fell silent, each lost in their personal memory of where they were when they learned that their mother died of an accidental overdose.<\/p>\n

The waitress came over and asked if they needed anything else.<\/p>\n

\u201cJust the check,\u201d Alex said, accompanied with a hand motion.<\/p>\n

As he reached in his back pocket for his credit card, he remembered the dollar bill in his pocket, freshly washed and dried.<\/p>\n

\u201cHey. This seems all too apropos.\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey squinted, not understanding.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s fortui\u2014\u201d\u00a0Alex stopped again, searching for another word. \u201cHere is something fitting. I was doing the laundry this morning, and this must\u2019ve been in a jeans pocket that went into the wash.\u201d<\/p>\n

He handed Petey the dollar bill.<\/p>\n

\u201cIt\u2019s freshly washed and dried. Brand spanking clean. Like the hundred-dollar bill in your story.<\/p>\n

\u201cKeep it for luck.\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey took the bill and smiled. \u201cThanks, big brother.\u201d<\/p>\n

They walked out of French Roast and ended their reunion with a hug, and a promise to keep in touch.<\/p>\n

\u201cIf you need anything. I swear\u2014anything. Please call me. Don\u2019t hesitate.\u201d<\/p>\n

Petey nodded. \u201cI will, Alex. Thank you.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex watched Petey head down the street, down toward the 79th and Broadway train station. He didn\u2019t leave until Petey disappeared down the stairs. Then he turned and commenced his walk home.<\/p>\n

As he walked, a memory nagged at the back of his mind, trying to push its way forward.<\/p>\n

It was when he was 9 and a half. Just after Laura and David diCarlo had officially adopted him.<\/p>\n

They had sat him down in the living room.<\/p>\n

\u201cAlex, we have something to ask you. It\u2019s something important.\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex was scared. They looked so serious. Did they change their mind about adopting him?<\/p>\n

\u201cYour half-brother\u2019s case worker contacted us. She said that Peter is in a very bad position. He\u2019s in his fifth foster home and he\u2019s being treated badly. Very badly.<\/p>\n

\u201cThey need to re-situate him, and the social worker was asking us if we would like to foster him. And if things worked out, we would adopt him, too.<\/p>\n

\u201cWould you like that, Alex? To be with your brother again?\u201d<\/p>\n

Something white and hot inside of Alex grabbed his stomach and squeezed. And that white hot thing had a voice. It screamed \u201cNO!\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex burst into tears. \u201cI don\u2019t want him here! Don\u2019t bring him here!\u201d<\/p>\n

And his new mom and dad swooped in, covering him with hugs and kisses, and words of comfort.<\/p>\n

\u201cDon\u2019t you want to be with your brother again?\u201d<\/p>\n

Alex was silent.<\/p>\n

\u201cWhat\u2019s wrong, Sweetie?<\/p>\n

Alex took a deep breath and said, \u201cPetey is scary. He hurts little animals. People don\u2019t know about it.\u201d<\/p>\n

Total lie. It was just something Alex saw on a tv show about a crazy murderer.<\/p>\n

Later that night, Alex overheard his parents talking about it.<\/p>\n

\u201cShould we tell the social worker?\u00a0That must be why Peter is so difficult to place.\u201d<\/p>\n

\u201cThey probably already know. Maybe we should just leave it alone, Laura.\u201d<\/p>\n

Each time that his lie pushed its way up to the surface, Alex pushed it back down. He didn\u2019t want to think about it. It was a long time ago, and he had just been a kid.<\/p>\n

Alex arrived at the front entrance of his brownstone.<\/p>\n

He reached into his front pocket for his keys and let himself in.<\/p>\n

He was home.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

She said you could take a hundred-dollar bill, and step on it, and get it all dirty. You could drop it on the ground, and a dog could take a dump on it. But you still wouldn\u2019t throw that Benjamin away. Because it was still worth a hundred dollars.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":182,"featured_media":25395,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[6],"tags":[4725],"class_list":["post-24428","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-fiction","tag-https-www-facebook-com-jacqueline-chou-56","writer-jacqueline-chou"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24428","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/182"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=24428"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24428\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":25396,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/24428\/revisions\/25396"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/25395"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=24428"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=24428"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mrbullbull.com\/newbull\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=24428"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}