You don’t spend your life at the bottom of the sea and not learn a thing or two so when that notebook drifted down and landed on my head I knew there was a reason for it. I could have sloughed it off and continued my usual antics, but even if I’m not the most absorbent creature on the planet, this book with “Please Return” written across its front cover was trying to tell me something, but what? My mind, pondering the unfathomable depths of possibility, suddenly felt an overpowering need to find the book’s owner and return it to them! I let out an audible “whoa” realizing that I may never have come to this conclusion had it not been for that black notebook landing on my head.
I first brought the notebook to a friend of mine to see if he may have some insight into whom it may belong. Unfortunately he proved to be of no help and could not be deterred from his plans of fishing for gelatinous umbrella shaped marine animals that day. I promised to join him in board games, a liquefied chocolate beverage and any other activities he favoured if he would join me in my pursuit, but he was distracted by something innocuous and, like his attention span before him, he drifted off.
Strange warbling cackles emanating from my next-door neighbour’s place caught my attention next. I investigated further and found my neighbour entangled with an elongated silver tube that was protesting loudly and in obvious pain. Once their struggle abated I called out to my victorious neighbour and got his attention. He returned my salutation, but with much less vigor than my own. I inquired with him as to his interest in joining me in returning to a grateful owner this black notebook that landed on my head, but he grumbled how he’d rather having himself lowered onto a pit of red hot sea urchins so I bid him good day and continued on my way.
Finding neither interest nor assistance from my boss, his mortal enemy across the street, my driving instructor or any of the random unnamed characters I passed, I decided to approach someone who would have as much interest in this mystery as I.
Fame and fortune had not been bestowed upon my friend, yet she lived a fish bowl existence anyway. I approached her place and through the glass I could see her busily tidying up as if company were expected. Calling out to her, I revealed the notebook in hopes of enticing her into joining my investigation. She waved a friendly hello and said she was busy and could not join me in this day’s exploits. Her parents were coming to visit and she wanted to make sure everything was ship shape.
Dejected, I slowly wandered off in no specific direction, dragging the black notebook behind me. For the rest of the day I found myself trudging through the motions of my life with much less of my accustomed enthusiasm. It seemed as if my life were suddenly taking place in small seemingly unconnected vignettes. A boat suddenly appears, then crashes and bursts into flames after narrowly missing me. A chunk from a structure falls and lands in the exact spot I had just vacated. A carpenter on a high scaffold swings a hammer, accidentally releasing said hammer to wit said hammer then lands squarely on my head with an audible “BONK!” before crumbling into tiny bits. I remain oblivious to all these things and am only made aware of them when I proof read this missive later in the day.
Resolved to never crack the riddle of the “Please Return” notebook, I saunter home to be with the one creature that never lets me down, my beloved pet. I make us both a delicious dinner and sit to watch the evening news. An ad for barnacle cream came on, but I pay little attention to it for I prefer Dead Sea bath salts and cinnamon flavoured kelp. I’m midway through the twenty seventh chew of my fifth bite of food when the newscaster says, “Nautical storm Pink Bubbly Snowflake has claimed yet another victim. The sea vessel known as the “Flying Dutchman” has had some items washed off its deck, including a black notebook. The notebook’s owner, Captain D. Jones is eager for its return. Captain Jones, who keeps some of his most prized possessions in that notebook, had this to say,”
“I keep some of me most prized possessions in that notebook.”
“When asked if he would like the notebook returned, Captain Jones replied,”
“I would like the notebook returned, the BLACK notebook with the words “PLEASE RETURN” on it… returned… please.”
“More details to follow.”
A missing black notebook! What an amazing story! I love a good treasure hunt, probably almost as much as the next person who loves a good treasure hunt as much as I love a good treasure hunt! I shoveled down the remains of my dinner with both hands, eager to get out there and find that missing notebook! Oh sure, the ocean is a vast place, but how hard could it be to find a missing notebook, especially a black one?
As I’m scrambling out the door something hits me, a black notebook swung lovingly at my face by my beloved pet. I noted that this black notebook was eerily reminiscent of the one on the news. I stopped for a moment and thought… did I leave the stove on? Then, for good measure, I thought… could this black notebook with the words “Please Return” on it be the same black notebook with the words “Please Return” on it that Captain Jones is looking for? It seemed unlikely, but I had to know for sure. I gently opened the notebook and there on the inside front cover were the words “Property of Captain Jones.”
“Yippee!” I found the notebook, the black “Please Return” notebook! In a moment of acute jubilation I raising the notebook above my head and started to perform a celebratory dance of both intricacy and grace. As I did so a small object fell out of the notebook and bounced off my head… and then another object fell out… and then another. Small shiny shapes began cascading out of the pages of the book, showering me with silvery circles. I became encased in a large, uniformly distributed pile of the book’s tiny disk shaped contents. My beloved pet made the astute observation that these silvery circles were actually “pieces of eight” and "doubloons” undoubtedly pilfered by Captain Jones and his nefarious crew. With only a preliminary count and a quick check of current market values, my beloved pet informed me that the pile equaled exactly $20,000 in today’s fluctuating silver bullion market.
I was so excited I could hardly move, nor was I able to move again for quite some time. At least not until my beloved pet was able to extract me from the pile several days later. It was a day (which ended up being closer to a week really) that I will never forget. A day that will remain etched in the recesses of the corners of my mind for as long as I live. A day that will last beyond the annals of time and reach farther into the future than anyone yet living has ever dreamt of contemplating!
I’m glad I remembered to turn off the stove.
About the Creator
Grimm Culhane
Grimm Culhane is a creative dynamo who believes life is something you devour! He has written extensively about comic books, sex toys, fictional holidays and celebrity wardrobe malfunctions. Previously he was co-owner of ABORT Magazine.
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