Motivation logo

Origami Boat

Let your dreams carry you forward

By C.M EdiePublished 3 years ago 9 min read
Like
Origami Boat
Photo by Jan Kahánek on Unsplash

The driver cut the engine. The swoosh of cars passing in the rain replaced the loud clanking.

"We made it just in time. You ready?"

"Are you sure about this? You don't even know me. I feel terrible to —"

"Seeing as your car's sitting in a junk yard now, it's unlikely it'll make another thirteen hundred miles. You've picked a bad place to break down. Besides, I've already bought your ticket."

"Here." A small hand passed a folded piece of paper from the back seat.

"It's a boat I made at school."

The child's enthusiasm eased the increasing fear. "Thank you. That's so sweet."

"We'd better be going then." The driver grabbed the luggage and slammed the trunk. "Sam, go sit over there while I help get checked in."

"Okay."

The bus pulled beside them, letting out a puff of gray smoke.

"Looks like that's me. I don't know how I'm ever going to repay you for this."

"Don't worry about it. Just don't give up on your dream."

"I won't. I promise." The luggage clunked against each step of the bus.

"Wait. Take this as well." A small black notebook was pushed towards the passenger. "It's a positivity notebook. Whenever life gets hard, write a positive thought about your fears or your pain. Then, every day read your words and remind yourself how strong you are."

"Thank you."

They waved until the bus pulled out of sight. The passenger sunk into the seat, opening the notebook. Twenty dollars fell out.

"Here's a little money to get you through," the passenger read. "I'm afraid I have no more to give. I know it's hard when you feel left on your own but look around you and you'll always find someone there. Even when times get too painful or the fear seems too great, you will have this notebook to remind you of somebody who cared."

Ink slid onto the notebook's pages as the passenger spilled the calming words fear prevented. With the origami boat pressed inside, the notebook snapped shut. The bus fell into a quiet hum.

The occupants disembarked, luggage clunking against the stairs into the busy bus station.

"I can't believe you're here." An excited voice rose above the rest.

"Me too. I can't believe I'm doing this."

"You're going to love LA."

***

The apartment door slammed, angry footsteps paced back and forth.

"What's wrong?"

"I think I should just give up. They already picked someone else. I'm never getting the lead."

"Don't say that. They haven't finished full casting yet. You could still get another part."

"I've had 'another part' many times before and it's going nowhere."

Feet shuffled away. "Hold on a sec. I have just what you need."

The notebook opened to a random quote, tears soiling it's worn pages. With a sniffle and a swipe against cheeks, eyes dried up.

"The world may tell me that I can't, but I know I can."

The shuffling feet returned.

A laugh broke the quiet. "I'm not wearing that."

"Yes, you are. Put it on and let's go have some fun."

The notebook rested on a table as the laughter faded.

***

Numbing chatter filled the auditorium. Deep slow breaths came from behind the stage curtain. Each page of the notebook was examined.

"You ready?"

The hands holding the notebook trembled. "Yes."

"Nervous?"

"That obvious? I've preformed before, but it's my first time as lead. Somehow it's more nerve wracking."

"You were perfect during rehearsals. I don't see why you wouldn't be perfect tonight."

"Thanks."

The pen glided across the pages. "Just get out there. They're going to love you."

"Alright. It's time."

The curtain was pushed to the side long enough to make an exit. The notebook laid still on a chair.

***

The bustling of the cafe was oddly calming as the notebook switched from page to page, revealing all its inner thoughts.

"More coffee?"

"Yes. Thank you. You sure are busy today."

"It's nice though, passes the time faster. I tend to get in trouble when it's slow because I find time I shouldn't to do a quick sketch."

"A sketch? Of what?"

"Anything really. When I have a good idea, I like to sketch them out and then I'll paint them later."

"You're an artist?"

"Sort of. I haven't actually been able to sell anything yet. Here's the bill when you're ready, but there's no hurry.

Quick scribbles were added to the first blank page. The bill, a two-hundred-dollar check and an origami boat marked the message.

The waiter returned to an empty table, processed the payment and read the notebook's newest entry.

"This book and origami boat were given to me many years ago when I felt sure I would never be able to live out my dreams. It's because of this book that I had the courage to follow this path and escape regret. I am now passing them on to you. Use them well and never stop chasing your dreams."

A tear smeared the fresh ink.

"What's wrong?"

The notebook slammed shut. "Nothing."

"Then get back to work."

"Sorry."

***

A glob of paint fell onto the notebook's cover and was quickly wiped away.

"These are really good."

"Apparently not good enough. Not a single one is selling."

Paint stained fingers flicked through the quotes hidden within.

"You just need to give it more time." The door handle unlocked. "I'll see you later. I've got to go."

"Alright. Thanks for coming by."

With a sharp exhale, another page turned, hope returning.

"Inspiration can't be forced. Feel the world around you and it will come."

The notebook sat in the window next to a pot of flowers. The rain spattered with each stroke of the brush.

***

"I'm kind of sad that painting's gone." The notebook's pages were mindlessly picked through, though no one looked at them. "I think that was my favorite."

"All of them are somehow your favorite."

"That's probably true."

"Just look where you are. Your art’s in a real gallery. What does your notebook have to say about that?"

With a chuckle, the notebook opened. "Well let's see."

Each page turned with careful consideration.

"I told you so. You can do anything."

With a pat on the back, they headed for the door. "Your notebook knows best. Let's go celebrate."

***

Voices boomed throughout the restaurant with excitement. Clanking of dishes dissipated as stomachs refused to take in any more food.

"Did you see the articles about the checks that've been appearing all over the city?" Studying the notebook, each quote was memorized.

"How could I not?"

"I heard it's some old millionaire that's giving away their fortune and it made me think... maybe I should as well."

With a bolstering laugh, the chair scooted out. "Now that's the spirit, keep selling your paintings like you did tonight and it won't be a dream. Well, we'd better be going."

Everyone hugged as the party guests disappeared.

A check and an origami boat slipped into the back and its final entry written.

"Can I get you anything else before you leave?" The waiter cleared away the empty plates.

"No." The notebook was waved in the air before being sat on the table. "That's for you."

"Huh?" The waiter picked up the notebook and flipped through its pages.

A check and an origami boat were pulled out.

"Dear Uncertain, I know that's how you're feeling because when I talked to you, I could see myself. Waiting tables, imagining scenes only you could see. A while back, a customer left me with this book, a paper boat, and some money. It's time I return the favor. Take this two thousand dollars and invest it in your writing. When you doubt yourself, read these words and you'll make your dream a reality, just as I did. Sincerely, someone who's been there."

The waiter closed the notebook and ran towards the door, but no one remained. Having tucked the book away safely, a new determination rose.

***

The sun beat down through the cafe window. Each vigorous stoke of the pen shook the uneven table. Too lost in the world unfolding on the paper, the notebook fell to the ground unnoticed. A passing customer tripped, knocking it to the side under a new table. It hit the leg with an audible thunk.

"What's this?" Someone picked up the notebook, scanning the room. "I wonder who dropped it?"

"Let me see that will you?" An old hand reached out and took the notebook, thumbing through it.

"Anyway, as I was saying, all your final affairs are in order. You have twenty thousand more to give away without having to replan your will. Are you listening?"

"Yes. Yes. Twenty thousand."

With an eyebrow raised, a gentle hand tried to push the notebook away.

"Are you sure you're alright? You've been acting strange since I got here."

The old hands held its position, refusing to let the notebook be cast aside, though they quivered. "It's just... In the paper I saw the obituary of someone that once helped me and changed my life. I never did get to say thank you. But this notebook..."

"The notebook?"

"I've got to go." The book snapped shut and was rushed towards the door.

"Where are you going?"

"I don't have time to explain. I'll call to reschedule."

Cars raced past, but nothing, including old age stopped the speed of which the notebook was carried through the streets. A passing taxi was the only relief for the labored breathing.

"Where to?"

"Memorial Park Cemetery, please."

Overcome with nostalgia, each passage was read from the back forward. A check was placed in the front of the book with the origami boat.

The cab came to a stop. "Here we are."

"Thank you. I won't be long. Please wait here."

Reaching the graves, mourning funeral goers passed.

"Excuse me, Sam?" The old voice crackled above the somber whispers. Everyone turned, eyeing the unexpected visitor.

"Yes." Sam approached. "I'm sorry, I'm not sure we've met. How-- "

"We met once many, many years ago. I'm just here to pay my condolences and give this back to you."

Sam took the notebook, reading through some of the quotes.

"Thank you, but — Did you see where the person I was just talking to went?"

"Back towards the parking lot I think."

"That was odd."

Reaching the first page, Sam's heart raced at the sight of a $20,000 check. A crinkled origami boat called attention away from the money. Tears streamed at the familiar handwriting.

"Here's a little money to get you through. I'm afraid I have no more to give. I know it's hard when you feel left on your own but look around you and you'll always find someone there. Even when times get too painful or the fear seems too great, you will have this notebook to remind you of somebody who cared."

goals
Like

About the Creator

Reader insights

Be the first to share your insights about this piece.

How does it work?

Add your insights

Comments

There are no comments for this story

Be the first to respond and start the conversation.

Sign in to comment

    Find us on social media

    Miscellaneous links

    • Explore
    • Contact
    • Privacy Policy
    • Terms of Use
    • Support

    © 2024 Creatd, Inc. All Rights Reserved.