Little Black Notebook

Chrissie closed the back end of her SUV and carried the last box to her quaint, renovated farmhouse. Her friend Henry had just thrown her a retirement party at his posh clubhouse in the subdivision he lived in. Technically, she had taken an early retirement without pay some ten plus years ago. Therefore, she was surprised at the turnout of friends and former colleagues at the party. But then again, Henry's parties always drew a crowd, plus he was a retired district employee as well, so that helped.

Chrissie arranged all of the boxes full of gifts on her dining room table to go through later and respond in kind with handwritten thank you cards. Those were certainly a lost art in this day of group e-mails, posts, and texts. As the writer she had become and the writer she had always been, handwritten, personalized gestures were very important to her still. She included a personal greeting in every Christmas card she sent every year. None of these mass produced letters about year-round adventures. Quite frankly, nothing that interesting ever happened to her to be long enough to warrant a letter. As she was leaving the room, a manila envelope caught her eye. Her name in block lettering stared back at her.

What kind of a present comes in a manila envelope, she wondered? Intrigued, she tore it open and inside was a cashier's check for $20,000 with a note in the same block lettering. She nearly choked on the celebratory bubbly she was sipping. "All yours for a very small favor. Give me your little black notebook."

It was signed Public Schools Watchmen.

Little black notebook??? Who the hell is this person? Chrissie thought back to all the documentation she'd had to keep over the years of teaching. Abuse cases, pictures and descriptions of marks kids had made on her, documentation for doctors for a variety of behaviors that hindered student learning, and last, but not least, positive parent letters and recommendations for evaluation documentation. Plus, there was that fun notebook she and Annie, her paraprofessional, kept every year entitled "Kids Say The Damndest Things"! But a little black notebook? One that was actually worth something to someone no less!

Chrissie was very fortunate in her teaching career. She found her niche in a great elementary school that the staff called an island in the storm. It was located in a rough part of town, but the neighborhood consisted mainly of houses, not apartments. Students walked or were driven, not bused. Plus, it was a rare gem being a primary school with kindergarten through third grades, which tended to cut back on behavior issues prevalent in the upper elementary grades.

She worked for a boss that gave her the integrity to do her job without micromanaging. Her teammates were young and eager to work together with her instead of against her like the horror stories she had heard. Students and families still showed respect for the most part, and at-risk behaviors were limited to three or four per classroom. But then, the economy tanked and gas prices soared, so she decided to look for a teaching job closer to home.

That is when Chrissie made one of the biggest mistakes of her life! She was hired at a school with a supposedly good reputation. Two female bosses, moody, middle-aged teammates, and an unusually high special needs population was a recipe for disaster that would force her to retire early without pay until she was 55. But quality of life was worth more than money in Chrissie's book. The stress of the last four years of her career nearly put her over the edge. It had caused health problems as well.

Suddenly, a flush of realization spread throughout Chrissie's body. She had been a victim of harassment at that ominous school. She had gone through the proper channels to report this harassment. At the advice of a district union representative, she had begun recording names and incidents of the bullying. Chrissie had recorded those details in a LITTLE BLACK NOTEBOOK! This must be what they wanted. But the question remained; who was this and why?

Writing had always been Chrissie's go to for stress management. There was something very cathartic about writing down the rawest of emotions with good, old-fashioned pen and paper. She used lined journals from bookstores with fancy designs on them. Brightly colored gel pens were a must too. Chrissie loved the way the pens would glide so smoothly on the paper. So, when the union rep suggested documentation to solidify her case, Chrissie went to the bookstore to find a fancy journal to make it more fun. She chose a black, lined, leather notebook tied with a long leather strap.

When it came right down to it, the choices as to who this person may be were obvious. Those names mentioned in the black notebook were directly tied to the harassment incidents. Those persons, particularly the bosses, wouldn't want their names scandalized. But they weren't even aware the notebook existed back then. Had she told anyone about the notebook or going to the district about the bullying? There were very few people she could trust in that school, so she doubted having mentioned it to any coworkers. However, her friends had always been her shoulders to lean on. While Chrissie was pretty confident none of them would say anything that would harm her directly, she couldn't be sure the information hadn't been mentioned to someone else.

Meanwhile, what to do with this $20,000 check?? What the hell, let's cash it and see what happens! Chrissie went to the her bank in town to cash the check. The bank teller gave her a funny look. "This check has special instructions attached. You can only cash half of this check today, ma'am. The rest can be cashed when you make a deposit to this lock box number." The teller pushed a key towards her. Chrissie watched carefully as the teller then slowly counted the $10,000 bills in front of her. Very clever, thought Chrissie. Just enough money to reel me in and keep me motivated to give up the notebook. She needed to find a safe place for the cash and the little black notebook until she figured out what to do next.

Little did anyone know that in the last ten years of healing and finding her niche as a writer, Chrissie had written a book about her experiences of being bullied in the public school system. While she hadn't used full names in her book, she had no intentions of remaining loyal when the book was published and attracted public attention, which was the main goal. What's more, only a couple of people knew about the book, and those people would never betray her. Suddenly, a light bulb lit up her mind! She would use the $10,000 to plan a book party for herself! Beyond excited, she headed home to her peaceful farmhouse.

Over the next few weeks, Chrissie found a safe place to keep her money and the little black notebook. She drew up a guest list and sent out invitations to her book party. During this time, however, a dark cloud hung over the preparations. Another note had shown up, this time by mail to her farmhouse. "As I have not received a drop off in the deposit box at the bank, I assume you refuse to comply with our agreement. Consequences will follow." Signed District Watchmen...

Agreement? Well, that's what she gets for cashing half of the money. But come on! What's the worst that can happen? Surely no one tied to the district is going to do anything illegal?! Chrissie could not have been more wrong. On the week of her book party strange things started happening. On Monday, there was a dead crow on her doorstep. Tuesday brought a tank full of sugar when she tried to fill her SUV with gas. Wednesday her credit card was denied when she went shopping for party decorations. When she found her car windshield smashed on Thursday, she finally reported the petty incidents to police. Of course, there was nothing they could do but take down her report while she gave them some background history and showed them the card and note.

Friday saved the best for last. Chrissie stared at four slashed tires on her ca. When she bent to inspect the culprit, her hand grazed something sharp, cutting her finger. A note on the windshield read "Congratulations. You've just been exposed to a deadly virus." For a second time in a week she found herself reaching out to the local authorities. They swabbed her finger, bagged the note and blade, and cheerfully told her this crime may have just been upgraded to a felony. One of the officers asked if it was possible for the suspected culprits to show up to her book party tomorrow. There would be a heavy district presence there, but she had one more trick up her sleeve for luring them in. As Chrissie thanked the officers, they told her to count them in on the guest list!

Saturday dawned sunny and beautiful; perfect party weather. It was a fancy venue at a beautiful hotel ballroom with tables full of food and signed copies of her book. All of her favorite friends, family, and colleagues were in attendance with her publisher by her side. Finally, the icing on the cake as a reward for all her pain and suffering; a confetti machine blowing pieces of brightly colored paper scraps with the names of all the bullies in her book written on them. The scraps blew into the air and landed on the floor for all to see. A movement caught her eye. A couple guests whose faces she could not see were making a hasty exit, and the officers from yesterday were hot on their heels.