Phantoms of Folklore

No Buck, No Luck

A strange tiny critter will grant you much luck

As long as you feed him, this greedy Buck

No Buck, No Luck

Agnes had never really been the most popular girl at school. And now, Agnes was not the most popular person at the office either. She was always passed over, forgotten. Her colleagues rarely remembered her name. Her good work performance was ignored and thus she was always overlooked for promotions. Agnes feared that if she stood still for too long she would fade into the wallpaper, becoming part of the decor. Agnes was an assistant to the head of marketing for Hayzelle Cosmetics. That meant she fetched Mr Caleb's coffee, scheduled his appointments and took his calls. It also meant that Mr Caleb himself rarely noticed her unless his coffee was late.

There he was now. Agnes had practiced her speech for hours the previous night. She would get her boss, Caleb, to listen to her ideas for once. She wanted to be an asset to the company. She got up from her desk, smoothing her skirt and adjusting her blouse as she approached Caleb. She was mentally going over what she would say. Caleb was heading to his office, stone-faced as usual, briefcase in hand.

Agnes took her chances. Voice trembling, she said: "Good morning Mr Caleb, I'd like to have a word with you about some ideas i had-"

"I have an idea," said Caleb," get my coffee."

And with that he walked into his office, shutting the door behind him. Agnes returned to her desk with a melancholy sigh.

That evening, Agnes was walking home, reflecting over her day when she saw it. It was a small flyer. There was nothing particularly peculiar or outstanding about it. It was just a black and white flyer: no pictures, just words.

"Life not going your way? Overworked? Underpaid? Overlooked, perhaps? Call Papa Sammas at 919 3359. Caution: Only for the truly desperate."

Only for the truly desperate, Agnes thought. How silly? An ad that insulted its target audience. The flyer reminded Agnes of the spirit-crushing incident with Mr Caleb earlier that day. She was certainly overlooked. She was most definitely underpaid. She had to be available at all hours if Mr Caleb needed something done that was not important enough for him to do personally. Agnes pushed these thoughts out of her head as she neared the apartment complex where she lived. She reached into her handbag, fishing for her keys and pulled out...the flyer. 

What, she thought, this can't be. I don't remember taking it with me.

Agnes reasoned that she must have forgotten she had even picked it up. She found herself that night, lounging on the sofa in her apartment, tempted to call. How could it hurt? It would probably be funny to call. She dialed the number. The phone rang several times with no answer. Agnes hung up. She was actually disappointed. She tried again with the same result. She was really irritated now. 

"This guy is probably a quack, anyway!" she fumed aloud, pacing back and forth in her living room.

One more time, she thought, picking up the portable receiver and dialing the number. It rang only once when to Agnes' surprise, a faint voice emanated from the receiver. Someone had picked up.

"You must really want this," the voice said.

It sounded like an a man of a great age.

"Papa Sammas?!" Agnes said.

"Well, you're calling my number. What did you expect?" asked Papa Sammas.

The question was mocking but not in a particularly offensive way. The jovial tone of his voice put Agnes at ease. She was at a loss for words though. What would she ask him? As it turned out, she did not have to pose any questions, Papa Sammas was ready with the answers.