Whole New World

Maya stepped out the glass door with a shiver. A strong breeze swept through with such intensity it made her stop and regain her footing – November in the Windy City. Could be way worse, she reminded herself, taking a deep inhale before adjusting her mask. At least the sun’s still out, she thought gratefully.

It had been a long shift at the Bite Grill. Lunch hour was super busy, but she wasn’t complaining. Not at all. The restaurant where she served night shifts had closed its doors three weeks ago. So, she was glad she still got to keep her day gig.

Ping. Maya glanced at the text.

"Your next payment is due on the 10th…"

She shoved her phone back in her pocket without reading the whole thing. Despite the scholarships, she had racked up $14,000 in student debt. She had completed her bachelor’s degree last May – Magna Cum Laude. Yet there she was, struggling to keep a minimum paying job, barely making rent. What a time to graduate.

A familiar pang stabbed at her belly – a rude reminder she hadn’t eaten anything all day. Perfect timing! She didn’t have the energy to wallow in self-pity anyway. Settling into a bench on the curb, Maya fished out her chicken-caesar sandwich from the paper bag. She was about to take a bite when she saw a man eyeing her, or more accurately, eyeing her sandwich. He didn’t say anything, but he didn’t have to. His face, contorted with hunger, spoke for him.

Maya walked over and handed him half her sandwich. His eyes lit up so brightly that it managed to quell her stomach, which was growling in protest. She smiled and reclaimed her seat on the bench. Well, fewer calories to burn. She was trying this thing where she would put a positive spin on everything. With the isolation and a million stressors COVID brought with it, doing this had helped keep her sanity. Stretching what was left of her sandwich, she savored each bite. When she was finally done, she stood up.

Decision time. To take the bus or walk? The walk wasn’t so bad. She would be home in 30 minutes. That could be her exercise for the day. And most importantly, it would save her $2.25. But she was so tired, and it was so chilly. Tomorrow, she would walk. Promise.

Fanning her Ventra card, Maya waited for the 146. It was late. She leaned towards the road and strained to look for the bus. Nothing. Just then, someone rammed into her, driving her straight to the ground.

“Oww.”

Rubbing her back, she got to her feet. The culprit, an elderly gentleman, was struggling to get himself off the ground.

“Are you okay, sir?” Maya asked, helping him up.

The man quickly adjusted his scarf, concealing most of his face, except his wild eyes darting urgently all around them. What was it she saw in them? Fear?

His eyes landed on her Ventra card. “Please, let me borrow your card,” he wheezed.

“Sorry?”

“Your card!” he gestured to her hand. “I’ll bring it back to you.”

“But…”

He fished furiously in his pockets and produced something – a key.

“Here, you keep this,” he said, placing the small key in her hand and taking her Ventra card in one swift motion.

He turned around as if searching for something, someone, then flinched. His speech quickened.

“Listen to me. Go to the vault and get it out. Keep it safe with you, and I’ll come back for it. You can have one for your trouble. Okay?”

Maya stood there dumbfounded.

“Understand?” he barked.

When she didn’t answer, he opened his mouth, but suddenly his eyes widened. He took a few steps back. Maya saw the 146 approaching in-front of them. One last time, the man glanced behind him, then scurried off.

She watched as he got on the bus and found a window seat. The 146 rumbled, and the old man suddenly turned his head – his piercing blue eyes intently on her as the bus drove away.

Only once the marbles were no longer visible did Maya come to her senses. Someone must be following him. Why else would he be so on edge? She looked around but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. Okay then. What in the world just happened? She shook herself. This wasn’t one of her daydreams, was it?

The tiny metal pressing against her palms was the only proof that it wasn’t; that and her missing Ventra card. And she had just topped it up with $25 this morning! Ugghhh. It was okay - motivation for her to walk more. Just breathe. Besides, the man said he would bring it back, right? Oh, come on, who was she kidding? How would he ever find her? Then it struck her. Had she just been robbed in broad daylight? Should she report it?

What would she even say though? Apart from the crinkles around his eyes and a few aging spots, she didn’t remember anything. Not his clothes nor built. She had been pretty much transfixed on his eyes – striking blue glass-like eyes. That was a distinct feature. Would that be enough to find him? Nah. The Chicago P.D. had their hands full already, with the loots and everything going on. They weren’t going to entertain her with this.

Ah well, at least she had this. She inspected the key with a dry laugh. But when she flipped it, she saw a tiny piece of paper taped against it. In microscopic letters, it read:

Precious Securities

Vault 11

Wait. That man wasn’t serious, was he? She pulled out her phone and did a quick google search. Okayyy. So, the place did exist. 5766 N. Clark St, Lincoln Park, the address said. It would hardly be a detour on her way back home to Lakeview East. Should she go?

***

She did go. Curiosity got the best of her. What could she say? And now there she was in front of Vault 11 with the key in place. Click. She drew in a deep breath. Moment of truth. She pulled the door open, and inside, in all its glory was – a small black book. Whaaat? That was it? She crouched down to inspect the metallic box. Nothing else. Maybe something is hidden in the notebook? It looked brand new, and the cover felt soft against her hands. She ran her fingers across the elastic band then freed it. She flipped the pages, stopped for a few seconds to admire the satiny ribbon she came across, then gently shook it for good measure. Nothing. So much for a hundred sparkling diamonds. She stifled a laugh. A girl could dream.

What happened there? Did he give her the wrong key? She almost closed the vault with the notebook still in there but thought better of it. Might as well take it; she came all this way. It could be reimbursement for her card. She would never buy something as luxurious herself, but this could be the universe telling her that she deserved this. Tucking the notebook carefully in her backpack, she prepared for the short walk back home. She would take the scenic route along Lake Michigan. Just the thought of the glimmering water brought a smile to her face. Yes, it was windy, but she could brave it. It was worth the view.

Maya was walking towards the lakeshore when a harsh voice stopped her in her tracks.

“Go back to where you belong!”

She only saw a glimpse of a red hat as the car sped by.

“I am where I belong!” she yelled back. But it was too late.

Her parents had been from Kathmandu, but Maya had been born and raised in Chicago. She was proudly American. Her citizenship said so. And she was proudly Nepali. That was her heritage. What was wrong with that? She blinked away the blurriness in her eyes. She wouldn’t cry. Hot liquid streaked down her cheeks, and she blinked even more furiously. She wouldn’t cry.

***

As she settled in bed, Maya reached for her new notebook. It had been a while since she did her nightly journaling, but the fresh pages felt pleasantly inviting. Her usual journal entries were a little like everything in the kitchen sink, ebbing and flowing into each other — her to-do lists, deepest fears, darkest thoughts, wildest dreams, bright ideas, aspirations for herself and the world. But tonight, she would keep it positive. Stay away from the fears. Positivity and Productivity. That was her new mantra.

I want more kindness in the world. Leaders who unite, not divide. The man in the street, I wish he’s not hungry anymore. He should get the stimulus check too. I hope he has a way to file for it. I should look this up tomorrow. Stimulus for homeless people. I need fresh laundry. Oh, and I need some money, wouldn’t it be lovely if I had

Maya sat up with a start. He didn’t mean she could have a single page in the notebook, did he? The thought popped up so randomly in her head, it made her stop writing. That would be insane. But still, should she stick to a page for tonight? Now she was the one going insane. She shook her head and continued journaling.

***

Maya pulled a fresh t-shirt over her head and headed to the door. The knocking got progressively louder. Good thing her roommate, Rosie, was at her parents' house; otherwise, she would kill whoever was at the door for waking her up on the weekend.

“Coming!”

Must be the delivery person. She didn’t remember ordering anything that needed to be signed for. Maybe Rosie did?

She turned the latch and swung the door open. A man carrying a bagful of groceries greeted her.

“Is this for Rosie Green?” she asked.

“No, this is for you, Maya,” he replied.

“What? How…”

“I had this overwhelming urge to get this from the grocery store for you. Please tell me you didn’t waste the page on groceries.”

Maya froze. The man adjusted his hat, his striking eyes now clearly visible.

“Can I get my notebook back, please?”

Maya wordlessly fetched it and handed it over. The old man looked at ease today. He leisurely thumbed the notebook open and began reading her entry.

“Hey, it’s private,” she began saying, but a notification on her phone distracted her.

"A deposit of $20,000 has been made to your account."

How she wished! It must be one of those scam texts. Maya started looking up, but the newspaper headline on the floor caught her attention - ‘Biden-Harris Win!’

“Oh my god! Yes!” she shrieked, jumping up and down. “I was so ready for this!”

“Obviously,” he said, gesturing at her entry in the notebook.

What did he mean, 'obviously'? Wait a minute. Those were the exact grocery items she wanted. And this shirt! She hadn’t washed it, yet here it was, smelling of fresh flowers.

“What’s going on?” she finally asked, panic now setting in.

“The Manifest Notebook was stolen, you see. For 4 years, I searched. Finally, I found it two days ago. The things that filled it – horrible. I destroyed it, so a new one could be born.”

Maya still didn’t understand, but the old man continued.

“I see you’ve put it to good use, the first page. It’s time for me to retire. I’m tired. You should have it, be the new keeper.”

He placed the notebook in Maya’s hands, her Ventra card wedged inside it.

“It’s time a smart, young woman like you had power. I choose you!”

He started walking away.

Maya finally found her voice. “Wait! What do I do with it?”

“You change the world, child; one kind, bright idea at a time.”

With that, he disappeared.