Jalil's Story

Jalil sat, leaned against the cold brick wall at the far end of Chisolm park; his knees to his chest, head in his hands, doing his best to keep passerby’s from seeing his tears and heaving chest, the obvious outward signs of his sobbing. He wasn’t sure he could withstand the ridicule he felt would inevitably come from seeing one of the neighborhoods cool guys crying like a baby. He closed his eyes, tried not to think any more about the people that may or may not see him in this state and let his mind drift back to the last time he and his twin sister, Mya, came to Chisolm park together.

It was a near perfect late spring day; the sun shining brightly through the cracks in the huge fluffy white clouds, jutting bright sun beams across the ground. He and Mya were laying on the ground staring up at the sky, relaxing after finishing a lunch of ham sandwiches, plain, greasy, and salty potato chips, a pudding cup, and a can of generic orange soda for each of them. They were talking about their college plans; Jalil was hoping to go to Oxford for English Literature and Mya wanted to attend Stanford Law. Jalil new his sister would make an amazing lawyer. She was smart, driven, and loved to argue. Her sharp wit always kept her a step ahead of him and was something he envied about her.

He remembered they spent a lot of days just like this, out in the warmth of sunny day, sitting in the cool shade talking for hours on end about everything. He used to tell her stories that he hoped someday would help him become a novelist. She would lay there, listening and writing in her notebook, always writing, though she’d never let him see what she was writing. He was always curious but never pushed to see what she was writing, he simply kept on with the story he was telling and left her to it. He now wished he could have that notebook so he might know what she was writing, if only it hadn’t burned up in the fire that took his sisters life. If only he had taken the time to ask her what she was writing about.

With his despair deepening, Jalil felt a tap on his shoulder but he couldn’t look up, he couldn’t face whoever was standing over him, not in this state. He pretended not to notice. He tried, with all his might, to just continue remembering that last beautiful day in the park he had spent with Mya; dreaming out loud to each other and her constant scribbling in her notebook.

After a couple of minutes, he felt another tap on the same shoulder, this time it was more forceful than the first and was proving much more difficult to ignore. He calmed himself a bit, preparing to be trash mouthed for his current condition. He slowly pulled his head from hands, wiping his tear-soaked eyes in a single movement. As his vision cleared, he looked up, only to find no one there. No verbal abuse to be had, no torture to endure, just the faint waft of a light breeze carrying the hunger-inducing smells from the bakery on the corner at the other end of the park. He watched a bright yellow butterfly riding that delicious smelling breeze to a point right next to him where it came to rest on mysterious black notebook. The notebook was black with an elastic band around it, was hard cover with a leather look wrap, and a large label in the middle reading “Moleskine: London City Notebook” with Mya written in script at the bottom. He looked around intensely; straining, twisting and turning trying to find any sign of who may have laid the notebook next to him.

After several minutes of looking around for anyone that would take credit for the odd gift, he looked down, saw the butterfly still sitting there facing him as if looking up at him. He slowly reached towards the notebook, trying not to scare off the butterfly. It stayed put on the notebook right up until Jalil lifted it to examine it closer. Only then did it finally fly up off of the notebook, creating one or two long, slow circles around the notebook before flying off to the nearest flowering bush further down the wall.

After the butterfly had cleared out, Jalil returned to inspecting the notebook and noticed it looked brand new with a pen affixed to the back of it via the elastic closure band. He removed the pen and noticed it had his name engraved on it. He began looking around again but still saw no one that he could thank or even ask why they would leave him something that would be much more appropriate for Mya. Finally, satisfied there wasn’t anybody to be found, he turned his attention back to the notebook and the engraved pen in his hand. He removed the closure strap and began to slowly open the notebook but as soon as he had opened it just a tiny bit an envelope fell out of it to the ground. He looked down with even more confusion. He stared down at the envelope for a solid minute trying to imagine what could possibly be contained within before finally reaching down, picking it up, and tearing it open. He was shocked when he saw it was full of $100 dollar bills, two neatly wrapped straps of them. He immediately knew, from his time spent as a cashier at that bakery on the corner, that he was holding $20,000 dollars. His mouth fell open and he was even more shocked than before. Who would leave so much money in a notebook next to him? Why would they do it and why would they not wait around for him to thank them?

Jalil sat there for several minutes trying to figure the mystery of all of this out. He had slid the envelope back into the notebook and still had not opened the notebook itself. He could not wrap his mind around it all, so he finally opened the notebook, removed the envelope, stuffing it into the front pocket of his jeans, and immediately noticed a small passage written on the first page. “Jalil, it is time you woke up and went somewhere that you can learn how to write your own story, Love Mya.” He threw the notebook down and immediately began sobbing again, this time out loud with no effort to hide his despair. He sobbed until he simply couldn’t anymore. He was out of breath, his chest hurt, and he was pretty sure his body was now completely out of fluids.

After finally regaining some semblance of composure, Jalil picked the notebook back up, opened it, re-read the passage, and this time it gave him a warm feeling, not unlike being hugged. He closed his eyes and would swear he felt Mya reach out, wrap him up in the most loving embrace, and whisper in his ear “get those stories out there Jalil, get those stories out there for all to read.” His heart soared, his spirits lifted, and he began leafing through the notebook only to notice the first half was filled with stories in Mya’s handwriting. Despite his confusion and disbelief, he knew what she meant and what she wanted him to do. He closed the notebook, wrapped the closure strap back around it, clenched it tightly in his hand and began to run back home.

Jalil arrived home, panting and sweating profusely, continuing his sprinters pace to his room where he opened his laptop and turned it on. He lay the notebook next to his laptop, pulled out his chair and sat down trying not to be impatient with his seemingly ancient laptop. He was bouncing his leg anxiously waiting for the operating system to boot up completely. When the system was ready, he opened the browser and immediately went to the website for Oxford University and began carefully applying to attend. He knew Mya wanted him to attend Oxford due to its amazing English Literature program; it’s the only way he could become the writer that she thought he was or would become. He also knew she would want him to start over somewhere far from where she had died, somewhere he could meet new people, explore new places, and see things he could eventually write about. The application process was very long and tiring but he did everything at once, applying for financial aid and scholarships as well.

Jalil checked the mail every day for the next two weeks, hoping each day to get an answer from Oxford. He was disappointed every day that there was nothing in the mailbox but the standard fare of advertisements and bills. He was growing worried that the longer it took to hear from the school that the less his chances were that he’d be accepted. He knew scholastically he should be fine as he carried a 3.9 GPA all through high school and done plenty of volunteer and community work, but it didn’t stop him from worrying jus the same.

When he wasn’t worrying about not getting accepted to Oxford, Jalil sat quietly in his room reading through the mysterious black notebook that was certainly the catalyst in his efforts to upend his life, move halfway across the world, and change educational disciplines completely. Mya had written every story he told her in the park in that notebook; each bringing back another memory of their time spent in the park doing what he thought was just talking and laughing. He had no idea she was writing it all down. He was nearing the end of the last story when there was a knock at the door. Jalil reluctantly put down the notebook and went downstairs to answer the door. It was the mailman needing a signature for a certified letter. Jalil excitedly signed for the letter and immediately tore open the envelope, removed the letter, and began reading it.

Dear Jalil,

We are happy to inform you that your application to attend the Oxford University English Literature program has been accepted. We are also happy to inform you that the scholarships you applied for have also approved and will cover all necessary school expenses for the entirety of your attendance. You will simply be responsible for $4,000 per year housing expense. We look forward to meeting you in person.

Sincerely,

Oxford University Admissions

Jalil couldn’t contain himself and hugged the mailman. “I’m going to Oxford” he happily explained to the startled mailman. After releasing the poor postal worker, he slammed the door behind him, ran upstairs, and sat down at his computer to begin planning his move to England. He stopped searching for flights and moving services just long enough to stare at the envelope full of cash that was going to make it all possible. He could pay for the move without a problem and once he arrived at school, could pay for his housing expenses right away.

A few weeks later came moving day. Everything he owned was packed into 3 large suitcases, including the new laptop he had purchased for school. As he exited the house, he had been renting for the past two years, he said goodbye, turned and got in the taxi that was awaiting him. He climbed in and let a huge smile come to his face. He still wasn’t sure how it all happened, but he was terribly thankful for that mysterious black notebook and the $20,000 it contained. A new life was waiting, and he was going to greet it with a smile and open arms.