The Black Notebook

“Momma, I’m hungry,” whined the little girl, as her mother hurried her along the street to the bus stop. “I know,” her mother said. “We’ll eat as soon as we get home.”

The child was not satisfied with this assurance. As she scurried past the food trucks that lined the downtown street, almost running to keep up with her mother, the smell of frying potatoes washed over her, faded a little, and was replaced by a fragrance of cinnamon, and then replaced again by the sharp smells of sauerkraut and onions. By the time they had gotten to the end of the row, the aromas were so mingled that they could only be identified as pure deliciousness. The child knew the food at home would not be so tempting.

The little girl’s mother, Linnie Wilson, knew too that dinner would be whatever was in the last few cans in the cupboard, the ones that were passed over for more appetizing choices when the shelf was full. Linnie was down to her last few dollars, and the first day of the month was still more than a week away.

The two made it to the bus just as the doors were beginning to close. The driver and Linnie looked at each other, both knowing that if she had been two steps later, he would have closed the door tight and driven on. He opened the doors again with a sigh. Linnie swung her daughter over the murky city water that had gathered near the curb and placed her on the bottom step of the bus. The little girl scrambled up the rest of the steps and into the only open seat, just behind the driver. Linnie swiped her bus pass and slid into the seat next to her daughter.

The day had been discouraging. At the unemployment office, Linnie had studied the bulletin board of job postings carefully, looking for something new she might apply for. She found nothing.

Linnie arrived at the school just in time to see a group of children, Morgan among them, running out of the building as the first graders did at the end of every day. “What are they running toward?” Linnie wondered. What awaited her daughter at home couldn’t possibly be better than what happened inside the school building. Yet Morgan met her mother with the same exuberance every afternoon.

On the bus, Morgan sat humming quietly to herself, clinging to the remnants of her joyful mood. Her mother sat looking out the window, only half-noticing the familiar landscape as the bus headed away from downtown, stopping every few blocks to let someone off. No one got on.

Linnie realized she must have been dozing when she woke to Morgan tugging on her jacket. The bus had just let off the last passenger and was slowly pulling up to stop at a traffic light. “Momma, look, that man left something on the seat!” The little girl leaned over the seat behind them, her skirt flying up to reveal the pink shorts she was wearing under her school uniform. She climbed back, holding a small black notebook.

Linnie stared. The book was closed but looked as if it were bursting. It was small enough to see what was keeping it from closing completely. It was money. A lot of it.

“Driver, stop please! We need to get out!” Linnie yelled. The driver, clearly annoyed at the same woman who had held him up getting on the bus, rolled his eyes and sighed again. But, deciding against an argument, he opened the door to let the mother and child out.

Back on the street, Linnie grabbed Morgan’s hand, and the two rushed toward the figure of a man, a half a block away, walking away from them. He was the only person on the street – the man who had just gotten off the bus.

Catching up to him, Linnie called out. “Excuse me. I think you left something behind.”

The man turned around quickly and started to grasp at his coat pockets. Linnie reached out her hand out, holding the little black notebook, which was barely concealing the pile of money.

The man glanced at Linnie and Morgan, and gave them a polite smile. “Thanks,” he said. “I certainly would have missed that.” He took the notebook from Linnie’s hand, turned, and continued on his way.

Linnie put her arm on her little girl’s shoulder, and the two walked toward the bus stop. They were in no hurry now. The next bus was twenty minutes away.