Little black book

I received an email whose subject read “Congratulations! You won the grand prize.” I opened the email and read the content. It was about a story writing contest and I had just won the grand prize of $20,000. The email had all details on how to deposit the prize. there was a link that led to a secured website, with a one-way authentication form: whatever I put as banking information could not be used from the other end. This means it was legit. The problem was, I never wrote any contest. I did not know anything about writing but the occasional emails and text messages. How could I have written a story? I proceeded with filling the form.

Three days later, I received a text message from my bank, informing me I had a new deposit. I logged on to my bank app and there it was, an extra $20,000 in my account. Still trying to realize what was happening, I decided to check the platform. They had recently had a contest about writing a story. The list of contestants, the prizes won, the winners, my name, all this information was on the website. I reached for my drawer and removed a new black book to start documenting the names of all the contestants and the organizers. I wanted to know why and how I got this fortune, but I was more worried about it being a misfortune. I wanted to know so bad that I did not bother writing from the first page. I started from whatever page I opened the book at. There were 28 people in total, myself inclusive. If I searched for a person a day, it would take me about a month to go through the list.

I started the next day. I gave a day per person but a name for possibly hundreds of people. Thankfully, in this day and age, most people write what they’re up to. The more people I searched the more I told myself whoever submitted my name may have submitted for other people. There were two names from the organizing committee with whom I and the other possible contestants had as mutual friends: Kahlifa Pitts and Norbert Brown. Norbert Brown sounded repeated like I had seen this name before.

With the increasing fear of the prize becoming a misfortune, I decided to dig deeper. I opened Kahlifa Pitts’ profile and wrote down in my black book any information that would help with my investigation. Where he worked, what town he lived in, his hobbies. We lived in the same town. I messaged him a random flyer for an oil change at half the price any other auto repair shop would do it for. That was my idea of bait.

A couple of weeks passed by and my anxiety grew stronger but had no response. It was almost spring. When most people do their oil change. Then going through the list of customers at that hour, I saw his name. I asked my employee which of the customers he was. I then kept a close eye on him. With his oil changed, he hopped in his car and left. I decided to follow at a distance in my service car. He stopped at a building downtown that had the logo of the platform that had sent me the email. While waiting for a couple of hours, I started wondering if it wasn’t a foolish quest. I would always console myself by telling myself it was better to know than to not know and misfortune befalls. While still in my thoughts, Mr. Pitts exited the building, started his car, and was on his way. I followed.

I had been following him for weeks now that I practical knew his routine. I assumed he worked at the tall building with the logo, I knew where he lived, I even knew his favorite coffee shop, but none of this still gave me a clue as to why and how I had won the grand prize. One day, we took an unusual turn. Unaware of what was about to happen, I stopped right next to the police station Mr. Pitts had himself stopped at. Before I realized it, my car was surrounded. I was getting arrested to be questioned. While in the waiting room, the police told me Mr. Pitts came in and complained he had noticed for about a month now that my car with the same driver followed him everywhere he went. It dawned on me I was so focused on the goal of finding where the money came from that I didn’t even realize how much time had passed. A month?

“Is it true or not?” I heard faintly as I gradually came back from my daydreaming.

“It is officer” I replied.

“But I have an explanation”. I proceeded to tell my story.

In the meantime, Mr. Pitts stopped at his office and shared his experience with some of his colleagues. The main organizer heard this story and asked for him and Mr. Pitts to be excused. He said they had to get to the police station.

While I was still saying my story, the main officer in charge of questioning me was called outside. He excused himself and I was left alone, sitting in a chair, waiting to finish my story. As I sat, I wondered if it’ll be like in the movies where someone says exactly what really happened but no one believes them. The more time passed, the more I thought about stuff that just made my anxiety grow stronger.

The officer came back in with another man. I knew that man. He often came by the car repair shop. The officer introduced the man as Mr. Brown. I then realized it was from the shop I had seen that name.

Mr. Brown started by apologizing for the misunderstanding. I accepted the apology. I proceeded by asking when he had to do with any of this. He went ahead and told me about the contest. He had submitted my name because he heard me have a conversation with my contractor about renovating and upgrading my shop.

“I never used to trust mechanics,” he said “but I trust you. Never have you ever tried to rip me. You always repair what is to be, and advice about what may be next time.”

“I thought it would be nice to help out someone as honest as yourself”

I did not know what to say, I was speechless. After about half an hour worth of conversation, I thanked him immensely. The officer let me go with no charges. On my way home, I stopped by the shop. In my office, I reached for my drawer to find my black book. I opened the first page and then I remembered what I had bought the black book for. It was to morally and ethically remind me of my work. There, on the first page was written: “Do your work in all honesty and virtuousness”.