The Name Book

The Cool Bean Coffee Company Shop smelled of slightly burnt coffee, over ripe bananas, and latte foam. The clicks and whirs of artisanal coffee creation filled the air and were blended with the chit chat of the mom group sitting on the back corner couches and the ticking of keyboards. It had been a busy morning for a Tuesday and it took all three team members working together to get through the before work crowd. Now that there was a lull, Bethany Ramble grabbed the sanitizer spray and a dishcloth to clean up the few tables deserted by guests before the next wave of patrons came through.

Bethany headed to the empty booth first. A booth was hot real estate in the coffee shop world and took priority over the two dirty round tables in the middle of the room. Once she was standing in front of the light wooden table top, she noticed a “for here” cup of black coffee that looked untouched in its white cup and saucer. Sitting alongside it was a little black notebook. She grabbed the book first, drawn to it magnetically, she quickly forgot about the task she came to do. It was one of those stylish, sleek, leather bound black notebooks that you find near the registers at bookstores. It was about five and a half inches high, 3 and a half inches across, and kept closed by a black elastic band. The book looked brand new, the jacket was a pristine, shiny black and there were no cracks down the spine.

Bethany looked up and swiveled her head back and forth to see if she could see who the book belonged to. She went over to booth number one to ask the two business people sitting there if they had seen who had sat behind them. They said they didn’t notice who had sat in the other booth.

“Hey, guys,” Bethany called out to her coworkers, “Do you remember who ordered the black coffee 'for here' this morning?”

“Um, no, we were so busy this morning I can’t remember," Aaron replied, "Why do you ask?”

“Whoever it was, they left this black notebook,” she held up the book to show Aaron then turned her attention to the counter, “Elise? Do you remember someone ordering a 'for here' black coffee and sitting in booth two?”

Elise popped her head up from looking in the cupboard beneath the cash register and studied the book for a second,”I remember seeing someone sitting over there in a black suit, but that’s about it. Is there a name inside?”

“I haven’t checked yet,” said Bethany, “Let me see.”

Bethany pulled the black elastic tie from around the book and pulled it open to the first page with the box that says “belongs to” and saw that no one had written in it. Then, she turned to the first note page and saw it was completely filled with signatures. Each line had a unique signature written in the darkest of black inks. She flipped through the next few pages and saw they too were full of signatures from different people.

“I didn’t find a name of who it belongs to, but take a look at this,” Bethany said as she walked over to the counter.

“Weird!” Elise broke the silence of the group investigation, “Why would someone have an autograph book these days?” She seemed disgusted by the very notion of the old fashioned practice.

“I don’t think that’s what it is. I didn’t recognize any of the names in there and each one was signed in that same black ink. If signatures are taken at different times, wouldn’t a different pen have been used?” Bethany asked more in outward rumination than conversation.

“Whatever it is, it belongs in the lost and found,” Aaron said as a way to end and dismiss the discussion.

“You’re right, Aaron. If you guys don’t mind, I’ll take my first break now and drop it into the bin,” Bethany said and waited a beat for the other two to give her the go ahead.

Neither Aaron nor Elise said they would mind if she took her break, so she headed to the break/stockroom of the coffee shop. Before pulling the notebook out of her pocket, she peaked through the window in the black door to ensure her coworkers had gone back to their front of house tasks. After that was confirmed, she felt secure in the knowledge that she would have at least 5 minutes to herself to look a little further into the book mystery.

Bethany quickly flipped through the book to see if there were any other pages with writing on them and then she noticed a folded piece of paper sitting on the table that had fallen out mid flip. But, it wasn’t just a piece of paper, it was a check. She could tell by the endorsement line on the side of the paper facing up at her. She unfolded the check and saw it was for $20,000 and the “To” section had her name, Bethany Ramble, written in it. Her eyes moved to the signature line and she could tell someone had signed it, but when she tried to read it she felt like a fog had moved into her mind and she couldn’t make out the name.

Who was it that sat in that booth? And why would they leave behind a book with a $20,000 check written out to her?

She needed the money. She had finally graduated from the The Art Institute of Portland in June, but after the stock market crash last fall all the graphic design jobs had dried up. Really all the jobs worth having had dried up. Even the company she had interned with during her senior year had said they just couldn’t afford to hire her in the current economy. If she heard someone say “in this economy” one more time she would tear all her hair out.

The money she earned from working at the coffee shop made it so she could live in a 2 bedroom apartment with 4 single roommates. One of the roommates slept in a closet. She rode public transportation, brought home day old pastries from the coffee shop, and was thinking of getting a second job to afford to pay her student loans and keep a roof over her head after the 6 month post graduation deferment ended.

Her parents had asked if she wanted to come back home and stay with them until the job market got a little better. But, she knew she couldn’t. Moving back to her small eastern Oregon hometown would be admitting she had failed to accomplish her dream of being a designer who could climb up the next rung of the social ladder. She had a glimpse of the life she wanted in school and couldn’t go back to the life that would wait for her in her hometown. The check wouldn’t pay off her debts, but it she would have nearly an extra year's pay in her back pocket. She would have a little cushion while she kept looking for her real job.

Part of her knew there was something off with a stranger coming into the shop where she worked and leaving a book with a check for $20,000 written out to her. But, something else came into her mind and hushed any logical thoughts or hesitations. The volume turned down on her inner dialogue when she tried to question the book's purpose and the check’s origin. Like the fog that filled her brain when she tried to make out the signature of the check writer, this hushing was not from her. Her foot was firmly in the teeth of the trap now and this situation was only going to end one way.

Bethany refolded the check, put it in her pocket, and tossed the notebook into the lost and found bin on the shelf by the door. She then opened her locker and grabbed her coat and bag before heading out to the front of the shop. She walked over to Aaron who was stacking paper to go cups by the register.

"Hey, I'm not feeling well all of a sudden. I think I’ll have to go home,” she said as she hoped she was conveying just enough discomfort in her facial expression.

Aaron looked at her incredulously, “Sure, Bethany. Feel better soon. We can handle it,” he said and then he shot a look over at Elise.

She gave her thanks and expressed half heartedly that she hoped to return tomorrow before walking out the front door of the coffee shop. She could feel Aaron and Elise’s eyes burning into her back, but she didn’t care. In a matter of minutes, she would have $20,000 dollars in her bank account and it was only a matter of time before she landed the job of her dreams. Seeing an opening in traffic, she swiftly crossed the street, hopped onto the sidewalk, and opened one of the heavy glass doors to the bank.

Bethany walked over to the free standing counter with pens and bank deposit slips to endorse the check. She pulled the folded check from her pocket and straightened it out. Yep, it still said her name. She flipped it over and signed her signature on the back. She saw that a teller was free and quickly headed over to the counter in front of the young man and he gave her a smile and the usual customer service greetings. She smiled back as she presented the check to him, he took it, looked at it and then looked back at Bethany. The teller did this a couple of times and then paused for a moment while staring at the check.

Bethany swallowed hard, “Is there a problem?” she asked, trying her best to keep the tremble out of her voice. She waited for his response and tried not to imagine being arrested for fraud.

The teller was looking down at the check with a look of anguish. He opened his mouth and then closed it a couple of times. After staring at the check a little longer he took a deep breath and said, “Um, no. No problem at all." He gave her a weak smile and cleared his throat, "Would you like this in checking or savings?”

With the check deposited into her bank account, she could hardly keep herself from dancing to the door and out into the street. She managed to keep it down to a bounce in her step until she felt a pang in her chest just a couple doors down from the bank. She stopped and clutched at her breast while trying to take deep breaths. Then a big pain hit that felt like a large hand gripping its fingers tightly around her heart.

Bethany fell onto the sidewalk, gasping for air and pressing a hand on her chest. She was panicking and looking around hoping someone, anyone would see her and help. She happened to fall outside of a bakery and soon several patrons and the bakery employees came out to see what was the matter. But it was too late. She was gone.

Across the street, the bell on the door chimed as a man in a black suit came into the Cool Bean Coffee Company. He walked over to the register and looked over at Aaron, who was cleaning the espresso machine.

Aaron looked up, “Hi, How can I help you?”

The man spoke in a deep, cool voice, “I seemed to have left something here this morning. It was a little black book.”