The Magic Debit Card

By John Walters

An elderly homeless man suddenly discovers that his debit card, which is usually almost empty, has been filled with thousands of dollars, and whenever he spends money, by the next morning it has somehow reappeared. He uses this inexplicable bounty to get off the streets, clean himself up, and attain a measure of personal security. The source of the magical largesse is something he never would have imagined.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Astaria Books
• Release date: Apr 27, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393327196

John Walters

John Walters recently returned to the United States after thirty-five years abroad. He lives in Seattle, Washington. He attended the 1973 Clarion West science fiction writing workshop and is a member of Science Fiction Writers of America. He writes mainstream fiction, science fiction and fantasy, and memoirs of his wanderings around the world.

Book preview

The Magic Debit Card

Shortly after dawn, a shopkeeper shoos Nathan Foster out of the entryway where he has been sleeping. Come on; get the hell out of there, man, before I call the cops.

He had been dreaming about an imaginary family. His young daughter jumped onto the bed and woke him up even though it was a Saturday.

Nathan groans and spits up a wad of phlegm mixed with blood.

Not the type to put up a fuss, he rolls up his sleeping bag, straps it to his backpack, and hits the street. Some of his acquaintances have shopping carts or wheelchairs piled with plastic bags full of belongings. Nathan, however, prefers to keep it light: just the backpack, nothing more. When he wants to be less conspicuous, he hoists the pack onto his back; when he's too tired to carry it, as now, he extends the handle and pulls it along the sidewalk on its rollers amidst irritating squeaks and rattles.

At least he's made it through another night in one piece. Several murders of homeless people have occurred lately, and the entire community - if you can call it that - of derelicts is on edge.

He heads down the avenue towards the waterfront.

Around him, the city awakens. Stores, cafes, and restaurants open. People scurry to wherever they need to be.

Nathan sees the neighborhood on two levels. On the surface are the so-called productive members of society: working people, students, tourists, and retirees. These have niches they fit in, places to go, and money to spend. Beneath the surface is the world of the vagrants, the panhandlers, the druggies, the alcoholics, the derelict, the filthy, the near-dead, the forgotten.

Well, not completely forgotten. You think of them when they annoy you by hitting you up for spare change or disconcert you by talking to themselves while sipping whiskey on a bench or frighten you by appearing out of the shadows at dusk.

You would think there would be some sort of solidarity between them but there really isn't. There's too much mistrust, too much privation, too much need. They might occasionally group together for casual conversation from time to time, but when it comes down to it, the homeless fend for themselves and no one else.

Nathan spots a bulky man in a filthy jacket and jeans shuffling along a side road in his direction. His name is Alan, and he's a nasty one; they've had altercations before.

Best to avoid him. Nathan quickens his pace.

Along the way, he stops in at a supermarket and buys a bakery donut and a small carton of milk.

He uses his debit card to pay.

The debit card is his most valuable possession. Somehow, despite his misfortune, he's managed to keep it active all this time by feeding his infinitesimal income into it and using it for the prescribed amount of monthly purchases.

It would be disastrous if he spent too much and lost it. To check the balance, he needs to access his account through a computer at the public library. He does this every