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Fred was Jason’s roommate. Fred was okay, George figured, if you overlooked his vile taste in music. His father was a dentist who seemed more interested in Fred’s teeth than in his spending habits. A simple call home filled Fred’s bank account with no questions asked. Fred could afford pretty much anything. He just wrote a check and that was that. Fred didn’t even bother to balance his checkbook. And he was actually pretty generous. Loans to Jason and the other guys in the suite didn’t seem to bother him at all. And a pizza here and a movie there were his treat if somebody didn’t remember to bring along any money.
It wasn’t that he was trying to put other people in his debt. Fred wasn’t some nut case trying to “buy” other people’s love. He really just didn’t care. There was plenty of money, and it really wasn’t worth keeping track of it. “Spread the wealth,” he would say, and that would be the end of the discussion.
That sure wasn’t Jason’s condition. Jason’s mother had taken an extra job to help pay his expenses at college, and she never stopped reminding him of her sacrifice. Jason earned the rest of his college money himself working part time and summers, but somehow his mother never thought of that as a sacrifice. It was Jason’s education, after all.
Jason hated asking his mother for money; when he asked for money, it usually came, but it came with a sigh from his mother, and with a whole lot of guilt on Jason’s part.
Jason’s cell phone bill was almost $200 this time. His mother didn’t approve of cell phones, not since Jason’s sister had gone deep in debt because of one. But the cell phone Jason had quietly signed up for during Welcome Week was almost a necessity, given that everyone else had them. Suddenly the cell phone seemed like a real pain. Who could have foreseen that college would be so expensive?
Two hundred dollars. Jason stared at the bill. He thought about asking Fred for a loan. But he knew he wouldn’t be able to pay it back. Fred was generous, but it was humiliating always to be asking him for money. And Jason just couldn’t bring himself to ask for that much money anyway. An occasional slide of pizza was one thing. Two hundred dollars, well, that was something else entirely.
Just then Fred came in.
“Hi, Jason,” he said. “Janet and I are going to the mall to get a frame for that poster she bought. Want to come along?”
“No,” replied Jason. “I’ve got a lot of studying to do. Miller assigned a longer problem set than usual, and I think it’s going to take a long time.”
But Fred wasn’t really listening. He rummaged around in his desk drawer, found his car key, and headed out the door, leaving the drawer open.
On the top of the messy heap in the open drawer was Fred’s checkbook. Jason picked it up. He had no idea how much money was in the account. Neither did Fred, probably. But there would be plenty. There was always plenty.
Jason took a deep breath. He hated himself for what he was about to do, but somehow reason told him it was the best solution to his problem. He tore a check out of the checkbook and went back to his desk and made it payable to the cell phone company and carefully wrote his cell-phone number on it. A little more time spent in Fred’s drawer pulled up his zoo membership, with his sloppy signature scrawled across the line at the bottom. Carefully Fred copied the signature onto the check. He stamped the envelope, and put it into his backpack to mail. Then he carefully pulled three checks from different places in Fred’s checkbook, just in case he needed them some time in the future, and he set the checkbook back on top of the pile of stuff in the open drawer, and then turned to his books.
Fred and Janet came in about nine and showed Jason the picture frame. It was a huge metalwork thing, and it exactly fit the poster.
“It was more expensive than I expected,” said Janet. “But it sure was worth it. It’s beautiful.”
“Yeah,” said Jason. “It looks really great.”
Carl, who lived in the suite across the hall, was a victim of identity theft. Somebody in France had somehow used his credit card number to make a whole lot of purchases from an on-line electronics company, and Carl had suddenly become a missionary for fiscal responsibility, or anyway fiscal suspicion.
Fred didn’t imagine anything like that could ever happen to him. But when his next bank statement arrived, he looked it over. He couldn’t remember the $200 check in the list, so he called the bank. The bank produced a copy of the check, made out to Jason’s cell phone company, complete with Jason’s cell phone number written on it.
Fred was furious. Jason as a poor roommate who needed a little help now and then was one thing, but Jason as a thief was another. Fred went to the Res Dean and explained what had happened and asked how to file charges, and whether Jason could be made to move out.