Bet it All on Black

Henry Kline wasn’t sure what to make of a notebook falling from the sky and hitting him on the head, like a brick. Especially since there was no place for it to fall from. No third-story addition added to his home in the middle of the night. Nor distant skyscraper, nor mischievous crow fooling with some poor human who was now rummaging through desk drawers trying to remember where they put their balance book.

Nothing peculiar, besides that Little Black Notebook that was filled with some mysterious mass.

What they hell could it be? He thought, as he started to peel off the 42 rubber bands that securely binded the confusing mass together. A ridiculously conspicuous bookmark? An actual brick? Or- “Twenty Thousand Dollars!” Mr. Kline yelled out as he finally finished counting.

Jane and John, the next door neighbors, abruptly stopped their bush trimming, locking eyes with him.

“I..I just wish I had twenty thousand dollars! You know! The garage needs a complete overhaul-no more overtime at work-pools costing me a fortune…” Henry trailed off, completely disregarding his neighbor’s curiosity as rushed inside the house.

He flipped through the pages to find some kind of answer. He dreaded finding a return address, which would of course, caused him to feel some guilt for pocketing the cash. But after forty-two blank pages he found-

“Fill up the car Henry, we’re going on a little ride.”

Henry spun around looking for someone. His wife, a camera crew, the psycho killer with a knife....

But nothing.

He threw down the notebook and ran out the front door, looking for a bird, or a plane, or Super-no. There had to be a logical answer.

Maybe it was forty-two...

Once again, Jane and John stopped pruning, this time offering quirky smiles as to not spook the strange animal. “You alright Henry?” Jane said like she did with the anxious little children in her 3rd grade classroom.

Henry cut away from looking like he had found Jesus to cover up a lie with another lie.

“You didn’t hear that?” Henry said with an incredible acting skill.

“Hear what?” John said, bewildered.

“The boom!” Henry said with giant eyes.

“The boom?” Jane and John said at once.

“Must have been the damned squirrel again.” Henry said with conviction and condemnation for a squirrel that did not exist, as he walked back in the house mumbling nonsense and looking back for one more glimpse of God.

“Hurry up, we’re on a tight schedule. Call the office and let them know you’ll need a week off.” The Little Black Book demanded.

Henry was the lead accountant at a fancy firm in Downtown D.C. They’d be pissed, but honestly, they couldn’t really say much considering he’d take half their rolodex with him.

But the idea jumping in the car and following the instructions of a notebook that fell from the sky seemed unorthodox, even blasphemous to the established order. People would talk, wonder, whisper, conspire, dig, dissect, check all of his most recent social media posts. It would be a hell totally unfitting for his secure, quiet, and completely structured life. A life as tight and clean as his cash ledgers. A beautiful wife, perfect house in Spring Valley, two beautiful kids and… his wife! She’d surely think he’d run off with the intern.

“Terrence Mckenna once said, this is how magic is done. By hurling yourself into the abyss and discovering it's a feather bed.

Great fortune awaits you, far greater than anything that could fit in this notebook. If you’d only take the leap... We’re going to Sedona.” The LBB explained

Henry put on his coat, bewitched by the impossible circumstances of an otherwise standard Monday morning. He couldn’t resist whatever was happening. A fortune that eclipsed 20k in cold hard cash? Henry was having a religious experience.

...

The drive took two days. It was the worse hell of Henry’s middle-aged life. The little black book was demanding. And cruel.

“No gas station pizza, no designer coffee, no Xanax, no cigarettes.” LBB said, amongst many other strange things.

None of it made sense in it’s parts. But something began to coalesce in its unified babel as Henry rode through the twilight darkness of the Four Corners. After the migraines and shakes and ranting and screaming and crying and steering wheel fist fights... came something so visceral. Something too real for his numbed existence. It was almost too much to bear. But bear it he did. Because “Great fortune awaited him.” Far greater than the $20,000 he already had in his possession. He was given coordinates in latitude and longitude, to a completely human-less stretch of cold desert.

But really, who would want to kill me? And why so far away? Cutting my breaks would’ve been much easier, he thought, creating as many reasons as he could for why he wouldn’t be dead in a ditch tomorrow morning. But when he shined his flashlight on a perfectly placed sleeping and a jug of water, a strange ease came over him that he didn’t understand, yet graciously accepted.

It was the strangest night of his life. Sober and alone, dazed and confused, under the forgotten splendor of the cosmos, he began the largest section of the Little Black Book named, “The Gospels.”

Henry was not a big fan of the politics of the day. As a white man, he found the new age “woke” movement distasteful at best. Slavery was over, MLK Jr. had his Million Man March, all was well and equal. What were black people still upset about?

It turns out, they were upset about the Panther 21, the tragedy of Black Wall Street, the single mother rates of black Americans brought on by malicious government policy, the Tuskegee Syphilis Study and so many more horrors that lived and died without him or any other white suburban ever knowing. And yet, they were still echoing through history, as loud as ever in the hearts and minds of Black America.

He wasn’t sure why he was receiving this lesson at all and what it had to do with the fortune he would receive when his journey was complete, but he read on, absolutely engulfed in a fascinating yet tragic story of his shared history with a silenced people.

When he was finished, Henry Kline hopped as deep as he could into his sleeping bag and fell asleep to the wonder of the cosmos and a heavy heart for an entire race of people he felt completely disconnected from.

...

The second to last stop before receiving his grand reward was the last place he’d ever expected he would be; West Baltimore.

He was terrified and knew for sure that the little black book had done all this to kill him. The black history lesson was simply a taunt. Revenge of some sort from the cosmic order.

And his only protection was the following instructions;

“If anyone asks what you’re doing here, tell them: ‘I’m doing whatever I can to help impoverished black communities.”

“Hey Whitey! What’s someone like you doing on the west side?” a young man yelled from down the block. That was quick. Henry thought.

“Oh no I’m sorry, I’m...I’m a…”

The young man tilted his head slightly as he approached Henry.

“Doing whatever I can to help impoverished black communities” Henry winced as the words fell out of his mouth.

The young man’s suspicion turned to mild confusion, which then turned to a cautious friendliness.

“Oh...cool.” The young man said, still taken aback. “Like what?”

“Uh...well-what do you need?” Henry asked.

“Me. Well... I need a nice job? And some fresh suits... I’m real good with numbers. But I never got any college.... I’m good though.”

The young man was surprisingly open to him. Henry felt as though he finally knew what it meant to be ‘one of the homies’.

“What’s your name?” Henry said, feeling a little cooler than before.

“Terence.”

“Terence, here’s my card, I work as an accountant in D.C. The address is on there.

Come see me Monday-” He trailed off as he looked in the notebook for the next set of instructions.

“Give Terence $1000 for suits.” The Little Black Book said. Henry pulled out a small wad of cash and started counting off. Terrence’s eyes widened as his head jerked this way and that to make sure no one was watching.

“And here’s... a thousand for the suits.”

“...Are you a Youtuber or something?” Terence said as he reluctantly took the money.

“I have no idea what’s going on right now.”

“Alright... bet.” Terence said with a smirk, “See you Monday… Whitey.”

Henry chuckled. “See you then.”

He spent the rest of the day “Exercising his privilege to help his fellow man,” (as the Little Black Book explained) until he was left with exactly $6,000. And after the grocery store giveaway, and random stops at the homes of overdue electricity bills (now paid in full), he was starting to feel like he deserved this grand reward. But even more than that, he was starting to feel connected, where he felt disconnected before, under the stars in Sedona.

...

His heart was pounding as he took a seat at the roulette table in the Horseshoe Baltimore, his final Black Book destination.

He truly believed in the prophetic power of the Little Black Book, but when it told him to put the entire $6,000 dollars on double 00, even the most devout (and only) apostle of the new religion had his doubts.

But with shaky hands, Henry dropped all of his chips on that single square.

“I thought you were supposed to bet it all on black when you did that!” An older African American woman said with a glorious and joyous laugh.”

“Me too.” Henry said with a not so glorious, nervous chuckle.

“Well good luck friend.” The woman replied looking confused and amused simultaneously. But when the wheel finally stopped and the ball dropped into 00, the whole table went into an uproar.

“Two-hundred and ten thousand dollars,” the dealer said as he pushed over the enormous stack of chips.

Henry was so excited he started placing chips all over the board before a pit boss came from behind him and whispered “Get out.”

Henry shook his head yes as fast as his legs took him away from the table and toward to the exit. He saw the woman with the glorious laugh up ahead and caught up to say thanks for the good luck.

“Oh no problem, that was one hell of a win, uh...” The woman trailed off.

“Henry.”

“Henry, that was definitely the wildest thing I’ve ever seen here, and I’ve been coming for a decade.”

“Well, you know, this whole week has been the wildest thing that’s ever happened to me, so it’s a nice way to end it.” Henry replied.

“It’s a treat to watch someone win like that. Makes it all worth it, even if you’ve been losing since you started here.”

“Bad luck today then huh? Henry asked.

“Yeah yeah, not so bad though, I never come here with more than I’m willing to lose.” She replied.

“What do you come for, business or pleasure?”

“...For my son. Been something of a genius from birth. He was talking full sentences before he could stand up straight! But...I knew I was never gonna have enough for him to go to the school he deserved...So, I come here once every two weeks on Sunday, God willing, to win his tuition.”

“What school?”

“Harvard.”

Henry Paused. “Jesus, that’s like-”

“Two Hundred Thousand Dollars.” She said solemnly.

Henry stopped dead in his tracks staring at the final words of wisdom the book had to offer.

“In recognizing the humanity of our fellow beings, we pay ourselves the highest tribute. – Thurgood Marshall” LBB responded, hoping its message was received.