Little Black Book

I rush out of my back door. It’s a cold, winter’s day. I’m running late for work, as usual. I grip the sides of the stairs as I descend the icy steps, watching my step as my feet slightly slip and my head buzzes, anticipating the needs of the day. I get to the bottom of the wooden stairs, the sun lightly shining on me. I’m unlocking my bike chain, when out of the corner of my eye, I see a little black notebook sitting in the side of my backyard. I don’t think much of it, it’s not mine, so I don’t grab it. I unlock my bike, and head to work.

The day goes by pretty quickly. It’s just one of those routine, forgettable days. I wait for the customers at the cookie shop, doing homework assignments in between. At the end of the day, I lock up, hop on my bike, and weather the cold and windy air, that bites at my cheeks and fingers. I forgot my gloves.

When I get to my backyard, it’s dark out now. I’m locking up my bike, when I notice again that little black notebook. I have time now, so I walk over and stare at it for a second. It’s small, its exterior seems to be cloth, not plastic or leather. I bend over, pick it up. My fingers are freezing, and are partially numb as I open the book. My eyes grow wide for a second, then my expression clears. This could be a practical joke. I put the notebook under my arm, and climb the stairs to my apartment.

I get inside, throw the notebook on my desk, and sit on my bed with my hands under my bum. I take a few deep breaths as the warmth is restored to my fingers. I look over at my desk, and grab the notebook. I open its contents as I head to the fridge for some juice.

$20,000 IS YOURS! It reads in big letters at the top of the first page. I flip to the next page, and crook my neck at what I see.

CHECK YOUR BANK ACCOUNT. Without thinking, I grab my phone. With the notebook in my left hand, my smartphone in the right, I open my banking app. To my astonishment, I see a deposit, of $20,000. I gasp, dropping my phone and notebook. I stand there stunned, kind of staring off into nothing. Something pulls me back into reality after some handsome seconds, and I quickly grab my phone. This has to be a joke, I think, but as I reopen my banking app, I still see the twenty thousand dollars there. I lay my phone on the stove and pick up the notebook. I turn to the next page; it reads

SURPRISED? DON’T BE. THIS ISN’T A JOKE.

HA! I scream. What is this, a mind reader notebook? That gives people mysterious money? I flip through the pages, and to my surprise, I see a bunch of… names. Name after name. Hathor. Imhoptep. Sobek. Qing Shi. Adonis. Victoria. Charles. Edward. It seems the names at the beginning belonged to people from a long time ago, but as I turn the page, they sound more and more modern. What is this notebook...?

I grab the apple juice out of the fridge. My hands are shaking a bit, but I grab the notebook and head to my desk. My heart is pounding in my chest as I continue going through the pages. There has to be thousands of names in here. Why are they written here? And where did this money come from? Or the notebook?

I open my bank account again, the numbers staring back at me. There’s no name of who sent me the money. Just a dash mark. I call up my friend Robert, and tell him to come over, quickly. I hop in the shower as I wait for him, and as I’m stepping out I hear his knock on the door. I throw on my robe, and go greet him.

“Thanks for coming, you’re never going to believe this,” I say.

“Yeah, your texts were kind of weird. What is this notebook exactly?” I show him, my eyes glued on his face as he reads the notebook. He has a stoic look, but once he flips through the pages, his eyebrows raise.

“What the hell?” He says.

“I know, right!” I reply, “You brought your computer, right?”

“Yeah,” he responds, his voice wavering.

“Will you scan the pages and see how many names are in there?”

“Sure.”

I go get him a Coke Zero from the fridge as he starts to scan the pages. I’m sitting on my bed, wondering what I’m going to do with this money.

“Yep.” He says, standing up. He turns to me, pointing his finger at the screen. “20,000 names.”

“Holy…” I say as I rise and look at the screen. Sure enough, there are 20,000 names in the book. “So you think, I mean… There has…” my words are fumbled, “There must have been 20,000 others who have received this notebook?”

“Do you think it started out with a dollar, and went up to 20,000?” He asks, laughing. A laugh sneaks out of me, too, as I put my hands in the air and shrug. He picks up the notebook and sorts through the pages.

“Uh oh,” he says. I look up at him, and he points at a page in the back of the book, and raises it to my eyes.

IF YOU SPEND THIS MONEY, YOU WILL DIE AFTER THE LAST DOLLAR IS SPENT. IF YOU CHOOSE NOT TO SPEND THE MONEY, YOU AND EVERYONE CLOSE TO YOU WILL BE CURSED TO LIVE IN POVERTY FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIVES.

“WHAT THE??????” I exclaim. “This can’t be true! This has to be a joke!” I step back, pacing the room now with anxiety. “This book is cursed????” I look up to Robert only to see him staring at the floor with concern. We discuss if it could all be made up, but I show him the $20,000 in my account, which settles the matter. He stays with me for a bit as I calm down, then I escort him out so I can sleep. I stare at the ceiling, wondering what the hell I’m going to do, as I drift off into sleep.

I’m having a terrible nightmare, some ghoul provoking me. Will you fail your family? It asks, taunting me with a devilish grin. No! I scream, but I’m falling backwards, grasping at the empty air. The demon cackles with laughter as I hear a loud strike of thunder and I’m jolted awake. Sweaty and panting, I look over at the notebook on the desk. I consider throwing it away, or burning it, but I don’t want to anger the demon. I lie back down, my breathing slows, and somehow I manage to fall back asleep.

My dream is lighter. Very light, in fact, as I’m surrounded in white light. I see my mother, who died when I was much younger. She’s reaching out to me, speaking. I try to get closer to her, but she starts to fade as I hear the words It will be okay, son. Do as it asks.

“Mom, wait!” I yell, but as I reach her, she disappears. I gasp and awake, the sun shining through the window, I hear a couple of birds chirping. I feel groggy, but I rise out of bed and grab the notebook as I head for the toilet. I sit there, flipping through the pages. Grimacing, I wonder why in the heck I’m the one who was chosen for this. Should I get a Ouija board, and try to contact the people in this notebook? I’m thinking about seances and if I know any witches when my thoughts are interrupted by the phone ringing. I get off the toilet and grab my phone from my bedroom. It’s my sister. She doesn’t usually call, but texts, so this is strange.

“Hello?” I answer, I hear crying. “Is everything okay Serena?”

“I just lost my job,” she says, her voice muffled and quivering from the tears.

“Oh no, what happened?” I ask, my heart starts racing, and a frown shows itself across my face. I avert my gaze over to the notebook when she describes the events of the morning.

“I don’t know what it was but I was at my job waitressing for brunch when I dropped a whole platter of plates on a customer and a freak accident happened and a fork went up someone’s nose and now there’s probably a lawsuit and my boss said he had to let me go and” her voice trails off as my mind and everything else starts to blur. I feel myself starting to pass out as her loud wail snaps me back in place.

I remain silent as she continues to talk and cry, and eventually she sniffs and says “ Well I guess I’ll let you go, sniff sniff, Oh what am I gonna do!” She yells and hangs up the phone.

I meander over to my bed and lie on my back, staring up. I probably do that for a good fifteen or thirty minutes, before I get a rush of energy. Time is ticking, who knows what else could happen if I don’t act. I stumble over to my desk, grab my phone and look up my sister’s apartment complex. I call, and ask if I can pay her rent for the rest of her lease. I give them some information to confirm I’m her brother, my bank info, etc, and it’s done. I’ve just paid her rent for the rest of the year. That should qualm some of her nerves about losing her job. I call the local homeless shelter after that, and donate a few thousand dollars over the phone. They’re so thankful, ask me for my name and whatnot so they can honor me in some way. Don’t worry about it, I say, and I remain anonymous. After I hang up, I hop in the shower. A shower always helps calm me down and soothe my nerves. I take my time, as I know this is likely the last shower I will ever take. I scrub my legs with an exfoliant, softly rub my face with the new cleanser I just bought a few days prior.

I take a deep breath, and as I’m stepping out, I hear the phone ring. It’s my sister.

“Oh you’ll never believe this!” She yells, sounding hysterical, “I might have my job back!” my eyes widen as I wait for her to continue. “The man who the fork went up the nose was talking with my boss and he won’t sue after all and my friend Alyssa told me she might be able to sweet talk him into getting my job back!”

“Oh, that’s great” I respond. She screams in enjoyment and we hang up.

I wonder over to my bed, a smile creeping its way across my face. I’m glad to hear my sister is happy. I open up my laptop and go to Versace’s website. I scroll through the clothes as I spot the fine, signature navy blue silk shirt. Robert’s dream shirt. I select his size, then complete the purchase. The last of the money, just spent. It should arrive at his house in a week.

I close my laptop and lie back. My mind is a haze of designer clothing, homeless people, and forks up noses. I start to drift off as I hear my mother’s faint voice, calling out to me.