The Little Black Book

THE LITTLE BLACK BOOK

With my head down, I trudge down the street towards my apartment building. Just as I was about to cross the street, I glance up and catch a glimpse of a person in a bright red jacket on the other side of the street. For some reason, it appears as though they are purposely headed straight at me. So I pick up my pace and add in a few weaving steps to get, but the stranger matches my weaves and steps into my path, forcing me to stop short.

“I have a solution to your problem,” said the stranger while shoving a little black book into my hand, then walking briskly away. Not understanding what just happened, I continued to walk home, but now with a little black book in my hand.

Once home, I inspect the mysterious book. The leather cover is well-worn and the straps are a bit tattered. Untying the straps, I open the book and find it filled with old parchment paper. As I flip through the pages, I realize that the book is blank.

Why would someone give me an old, leatherbound book with no writing in it? And what did the stranger mean by “I have a solution to your problem”. Just what problem are they referring too?

Frustrated, I toss the book across the table. As the book falls, it lands open on its spine, pages fluttering. As I watch the moving pages, words seem to materialize onto the old parchment paper. Upon closer inspection, the writing is old cursive, written in thick, black ink.

I gently pick up the book and thumb through the pages which are now filled with what looks to be journal entries or poetry passages. Skimming through the pages, I realize each passage is different from the next and each passage seems to convey a unique message. I flip back to the beginning of the book and start to read the first passage, intent on reading every one of them tonight.

As I finish reading the last passage, I realize that my morning alarm is about to go off. Curious as to what this day will bring, I head to the Way Pointe Café for breakfast.

Upon entering, Sara calls out, “You're early today, Mr. Miller. Is it still the usual?”

“Yes, please.” I reply as I sit down and open the little black book to randomly read through the passages.

“Here you go Mr. Miller. It’s such a pleasant surprise to see you here so early,” Sara said as she put down my food.

“Yeah, I didn’t sleep much.”

“What a coincidence - I didn’t sleep much either!” Sara exclaimed. “I got a call yesterday from Twink Games for an interview today! So, all night long my mind just wouldn’t stop thinking about what outfit I should wear and what questions I’d be asked in the interview. And I’ve been planning a big celebration for my mom’s birthday which is also today and so I’ve had to pawn everything onto my brother and sister cause now I’m not going to make it to the party. I feel so bad that I won’t be there, but I’m also just so excited for the interview!”

“Good for you, Sara. Too bad about your mom’s party, but that sounds like a great opportunity.”

“Thanks, Mr. Miller. I think so too! But if I’m going to make it to my interview on time, I’ve got to get out of here! I’ll see you tomorrow.”

As Sara walked away, I’m unable to shake a sense of familiarity to her situation. Taking the last bite of my bagel, I open the book again, intent on reading more passages. As I thumb through the pages, one of the passages seems to stand out more than the others:

“The opportunity at hand is great, but family is more important.

Keep working hard and what you desire will come to pass”

Interesting…this message seems to speak to Sara’s situation...but just what am I expected to do with this? I’m in no position to be giving Sara advice and besides, this is a great opportunity for her, I can’t mess it up by showing her a passage from my “magical” book!

Having made up my mind, I pay for my meal and leave. As I walk back home, I feel a heaviness upon me. I step off the elevator and notice my neighbor, Milo, standing in his doorway.

“Hi, Daniel, you look distraught. What’s going on?” Milo asked.

“Have you ever had the feeling that there is something you’re supposed to do, but you don’t know what that is exactly?”

“Well, that sounds interesting…why don’t you tell me a bit more?” responded Milo.

“Well, a friend of mine needed to be given a message, or maybe it’s more like advice, but I didn’t feel like it was my place to give her the message…er advice. Besides, if she knew where the message came from, she wouldn’t believe me and would probably think I’ve gone crazy.” I explained.

“And you really feel that this message is meant for your friend?” asked Milo.

“I do, but I just don’t want to look foolish.” I replied.

“Well, then, it seems pretty clear to me. Just give your friend the advice or message and you’ll have to leave the rest up to her. Whether or not she believes you or even what she does with the message is up to her. You will have fulfilled your obligation.” Milo advised.

“Sounds like good advice,” I said. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

¨Well, I do have an interesting family issue going on, but I’m not sure there’s much you can do.”

“Oh really - what’s going on?” I ask.

“My father has been trying to figure out who his real father is. His biological father died when he was really young. My father was eventually taken in by a young couple and raised as one of their own. My grandparents are both gone now and my father found a box in their attic with his name on it and the contents appear to be possessions of his biological father. He has been combing through the box, but so far none of it has led him to his father’s identify.” Milo explained.

¨Wow, that is tough. I can’t think of anything I can do, but keep me posted.” And with that I take my leave.

As I enter my place, it dawns on me that maybe this is what I’m meant to do with the book - be its messenger. And if the receiver doesn’t listen or believe me, that’s okay. I did my part by delivering the message.

I open the book to Sara’s passage and find that the ink to her passage had turned blood red and somehow, I know it’s too late for Sara’s message. I don’t know what this means for Sara, I just know I failed in my delivery of the message.

I decide to do a little light reading before bed and I start to read through the passages once more. Suddenly, one seems to stand out more than any of the others:

“You have overlooked an important piece. Look again and history will be revealed”

This is it - this is how I can help Milo! I pullout my cell phone and text Milo that I might have something that will help his dad. He agreed to take me to see him at 11am tomorrow.

- - - - - - - - -

The next morning, I hurry down to the Café to see Sara.

“Is Sara working today?” I ask the cashier.

“No, her mother had a stroke last night.”

“A stroke - how bad is it?” I ask quietly.

“She’s unresponsive and it’s not looking good.” the cashier replied somberly.

I slowly turn around and walk out the door. As I walk home, I decide that from here on out, I will never deny anyone a message from this book as long as it’s in my possession.

Realizing it’s almost 11am, I hurry over to Milo’s place.

- - - - - - - - -

Milo pulls up to his dad’s house, but before we could ring the doorbell, the door is jerked open and a man pulls Milo into a big bear hug and yells, “Milo, my boy, how are you?”

Milo laughs and gestures to me saying, “This is Daniel, the friend I told you about.”

Milo’s dad shakes my hand and says, “I’m Leon. Come on in.“

We all head over to the couch and sit down.

“So what’s this all about?” asked Leon.

I nervously clear my throat, “This is probably going to sound a little weird, but I know that you have been searching for information about your biological father and I believe ‘You have overlooked an important piece. Look again and history will be revealed’.”

Leon points to a box on the coffee table and says, “I’d like to believe that you could help, but I’ve searched through this box countless times and still haven’t found anything helpful”.

“May I take a look?” I ask.

Leon pushes the box over to me. As I dig through the contents of the box, I quietly whisper the passage one more time, “You have overlooked an important piece. Look again and history will be revealed.”

An important piece, maybe a timepiece, like the old pocket watch staring up at me?

“Leon, do you mind if I take a look at the pocket watch?” I ask.

“Please do.”

I carefully pick it up and it seems to be in good condition. I open it up and find that on one side has a picture inserted into the frame.

I run my fingers around the edge of the picture frame and ask, “Have you been able to remove the picture from the frame?”

“I’ve not tried.”

I continue to run my hand around the edge concentrating on a way to open it when I hear a little click from a pressurized latch and the frame opens. I slip the picture out of the frame and turn it over to find the following handwritten words:

“This watch will someday belong to Leon, my son. I love you, never forget that. Love your father, Stefan D. Schafer”

As I finish reading, I notice Leon had tears running down his face. I handed the photo to Leon, who gently took it and walked out of the room.

Milo and I sit in silence for a few minutes and then Milo gets up and says, “I've got a phone call to make.” And he leaves the room.

Shortly after this, Leon comes back in and asks, “How did you know, there was something I missed?”

“If I told you, you wouldn’t believe me.”

At that moment, Milo walks in the room and says excitedly, “I’ve got some news! I called my lawyer to see what he could find out about a Stefan D. Schafer and there is a home in Hunter, NY under the name of Stefan D. Schafer. Before you and your father moved, he had left this house in the care of a friend and this friend has lived in it and taken care of it ever since. The sad news is that your father’s friend recently passed away. But the house is still there as well as a bank account with a little over $20,000 in it. These are both in probate and will be turned over to the state in 60 days without an heir! Dad, this house could possibly tell us even more about your father!”

My mind is blown! As Milo and Leon continue to talk excitedly about this great find, I open my little black book to the passage meant for them and to my amazement, it was no longer there.