A Lucky Sign

Jason eyed his third duffle skeptically. Two were already bursting at the seams with going-away presents and this last was approaching critical mass. He did not want to show up at his dorm with more bags than he could carry, especially since he was now out of real luggage.

“'Sup?”

Uncle Lee stood in the doorway. Jason gestured toward his bags. “Runnin' out of space.”

His uncle snickered. “Don't bring so many dirty magazines.”

“I didn't!” Jason scowled. “Everyone keeps giving me shit. I got a rice cooker, an iron, a laundry bag-stand-thing, a blanket, another blanket...” He shoved unpacked items around. “I got a door organizer, a closet organizer, a bedside organizer and no damn room.”

“You got more on the way,” his uncle advised. “And Gran made you another blanket.” Jason rolled his eyes and slumped against his bed while his uncle laughed. “You want the good news first, or the bad news?”

Jason shook his head. “Always take the bad news first.”

“I brought you presents.” Uncle Lee ducked away from Jason's glare, stepping into the hallway and back with a large bag and some sort of framework. He tossed the bag at Jason, quipping, “The good news is, it's another bag.”

The giant duffle contained a collection of cable ties, stick-up hooks, and bungees. “This thing's bigger'n all my bags put together!”

“Yeah, and you'll want this.” His uncle fiddled with the other item and then presented Jason with a tall, narrow dolly. “Collapsable wheels - priceless. And that's an army duffle. Last forever, even if you spill gasoline on 'em. Just strap it and your bags to this.”

Jason laughed. Of course Uncle Lee would be practical. “Thanks, Unc. This'll really make a difference. Wait... gasoline?”

“Nevermind. I also got you this.” He handed something to Jason. “Kind of a family tradition.”

It was another useful gift, small and black. “Sweet, I need notebooks,” Jason said appreciatively, examining it and recognizing the embossed logo. He noted the small ribbon bookmark. “Wow, this is nice.”

Uncle Lee snorted. “That's not a notebook, chucklehead. It's a Little Black Book. Absolutely essential for college.”

Jason was perplexed. It was obviously a little black book. “What?”

“Little Black Book,” his uncle repeated. “Time-honored storage for names, phone numbers, dorm rooms, and anything else that might help you keep track.”

Still lost, Jason prompted, “Keep track of... what?”

Uncle Lee blinked at him before realizing that Jason was honestly confused. “Girls, Jay! You write 'em down so you don't forget or lose their info. Look.”

Understanding broke over Jason as his uncle presented a second notebook. It was old but otherwise identical.

“Brought mine to show you. Pawpaw gave it to me. Gave one to your dad, too.” Flipping the pages, he displayed dozens of names and numbers in faded ink.

Sliding his back into his pocket, Uncle Lee mused, “Pretty sure your mom was 'Blonde Business Admin, Student Center Barista.'”

Jason gaped at him, knowing only that his parents had met in college. “No way.”

His uncle held up a solemn hand. “Strike me if I lie.”

“But why would I need this? Even if I talk to that many girls, why would I write them down in a – a Little Black Book?”

Sighing, Uncle Lee fixed him with a raised eyebrow. “You memorized the phone numbers of all your cousins? Both sides?”

“Ha!” Jason laughed. “Hell no!”

“Well, how else you gonna keep from losing all those new numbers?”

Grinning lopsidedly, Jason reached into his cargo pocket to show his uncle.

“Smartphone.”

~@~@~@~@~@~

It was Friday of his third week of college and Jason was not enjoying himself.

His electives were interesting, but core classes were core classes. The dry summer had been replaced by a rainy autumn that bordered on monsoon. He did not have girls falling all over him despite Uncle Lee's predictions. To top it all off, the dorm's lousy wiring had fried his charger and cable, so his phone was dead.

Leaving his last class of the day, Jason decided to slog over to the student store and hope they sold electronics. Taking a deep breath, he stepped out of the Information Sciences Building and crashed into both the torrential downpour and the outstretched arms of another pedestrian.

“Shit!” Jason caught himself against the banister as he slipped on the wet cement steps. The other victim caught themselves on the banister as well, hugging the railing. “Oh, wow, are you okay?”

There was no answer as the other person tried to regain their balance. It was a girl in leggings and hoodie, wearing sneakers that clearly lacked all-weather tread. He offered her his hand, asking again, louder, “Are you okay?”

The girl grunted as she slid again, then appeared surprised when she noticed his outstretched hand, as if she didn't know he was there. Jason realized that the lenses of her very large glasses were completely obscured by rainwater.

“Can I help you?” he yelled over the rain, but she just flailed and lost her balance yet again. “Well, hell,” he muttered. Stepping forward, he gripped her under both elbows and steadied her, then walked her slowly up the remaining few steps and through the ISB doors.

Finally out of the rain, the girl removed her glasses and shook them to get most of the water off. She smiled wearily at him. “Thanz.”

“Yeah, no problem,” Jason said, realizing why she hadn't responded to him earlier – she was an ESL student and probably couldn't understand him through the rain. “That was exciting, huh?” he asked, slowly and clearly.

She was staring at him strangely. “Zorree.” She looked like she wanted to say something else, but instead fumbled in the pouch of her hoodie. She pulled out a wallet and phone, both dripping with rain. After an unsuccessful attempt to wake her phone, she pointed to him and then to her phone with an inquisitive expression.

He shook his head. “Naw, mine's dead. Sorry. You need a ride? You live in the dorms?” Jason couldn't understand why she was so intense, her eyes following his face even as he glanced down the hallway. “Look... you want me to find a professor?”

“Oh! Zorree,” the girl repeated, smacking her forehead with the palm of her hand. She pushed her hood away from dark hair that was cut into a sharp A-line, revealing a hearing aid.

Jason was, he decided, an idiot.

“Of course,” he muttered. “You need... something to write on?” He mimicked a writing motion as if on the palm of his hand and her face lit up.

“Yez! Bleez!”

Jason quickly peeled off his backpack and unzipped it, reaching inside for a notebook which, he remembered belatedly, he hadn't brought with him. His Information Sciences notes were all computer-based. He only had books and his laptop.

He searched his bag, trying to think. Just as he decided to go all-out and use his laptop, his hand slipped inside the bag's tablet pocket. He did not own a tablet, but he did own a small black notebook.

Grabbing a pen, he quickly jotted, I'm Jason. RU OK? Can I help? on the first line.

Reading quickly, the girl accepted his pen and wrote, I'm Annie. THX. I'm OK. Need to text.

Jason scratched out, Email OK? Have laptop + wifi.

Annie nodded enthusiastically. In moments, both were seated cross-legged on the tiles, ignoring the puddles they left as Jason booted up and then placed his laptop in Annie's lap. She quickly sent a short email that received an almost immediate reply. A few minutes and several messages later, Annie wrote again in the notebook, Ride OTW. U want a lift home?

THX, no. Hdg to Stdt Store.

She glanced at the pouring rain, then raised an eyebrow. WHY???

Jason laughed. Need phone charger.

Annie pursed her lips and held up her dead and dripping phone. Need phone. Come with.

When Annie's “ride” arrived – a private, chauffeured town car - Jason wondered what he had gotten into.

The driver first delivered them to the largest electronics outlet in town, where they dripped significantly on the industrial floors. Within minutes and before Jason could stop her, Annie was swiping a solid metal credit card for a new phone and the charging kit Jason had selected. When he protested, she ostensibly couldn't understand him.

Their second stop was a restaurant where they were escorted to a waiting man who looked very much like Annie and turned out to be her uncle.

He and Annie signed back and forth at lightning speeds while their food was ordered and delivered. Her uncle paused frequently to read and answer text messages, apparently relaying her communication to another party. After several minutes, Annie handed something to her Uncle and Jason was startled to realize it was his notebook.

Annie's uncle flipped through the notebook, examined the back cover, then handed it back to Annie. “Little Black Book, eh?” he inquired, meeting Jason's eyes.

Jason gulped, wondering if Annie's uncle's concept of a Little Black Book was the same as Uncle Lee's. “It was a gift.”

“Hm.” A buzz vibrated the table. “Excuse me,” the man said as he picked up his phone. He typed, waited, and typed some more.

Jason saw that Annie was writing in the notebook. He was about to ask for it in order to inquire what was going on when her uncle put down his phone, flipped a business card out of his front pocket, and handed it to Jason.

“Gerald Kim,” he introduced himself, signing while he spoke for Annie's benefit. “Short story: Annie's father owns the company that makes those notebooks and I own the advertising for them, among other things. Annie is interning for me.”

Jason mulled this over as Mr. Kim continued. “Bottom line up front: Her dad and I want to buy your story – how you met Annie just now – for advertising. It's a flat twenty thousand dollars. I can transfer the money with a handshake and email you everything you need for records and taxes within five business days.”

“W-wow – okay – what – WHAT?” Jason stuttered. “You want... I was just helping... did you say twenty thousand?”

“There's a lot of money in advertising and we're not small companies,” Mr. Kim said with a knowing smile. “Good ideas are hard to come by. Besides, our primary demographics usually appreciate a cute story, especially if it's a little romantic. It was Annie's idea.”

Startled, Jason glanced at Annie, who pointedly concentrated on her coffee. “Wow,” he repeated. “In that case... I mean, sure. You don't run into twenty thousand dollars worth of lucky in the rain every day, huh?”

Mr. Kim smiled and reached across the table to shake Jason's hand.

~@~@~@~@~@~

Returned to his dorm, Jason copied Annie's signs for “thank you” and “good evening,” earning a bright smile from her before the town car drove off.

Finally in his own room, he peeled away his still-damp jeans and emptied his pockets. Flabbergasted, he sat on his bed and contemplated the little black book, wondering how to explain to Uncle Lee that he'd spent a whole evening with a girl who had literally fallen into his arms and ended up with twenty thousand dollars but without her phone number.

“I'll never hear the end of it,” he grumbled, tugging on the pagemark ribbon.

The notebook fell open and Jason found himself grinning as he read the last entry. It was a phone number, followed by Annie Kim – text me! <3