Perception

I was sitting at my usual table when she approached. A beautiful woman with flawless dark skin stood opposite me, her black braids pulled back off her face. She clutched a small notebook in her hands and her walnut-brown eyes were anxious. I eyed her quizzically as she perched on an empty chair.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, “I don’t have a lot of time. I’m Nia and I need your help. I cannot answer your questions and I cannot tell you why I’m here. Can I trust you, Blake?”

“How-?”

“I’m sorry, there’s no time,” she hissed. “Just tell me, can I trust you?”

I stared at her, unsure what I was supposed to say. Moments ago, this woman had not existed in my world. Now, the desperation in her face told me she was about to involve me in something dark or dangerous.

I could say no. But what else was I going to do with my day?

“Yes, you can trust me.”

Nia visibly relaxed and held out the notebook. Eyebrows raised, I took it and examined the cover. It was made of fine black leather, completely pristine, yet a quick glance at the page edges showed it had been thumbed through several times.

“I need you to look after this notebook for one hour,” Nia said urgently. “You must not give it to anyone else or tell anyone about it, not even the authorities. You must not let it leave your hands-”

She gasped suddenly, snatching the notebook out of my hands and hugging it to her chest. I had been just about to open it.

“And most importantly of all, you must not look inside.”

She looked me in the eyes, pleading.

“Blake, I’m serious. You must not look inside this notebook. They’ll know if you do. And you can’t.”

I opened my mouth then closed it again. I considered the notebook as she handed it back to me. It was completely uninteresting. Well, on the outside. I wondered what it could possibly contain to cause such bizarre circumstances.

“Meet me outside your office building in one hour,” Nia said, standing. “If you keep the notebook safe and don’t look inside, I will give you twenty thousand dollars.”

I couldn’t help it; I burst out laughing. She’d almost had me hooked, convinced me there was some kind of danger. But twenty grand was a step too far.

“Sorry,” I said after a while, wiping my eyes and smiling at her apologetically, “I need to get going. But good luck with your notebook.”

Nia’s expression remained passive. Without speaking, she placed a plain brown handbag on the table. With a furtive glance around her, she opened the bag, holding it out so I could peer inside.

I gasped, almost dropping the notebook. Sure enough, four large wads of hundred-dollar bills were in the bag. Nia reached for one of the wads and gently fanned it with her thumb so I could see the inside notes. All one hundred-dollar bills.

Before I could speak, she held a finger to her lips, then snapped the bag closed and stood.

"One hour," she said. "Tell no one. Don't give anyone the notebook. Don't look inside."

She headed towards the door of the café but not before turning back and calling two words that sent inexplicable shivers down my spine.

"Good luck."

A thousand questions ran through my mind, each clambering over the next to be my centre of attention. Who the hell was that woman? What did she mean "they’ll know"? And what was so important about this damn notebook? I checked my watch; I had to stop at the post office before work. If I left now, I'd arrive in exactly one hour.

My thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a throat clearing. Looking up, I froze and took in the six foot five, tank-like man towering over my table, glaring at me like I'd said something offensive about his mother.

"Excuse me," he said gruffly. "Is this seat taken?" He gestured to the chair Nia had sat in. I breathed a sigh of relief, but then he glanced at the notebook and my heart leapt into my throat. Why was he looking at it? Unable to speak, I shook my head. He nodded a thanks and dragged the chair to his table, sat down and leaned in to whisper to an equally burly man with flaming red hair, who watched me suspiciously.

I couldn’t take it. I jumped up from my seat, wound my scarf around my neck and pulled my coat on, a fairly challenging feat considering I was still holding the notebook. Zipping it up and pulling my hood up, I scurried out of the café with my head down. I glanced around at the men and regretted it immediately; the first was staring at me, the other at the notebook. I practically ran through the door.

Out on the street I exhaled and, hugging the notebook to my chest, set off towards the post office.

"Hey!"

I jumped. Without looking I could tell it was the man from the café. I kept going, trying to keep my pace even and my face forward. I willed myself to breathe normally. He could be calling anyone.

"Hey, you! In the striped coat!"

Oh god, he was definitely talking to me. Peeking round, I was horrified to see both men walking in my direction. I sped up, walking as fast as I could without running.

“Oi!”

Fear got the better of me and I broke into a run. Weaving between disgruntled shoppers, I raced up the street, praying I made it to the post office before the men could catch up.

“What the hell are you doing?” I heard one of them shout but I kept going, almost tripping over my own feet as I sped round the corner towards the post office.

I was about to push the door open when a hand clamped down on my shoulder. I turned and found myself face to face with the men, both towering over me, looking furious. I gripped the notebook so tight my knuckles went white.

“Are you deaf or something?” grunted the red-headed man, crossing his arms and glaring at me.

“S-sorry,” I spluttered, blushing. “I-I was in a rush to g-get to the p-post office before w-work.”

The other man thrust something at me with such force I almost fell over. I realised it was my satchel.

“You left this at the café,” he snapped.

Somehow, my cheeks went even redder.

“Oh! Thank you so much,” I said, trying to smile and failing miserably.

There were a few awkward moments before the two men shrugged and shuffled away, casting annoyed, slightly concerned glances back at me. Letting out a low whistle, I flung my bag over my shoulder and leaned against the post office wall. I seriously needed to get a grip on things.

My pulse had almost returned to normal by the time I left the post office. As I walked towards work, I imagined what it would be like if Nia really did hand me twenty thousand dollars. I’d be able to walk into my building and hand in the resignation letter that had been sitting in my desk for three months. I wasn’t convinced I should even be taking all of this seriously, but I wasn’t willing to risk it. That money would change my life.

A siren brought me out of my fantasy as a police car came zooming down the street, screeching to a halt three feet from me on the other side of the road. My stomach dropped as I locked eyes with the police officer in the passenger seat. I averted my gaze and kept going, trying to discreetly tuck the notebook under my arm so that she couldn’t see it. Darting round the corner at as nonchalant a pace as possible, I leaned against the wall and tried to look like I was waiting for someone. I didn’t want to make them suspicious if I ran away. I knew I was being irrational, that thousands of police cars travelled through the city every day, but Nia had specifically mentioned the authorities. What if they were looking for the notebook? For a split second I considered handing it in. If the police wanted it, I shouldn’t get involved. But then I thought of the money. Adjusting my grip on the notebook, I pushed off the wall and continued down the street.

When my office building was in sight, another two police cars with flashing lights pulled up beside me. My heart pounded in my chest but I kept my eyes on the revolving door of my building’s entrance. I was doing nothing wrong. They had no reason to stop me.

Behind me I heard the car doors slam, the chatter of a police radio. I forced myself to stay calm as three police officers sprinted past me and into the bank opposite my office building. Not one of them looked my way.

As I slumped my shoulders, I realised how exhausted I was. The rollercoaster of emotions I’d ridden this past hour had been completely draining. Money or no money, I was counting the seconds until I could give Nia the notebook.

She wasn’t there when I arrived. I paced at the bottom of the steps, checking my watch every ten seconds. Two more minutes until I was free. And possibly rich. Hell, I’d be happy with option one.

With thirty seconds to go, I groaned as I saw Callum, a sweet but clumsy colleague, hurrying towards me, not looking where he was going. I stepped to the side for him to get past. It was a second too late.

Callum bumping into me on any other day would be an irritating but amusing non-event. Now, as I felt the notebook sliding out from under my arm, I could have punched him. Trying to be helpful, Callum reached forward, ready to catch the notebook if it dropped. In a panic, I yelped and pushed him away, almost sending him toppling into the road. Hurt filled his eyes and he rushed into the building without looking back. I felt a pang of guilt but ignored it; I’d apologise once I'd given the notebook back.

After what felt like a lifetime, Nia appeared, every bit as beautiful as before. She beamed at me and I felt my whole body relax as she took the notebook from my hands.

“Thank you, Blake,” she said. “You did admirably. As promised, here’s your money.”

Nia handed me the bag. Unable to stop myself, I opened it and took a look. Sure enough, there they were, the wads of hundred-dollar bills. I grinned to myself, excitement bubbling at the opportunities this money would give me.

I looked up to thank Nia but she was already halfway down the street.

“Wait!”

I ran after her and she stopped.

“Am I allowed to know what’s in the notebook now?”

Nia’s smile widened but she didn’t say anything, just handed me the notebook. Eagerly, I opened it.

It was blank.

I flipped through the pages but didn’t see a single word. It was completely empty.

I looked up at Nia, perplexed. “There’s nothing inside!”

Nia laughed. “No, there isn’t. There was never any emergency or any danger. I never actually needed your help. I was simply conducting an experiment into the human mind’s perception of danger.”

My mouth dropped open.

“You see, Blake,” Nia said. “You can find danger anywhere if you’re searching for it. All you need is something of value to help you find it.”

And without another word, Nia walked away, leaving me twenty thousand dollars richer and seriously confused.

Perhaps I should have been angry that I’d been used.

I thought about my boss’s face when I handed in my resignation.

I decided to let it go.