What Dreams Are Made Of

     He walked down the street a bit sullenly kicking a pebble along as he went. It was in that weird transition period of weather between Spring and Winter where it wasn't quite cold, but it wasn't warm enough for people enjoy making Cody and his pebble the only ones on the street. Cody was a bland 20-something that blended in with the background pretty well and in a description given about him from a former friend 'Cody is a manilla envelope tacked onto a beige wall'. With such glowing reviews as this, it makes sense that Cody preferred to keep to himself which made this time of year especially nice for him. He could peruse the park freely with out having to bother with the niceties. The only downside to all of this is that Cody hit a bit of a rough patch the past few months and was living in and out of different places be it, cars, hotels, or streets, as he struggled to find a job and some stability. Cody was too stubborn to willingly accept help which made things harder and his only break from it all were these walks.
     Today Cody wandered into the park and unwittingly into the solution for his problems. He sat down on one of the benches by the river and idly watched the water. Cody had a million thoughts racing through his head: where was he going to sleep next, could he actually find a job, etcetera. That is until an unassuming old man came in an interrupted came in and broke the silence. Now this old man was a simple guy, a fashionable oak cane, argyle sweater vest, and simple brown shoes. What was peculiar about the man wasn't anything physical, it was the offer that he had for Cody. Mr. Cooper, as he identified himself, apparently had the solution to all of Cody's problems; house, money, and job. He was handing the keys to his lonely estate to Cody as he had no successors of his own and didn't want his house to end up sad and dilapidated like most homes do. When asked why he didn't just sell it Mr. Cooper explained that it can't just be handed to anyone, there were secrets inside that not just anyone could find even if they tried. Reluctantly Cody took the keys and bid farewell to the man.
     Cody had no intentions of running to this house though, as the whole thing just seemed to strange and surreal to be an actual option. After a few days though, curiosity got the best of him and he traveled to the country where this house was. It was an old log cabin style home, but already looked like it had been abandoned for years. He sighed brokenheartedly and meandered over to the house. Was the man even real he thought, was it just a delusion? It couldn't be, how could he get a specific address to a place he's never seen from his own head? In any case it provided a home, shambles or otherwise, it was better than nothing. Cody exited his vehicle and walked up to the house awaiting a Scooby-Doo villain to pop out of the door at any moment. However, that never happened and the walk up to the sickly peeled doors was boring and quite but when he entered he did get to see the movie cliche of old houses. It had that pale green dusty atmosphere that made the place seem out of time. Cody glanced around as  he wandered the foyer, idly picking up musty pictures and old relics. The home held a lot of the same furniture and architecture of older pioneer homes and seemed to be untouched since Lincoln's era. The only oddity of the house was when Cody entered the master bedroom and found a large, tattered parachute amongst the refuse. They obviously didn't have airmail when this was built. so maybe it was just an antique that old man left behind. The more Cody dug though, the more nothing turned up and he eventually let out a sigh and dusted off one of the chairs sitting down. Why did he ever listen to this old man and go on this goose chase? He shifted uncomfortably in the chair whilst thinking and getting fed up quickly he stood and removed the cushion to check for loose springs.
     There were no springs to be found underneath just a wad of old cash. Was this the big secret the man was giving to him? A few hundred dollars while helpful seemed a bit of a waste of time, Mr. Cooper could have just given this to him. He tossed it back on the chair and walked into the kitchen hopelessly looking for food, but was again surprised to find more literally cold, hard cash inside. Now it began to click in Cody's head. He had his suspicions confirmed when stumbling upon a drawer full of news clippings when looking for a bag to store the cash. Each and every clipping was about the infamous D.B. Cooper. Now the parachute and hidden cash made sense, but as to the why it was all given to him still eluded Cody. It was through more rummaging that Cody found his answers. There was a small hand-written note  under the parachute and Cody had sat down to read it.
     "Dear son,
              I don't know your name for sure, but I think it's Cody. I'm sorry to unload all of this on you at once but I am your father, sorry for never being there kid. But now that you know who I am you can guess why. I know this is pretty awful of me, I just couldn't risk being caught in public meeting you and have your small fortune taken away. I know it's not much by today's standards, but it should be more than enough to get you back on your feet. And I know it's not the cleanest of money, but I figure you will put it to an honest effort. Anyways, by the time you read this I will have disappeared again I have no choice son I really am sorry, but it was good to finally see you.
                                                                                                                      Love,
                                                                                                                               Dad"
     Cody sat there stoically for a moment before silently folding up the note and tucking it in his back pocket. As much as he wanted to believe it. he simply assumed the old man made a mistake and left it at that. Out of all the people his dad could have been he wasn't D.B. Cooper, or so Cody thought. He did take the money however out of necessity, it sure is a shame to waste money like that. So ends a bittersweet tale, a boys dreams of finally righting the wrongs in his life is no more than a bittersweet afternoon.