Little Black Book

Little Black Book

Dec.16, 2016 had started out like any other day for Henry. He'd worked late that night and when finally arriving at home had been surprised to see the house standing dark and quiet. He'd unlocked and opened the front door, stepped into the boot room. "Paula?" Henry had called out. Silence. He'd headed into the kitchen and that's where the note had been waiting. It had sat resting on the marble countertop and Henry had walked over and picked it up, unsuspecting, never guessing that his life was about to change.

Henry,

I'm leaving you. I've been unwell, I started seeing a psychiatrist a few months ago, Dr. Ricchi. Without her, I never would have had the courage to leave like this, to get the help I need. It’s for the best Henry, please trust me.

Paula.

And just like that, she had ended it.

Six months had passed since the note. Henry had been walking home from work and, as always, had been thinking of her. Of Paula. He couldn't seem to think of much else these days.

Then he'd spotted it, the little black book.

It had rested, apparently left behind, on the seat of a bench off to the side of the path he'd been walking along. Henry had picked it up. It was one of those nice Moleskine brand notebooks, Paula had kept a similar one at home, had used it to mark her appointments. Henry had run his fingers over the leathery front cover of the book. A quick flip through showed not a single pen mark marring the creamy pages.

So he had taken it. He'd hurried home and immediately brought the book into his office and set it on the polished surface of his desk. Henry had sat down in his office chair staring down at the book with its black, textured cover then he'd reached out and flipped it open to the first page.

Then he had sat back, surprised. There, at the top of the previously blank page, he was sure it had been blank, were written the words:

What Would You Like?

Henry had blinked his eyes furiously, but the words had not gone from the top of the page. Was he going crazy? What would I like? he'd thought. Well, the only thing I would like at the moment would be a nice, hot cuppa joe. Feeling silly, Henry had picked a pen up off his desktop and wrote, directly below the mysterious entry:

I would like a cup of coffee please.

He’d started to laugh at himself then, and that’s when Henry had first noticed it. His writing at the top of the creamy page of the notebook had began to shimmy, to fade and then, right before his eyes the words had completely disappeared.

Ding dong!

The sound of the doorbell ringing had blasted into the silence of Henrys’ study, had caused him to let out a shrill scream of terror before he'd realized what he was hearing. Henry had shaken himself, laughing nervously, man he was losing it and had opened his office door heading out into the hall towards the front door.

Ding dong!

He’d reached out to unlock and open the door. No one was there. Henry looked down. Sitting, steaming on the front step, was a cup of coffee. Henry, dazed, had reached down and picked it up, closed the front door and headed back to his office.

Once there, Henry had set the coffee down on the desk right beside the unassuming little black book. He’d carefully reached out and opened the cover of the book again. Henry had sat thinking a fluke it was a fluke it was nothing...and then had picked up the pen again and written:

I would like $20,000 deposited into my bank account please.

As before, Henry at first felt ridiculous writing the request into the notebook, but then had sat and watched while his written words first shook, then vanished off the page. Henry, a shiver run through his whole body, had abruptly stood up and left the room headed for bed.

He’d woken early the next morning, eyes snapping open. Rolling over and grabbing his cell phone off the nightstand, Henry quickly signed into his internet banking and...there it was, the $20,000 dollars. Deposited into his bank account late last night. Henry had been shocked, not been able to believe it. It had worked, the book had worked again. He could have anything he wanted! The whole world was his; wait until Paula....

Paula. He had to get her back. He remembered the note, what she had written...

Dr. Ricchi. Without her, I never would have had the courage to leave like this.

So he’d found her little book; she’d forgotten it, the one she had used to write down all her appointments, all her plans. Henry had opened it up and scanned through the pages until he found it.

September 8, Dr. Ricchi- first appointment 2 pm

Henry had gone into his office and sat down on the chair in front of his desk. There it was, his little black book, waiting for him. He opened the black, leathery cover and flipped to the first page.

What Would You Like?

The words blazed from the top of the page, beckoning. Henry had started to write...

I would like to go back to September 8th, 2016 please.

Henry had watched the words dance, fade and then disappear altogether. Then he had gone to bed and had been surprised at how easily sleep had come... When Henry had woken up and opened his eyes to the gloom of his bedroom, he'd had no idea what time it was. That was when he'd noticed. He wasn't alone; he had been able to hear the soft sound of someone breathing beside him. It was her, it was Paula. She was back; the book had delivered again. He'd gotten out of bed, making sure not to disturb her. He had to fix this, had to make her stay.

First, Henry had phoned Dr. Ricchi’s office and explained to her that Paula was not going to be able to keep her appointment that day. Then he'd decided to go out and pick them up some breakfast. Coming back into the house Henry had noticed the sound of the vacuum cleaner from inside. She was awake, good. He'd gone in the front door and had went searching for Paula, and had found her in the front living room, just switching the vacuum off.

"Paula." He'd started. Paula had shrieked and spun around to face him, had dropped the vacuum, held her hands up in front of her chest. "Jeez sorry Paula, I thought you knew I hadn't gone to work this morning. I got us coffees and something to eat, hope you're hungry!"

Paula had stared back at him. "What are you doing here?" She'd asked. "Aren't you supposed to be at work?" His wife had still had her arms held up in front of her chest, like she was warding something away. Him? "I called in today babe," he explained. "I thought we could spend the day together like old times." He'd expected her to brighten up at that, she'd always loved it when he would stay home with her before, play hooky to lay in bed all day and make love and laugh together. Henry realized that he couldn't even remember the last time that they had done it.

She hadn't reacted the way Henry had expected though. "I'm busy today." She'd said, and had started to turn away from him. Henry had started to feel angry then, Paula had always been so entitled, so ungrateful. "I cancelled your appointment." The words had burst out of him before he'd been able to stop himself, she'd instantly spun back towards him. "I saw it in your day planner, I don't want you going to see that woman, nothing but bad things will come out of it."

For a moment she'd seemed about to come alive, then Henry had watched her slowly deflate. The anger had drained out of her eyes to be replaced with a horrible blankness. She hadn't said anything, had just started to turn away from him. "Oh and Paula?" He'd continued. "I know what you've been thinking, I know you think things are bad right now".

Had to do it, had to stop her from going, from leaving the note again.

"But Paula, no matter how bad you're feeling right now, it will be nothing compared to how things could be if you ever tried to leave me." Henry had paused to let that sink in. Paula had stood stock still for a moment, then she'd slightly nodded her head, eyes vacant, and had turned to leave the room. He'd heard the slight click of their bedroom door latching, then the spray of the shower turning on in their ensuite.

Dec. 16, 2016

Today was finally the day. It was the day that Paula would have written the note. Henry had felt strangely uneasy all morning, so had decided to stay home, just in case. Henry was sitting in his office waiting for the time to pass. He had the little black book laying open on his desk in front of him. He hadn't seen Paula at all. She had become very quiet lately, unconfrontational. He remembered the fiery, confident woman she had been when he'd first met her and suddenly felt a surprising twinge of regret. She really had been the love of his life at the time.

Henry found that he couldn't hardly stand to be alone in the house with Paula; his wife had become like a stranger to him. He hadn't noticed before how neurotic, how odd she was becoming. Henry would never admit to himself that the reason he hadn't noticed his wife's creeping neurosis was that he hadn't even bothered to notice his wife for the past couple years. She'd become a fixture in his life, one he hadn't paid much attention to.

Now he felt that he would give anything to have his beautiful little firecracker back. If only they could go back...suddenly Henry had an idea.

He picked up his pen from where he'd left it beside the open notebook, he began to write...and that's when he heard the noise.

CLICK!

It went off like a gunshot in the peaceful tranquility of his private office. Henry was badly startled, the pen dropped from his spasming fingers. All at once he realized what the sound had been (the door latch) just as he heard the familiar, groaning creak of his office door swinging open. He spun his chair around and then he saw her. It was his wife, Paula.

"Paula" he started. "Paula what are you doing coming in here like this. I'm busy right now, you know I don't like it..." His voice trailed off, she'd taken a step further into the room, a small, determined step.

And then he could see it, what she had in her hand.

It was a gun, she was holding his handgun loosely in her right hand, the one she'd gotten him for Christmas a couple years back. Henry sucked in a deep whistling breath, ready to scream, ready to do something.

Paula, eyes cold, raised the gun and fired.