Little Black Book

The doorbell distracted me from unpacking. I sighed in frustration and went to answer it. What could only be described as a little old lady stood on my doorstep.

“Hello dear! I’m so sorry to bother you! I was walking past and saw that this old home had a new owner and I couldn’t resist the urge to stop and say, ‘hello.’”

I chuckled. “Well, new owner, yes I am, but I don’t think the house is that old, at least according to the title documents I signed when I bought it, but thank you for the welcome. Do you live nearby?” I wanted to be neighborly, but I could feel the weight of my unpacking chore on my shoulders. The divorce and moving had cost me a pretty penny. I had taken the day off work to do this and I didn’t really want to spend time chit-chatting with strangers.

She laughed and her face had a merry gleam. “Oh, forgive me! It seems old to me I suppose because of my age. Actually, I used to live here! The place has so many fond memories. Would it be too much trouble if I could just step in for just a moment to savor them? My husband passed recently, and we were so happy here … .”

Her words hung in the air and I could feel her expectation and hope like a tangible thing. What could it hurt, I wondered, to grant an old lady a few moments of reminiscing? She seemed harmless enough, and she reminded me of someone although I couldn’t quite place it at the moment. “Sure, come on in. I’m just unpacking so everything’s a mess right now.”

“Oh thank you! It’s no bother at all! A little mess –”

“—never hurt anyone!” we finished simultaneously, and then we laughed.

“You say that, too!” I quipped.

“Well, I never was one of those neat-freak types. Clean, yes, but a bit on the clutter-y side. My husband was the neat one. He was an engineer.”

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I offered.

“Thank you. It’s been hard. Thank you for letting me pop in for a peak. Do you mind if I walk around for a few minutes? I won’t touch anything.”

I hesitated. What could it hurt? She was just an old lady. “Sure, go right ahead. I’m just going to work some more on unpacking while you reminisce.”

She smiled and nodded and that familiar feeling was there again, but my mind was so full of boxes that I didn’t dwell on it.

No sooner had I opened the next box to unpack when the doorbell rang again. It was a man in a Post Office uniform.

“Sorry to bother you, ma’am. I have a delivery for Miss June Brame.”

Yes, that’s me,” I stated, as he gave me a receipt to sign, and a manila envelope.

A single page was inside the envelope. It read:

Sweet June-bug, don’t be alarmed. I know this will seem strange to you but it will all make sense soon. The little old lady is not to be feared, she is to be trusted! As much as you would trust your own self! This note is to let you know that the events which are about to unfold were planned for a long time. I have been working hard! I want us to have a good life, a great life! Just please do as she asks and don’t be afraid. It will all work out wonderfully, you’ll see! I love you with all my heart and am forever yours.

My hands shook. What was this? Some crazy scheme of my ex?

Footsteps on the wood floor startled me and the note shook in my hands. “I see the letter got here just in time,” the old lady said. “I told him you’d only think it was Frank pulling some kind of stunt to get you back but he didn’t want to lose a chance to tell you he loved you.”

Confusion and fear caused me to feel a good deal of rage. “What the hell is going on?!” I demanded. “How do you know about Frank? Who is telling me they love me, someone I don’t even know! This is insane!”

“Frank has nothing to do with this and he will never be part of your life again. Please don’t be afraid. There is nothing bad here, just secret.” Her serene demeanor calmed me a little. Not much, but a little.

“Why is it secret? If this is about me or for me or whatever, why does anything need to be secret? Who wrote this?”

She sighed. “It’s secret because it’s so unbelievable, although true, and we need to prove to you that it’s true. Please just be patient and you’ll see. Everything will work out just fine, just in time. Shall I go make us some coffee while we wait for the next delivery?”

I stared at her in bewilderment.

“I know you’ve put the coffee pot in place and the coffee and filters are in the upper cabinet to the left of the sink.” She stepped into the kitchen and I could hear her filling the coffee pot with water.

I wondered if I should call the police and have her arrested.

“No!” she called out from the kitchen. “That won’t work and would only create a huge mess of things and then we’d lose this opportunity!”

What the … is she in my head?! If I hadn’t heard her puttering in the kitchen, I might have wondered if I’d lost my mind and was imagining the whole thing.

Soon, she brought me a cup of coffee. “When the next delivery gets here, there will be more information to convince you. Drink your coffee, dear.”

I sipped obediently. She reminded me a little of my grandma, now that I thought about it, and a little of my mother. That must be why I felt like trusting her even though I didn’t want to.

The chime of the doorbell startled me so much I spilled coffee when my hand shook. The little old lady took my cup. “Go answer the door, dear, and get your package. I think you will be pleased.”

A few moments later, I was watching the FedEx delivery man drive away in his truck. I closed the door slowly, package in hand, and then turned to her. With a smile, she handed me a box knife.

Inside the box was cash and a lot of it, twenty thousand dollars to be exact. She chuckled and exclaimed, “I knew you’d be pleased! You have to be careful about depositing it though, just a few hundred at a time or the bank will report you to the Feds and you’ll lose your job.”

“I’m not pleased, I’m shocked! Shocked and scared! How did you get this money? Why did you have it sent to me? How did you know I worked at a bank?” I could feel my hysteria growing with every syllable I uttered.

“Calm down, dear! It’s okay! The money is safe, it’s ours, and we wanted to give it to you as proof that what is happening is real and true. It’s proof of our commitment to you, to this whole thing, to the future. Think of it as an investment.”

“It’s more like evidence, and probably of a crime! What are you involving me in, here? Enough already! Tell me what is going on! Who even are you? I don’t know who you are!”

“There is no crime, dear. None. I will explain more when the next delivery arrives later this afternoon. In the meantime, why don’t you take your mind off all this and do some more unpacking? I can help you.”

I felt listless suddenly, drained. The morning’s events had worn me out. It was just too much drama and suspense.

“Maybe a nap will help,” she suggested. Wordless, I headed off to my bedroom down the hall. I figured I might wake up from this bizarre incident, maybe I was already dreaming the whole thing.

The next thing I knew, the little old lady was bringing me coffee in bed. “Wake up, dear! The UPS man will be here in a little while and you don’t want to be groggy. You’ve been sleeping for a couple hours.”

“Thank you for the coffee.”

“Thank you for being patient. I know it’s a struggle and that you are scared and confused. You will understand it all soon, I promise.”

I sipped the coffee, wondering why I was so compliant with her.

“What’s in the next delivery?”

“A notebook. A black, Moleskine notebook. Pocket sized. Squared paper.”

“Well that’s pretty specific for a change,” I muttered. “What’s in the notebook?”

“The future.” Her voice was soft, like a whisper, filled with so much longing I thought my heart would break. I wondered if she was a dementia patient, wandered off from her family. Maybe they were looking for her right now.

“I’m not crazy,” she said, indignation in her voice. “You will see. Then you will believe.”

She warned me a few minutes later to put my coffee down as the UPS delivery was coming down the walkway and she didn’t want me to spill again. As if on cue, the doorbell chimed. Once more, I answered the door and accepted the package. Inside were two manila envelopes, one clearly a book.

“Don’t open the other!” she commanded. “Not yet!”

“Why didn’t you just schedule another delivery?” I asked with sarcasm.

“We ran out of other delivery options that would work for us. You may look in the book, but it won’t make sense to you right now. This is the key that unlocks it all so guard it with your life!”

I sighed and opened the little black notebook. It was filled with equations, and diagrams, and shorthand coded notes that made no sense to me whatsoever. I reached for the other envelope. Inside were pictures. The first one was of the little old lady and an old man, clearly a wedding picture taken probably no more than twenty years prior.

“We met late,” she began. “But we were so in love, even at our age! I spent a lot of years alone after my divorce and then he came into my life and swept me off my feet with his twinkling, chocolate-colored eyes. We wanted to have met when we were young, so we could have more years together, and maybe children.”

So many pictures. Some were of a handsome, man who I could tell was her husband when he was younger.

I glanced through the other pictures until I came across one that was familiar.

“Hey! Where did you get a picture of me?” I demanded.

“Look at me!” she insisted, “LOOK!”

I stared. “You remind me of my grandmother, and my mother.”

She pulled up her sleeve and showed me the scar on her arm, identical to the scar on my arm that my ex had given me in our last fight. Stunned, I looked back into her eyes. “Yes. Frank gave me that. It’s me, June. I am you. The notebook is Justin’s notes for a time machine. When he gets here, be sure you give it to him. I have to leave now.”

Once more the doorbell chimed and like a robot I went to answer it. There he stood, flowers in hand, the handsomest man I’d ever seen, more handsome in real life than in the pictures I’d just seen.

“You must be June,” he said, chocolate-colored eyes gleaming in merriment.

I nodded and motioned for him to enter.

“You’re not going to believe this,” he began.

“Oh, I bet I will!” I retorted.

“Hey, has anyone ever called you June-bug?”

“Not until today, and you are just in time.”

Justin laughed. “The little old man said you’d call me that.”