The Little Black Book

Today of all days Mum wanted her house cleaned.

I had everything planned for my weekend and it was not to be vacuuming, mopping and dusting.

“I’m sorry Mum, I can’t do it today, Celia and I are going shopping and then catching up with Del for lunch. “

“No, no, I need it to be cleaned today. My week is terribly busy too, you know!”

Yeah sure, I thought. Probably one thing to do each day and she is busy. After caring for my parents for several years and now just mum, I have learnt that this is busy for them.

Arguing would not help so I suggested just one of the chores.

“How about I do the dusting and then when I get back later this afternoon, I will do the rest. Would that suit?”

So here I was furiously dusting the living room when I knocked Mums precious black vase, (secretly all of us kids all thought it was ugly and had wanted to throw it out or perhaps accidently break it many times) off the mantel piece.

I watched in slow motion as it toppled over. Reaching out to grab it I missed it only managing to make it tumble more. The vase then flipped over beyond my reach and fell to the floor.

Crash!!

“Shit, Shit,shit,shit. “

I dashed out to the kitchen broom cupboard and grabbed the dustpan, hoping that mum had not heard, and started to clean up the pieces.

“Well, that’s a bit odd”, I said.

It had not shattered as I expected after hitting the floorboards but had broken into rather large shards.

As I looked closer, I could see that paper was glued to some pieces while the bottom of the vase seemed to contain a tiny black book.

“What on earth is this”. Remembering in time to keep my ruddy voice down.

I could not hear my Mum, so I quickly picked up the pieces and swiftly walked into my room and put it on the bed. My curiosity was peeked. I walked out and shut the door secure in the knowledge that Mum wouldn’t go into my room and resumed the dusting.

“Finished Mum,” I called out after ten minutes and headed back to my room curious as a cat to see what was with the vase.

“Thanks, dear. I’m going over to Thelma’s for a cuppa so you enjoy your luncheon.”

My mum had left the building.

I knelt next to my bed and started very gentle to peel of the papers affixed to the shards.

My head was swarming with thoughts, wanting to mostly check out this little black book but I managed my ever-growing curiosity and concentrated on the shards.

The paper pieces certainly looked old, but the ink print was very visible.

After laying all the pieces out, I then jumbled them around like a jigsaw puzzle until they fit back together.

Canadian Bearer Bonds dated 1946 with a value of $20,000.

“Well blow me down “, I practically shouted.

They must be worth a lot more now. Did Mum know they were here or had she forgotten. Mum had told us that it had been a wedding present from Uncle Guy, her oldest sibling, but nothing else. He had been dead for at least forty years and we only knew a little about his background. My head was swirling with thoughts and the fact that my Mum may be a little bit wealthier than she is now. Geez Louise!!

Now for that little black book.

Was it spy codes, (Uncle Guy had been in the armed forces and I know that it was all a little hushed up about what he did during the war) perhaps fake documents or maybe, just maybe, details of a hidden treasure somewhere on a small island in the pacific? I know fanciful, but it just could be.

I can hear my siblings saying, ‘there she goes again with her outlandish ideas’.

Mind you they do not say it as often now as I am a published writer, well, yeah it was only a few short stories, but one had been made into a tv series and even scored an Emmy Award for the screenplay so I can still brag. Siblings being siblings, I was still just their slightly crazy funny sister.

I ever so carefully pulled it away from the bottom of the vase.

It was only fifteen centimeters long and ten centimeters wide, bound in shiny lacquer embossed with a fairy on a quarter moon with stars around on the cover. Mum had never used the vase for fresh flowers only fake ones a time or two but nothing else. She must know what is in it surely.

I opened it up, ready for adventure, intrigue or skullduggery.

As I flicked through each page slowly waiting for the big reveal, I realized what it was.

A flip animated picture book.

Each page had stick figures drawn on, with a subtle change to each one so that when you flicked through the book it was an animated tale. Slowly I went through it realizing with each page that it was a diary, of sought, of a young woman’s life.

It was my Mums story.

They had been done in watercolor, beautifully painted, showing her life from birth to marriage. I must have played with this little black book for ten minutes or more before I realized there were tears running down my face. I reached over to the bedside table and grabbed a couple of tissues as I’m sure that tears dripping on the pages would ruin these exquisite paintings.

My brothers and sisters were going to love this.

The particular attention to detail in every page and the time and effort that Uncle Guy had taken to paint each figure was so beautiful and a most loving gift to his sister.

How absolutely wonderful was he to not bestow one gift to his baby sister but two?

Had mum known this was there?

Gosh this is going to be some surprise.

Yes, the bearer bonds were going to be life changing but did not compare in anyway to the changes painted in colour of my Mums childhood to marriage as seen through the eyes of her brother.

THE END……………so far….