Lola Lost

Lola let out a deep sigh and stared out across the sea to the setting sun. She wondered where the sun was off to next once it dropped away over the horizon.

She wished she could follow the sun and go somewhere else. Somewhere not surrounded by rubbish and noisy cars. Somewhere where the other kids where more kind and didn’t call her “Lola Lost.” She had only ever lived in the city.

Her thoughts broke upon the screech of tyres behind her.

“Hey Lola looooost, Ma says get home now and pick up some milk on the way back”, her older brother, Isaac yelled. He threw some coins at her and shot off on his bike. Laughing with his friends.

“Why couldn’t you do it?!” Lola screamed back, but it was no use. He had already cycled away.

Lola stomped around angrily, picking up the change. Then went off to get milk.

Lola entered the red corner store near her house. She was always sure to be quick in the red corner store and she always kept her eyes down to the tiled floor as she made her way around. The store was owned by Mr Kaplan. He was a tall man and cold. He never spoke except for a grunt but it was his eyes that most scared Lola. Hard, far-away eyes that followed your every move. Even Lola’s mother told her to be careful around him.

Lola took her milk up to the counter and passed Mr Kaplan the money. She waited for her change. She waited and nothing happened. Lola looked up slowly. Mr Kaplan’s hard eyes looked right back.

“Excuse me sir… my change… my change please” whispered Lola.

“Arrgh” A short grunt and a nod towards the door was his response.

Lola’s anger burst straight through her fear.

“Excuse me sir, we don’t have a lot of money, please GIVE ME MY CHANGE!” Lola held the gaze of the cold, hard eyes. Secretly terrified. The silence pressed on and she thought that any second he would explode and chase her away.

The clanging of change on the counter finally ended the tension. Lola quickly plucked up the few coins and hurried out of the store. She stepped out into the street and her brave face vanished. She vowed she would never go in that store again. Lola cried. She really was very scared of Mr Kaplan.

As she made her way home through the bustling streets, tears rolled down Lola’s face. She stepped around dark puddles, she was careful of the traffic and dodged the other frantic pedestrians. The tears kept coming all the way home.

The moment before she entered her family’s building that she noticed something. A street stall that she had never seen before. Brimming with books of every colour, like a coral reef. Lola loved books. They were her friends. Books and the sea.

Almost subconsciously Lola began to rifle through the different books. She made sure to read the words on the back or inside as she had been told not to judge a book by its cover. She opened bright blue book, a then a lime green one, then, she stopped. On the edge of the stall, by itself, was a little black book.

It felt both new and familiar in Lola’s hands. It had an elastic strap fixing it closed and ribbon bookmark extending from within. Lola opened the little black book to the bookmarked page and the noisy city fell silent around her. It was a journal; Lola had never read a book written by hand before. It was the writings of a young man from years gone by, explaining each day he lived, as he travelled around the world, just like the setting sun.

“You like the book?” said the stall owner. Getting a fright, Lola snapped the little black book shut. The stall owner was a woman, wearing a dress of many colours, just like her books. Lola hadn’t even noticed her amongst them all.

“Yes ma’am” replied Lola.

“Take another look… the words don’t show themselves to everyone” the colourful bookseller said knowingly.

Lola opened the book again and was shocked. It was still a journal, still written in hand but it was not the same journal she was reading only seconds before. The last writers’ entries were gone entirely. As she read, Lola realised that it was now the wistful journal of an artist, again from a long time ago. The words were broken up on the page with pretty, little sketches. Sometimes relating to the writing, sometimes not. Lola felt a serene sadness reading these entries.

“I’ve only got this much” said Lola, holding out her last few coins to the book seller hopefully. She had never known such a treasure.

“It’s not really for sale…” the woman paused then, she smiled.

“Y’know what? You keep it, I have a feeling you need it more than me.”

Lola read the little black book every day. Years went by and she never stopped learning from the book. She would sit up in her room or spot where the city meets the sea and she would get lost in its pages.

Just like the first time, when Lola would close the book and reopen it she would find a different person’s writing lain out on the page. Always someone from the past. Some people’s journals would only appear in the book once or twice, others many times. Occasionally, there would be no writing in the little black book at all. Lola could never work out why that sometimes happened, but she was never worried.

As Lola grew, she read the thoughts of great achievers and learnt that you should always try you best at everything. One of the journal writers of the little black book had written “excellence is not an act, but a habit.”

She read the thoughts of a guitarist who explained why learning itself is so beautiful “because nobody can take it away from you.”

More time passed and Lola read about a nurse who cared for people in a city by the sea much like her own. Lola decided that she would always try to be caring. Even to her brother, Isaac, who was nicer to her in return.

Lola read the diaries a martial artist who was passionate about everything. He danced, he laughed, he thought deeply. She agreed that life was a gift and decided to live each day fully.

Lola learnt many things from the diaries in the little black book. She read it and learned with it through her teenage years and her family all agreed that she was a very capable and kind young woman.

However, at times, Lola still did feel a little lost. She’d spent so long reading about the adventures of others she worried that her own life was slipping away without knowing which direction she should go in. There was so much to do but how could she know which path was hers?

One evening, Lola was sitting on her favourite spot by the sea reading the little black book searching for some guidance. She was reading the words of a drunken poet talking about the moon rolling over his roof and falling behind his house. Lola closed the book and reopened it ready for some fresh perspective from another diary writer. She was just about to start reading when a familiar sound sent a shiver down her spine.

“Arrgh” the short grunt made her whip around. She was face to face with Mr Kaplan. Lola felt the coldness creep over her.

“The book” Mr Kaplan uttered in a calculating tone.

“That’s a magic book” He continued. His hard eyes narrowed.

Lola felt just as she had all those years before. She had never heard Mr Kaplan speak. It was like hearing the voice of some silent creature of the night. Unnatural.

Lola closed the little black book and hurried off down the street. She knew Mr Kaplan was following her. Every now and then she heard him shuffling behind her and saying “that magic book.”

Lola zipped through the streets. Through the crowds of people, past bikes, dogwalkers and traffic. She was nearly home when Mr Kaplan made his move.

He grabbed her shoulder, gripping hard. He had a wiry strength in his hands, and it hurt her.

“Give me that book now!” Mr Kaplan croaked.

“It’s not for sale” Lola winced.

“$500, $5000! How much?!” he said desperately crushing her shoulder more.

People in the street began to stop and pay attention.

“$15,000? $20,000??” He escalated the price. Gritting his teeth.

Lola saw his eyes wide for the first time.

Mr Kaplan then reached into his pocket. “Is he going for a knife?” Lola thought to herself. She was scared for her life, but she stared him down. Just like she had as a little girl.

“Here!” Mr Kaplan hissed. He pulled out a thick wad of notes and pressed it into Lola’s hand while simultaneously ripping the little black book away from her.

“GET AWAY FROM MY SISTER” Isaac roared, as he came charging out from the crowd that had gathered.

Mr Kaplan barely noticed. He was madly opening and closing the little black book looking for the words. None appeared. The pages stayed empty.

“You cheat! How? What have you done?!” Mr Kaplan sneered, turning to face Lola.

“Get away from my sister” Isaac repeated strongly. Standing between Lola and the hard eyed man.

Mr Kaplan scanned the scene around him. Isaac was a bigger than he was. The crowd that surrounded them was not on his side. He could feel it. He threw the little black book down to the dirty ground, landing at the feet of a scruffy young boy. He then scuttled off back to his red corner store.

“I never want to see you again!” Isaac yelled after him.

Lola was in shock and had a lot of pain in her shoulder. She walked home with her brother. They were so close considering how mean they had been to each other as children.

Later, at their family appartement, Lola considered what to do with the money. Twenty thousand dollars in total.

She asked Isaac.

“Lola, you’re the most kind, creative person I know. You’ve always made the family proud and you’ve always tried to teach and share ideas with the people around you. For years you’ve wanted to travel or study more and now you have that chance. Go see the world, learn about it, help people.” Isaac said.

Lola sat in silence for a long time. Being without the little black book, she felt like she had lost a friend. She wondered what would happen to it, where it was.

Finally, she resolved to take her brothers advice and she booked a ticket to another country. She was going to travel around the world like the setting sun!

The next day Lola was sitting at the bus stop waiting to go to the airport. After a happy and tearful goodbye to her family and she was writing in a brand-new black journal. She had decided to start journaling herself.

A scruffy little boy came and stood in front of her. Lola looked up.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

The boy lifted the magic little black book. Handing it to her.

Lola couldn’t believe it. She thought it was gone forever. She turned the book over in her hands. It still felt both new and familiar, like the first time she had picked it up.

“Did you read it?” Lola asked the boy, “the words don’t appear to everyone you know?”

“Yes miss” the scruffy boy responded nervously as the bus pulled up to the stop.

“Y’know what? You keep it, I have a feeling you need it more than me.” Lola said, laughing and feeling not at all lost.