The Five Dollar Betrayal

The apartment complex where I live has a high number of elderly residents, many of whom struggle just to care for themselves, let alone shop and cook a full meal.
Seeing their plight, I started something I called The Five-Dollar Supper Club.
For just five dollars, they got a hot meal with two protein dishes and a side of vegetables. For those with mobility issues, I even delivered it right to their door.
Id been running it for three months when suddenly, someone jumped out and accused me of using rotten ingredients, claiming my food had sent an old man to the hospital.
My father was fine this morning, but after eating your charity meal, he was violently illvomiting and everything. He almost died!
The very same grandmothers and grandfathers who had been thanking me just a day before now stood silent. Not a single person spoke up in my defense.
I thought about the hours I spent every day, starting before dawn, picking out the absolute freshest ingredients, and how I was losing money on every single plate I served. Suddenly, the entire endeavor felt utterly meaningless.
Very well, I said, my voice heavy. If that is the case, The Five-Dollar Supper Club is canceled. Im done.
1
Harper, make sure you save me a portion of the braised pork today. My old man loves the way you make it!
Harper, my mother cant manage the stairs. Please deliver at the usual time. Thank you!
My phone was buzzing constantly, a flurry of messages from the Supper Clubs group chat.
Then, Mrs. Rodriguez posted a voice note.
Oh, thank goodness Harper started this supper club!
We have so many seniors here whose kids aren't nearby. Cooking is a hassle. They used to just scrape by on instant ramen or cold bread. It broke my heart.
Now, Harper gives them two mains and a side for only five dollars, and he brings it right to their door. The vegetables are stewed nice and softperfect for our folks. It has solved a huge problem!
As soon as her message ended, a wave of agreement flooded the chat.
Yes, yes! Mrs. Rodriguez is spot on! My dad used to live on leftovers, but now he eats a hot meal every day. Hes in much better spirits!
Harper is truly a good soul. I did the mathfive dollars doesnt even cover the cost of the ingredients. Hes definitely subsidizing this himself!
Watching the messages scroll across the screen, I felt the strength return to my arms as I stirred the pot.
For the past three months, Id been up at five every morning to drive to the wholesale market for ingredients. Then it was back to washing, chopping, and cooking until the lunch rush at eleven. I often didnt finish the deliveries and get a chance to eat my own lunch until two or three in the afternoon.
Five dollars a meal barely covered the ingredients; utilities and gas all came out of my pocket. Sometimes, when a senior forgot their wallet, Id just wave them off.
I knew the tastes and dietary needs of everyone in that group chat. Occasionally, a neighbor, feeling guilty, would overpay by ten or twenty dollars, and Id save that money to buy things like disposable containers or sanitizing wipes for the kitchen.
The gratitude and reliance of my neighbors were the only fuel I needed.
I was just about to type a reply to the group when a rough voice boomed from the doorway.
Harper! Get out here! Dont you dare try to run!
My heart sank. I put down my stirring spoon and hurried over.
Standing in the doorway was a man in his mid-thirties, face flushed red, eyes full of aggression. Several neighbors had already gathered nearby, watching the spectacle.
Can I help you, sir? I asked, confused.
Help me?
The mans voice was enormous, making my ears ring.
My father ate your supper club meal, and now hes violently ill. Hes on an IV drip in the hospital right now, nearly dead!
Does that sound like something you can help me with?
I froze for a second, then quickly pressed for details.
Who is your father? What exactly did he eat today? Did he eat anything else with it?
My father is Mr. Davies from Building Three, Unit Two!
The man pointed a finger at my face, his tone turning even more menacing.
He ate the braised pork and the stir-fried greens you delivered yesterday at noon. By evening, he was vomiting and had diarrhea. The doctor called it food poisoning!
Were you using expired ingredients? Are you so greedy for money that youd poison old people?
My mind went blank, and the blood rushed to my head.
2
Absolutely not! The ingredients here are bought fresh every single morning! There is no way anything is expired!
Mr. Daviess meal was cooked exactly the same as everyone elses. If everyone else is fine, how could his meal cause food poisoning?
The same? I bet you only feed the good stuff to your friends and save the garbage for the elderly!
The man sneered and threw an empty takeout container violently onto the floor.
Five dollars for two mains and a side? How could you possibly make a profit? You must be using bruised vegetables and expired meat that nobody else would take!
If anything happens to my father, I will hold you responsible!
How dare you say that!
I was shaking with anger. I never intended to make a profit running this club! I lose money every single day! I just wanted to help solve a problem for our community. You cant just go around slandering people!
Slander? The manLuke Weaver, I now realizedtook a step closer, towering over me. My father is sick after eating your food. That is proof! What else do you have to say?
By now, the doorway was packed with neighbors, all whispering.
Mr. Davies got food poisoning? That serious?
Harper seems so honest, not the type to use bad ingredients.
But the son says his dad is in the hospital. Maybe the food really was tainted.
Five dollars is incredibly cheap. Could there actually be a catch?
I ate it today, and I think my stomach feels a little off is that just my mind playing tricks?
Hearing their murmurings, a chill ran from my head to my feet.
I rushed back into the kitchen, fumbling in a drawer for my purchase receipts and ledger.
Look! These are yesterdays receipts! I bought the produce this morning. The vendors stamp is here. You can go verify this at the market!
This is my ledger. I record what I buy and how much I spend every day. I absolutely do not use expired ingredients!
Luke didnt even look. He swept the receipts and the ledger off the counter and onto the floor.
How do I know those receipts arent fake? How do I know that ledger isnt a lie?
All I know is my father got sick after your food. You have to pay for this!
I crouched down, gathering the scattered papers, and looked up at the surrounding neighbors.
So many of them had benefited from my help. Id delivered meals, warmed up dishes for them, and even let them wait in my little kitchen when they were locked out of their homes.
Yet now, not one person stepped forward to defend me.
Mrs. Rodriguez opened her mouth as if to speak, but the man next to her nudged her arm, and she swallowed her words.
Everyone else either looked down or averted their gaze.
In that moment, the warmth in my heart vanished completely, replaced by a devastating sense of injury and rage.
I had been working from dawn till dark, selecting the best ingredients, cooking the cleanest food, subsidizing it with my own money and laborand all I got in return was the label of a poisoner.
Why did I do it? For a simple thank you, and the quiet satisfaction of helping others.
Now, my efforts were casually dismissed, my goodwill trampled. All those thanks and compliments felt like a sick joke.
Looking at the cold, judging faces of my neighbors, I suddenly felt that this whole thing was utterly, completely pointless.
I use the freshest ingredients every day. My conscience is clear, and I have nothing to hide from anyone who has eaten my food.
You have no proof that my food is the problem, yet you are publicly assassinating my character. I won't accept this.
Since my kindness is being treated as dirt, and my hard work isnt worth basic trust, The Five-Dollar Supper Club is done. I will not operate again starting today.
With that, I turned to the wall, grabbed the handmade sign for the Supper Club, and slammed it onto the floor.
3
The sign shattered, and many onlookers froze.
Oh, Harper, why are you doing this?
Someone sounded genuinely worried now.
But I just looked at them coolly. Youre all too scared to eat my food anyway, so whats the difference if I stop now?
I started gathering my things, ready to leave this heartbreaking place.
But Luke Weaver wasn't finished.
Trying to run away when you cant argue your way out of it?
He rolled up his sleeves and grabbed my arm.
If I let you escape today, you can call me by a different name! he warned, glaring at me.
I instinctively tried to shake off his hand.
But Luke Weaver immediately dropped to the floor, letting out a dramatic wail.
Ouch! Not only did you hurt my dad, now youre trying to hurt me, too?
He contorted his face into a mask of pain.
The crowd of newcomers who hadn't seen the beginning instantly erupted.
Harper, what are you doing? He just had a suspicion, and youre getting physical?
I knew there couldnt be someone that stupid, running a non-profit just to help people! Hes so desperate to run away, there must be a catch!
Exactly! Everyone, keep an eye on him! Dont let him leave!
The crowd surrounded me, sealing the exit.
Luke Weaver grinned smugly at me from the floor.
Apologize right now! Or dont blame me for hitting an old man!
My face was burning red.
Ive never been good at confrontation, and being unjustly accused like this left me speechless.
I barely touched you! Youre the one who grabbed me! I stammered, trying to explain.
But a man in the crowd countered, If you werent trying to run, would he have needed to grab you?
He was the one who said my food was tainted first! I retorted, feeling dizzy with frustration.
The people surrounding memen, women, and even some kidswere all people I had dealt with casually. Now, they were all looking at me with the eyes of a suspect.
They didnt have to trust me, but why were they so easily siding with Luke Weaver?
Was it just because he was a better actor?
Well, there was a problem. I heard someone just now say their stomach felt off after eating it!
Yeah! If youre innocent, why are you trying to escape?
I think we should all go to the doctor and get checked out. If theres anything wrong, we need to demand compensation from this old scammer!
I could see the ugly truth on all their faces. Once the seed of suspicion was planted, any little piece of bad news would inevitably be pinned on me.
For a brief, crushing moment, I felt utterly exhausted.
Luke Weaver, what exactly do you want? I asked, looking over at him with a bitter smile.
He looked back, radiating self-satisfaction.
What do I want? I want you to pay for it, of course!
My dads IV drips and other costs are at least a thousand dollars!
He rolled his eyes greedily.
4
I looked at the triumphant Luke Weaver, completely drained in body and spirit.
Coupled with the judgmental stares of the crowd, I finally gave up on trying to explain.
One thousand dollars, you say? Ill give it to you. My voice was flat now.
I retrieved my cash box and counted out the bills, handing the exact amount to Luke.
Can I leave now?
I didnt want to waste another moment on them. Id consider it the price of peace, and since I would never restart the Supper Club, I wouldnt be coming back here again.
Hold on!
Just as I turned to leave, Luke stopped me again.
The doctor said my dad has serious liver damage because of the food poisoning! Follow-up treatment will be at least ten thousand dollars!
He held out his hand to me.
My eyes widened in shock.
Ten thousand dollars? I only have three thousand dollars to my name! If I give you that, Ill only have two thousand left. You cant drive a person to ruin! I glared at Luke, outraged.
He was clearly just price-gouging, taking advantage of my good nature to demand more money.
But Luke didnt care.
Me driving you to ruin? If youve got a problem, come with me to the hospital and hear what the doctor says! He grabbed my collar.
Im only asking for ten thousand because Im being generous! Otherwise, my dads future treatment will cost eighty or even a hundred thousand! Luke threatened, his expression smug.
My face went scarlet.
But what was even worse was the crowd of onlookers.
Hey, my stomach hasnt been feeling right either! You owe me money, too!
Thats right, Im not feeling great either. I wont ask for much, but you should give me at least five hundred dollars, right?
Seeing that there was money to be extorted, these people all rushed forward to demand compensation!
The sight of their ugly, avaricious faces hit me like a physical blow. I couldn't catch my breath, my vision went white, and I collapsed.

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