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The Little Black Book

Where there's history, there's hope

By Michael TriggPublished 3 years ago 9 min read
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Grandpa's Black Book. Image: Dimitri Houtterman, Unsplash

Gilly's grandfather's funeral was over. Family members and friends had departed and now all that was left for Gilly was to grieve for his grandpa. He had actually been grieving for a couple of months beginning around the time when his grandpa began losing his memory.

His mom had talked to him a few times about death and how to deal with it but Gilly thought it was easier said than done. Coming to terms with the loss of someone so important in your life; especially when you're only twelve years old was hard. His grandpa had been a constant in his life.

The big issue with grandpa's death was the lack of a will. It was two weeks since he had passed on and there was no sign of it. Gill had overheard his mom and dad discussing it and also knew they needed to find $20,000 to cover the last of grandpa's medical costs. It seems his parents were stretched financially and their own house was mortgaged to the limit.

Growing up, he had spent a lot of time visiting his grandpa at his house but had few memories of his grandma as he was only five when she died. Their house, just a block away from Gilly's mom and dad's place was an old, two-story clapboard house with a rambling garden and he loved it. Most of all, he loved the attic. It was cluttered with lots of boxes and crates, pictures, tools and stuff and two large trunks, one full of old books and the other one, always locked and secured with big leather straps. He had asked his grandpa about it several times when they had been in the attic but his grandpa had always said to Gilly.

"That's a secret for me to know and you to find out one day."

On this particular day, he wandered over to his grandpa's house, retrieved the back door key his grandpa always left under the fake rock by the back gate and let himself into the house. He wandered around for a bit, thinking of his grandpa and eventually found his way up to the attic. He sat on the steamer trunk for a bit and let his eyes wander around, remembering times he was here with his grandpa. It was then he spotted the key. It was hanging on a hook from one of the open rafters just above the entrance door to the attic. It was way out of his reach so he dragged an old wooden chair over to the doorway and standing on his tippy toes was able to snag the key.

He jumped down off the chair with his prize and studied it. It was old and rusty and in a flash, Gilly knew it was the key to the steamer trunk.

"Hhhmmm'" he said out loud.

He crouched down in front of the trunk and inserted the key in the lock. After a bit of jiggling, he managed to turn it and heard a clack. He undid the two straps and cautiously opened the lid. The trunk contained an old wooden box. He tried to lift it out but he couldn't get his fingers down the sides to get a grip. Then he noticed straps tucked down two of the sides. He looked around and found a couple of wire coat hangers. He straightened each one out and using them as hooks he managed to snag the straps and lift them up. He took hold of each strap and lifted the box out of the trunk. He was setting it on the floor when he noticed a lock, set in the top of the box.

"Oh no." Gilly said to himself. "Another lock."

"Gilly!"

His mom's voice called out from downstairs.

"Are you here?"

"I'm up in the attic mom." he called back.

"Would you come down? I've told you I don't like you being in grandpa's house alone."

Gilly picked up the box with the two straps and placed it back in the trunk. In the darkness of the attic, he failed to notice a little black book on the floor of the trunk. He closed the lid and locked it, putting the key in his pocket. He made his way down the attic stairs. His mom, Winona, was waiting at the bottom, hands on hips and an annoyed look on her face.

"Gilly, your dad is coming home later today and I could do with some help with the twins and your sister. I need you to keep them entertained while I get dinner ready amongst other things. Look, I know the loss of Grandpa Lewis is not fair but we just have to deal with it as a family. I count on you when your dad is away."

Gilly shrugged. He followed his mom out the door and watched as she locked the back door and pocketed the key.

Later that day, Gilly's dad Washington arrived home. He'd had to leave for some out of town meetings right after the funeral. As the family sat around the dinner table, Washington looked tired. This latest trip to meet with movie investors in California had not gone well.

Later, after dinner was over, the table cleared and dishes done, the family gathered in the living room. Washington played with the twins until their bedtime. He then spent some time with Letty, Gilly's younger sister until it was her bedtime. That left Gilly and his mom and dad in an uncomfortable silence.

Finally, Washington said: "I got a call from my dad's lawyer today. No evidence that he made a will. We can't do anything with his house until his estate is probated. It could take months.

"Well, you are just going to have to forget this movie dream Washington," said Gilly's mom.

Gilly listened to the back and forth between his mother and father. He felt a sense of pride that they included him in some of these grownup discussions and didn't treat him like a little kid.

His mother continued.

"If the issue is with the script as you mentioned, how are you going to get around that?"

Washington sat morosely.

"I need more facts to base the script on," he said. "More factual historical data; information that can be used to drive a marketing campaign. A hook. That's what movie-making is about today. Marketing and stars. We have one star; we just don't have anything out of the box for a marketing campaign. I'm beginning to think no one cares about the history of the black slave trade."

"Black people do," replied Winona.

Washington thought for a moment. "Not enough of them it seems. And black history is about as interesting to most white folks as toenail fungus. And, many black people are ashamed of their past. Take my dad for example."

Gilly glanced from his mom to his dad.

"I found something in grandpa's attic today. He has a couple of old trunks stored up there and I found the key to one of them."

"Gilly, they are nothing but storage for a collection of moldy old books your grandpa has collected over the years."

Gilly shook his head.

"Yes. That's one of the trunks. The other one was locked and I found the key."

His dad showed a flicker of interest. His mom interrupted.

"Wash, I told him not to go over to your dad's house by himself. The place needs a good clean and there's junk everywhere. Those attic stairs are an accident waiting to happen."

"Hold on Winona. What are you saying Gilly?"

Gilly pulled the key out of his pocket and handed it to his dad.

"I found this. It was hanging on a hook over the doorway. It's the key to grandpa's steamer trunk. I know it's a steamer trunk cause I looked it up on the internet. I opened the trunk and inside is a wood box but I don't know what's in it."

Washington got to his feet.

"Let's go over to your grandpa's house Gilly. Show me what you found."

"Mom's got the door key."

Winona handed the door key to her husband with a sigh. A few minutes later, Gilly was leading his dad up the stairs to his grandpa's attic. In the attic, he took the trunk key from his pocket and handed it to his dad. Washington unlocked the trunk and lifted the lid.

"Okay, let's pull this box out and see what your grandpa has been hiding."

Washington grabbed the two straps and pulled the box up and out. That's when Gilly saw the little black book sitting on the bottom of the trunk. He picked it up. It was old and tattered and closed with a piece of string.

'Look at this dad."

Gilly handed the book to his dad. Washington turned the notebook over and saw there was a key taped to the outside of the back cover.

"I wonder if this is the key to the box."

He pulled the key off, inserted it into the lock, turned it and the lid opened. The box was crammed full of yellowed, old papers. Gilly meanwhile, full of curiosity had picked up the black book and untied the string. The notebook fell open and a sealed envelope dropped to the floor. Gilly picked it up and handed it to his dad.

"Here dad, what's this?"

Washington flipped the envelope over. On the front were the words "For a Rainy Day."

"This looks mysterious Gilly. Let's see."

Washington tore the end off the envelope and shook the contents out.

"Well, I'll be. This looks like your grandpa's will Gilly. Yup. It's your grandpa's will alright. A handwritten one."

When Washington had unfolded the document, an envelope fell to the floor. Gilly picked it up and peeked under the flap that was only partially sealed.

"Dad. I think there's money in here."

He handed it to his dad who slid the contents out. It was money. $20,000 to be exact. Grandpa's rainy day fund he had forgotten about.

Father and son looked at each other and then Gilly's dad embraced him with a big hug.

"Your mother is not going to believe this."

He gestured to the pile of paper in the box.

"Let's take a look at this."

He picked up several pages and glanced at the scrawled handwriting. His jaw dropped and he picked up a few more sheets. Scanning them, he moved back and dropped into a chair. He looked at his son and reached out an arm.

"Gilly, this is unbelievable. Your grandpa was always embarrassed about black slavery history but he has left us with the most incredible source of his embarrassment. This language? I think it's our ancestors' African language. Astounding. This a diary going back generations."

To Be Continued.

A week later, the headlines in the Washington Post read.

A Search For A Will Yields Discovery of the Most Important Historical Records By A Black Slave And His Descendants Ever Found.

Two months later in Variety Magazine.

Washington Ellis, a rookie film-maker, has signed a production financing deal for his first major film as a producer. The script is based on the black slave trade and entitled "The Little Black Book".

humanity
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About the Creator

Michael Trigg

I love writing and I think it shows in my posts. I also enjoy feedback, particularly of the constructive kind. Some people think I am past my "best before date" but if that is true, it just means I have matured.

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