IOU Childhood: The Day I Cash Out

I sat on the edge of the bed and pulled every IOU out of the drawer.

Five dollars for a workbook, 20 dollars for study guides, 500 dollars for tuition…

I stacked them neatly one by one, then added everything up on my calculator. The total came to 25,500 dollars.

My phone buzzed with a new notification. My older brother, Sam Martinez, had just posted something on social media. The photo in the center of the nine-picture grid immediately caught my eye.

A Rolex was casually laid out on a white couch, with a cup of coffee and an open book beside it.

The caption read, "Got this in exchange for a goodbye kiss! Thank you, Mommy dearest!"

My heart gave a little jolt as I tapped to open the comment section.

Someone had asked, "Isn't this model going for over 15,000 dollars right now?"

Sam replied with a giggling emoji. "It's a little over 18,000 dollars. Mom said I should wear it to school to flex."

I looked down at the stack of IOUs and suddenly found myself completely ridiculous. Clutching my phone, I gave the post a like.

A few seconds later, Mom called. A tiny, well-buried flicker of hope rose in my chest. Did she notice that I was upset and decide to call to comfort me?

The moment I answered, her voice came through the line.

"Did you get the keys?" she asked.

I hummed in response.

"The postage fee was ten dollars and thirty cents," she said flatly. "I'll knock off the thirty cents, so just transfer me ten dollars."

In that instant, my heart sank.

I stood by the window clutching my phone, fighting to keep my voice from shaking. Sam's post felt like a dull knife being driven straight into my chest, twisting back and forth. The pain was almost suffocating.

Swallowing back my tears, I made one last attempt.

"Mom, I already put all my money on my meal card, so I don't have any spare cash left. Could you just cover the postage charge for me this time?"

There was a pause on the other end. I could hear the sound of a spatula clinking against the rim of a pan.

There were a few seconds of silence before she finally spoke. "Is that so…"

Warmth flickered in my chest. I thought she was going to say, "Okay."

But when she continued, her voice was just as detached as before. "Then I'll deduct ten dollars from your allowance this month. Our family has always believed in keeping accounts straight, even amongst ourselves. You can't be the one to break the rules."

With that, she hung up.

I stood there in a daze, the only sound in my ear being the dead dial tone.

The next second, a notification appeared on my screen. I'd received 290 dollars from a Vanessa Leech.

Mom had really done it. She'd actually deducted the ten dollars.

I stared at the number on the screen. My mouth had turned so dry I couldn't manage to utter a single word.

Divided over 30 days, that was less than ten dollars a day. That'd give me five dollars for three meals, and two for water, which left me with about three. Even if I needed a pack of tissues, I'd have to pick the cheapest one.

It wasn't like I had never tried to hint that my allowance wasn't enough. But every time I brought it up, Mom would just pat me on the shoulder and say, "Don't you have a summer job? Your brother and sister are already putting so much financial strain on us.

"But you're the most responsible one in the family, Miles, so I'm sure you wouldn't want to make things harder for Mom and Dad, right? If you still think it's not enough, we can do what we always do and write an IOU."

Over time, I eventually accepted that my allowance would never be more than a third of what my siblings got.

I wiped away my tears of frustration.

Just then, my phone vibrated again. It was a text from Professor Lindell.

"Miles, your scholarship application has been approved. The fund will be deposited within three days. Please send me your study abroad documents as soon as you have them ready."

I stared at the message for a moment, then turned off my screen.

Mom was right. Even family should keep their accounts straight.

Three days from now, once I'd paid off this debt, I'd leave this city for good.