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The Black Book

Legacy

By Bonnie DillaboughPublished 3 years ago 10 min read
5

Will opened his eyes squinting into bright sunlight, his head pounding. He felt his forehead and sure enough, a large bump was forming just over his right eye. He sat up carefully and looked at his watch, surprised to see it was still there. Of course, it wasn't a very expensive watch and he only wore it out of habit. He still found it easier than having to pull his cell phone out of his pocket to check the time. Only minutes had passed since the attack and there was no crowd of anxious on-lookers hovering over him.

He patted his pocket and was surprised to see that the cell phone was also still there. But, like the watch, it was just what his friends would call a "burner phone", with metered minutes. No self-respecting thief would waste his time.

He considered calling the police but decided instead to finish his dash to the bus stop. The bus would be along in a few minutes and it wasn't like he had any money in the stolen wallet only his id and his bus pass. His bus pass… He shook his head in disgust, which set off a new wave of pain. Now what was he going to do? Maybe the bus driver would still let him board. He was a regular and carried a monthly pass.

Slowly he levered himself from the grass to his feet and wobbled his way over to the bus stop a mere 100 feet from where he had been waylaid. As he flopped onto the bench at the stop, he realized he had sat on something he hadn't noticed against the black enameled metal bench.

It was a small black moleskin book with no title or lettering on the cover. He had to work on focusing his eyes, but as he opened it, just inside the cover he found the following inscription in cursive, apparently written with a fountain pen:

"To whomever finds this book. Please call this number to return it. There is a reward offered." Under the writing in block letters was a phone number.

A reward? That sounded promising under the circumstances. He was yet a bit muzzy-headed, which is why his skepticism filter didn't seem to be working at the moment. He dialed the number.

A female voice answered. "This is Harriet, how may I help you?"

"I found your book," he said simply.

"Wonderful. There is an address in the back. Drop it by and we can talk about how to reward your helpfulness."

Will looked inside the back cover and sure enough there was an address at least 20 minutes away by bus.

"Sorry, ma'am. Can I bring it over tomorrow? I'm having a hard time and I don't have any way to get there right now. Someone stole my wallet with my I.D. and bus pass in it and I'm a bit woozy as he knocked me in the head."

"Not to worry, young man. Tell me where you are, and my friend will stop by for you. He drives a blue S.U.V. and will be wearing a Seahawks ball cap. Will that do?"

Will agreed and gave her the name of the park behind the bus stop. If there was a reward it couldn't hurt, and he didn't have anything for anyone to steal.

Fifteen long minutes later, the promised S.U.V. arrived and Will didn't hesitate. He got in beside the rather beefy black man who identified himself as Tarkington and away they went. They pulled up in front of a rather tall glass-faced apartment building. "Show the doorman the book and he'll direct you from there."

And as soon as Will carefully stepped out and closed the door, Tarkington sped off. Sure enough. standing beside large double glass doors was a uniformed man. As promised, when Will showed him the book, he held open the door and said, "Second elevator on the right. Push the silver button at the top."

Careful not to shake his head, which still hurt, Will did as instructed. After a long minute of watching the numbers climb on the lighted display, there was a ding and the doors slid open. He had expected a long hallway full of doors, but there was only one door surrounded by a space not much larger than the elevator.

He knocked and the door was almost immediately opened by a petit redhead. "She's waiting for you, come on in."

The door opened into a large beige carpeted great room with elegant modern furnishings with huge picture windows lining both sides of the room. Seated at an executive style mahogany desk was an elderly African American woman, her long braided hair shining silver in the sunlight.

"Come in, come in and be seated," she said cheerfully gesturing at a leather chair in front of the desk.

Will complied, very much in overwhelm by this time. He laid the book on the desk between them.

"Oh dear, you are hurt! Did you see your attacker? Nellie, get this young man an ice pack and some aspirin, will you?"

"I was mugged in the little park by my home. I usually cut through there to get to the bus. They took my wallet and hit me on the head. I think the gun he had stuck in my back was actually a rock." He felt like an idiot, but that was the simple truth.

Nellie showed up with two aspirin, a glass of water and an ice pack as requested, and Will dutifully swallowed the aspirin and laid the ice pack gently on the bump on his head.

"Bring me the survival kit," Harriet told Nellie and Nellie rushed off to comply.

"You found the book. Did you look into it?"

Will admitted he had flipped through the pages. "It just seems to be a list of names," he said.

"Indeed. This book is an important part of a rather large research project for me. Each of these names is part of that research and now you are too. Your name?" she asked, thumbing through the book .

"Will Larson," he replied, hesitantly.

She wrote his name on the last line of one of the pages and a date beside it.

He noticed that beside each of the names was a date and a signature.

"Will, I am about to give you a reward for returning this book, a rather large sum, not a full years wages for most people, but tidy, nevertheless. It sounds to me like you're having a difficult day, but unless I miss my guess, you've had a lot of those recently. This reward won't make you rich in and of itself, but if you make some good choices, it could be much more than it appears."

Nellie returned with a worn denim duffle style sports bag with soft leather handles and a leather shoulder strap. The bag appeared to be full, but not terribly heavy.

Harriet thanked her and went on as Nellie left the room. "This is a survival kit. I want you to use everything in it in any way you wish, including the money. Inside are two moleskin journals, a red one and a green one. The green book is your idea book. The red one is your account book, not for recording figures, although you may do that as well, but for recording your experiences. If you agree to accept this, I will only ask that you write in each book daily.

Here's where my little research project comes in. You can use this money any way you need or wish to, but I want you to think about it carefully. You may not deposit it into a bank and let it sit there. You must use it to do some good, either for yourself or someone else as you choose. There is an inscription inside the green book. Read it carefully before you make any decisions. In the duffle is a bank security bag with $20,000 in various denominations to make it easier to use. In the bag is also a list more valuable than the money. Each person on that list has agreed to give you an hour of their time. Each of them is an influencer in their field and there is no expiration date on the offer. The only limitation is that you are not allowed to ask them for a loan when this money is gone."

Other than writing in the journals, the only other requirements are that either when the money is spent or in six months, whichever comes first you will come back and visit with me and give me the red book and you will never tell anyone I did this for you. You may keep the green one.

Do you understand?"

Will said, "yes," rather numbly. The pain in his head had eased slightly, but he had a feeling it would hurt like fire in the morning.

"Then sign here, please," she said turning the little black book back to him and pointing next to the date beside his name.

He did so. "No other strings?" he asked.

"None…well maybe one. Tarkington is back downstairs and will take you to the emergency room, paid for by me, to check to see if you have a concussion. Then he will take you home to begin making arrangements for your new venture."

She stood and with a smile offered him her hand to shake, a definite dismissal. He reached across the desk, shook her hand and left. Sure enough, Tarkington was downstairs in front of the building. He took Will to the emergency room where they bandaged his head after determining there was no concussion and gave him something for the pain that would surely come in the morning.

When Tarkington let him out at his little efficiency apartment, he shouldered the bag and as quietly as possible let himself in, so as not to alert his landlord. Just this morning he had been handed a 3-day eviction notice, being two months behind in his rent. He could hardly wait to see the look on the old curmudgeon's face when he handed him the cash and demanded a receipt.

He quickly went through the bag and it was all there. Now he had to think. She was right, $20,000 wasn't even a year's wages, and considering he was currently unemployed, going out and buying a car or going on a spending binge would waste this opportunity. As instructed he read the message on the inside of the green book. It was a bit cryptic.

"Multiplication beats addition every time. Buy and eat a piece of fruit and all you can do is throw away the pit, but buy some seeds, plant them, and nourish them and with patience, you can have bushels of fruit for the rest of your life and enough to share."

Much later, playing with his children in the large backyard of his split level home, he would look back on the mentoring he got that day. It turns out Harriet had been given such an opportunity by someone as a young woman in a similar situation to his with similar advice. He had long since multiplied that $20,000 many times over, starting by stabilizing himself.

He went on to gather others he knew who were hard workers and willing hands and with the advice of the thought leaders on his list , he had established a company that provided needed services for people in difficult circumstances and now employed several hundred people at decent wages. He never actually ended up spending the entire amount he was given.

Instead, he bought his own black book. It's out there somewhere right now.

humanity
5

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