He sat on a park bench, counting his money. Nine hundred and ninety-four dollars. No loose change. Just bills. He did not look at the sky. He did not whisper a prayer of silence. The old man just sat there, counting twenties and fifties over and over again, placing each bill in his pocket next to his watch. The other pocket was empty.

The two brothers sat in the diner across from each other. Frank looked at the plastic menu while Fast Eddie watched the waitress walk by.

That coffee smells good, said Frank. I always liked the smell of coffee. Smells like you’re starting something new. Waking up. A new day.

Yeah, Fast Eddie responded. He continued looking at the blonde server.

You said you had something to give me, Frank said. Fast Eddie nodded. What is it?

Out of his pocket, he handed Frank his ATM card and a piece of paper with the code on it for withdrawals. Take this, he told him.

Eddie. What are you doing? Frank asked. What is this?

The eagle flies tomorrow.

Right. First of the month, Frank said as he tried to flag the waitress down.

Look at me, Fast Eddie told him. I’m serious.

I know you are.

I’m not going to come out of this surgery tomorrow. Too many cards stacked against me, Eddie said.

Come on now, Eddie. You’ll be fine.

I don’t think so. Not so easy. The ticker is always tricky.

It’s done every day, Frank laughed. You’ll come out of it brand new.

Just take it. In case I don’t, take all my money out and walk down to the park.

Where the fountain is?

Right. Take that cash and give it to the first homeless person you see. Just say it’s a gift from Fast Eddie. Actually,  better yet. Don’t say nothing. Just give it away to someone who needs it.

Some bum?

Hey. I was a bum once. I was on the streets till I got SSI. Just another crazy person. Remember?

Yes. Yes, I do.

So do this for me. Will you?

I will.

He saw him. Walked right by the man in the park. Talking to himself. Talking about myths and legends. Frank didn’t know what to make of the man. He didn’t even say hello.

Here, Frank said to the older gentleman with the torn Cubs hat on. Take this. He took out the wad of dough and handed it to him. That’s a gift from God, Frank said. A gift from God. And he walked away.

The bum laughed with joy as Frank walked on. Thank you, sir. He said. Thank you.

Frank held his hand up and waved. His way of saying, you’re welcome.

I’ll drink to that, the old man said. I’ll drink to that.