Tea, Cereal, and a Hot Dog Cart

I pulled the frayed blanket tighter around my shoulders, cursing the combination of frigid November storms and an apartment with a broken heater. I looked at the tea that I had already forgotten and reheated three times since this morning, trying to decide if having hot tea was worth emerging from my blanket cocoon. With a heavy sigh, I braced myself and stood, my knees cracking from the change in position as I escorted my tea to the microwave once again.

My eyes scrunched, trying to adjust to the darkness after staring at the computer screen for so long. A second after starting the microwave my stomach gurgled so I turned around the cramped kitchen, figuring I’d save myself another trip from my warm nest. The fridge was empty besides some ketchup, soy sauce, and milk so I tried the cupboard. Scouring the contents, I discovered an unopened box of chocolate- o's cereal. I grabbed it eagerly and pulled the milk from the fridge, checking the expiration date; it was only three days past. I retrieved the last clean cup in the dishwasher and retreated to my blanket with my haul. I scanned the cereal box, the same cereal I had eaten since I was a young girl. The brand had a new mascot -it looked like an attempt at an elf- and there was an announcement on the box of a mystery prize included. I didn’t think cereals had those prizes anymore. I felt my mouth lift a little- hoping it would be a whistle like the one I got when I was seven- and plunged my hand into the cereal, fishing around for the toy. I didn’t feel anything. I checked outside the plastic and the wall of the box until my hand grazed something smooth. I ripped it out, causing an eruption of chocolate- o's onto my keyboard and lap. I sighed, sure that the trinket wasn’t worth the mess.

I inspected the prize; it was a small black notebook. Usually, cereal prizes were something you could buy at a dollar store, but this was well-made with a sturdy cover and rounded edges. It must have been worth at least five times what the box of cereal cost. It didn’t look new though, the edges were bent and the sown spine had light wear. I flipped it open, expecting it to be blank, but it had tiny scribbled names and addresses. They were all written in different penmanship -as if there had been multiple writers- and next to the names in a neat column of its own, were numbers. Not just numbers, they were amounts listed by the names, and all in the thousands. I thought maybe it was a hit list.

Excitement coursed through me for the first time in months as I haphazardly swiped the cereal from my keyboard and brought up the search engine. I flipped to the first page of the tiny book and scanned the page for more info, but found none. I turned to the last name, the one that looked the most recent. ‘William Kebner, 334 Olive Street Seattle’ I whispered to myself as I pecked at the keys, hoping I would find a match- or an obituary- as I pressed enter. Dr. William Kebner, I looked at the picture of the middle-aged man, his hair was a vibrant orange and stuck out from his round head- as if it was electrified. His wide nose held up thin glasses, and his huge smile felt genuine, even in a picture. I clicked on the link to his credentials. He graduated medical school two years ago at the age of forty-eight, lived in a modest house, and had a wife but no children. That was all I could see from a quick search, but it was enough to prove that the twenty thousand dollars next to his name wasn’t for his murder. I sat back from the computer, releasing a sigh. A single thought on repeat in my mind, what could the numbers mean?

I looked at the address again, it was only a few blocks away from my apartment. I started to bounce my foot as I considered my options. I knew the best way to get answers was to go to the source, and it would be impossible to focus on anything else if I left this notebook’s mystery unsolved. I typed in the password to check my bank account, craving a hot dog from the cart down the street, but the negative in front of the tiny balance squashed the newly formed hope. I turned on the couch cushions, disheveling them in my hunt for loose change, but I found only fruit snack wrappers and a few bobby pins. With a long sigh, I grabbed the notebook and donned my raincoat and boots.

I stepped onto the sidewalk, grateful that the downpour from earlier had lightened to a tolerable drizzle as I stomped through the puddles of rainwater polluted with oil slick and trash, thinking about what I would say to William. Would he even know about the black notebook that was tucked into my jacket pocket? The cars raced past me, the drivers carrying on their lives without the intrusive thoughts of a black notebook. I heard the familiar sounds of the city around me: brakes, car horns, high heels, and talking. I walked faster, almost to the point of a jog. The smell of the hotdogs reminded me of my negative balance and I breathed through my mouth to avoid it, determined to discover what the twenty thousand dollars next to William's name meant. One block away, I looked for the house I saw online. When I was close, I stopped to check the notebook again, forcing the pedestrians to flow around me. The name, address, and amount were the same, but there was a new number- 1109- on the far-right margin. “That’s not possible,” I said to myself, my voice cracking from disuse. I closed the notebook and opened it again- sure that I must be seeing things- but the small 1109 was still there.

I stared at the tiny number, trying to figure out what it meant and how it got there. A small orange blur appeared in my peripheral vision and my eyes flitted from the notebook. It was William's orange hair. He was walking down the steps of his house, but something was wrong. He swayed and stumbled, trying to right himself. I watched as he weaved his way over to the street, assuming he was trying to catch a cab. I saw the perfect opportunity to talk to him and ran over- hoping to get to him before a cab did- but he didn’t stop at the curb. Right as I got to him, he stepped into the busy street.

In that instant, my first thought was a dark one -almost unmentionable- that maybe the twenty thousand dollars was to kill him, and if a car did it I could claim the cash. I pushed the thought away. I knew that a person’s life was worth more than that, no matter how desperate the need for money. The first car saw him in time and stopped, but William kept walking. He didn’t seem to know where he was, as if he was in a trance. I leaped into the street and grabbed him, pulling him back with all my strength as the car in the second lane sped past the spot where he had been a second ago. I fell back with him lying next to me in front of the stopped car. The driver laid on the horn, impatient and unaffected by the heroic save. I did it. I saved him.

I laid there for a moment to catch my breath, my heart bursting from adrenaline and my hair sticking to the asphalt. William looked over at me-his eyes red and watery- and mouthed words he couldn’t fully form. I stood up, peeling my clothes from the wet ground, and offered him my hand. He took it, and we hobbled to the safety of the sidewalk.

William broke the silence first, “Thank you,” he said after clearing his throat. “I don’t know what happened to me. One minute I was eating lunch and the next you were pulling me out of the street.”

He shook his head in silence and I realized he wouldn't say anything else, it was my turn to speak.

“You're welcome,” I answered, unsure if I should mention the notebook to this man so soon after he nearly died, but the curiosity was gnawing at me. I took the notebook out of my jacket; thankful I hadn't lost it in the road.

“Do you know what this is?” I asked quietly, holding up the black notebook.

“It’s a black book.” He raised his thick eyebrows, “I almost died, but I’m not stupid,” he replied.

I started laughing. I tried to just let out a small chuckle, but something about his answer and the scenario made me hysterical. I hadn’t laughed like that in so long, and once I started, I couldn’t stop- it was addictive. Tears started to form and the blurry people around us stared, but I kept laughing. William smiled too, and let out a small laugh of his own. Minutes later, I composed myself, but a smile was stuck on my face.

“I’m sorry. I meant, is this your notebook?” I reluctantly handed it over for him to inspect.

He opened it gingerly, “No, I’ve never seen it before,” he said as he handed it back to me.

“It has your name and address in it. That’s why I was here. I thought maybe I could return it to you or you could tell me what it is.”

He looked at me confused and shook his head before responding, "I think maybe we should get you to a doctor, you might’ve hit your head and I’m in no condition to treat you.”

“I didn’t hit my head, I didn’t get hurt at all.”

“What’s your name?” He asked, looking into my eyes for signs of brain damage like doctors did in movies.

“Tara Davison,” I replied, alarmed at his sudden concern.

“What is today's date?” He asked, still questioning my mental state.

“It's November ninth.”

William sat back, “Well Tara, I’m not sure what’s wrong with you, but that notebook is blank.”

I jumped in surprise and opened the notebook to the first page, then the second. All of the names and addresses were gone. He was right, there wasn’t a mark on it. The pages were crisp and new, and the binding was stiff. This was a brand-new notebook. I gasped, closing and opening the notebook, but nothing changed.

After being cleared at the hospital, I went back to my apartment. The once-familiar space suddenly felt foreign and strange. It was too dark in here, too cold. The rainstorm was over, so I threw open the dark curtains- releasing a cloud of cat hair and dust- and let the fresh sunlight in. I saw the cup of now-cold tea that I had forgotten again and stood over my laptop, motioning it awake. My bank’s homepage was open but I had been logged off for inactivity. I typed in my username and password, trying to keep myself from hoping. The screen loaded, and I couldn’t decide whether to scream or cry when I saw the balance of twenty thousand dollars. So, I did both.