Broken Branches

Broken Branches: The Ledger

This could not be real. That money though. She needed that money. She had to go on. A deal is a deal, her sister would say. Anna slammed the half-glass of Chardonnay and turned the page.

* * *

Great. She had broken her grandmother’s favorite tea kettle. She could almost hear her shouting obscenities from the heavens (surely that’s where she was-hell couldn’t handle Grace Matherson). “It’s in our family tree, honey. You’re as clumsy as your uncle Eddie. Clumsy and careless, just like your grandad,” she would say.

Anna was just getting warmed up. She had broken the nail on her little toe when her left foot slammed into the bedframe. She had broken the key to her apartment when it had jammed in the lock and snapped in two, which meant that she had broken her latest promise to her boss to be on time for work. Chuck the maintenance guy would be poking fun at her like usual. “I think we’re married, sweetheart. I’m Mister Maintenance, and you’re High Maintenance” he would say, followed by that ever-so-annoying chuckle. Chuck the chuckler, she mused. That would be a lot funnier on another day. Oh, and she also broke Jimmy Benning’s heart this morning. That one gave her a bit of satisfaction.

Mondays had been living up to their unforgiving reputation of late. Last week started with a two-thousand-dollar car repair bill (from the previous Monday’s blown transmission) and ended with some idiot in a Murph’s Pastries truck running a red light and hitting her head on. Another two weeks of riding that filthy smelly public transportation. Today’s mishaps seemed trivial in comparison, but it was more than she could take. She had nothing left, in her financial or emotional accounts. It occurred to her that she was as poor as most of the people on that bus. One more disaster and she might just find herself living under the eighth street bridge with some of them. What else could go wrong? Anna stepped off the bus and walked down thirty-ninth street toward her apartment. She hoped old chucklin’ Chuck would be gone by now. She had purposely taken her time finishing up at the office in hopes of avoiding an encounter, but it was inevitable. He would catch her eventually; but she was not up to it today. There was absolutely no way that-

“Well, if it isn’t our resident destroyer of all things! Good day, Miss Anna!”

“Not today, Chuck. Please tell me you fixed the door.”

“Course I fixed it. Have I ever not fixed something around here? Oh, your new key, Miss Anna. How many is that now? I think that’s number--“

“Never mind!” Anna ripped the key from his grip. Chuck smiled.

“Remember, I’m Mister Maintenance. That reminds me,”

“Wipe that grin right off your face! We are not married, I am not “High Maintenance,” and we are NOT having this conversation!”

“Whoa there, Miss Anna. I didn’t mean to fluff your feathers. I was just messin’ like I always do.” Chuck looked at her like a scolded puppy. He had not done that before.

“Listen Chuck, I’m sorry. It’s been a horrible day. I didn’t mean--“

“You fell for the old sad eyes! I can’t believe that worked!” Chuck chuckled his way down the hall as Anna marched into her apartment and slammed the door. The nerve of that guy. She tries to be nice one time, and he pulls a stunt like that. Well, this would be the last time-

Anna’s thoughts shifted to the lampstand in her entryway. She rarely left anything setting on it, save for an occasional piece of junk mail. She gazed at the object with curiosity. This must be one of Chuck’s gags. He had never left anything inside of her apartment before. Anna picked up the little black notebook and read the gold lettering on its front: “Your troubles are over, Anna Holdin.”

This is ridiculous. What the hell kind of crazy scheme was this? Chuck had reached a new low. Did he really think she was going to fall for this? Still, she was curious. How elaborate was his little prank? Anna sighed and smiled as she opened the ledger:

Prologue

Welcome, Anna. Would five thousand dollars help you? Read on.

Anna’s eyes scrolled the blank page until she reached the bottom.

Call Jimmy Benning. Tell him it’s over.

* * *

Anna gazed at the hundreds that sat next to her on the sofa. What was happening? Fifty c-notes cannot just fall out of the sky, but here they were. And all because she had done what the little notebook had said. Five thousand bucks just for telling Jimmy off again. Easy money. She must have had too much Chardonnay and passed out. That was it. Her phone startled her from her thoughts. Jimmy. What the hell does he want? She had made herself clear.

“What do you want Jimmy?”

“Anna! I love you. I always will.” A loud shot rang out.

“Jimmy? Jimmy!” Silence.

* * *

Anna, would ten thousand dollars fix your life? Read on.

Wait, what? Ten thousand dollars? No. This was getting insane. Had Jimmy really shot himself? Had she caused it? What was happening right now? She wanted to put the ledger down. Put it down, Anna. Call the police. Go to Jimmy’s. Go to bed. Do something besides look at that book, she thought. She sighed and turned to page two.

Time to get even with Chuck. His fun time is over.

The words were something she had thought of many times, but now they felt ominous. Everything felt wrong. A chill sped down Anna’s back as the ledger regained her attention.

Pull the alarm, Anna.

Anna peeked down the hallway and eyed the fire alarm. She took a second look to make sure no one was around. She ran and pulled the handle and scurried back into her apartment.

* * *

“Miss Anna! Miss Anna! Hurry! There’s a fire!” Anna opened the door to find Chuck gasping as he waved wildly toward the hallway exit.

“Chuck, calm down. There’s no fire. It was just a gag. How does it feel to have one pulled on you?”

“C’mon Miss Anna! We have to go!” Chuck extended his left hand toward her. His eyes widened as he let out a groan and grasped at his chest with his right hand. He fell into her entry way with a thud. His face was frozen. She thought of doing CPR. She thought of dialing 9-1-1. There was no point. Chuck was dead. Of course he was dead. That stupid little book. His fun time is over. Damn that book!

Anna chugged her Chardonnay and poured another glass with trembling hands. This was insane. She had to stop. The chaos of shouting tenants and quickly approaching sirens was secondary as she stared at the corpse. Oh, and the pile of hundred-dollar bills that now covered her sofa. One hundred of them, no doubt. More money than she had ever seen, yet she cried to the heavens, wishing she hadn’t turned the page.

Well done, Anna Holdin. Turn to page three for your final task.

No turning back now, Anna thought. Reason and morality were numb from the ledger’s sting. Anna turned the page.

Call the one dearest to you. Tell them of this book. Finish the chapter, Anna. A deal is a deal.

She couldn’t. Her sister was her best friend, the only one that put up with her shallow and insensitive nature. Probably because Sonya was the master of crude and egotistical behavior. She had taught Anna everything, whether she knew it or not.

Anna knew she had to do it. She had to be done with this evil little book. She picked up her phone and scrolled to her sister’s name.

“What the hell, Anna! It’s almost midnight!” Anna couldn’t speak. She couldn’t, until something within her forced out the words.

“The little black book is yours now, Sonya.”

“What the hell are you talking about? Anna, are you drunk? Are those sirens? Anna, what is going on? Stop being an idiot and say something!”

Anna pressed the “end” button.

* * *

“Anybody in there? Hello? Fire! Please evacuate immediately!” The pounding intensified. They were going to break the door down. Anna grabbed the ledger and stuffed as many bills into her shirt and pockets as she could and rushed toward her bedroom. Smoke filled the room. She hadn’t seen or smelled any smoke in her living room. How could there be an actual fire? She had pulled the alarm to prank Chuck. There was no real fire…

“IS THERE ANYONE HERE?”

They were in her apartment. She heard pieces of conversation and the static of radios as the firefighters communicated. Why was she hiding from them? They were here to save her. Anna tried to walk toward the bedroom door, but her feet would not budge. She tried to cry out to the rescue workers, but not a sound left her. Flames began to consume the east wall, and then the west. Her nightstand crackled and collapsed in the inferno, followed by her dresser. She looked toward the doors to her balcony. That was her last hope. She turned her head, but her body did not follow. The money. She desperately reached into her blouse and into the pockets of her jeans. Her hands emerged with only the small black book. The world spun around her with increasing velocity. Anna fell to the floor.

* * *

Her eyes were all that remained. Anna felt nothing. She heard nothing. The burning in her limbs ceased. The screaming of parents desperate to find their children stopped. Her vision was fading fast. The wind opened the French doors that led to the balcony and provided her a last vision as the ledger turned to page four:

Epilogue

Anna Holdin, your books are balanced.

She looked at the last of the text and saw writing that was hauntingly familiar.

I’m sorry, dear. It’s in the family tree. I love you.

---Grace Matherson, author

The smoke invaded Anna’s lungs as she faded into darkness with a shallow gasp.