The Black Notebook

Elton was walking home from his late shift at the Supermart. Taking a short cut, he turned off the main road onto a street comprising a row of body shops and a scrap yard. This stretch of deserted, potholed bitumen was sketchy at night, he’d had a few close calls in the past, but it cut his trip by ten minutes. There weren’t usually any cars parked on the street at this time, apart from dumped offerings to the god of thieves, their blacken skeletons silent in the dead of night. That’s why the red BMW, parked under one of the sparse streetlights drew his attention.

As he approached, he could see a man struggling with a tyre iron, the spare tyre beside him. He looked up at Elton. “Hey kid, can you give me a hand here?” Elton’s pulse raced, should he help or run? In this street bad things happened at night. He looked at the man, he was average in build and looks, his bald head shone in the streetlight, he didn’t seem too menacing. Elton noticed the stranger’s left hand, it was closed like the foot of dead bird. Elton took a deep breath and went over. “Thanks kid, can you loosen the nuts for me?”

“Yeah sure.” Elton replied grabbing the tyre iron offered to him, the handle was slick with blood. “It’s okay kid, I haven’t got aids or anything, I’m injured. I was on my way to the hospital, lousy tyre burst on me at the worst possible time.”

“You okay, should I call an ambulance?” Elton said cautiously.

“It’s nothing, just a cut, long story.”

Elton loosened the nuts on the wheel and jacked up the car, the man retreated to let him work. He noticed dark spots of liquid around the flat tyre where the man had been bleeding. A few minutes later he put the flat into the boot and slammed the door down. That’s when he noticed the bullet hole in the rear windscreen, that and the man was suddenly standing right in front of him by the passenger door. Elton’s mind went into overdrive, what the hell, is this guy, a mobster or something, is he going whack me right here? “That’s nothing to worry about kid, look, thanks for your help. I need you to do me one more favour, can you do that?”

“Look sir, I helped you out, I don’t want to get involved or anything, I’ll just go, we never met, okay?” Elton’s voice sounded pleading and pathetic.

“Kid, if I was going to do anything to you, I wouldn’t be doing a song and dance number, I’d have just shot you. Just do me a favour alright. Here, take this notebook.” The stranger handed him a small black notebook. Elton recoiled from it as if the man had handed him a viper. “Come on kid, Take it!”

“No sir. I’m good, I’ll, I’ll, just get going.”

“Look, don’t go anywhere, I’ll sweeten the deal. Stay right here kid.” The man opened the back passenger door, a large, bulky manilla envelope was on the passenger seat. He slipped the notebook inside and handing it over to Elton he said. “Kid, will you stop shaking, you’re making me nervous! Take the damn envelope, it’s full of cash, I got to bounce. Have we got a deal kid? Will you take the notebook freely without making a fuss?” Elton grabbed the envelope and ran like the devil was chasing him. He heard the stranger calling out behind him. “Run Forest, run!”

Elton ran the three blocks home to the granny flat he rented from his aunt and uncle. Entering, he dropped down onto the futon and caught his breath. He opened the envelope, tipping the notebook and several wads of cash onto the carpet. Elton let fly some choice profanities in surprise. He snatched up the bills and with trembling hands, started counting. Twenty thousand dollars in one-hundred-dollar notes. That’s more money than I’m ever likely to see in my life he thought. He jumped up and down in excitement, a wad of cash in each hand, he didn’t shout, not wanting to wake anyone up. Sitting down, he enthusiastically started making plans on how to spend it, lost in the moment, he forgot how he got the money or about any consequences.

The small notebook on the floor caught his eye, the item the stranger had first tried to give him. His curiosity aroused, he picked it up, the black, slightly warn buckram cover was warm to the touch. He opened it, on the front page, in black, neat cursive, were the words, ‘Book of Wishes’. That’s weird, he thought as he turned the first page. Written in blue ink, in capital letters was, ‘I WANT MY MORTGAGE PAID OFF.’ On the second half of the page, ‘I WANT TEN MILLION DOLLARS IN MY BANK ACCOUNT.’ He flipped to the third page. ‘I WANT MY WIFE TO DIE IN AN ACCIDENT.’ Wow, that got dark quickly he thought. He kept reading. ‘I WANT A GIRLFRIEND THAT LOOKS LIKE TAYLOR SWIFT.’ Reasonable request agreed Elton, I’m more an Emma Stone man myself. He read on. ‘I WANT TO LOOK LIKE BRAD PITT.’ He thumbed through a couple more pages. ‘I WANT A MAN CALLED STEVE DRESSED IN A BATMAN COSTUME, CARRYING A KOALA IN ONE ARM, HOLDING A TRAY OF WARM BROWNIES, TO RING MY DOORBELL.’ That’s oddly specific, Elton thought chuckling to himself. He kept reading. ‘I WANT FIFTY MILLION DOLLARS IN MY BANK ACCOUNT.’ ‘I WANT A GORGEOUS, INTERESTING MAN TO LOVE ME.’ Each page had demands, most about money, all in different handwriting. Some were rank with depravity, making his skin crawl. There were lots of entries wishing certain people dead, crippled or bankrupt. What the hell kind of book is this he thought? When he reached past the middle of the book, an entry caught his eye. ‘I WANT A RED BMW M4, WITH TAN LEATHER INTERIOR, ALL THE FEATURES, THAT NEVER RUNS OUT OF FUEL.’ Now Elton had not noticed the fuel gauge, but the stranger had a red BMW M4 with a tan leather interior. Was this some elaborate practical joke? Should I be looking around for hidden cameras? He wondered. Alright, I’ll play along he said to himself grabbing a pen and writing, ‘I WANT TO GET A KNOCK AT MY DOOR WITH SOMEONE DELIVERING ME A LARGE PIZZA WITH THE LOT AND A TWO LITRE BOTTLE OF ICY COLD COKE.’ He had just finished writing when there was a knock on the door. Am I being paranoid? Elton asked himself. There was another knock. That’s definitely a knock, he grabbed his hockey stick and opened the door a crack. At his door was a youth, pizza box in hand, a large bottle of coke in the other, its flanks dripping with icy cold condensation. The youth, whose features were obscured by shadow, spoke. “Do you accept this pizza with the lot and icy cold Coke as fulfillment of your request in the Book of Wishes, doing so acknowledging your responsibility to commit to said wish?” Elton dropped the stick and opened the door, the youth’s question had put him on the back foot. “What? I guess so?”

“I’ll need a yes or no answer.” Insisted the delivery boy.

“Uh, okay, yes.” Elton replied under the spell of the pizza’s delicious aroma.

“Great, enjoy your pizza with the lot and icy cold Coke.” The delivery boy said handing them to Elton and disappearing into the night.

“Can’t argue with pizza.” A stunned Elton said setting the box down on the futon. He took a large bite out of the slice and picked up the notebook, and pen. Setting his slice down, he opened the book to write his next entry, his thumb stained the top left corner of the page with pizza grease. Searching for inspiration, a notion crept into his head, a nagging little nanny of a thought. Why was that man so keen to give up the book if it grants wishes? Why was he injured, was it a result of having the notebook? Does that sound like a satisfied customer? I already have twenty grand, why risk it? “Dammit! Thanks wet blanket.” Elton said to himself.

Then another thought insinuated itself, so what? What do I have going on that will seriously be impaired by writing in this stupid book? Crap job, no prospects, no girlfriend, no motivation, twenty grand won’t last forever. I’m skinny, ugly, everything I wear looks baggy on me. I have absolutely no reason to get up in the morning. So, what have I got to lose? He tapped a beat on the page, pondering his next move. ‘I WANT TO BE A RICH AND FAMOUS ROCK STAR, I WANT TO BE HANDSOME, COOL HAIR, COOL TATTOOS AND PLAY GUITAR LIKE JIMI HENDRIX.’ That covers everything, Elton thought, go large or go home right? He tossed the notebook and pen on the floor beside the futon, reclining back into the firm mattress. He closed his eyes and retreated into adolescent fantasy, envisioning himself playing to a stadium of people, beautiful women backstage throwing themselves at him. Perhaps he’d wake up in mansion with two beautiful women in his bed.

Elton jolted from his reverie, he felt a presence in his room. He opened his eyes, at the foot of his bed stood a man. Elton scrambled off the mattress and onto his feet like a hare leaping from the clutches of a fox. The stranger looked middle-aged, an accountant type, he wore a brown pinstripe suit with a red silk tie. He had impeccably groomed silver hair, a cleanly shaven face and piercing dark eyes. “Don’t be alarmed Elton, I’m here about the wish.” He said in a kind fatherly voice which alarmed Elton even more. He stood paralysed against the bedside table in his baggy cartoon boxer shorts. This has got to be some freaky dream he thought to himself. “No, this isn’t a dream young man, you wrote in the book. You accepted the first wish and the commitment. Now you must play the game in order to fulfill that commitment.” Elton’s whole body was consumed with dread.

“What? Why are you doing this?” Elton replied, his heartbeat thumping through his ears.

“My master loves to be entertained, so he plays games. This is a good game though, because if you stick with it and show some moxie, you get to keep your wishes. Everyone in that book has played the game. There are only a few rules, let me explain. The first wish is on me, but you must complete a task afterwards. From then on, every wish has an obligation, complete the obligation, get the wish. I will be frank, these obligations are not pretty, you will get your hands dirty.” The man made a face. “Most unsavoury, objectionable business, it does drive some people mad, some people do not make it, I would not let that dissuade you. You cannot wish the book away, you cannot throw it away or destroy it. However, after the three wishes have been granted and the game is completed, you can pass it on to someone, but they have to accept it and take it from you. Shall we play?”

“What, what happens if I don’t?” Elton stammered.

“That’s an excellent question young man. Let us just say the consequences are awfully unpleasant and terribly messy. All that blood and viscera.” The stranger shuddered at the thought then visibly brightened. “That thankfully, is not my department.”