Little Black Book

I ride the dragon Griselda home from a battle where we conquered the Kingdom of Trolls. I need sustenance and sleep. Now we are flying through a thick fog, and the last time we flew through fog the ground appeared out of nowhere and I was nearly dismounted, on purpose I suspected, when she hit the ground. I see light this time instead of the ground and she lands with a thump and I go flying. When I open my eyes after hitting the ground the dragon is nowhere to be seen. I hate it when she does this. As my eyes take in these new surroundings I see a small black object sitting on a nightstand.

The dragon is real and so is the nightstand as my mind sits between the two worlds of dream and awake. I like inhabiting both realms at the same time and try each time to stay. It is delicious to feel these worlds as real at the same time. They meet on the road and smile at one another, each my friend and I like it when they recognize and see one another.

The fog is gone and the black on my nightstand is now into focus as a small book. A little black book. I wonder if there are contact names for other dragons that I could meet. The one I have is so mischievous and a steadier team member would be nice. I smile at this thought knowing the book will have no names of dragons in it. As more neurons begin to fire, I remember my aunt Clare giving me the book and asking me to keep it safe. I live alone so the nightstand seemed like a safe enough place. I haven’t been curious about the book’s contents to look at it yet, despite it being there for two weeks.

Last night my sister Jane phoned to tell me that our aunt died in her sleep. I hear the telephone ring and get up to answer another call from my sister. This time, her voice is high pitched, and she is in some self-imposed contest or other to see if she can match the speed of light with her voice, rather than the pitch and speed of Eeyore when she told me about Clare’s death. After slowing down to the speed of sound, I find out that our aunt’s large house has been ransacked. None of her expensive paintings, antique furniture, insured jewels, or even the cash in her hidden drawer under her bed are missing.

“It’s the oddest thing John, the police found a note in the hidden drawer saying, ‘You won’t find it’. Isn’t that strange?”

I hang up and look at the black book sitting on my nightstand. I pick it up and the phone rings again. This time it is Aunt Clare’s lawyer asking if we could meet her tomorrow. She offered her condolences and said she had strict instructions to meet with Jane and I as soon as possible after Clare died. We made an appointment for 9:00 a.m. the next morning. I hung up and looked back at the black book in my hand. The nightstand does not feel so safe anymore. It was time to open a safety deposit box.

I woke the next morning without the time between two world and at 9:00 a.m. the lawyer Anna sits behind her desk across from Jane and me. She wasted no time and came right to the point. I could see why Clare chose her, they had similar personalities. We were the only family Clare had and she left the large house, small mansion if you will, to Jane and I inherited the monies in her bank account, an amount of over two million dollars. Speech eluded me. I looked over at Jane, who was sitting there open mouthed, and I looked back at the lawyer. I felt my voice rising from my diaphragm and before I could speak Anna went on.

“The house goes to Jane but not its contents. There is an itemized list of her possessions, a very long list too, and who is to receive each of these items. I am to contact each of these parties and inform them of their gift. Clare said to give you each a list of who receives her possessions and advised each of you to leave that to me.”

Anna handed us each a copy of the six pages of items and names attached to each item. I knew none of the people on the first page. My scanning was interrupted by the sound of Anna’s voice.

“There was one more thing before we end our time here.”

Clear and concise was Miss Anna.

“John, Clare asked me to tell you to look after Josephine.”

The complete confusion on my face must have penetrated the business exterior.

“Clare did not give me any information about who Josephine was or where she could be found. She simply stressed it was very important that you look after her. Clare refused to give me any more information on Josephine. The will is straightforward and should go through probate quickly. Jane you should be able to move into or sell your aunt’s house soon and I should have a cheque for you in the next three months for the monies in her accounts. If you have any further questions on these two matters, please feel free to contact me. I cannot provide you with any information on questions about Josephine.”

That’s aunt Clare. She loved puzzles, to puzzle others and the only thing she loved more than that was for you to sort it out. For our birthdays we would receive a card with a riddle that led to the next card with another riddle and eventually to our gift. The number of cards matched how old we were that year beginning at age eight and ending when we turned 15. Who was Josephine?

During a late breakfast after the meeting with Anna, that question was rattling around in our minds. We poured through the list of people who were to be gifted her valuable possessions. There was no Josephine, no Joanne, no Joseph or even a Joe on that list. How do I take care of someone I have no information on?

I looked again at the list and wondered if any of these people knew Josephine. Anna had made it clear Jane and I were not to bother with dispensing of the household contents, and nothing was said about not contacting the people on the list. It would take some time and effort to find out where they were, contact them and see if any of them knew Josephine or her whereabouts.

**

I woke to the sound of the telephone. This time the dragon landed softly just before the sound of ringing shortened my time between the two worlds.

“Hello John, its Anna. The probate has cleared, and I have a cheque for you here in my office. Are you available to come in tomorrow at 10:00 a.m.? That is the same time your sister is coming in to sign papers to take ownership of the house and I wanted to kill two birds with one stone.”

I replied yes and told her I would see her tomorrow. When I looked at the Calendar it had been exactly three months to the day when Jane and I had visited her office to hear of our inheritance and to acquire the strange list of people who were gifted her household possessions. Miss Anna was precise; Aunt Clare would have liked that.

I had found contact information on about half of the people and of those I was able to communicate with many claimed the person I was seeking was dead. I chalked this up to them being the same generation as my elderly aunt. Others did not return my overtures, and some hung up on me when I mentioned Josephine. I wondered how Anna made out with going through the list.

“Its nice to see you this morning”, said Anna,” wrap up this part of your aunt’s will, and change lives at the same time. What are you plans for what you are getting today?”

Jane had packed up most of her belongings and had found people to rent out 7 of the 10 bedrooms in her new ‘house’. I told them I was going to think about what to do with money for awhile and then asked Anna whether she had disposed of the household possessions. Her facial muscles resisted the urge to grimace and instead forced themselves into a cheerful smile. When she spoke the tone of her voice was under the influence of an artic wind gone through a smelting fire.

I cannot share that information was her reply and she took back the papers Jane had signed before handing her a set of keys. Anna held her hand to retrieve the receipt she had given me to sign and once in her hand she gave me an envelope sitting on her desk.

“If there are no other questions, we are finished today,” she said.

Jane and I headed for an early lunch to celebrate our new lives. One of our favourite topics after dreaming of what we are going to do is to wonder about the character of Josephine. I shared the stories I had about people on the list hanging up when I mentioned her name and that led me to believe she was real rather than symbolic and alive rather than dead. Aunt Clare could be sneaky with her riddles and loved to include mythical or historical figures in her clues. Jane wondered who was taking care of Josephine now since I could not find her and fulfill Aunt Clare’s request. Was she a child or invalid or perhaps mentally deficient? Aunt Clare had a soft spot for those with less natural endowments than herself and was known to donate to organizations that helped people with a disadvantage. We ended our chat with plans to get together weekly.

I unlocked the door to my apartment building and was nearly run over by a man running out the door. When I stepped through the door to my place it looked like a tornado had conjured itself and burnt out all in the same place. Everything was everywhere. I called Jane while I waited for the police to make certain she was alright. The police left, leaving me the task of sorting out if anything was missing while cleaning up the mess. I walked into the bedroom and when I saw the nightstand I thought of the little black book I had put into a safety deposit box. I was in such a hurry to put it somewhere safe I had not even opened it. I made an appointment to visit the deposit box and look closely at the book I was given.

The black dragon I was riding landed softly and while I dismounted the fog collected into a wall of white. I walked toward a distant gong while the fog became mist and the gong sounded more like an alarm clock. The two worlds did not want to play today.

The car wipers can hardly keep the rain off my windshield, and I got a spot by the door of the bank. I took out the little black book and opened the front cover. I read the inscription: “This book belongs to Josephine Brandt”. The rest of the book was blank.

Josephine is taken care of Aunt Clare.