The Genie in a Little Black Book

All the feelings I had that day when I last saw Vanessa flooded through me as I saw her standing there.

I hadn’t wanted to go to that cheesy five-year reunion, but my best friend insisted I be his wingman. How glad I am that I did. It had been a wish of mine to see her just one more time. Then I could die a happy man.

Eight years ago, when she was living three doors up the street from me, she was 13, slender with long red hair. She had the greenest eyes that could pierce your soul. She probably didn’t know it, but she could take my heart and wring it like a wet dishcloth and toss it to the side without even knowing she was doing that. I was smitten.

It was the last day of school and I had been stuck with book inventory in the library. I heard a commotion in the hall and moved quietly to the door in time to hear Vanessa telling her father that she didn’t want to go, she had things at home that she needed. She had to get her brothers, ten-year-old twins, and that it would take a while for her to be ready to leave.

Her father was dragging her down the hall and finally out of the building. I panicked. It sounded like her father was bolting, and that meant that I would never see Vanessa again. I suddenly didn’t know why I was messing with textbooks, so I left them. I raced out of the building and jumped on my bike, hell-bent for home and hoping that I would be able to at least tell her goodbye.

My heart felt like it was going to explode from the exertion of pumping my bike up that final hill. It was usually a gentle grade, but that day it was Mount Everest. I was desperate and grieving a loss that I didn’t want to face. I dumped my bike unceremoniously in my yard so I could casually saunter by, maybe catch a glimpse of her before they left.

No one knew what had happened to Vanessa’s mom. Rumors were basically split between divorced or dead. Vanessa was always taking care of her younger brothers and the house. Her father seemed to come in at odd hours of the early morning, leave again after they went to school and drink in between. Vanessa had everyone’s sympathy.

And there she was, eight years later, in person, all grown up. She had done a spectacular job of that. She was talking with Janine, the organizer of this little reunion, who was trying to keep her out.

“You’re weren’t in our class, and I don’t have you on a roster,” Janine was saying as I approached.

“Hello,” I said, looking at Vanessa. “Thanks for meeting me here. Sorry I couldn’t pick you up as my plus one for this event. Janine, thank you for making Vanessa feel welcome! You have done a super job with this reunion thing.”

Janine blushed, but didn’t say a word as Vanessa walked past her, holding on to my arm. I felt rather unstable on my feet.

“Thank you for saving me!” Vanessa said. “I was hoping I would find you here.”

I felt lost already. Vanessa was looking for me?

“You came here, hoping to find me?” I said, as I escorted her to a table in the back so we could talk.

“I hope that’s ok. I don’t want to sound inappropriate, or stalkerish…”

“No, please,” I said, hoping she would continue.

She did continue. She filled me in on lots of information. That she found a posting on social media about this reunion and thought she would try to find me. We had both moved away and she had been unable to find me through other means. How her brothers were now in college and she felt free to make decisions for herself for a change. How that day they left, her father was drunk and driving like a racecar driver down the highway. The autopsy said that he had a heart attack which caused the crash that killed him. Vanessa and the boys escaped with superficial injuries, only to endure foster care.

We sat in a brief silence while she twirled a strand of that beautiful red hair around her finger. She turned her green eyes on me, as if waiting for me to respond to what she had said. I took another moment to gather my thoughts.

“You might not realize, but you have shaped my life since that day you left.” I looked down, feeling somewhat self-conscious, but wanting to continue.

“I was too far away to say goodbye to you that day, but I saw your father toss some things into the barrel where old man Johnson had some leaves burning. After your car left, I went over to see what they were. One was a badly burned teddy bear, and the other was that black pocket-sized book I used to see you carry with you everywhere.”

“I honestly haven’t given those things a second thought since that day,” Vanessa said.

“I wasn’t able to save the bear, but the book was only mostly burned. I was able to read some of the words you wrote. Magic, wishes, dreams, vision, light. I took those words and rearranged them endlessly in a black book I got for myself. I tried to recreate the exact wording you had.

“But what I discovered was that having a blank book is like having a magic lamp and a genie rolled into one. You write your hopes and dreams into them, and the magic happens. There is so much potential in an empty book.”

Vanessa looked awestruck for several moments. “Wait, you sound like you still have that book. Do you?”

I answered by pulling the book out of my coat pocket. I had been able to stop it from further crumbling with specific coatings. “I always carry it with me. It’s brought me many happy circumstances.”

I pulled out another, intact black book. “I’ve also had a black book since that day. Over the past eight years I’ve rubbed probably 70 or more magic lamps. Great things have happened, and I have you to thank.”

Vanessa looked at me with those mesmerizing green eyes. “Since you still have the magic lamp, we have a magic carpet ride awaiting. Come on!”

A short while later, we were standing outside of her old house with a police detective. Vanessa filled him in on the details, of that fateful day her father died, what she left behind, how folded newspaper had fooled her father more than once, and what she hoped they could accomplish. Detective Benson shrugged his shoulders.

“What could it hurt?”

Having asked permission from the old couple who had moved in after Vanessa’s family left, she led the way to the opening into the attic. It was just a square that had a cover you pushed off. Detective Benson gave her a boost and she pulled herself up.

The old couple were curious, but silent. We could hear noises coming from the attic, a bump, a cry, and then a shout that she was ok. After a longer time than I would have thought necessary, Vanessa shoved a box out of the opening. The detective caught it while I helped Vanessa down. She looked amazing even with spider webs and dust in her hair.

“What’s up with this?” Detective Benson asked. He was looking at a metal box that had been wrapped in faux-wood vinyl shelf liner. He shook it and heard some faint clinks and what could have been papers.

“That’s where the magic lamp comes in,” Vanessa said. She carried the box to the kitchen table. She held out her hand for the book I had while she explained.

“I had to wrap the box in something that looked like rafters so my father wouldn’t find it. I used to put all the extra money in it I could find, trying to hide it where it wouldn’t be noticeable.”

I handed her the multi-tool from my keychain. She carefully removed the shelf-liner from around the opening of the box, ready for the key. Then she took the remnant of the burned book, opened it to the back few pages. I thought they had been damaged in the fire and had never tried to open them, but apparently Vanessa had glued a thumbprint sized portion of about twelve pages shut. She carefully opened a small pocket she had carved in the book that held the key to the box. She handed it to Detective Benson.

“I don’t know what my father was in to back then, but he was never totally legit. I didn’t have time to look at any of it eight years ago, but you might find it helpful for solving some crime that was committed back then.”

The detective opened the box and gave a low whistle. “This appears to be the twenty-thousand dollars that went missing from the City First Bank. That case never was solved.”

Then it was my turn to give a low whistle. “That’s the bank that my father was the manager of. I don’t remember much about the specifics, but he was thought to have been in on the plot to steal the money. He couldn’t have done that. He was demoted, then finally let go in budget cuts. He sold used cars after that. He has struggled ever since because he was never able to clear himself of those charges.”

“Well, I tell you what kid, this might be the ticket he needs. I’ll get this down to the station and let you both know what we find out.” He turned to Vanessa. “And thanks for your help. I’m sure the loss was insured but clearing this young man’s father is probably worth solving the case. Good night, folks,” he said, bowing to the old couple as we all left the house.

Alone with Vanessa back in the old neighborhood, I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. I thanked the genies of all those little black books I had lining the shelves of my library. The magic in them had been powerful, indeed.

“Looks like your magic lamp has given you a few more wishes,” Vanessa said.

“Clearing my dad’s name has been a big one for a long time. Thanks to you, that will happen now. Seeing you again has been at the top of the list, however.”

Vanessa laughed softly. “I’m sure we can think of a few more wishes for the magic lamp. I’ve got a sudden urge to go to a bookstore to buy a couple of black books. Care to come?”

And the magic continues.