A Book of Twenty Thousand Opportunities

Lennon’s attention abruptly changed from the conversation with Catori to something wedged in a shrub. The stems of the shrub were mushy and frail and no longer full of life. Lennon removed his facial mask as he walked to the shrub, crouched down, struggling to pull the item free. It was obvious the shrub wasn’t going to lose.

“What are you doing?” Catori asked.

“There’s something wedged in this dead shrub,” Lennon responded.

“What is?” Catori asked.

“A small book,” Lennon stated.

“A children’s book?” Catori asked.

“No, it’s a small black notebook,” Lennon replied.

Lennon aggressively yanked on the stems with no luck but determined to retrieve the notebook, as he tugged on the stems, a handful broke free, causing him to fall backward onto the sidewalk.

“Be careful,” Catori instructed. “Are you okay?”

“Yep, fine,” Lennon said picking himself up.

“Anything hurt?” Catori asked.

“Besides my pride?” Lennon questioned. “No, nothing major hurt.”

Lennon stood up, brushing off the dirt of his blue chino shorts, as he walked to the shrub. Lennon reached into the shrub, with some cunning manipulation, was able to remove the notebook. The small black notebook was covered with a soft dotted leather cover.

“How’d you see that in the shrub?” Catori asked.

“A flicker of light,” Lennon responded.

“Flicker from what?” Catori asked.

“Not sure,” Lennon responded running his finger along the spine of the book. “A foil strip or something.”

Catori’s interest grew as she inched towards Lennon. Lennon looked over the notebook examining it front to back, as Catori attempted to snatch the notebook, while Lennon secured the notebook close to his body. To avoid another attempt by Catori, Lennon paced in small circles as he flipped through the pages.

“Anything interesting?” Catori asked. “An old family secret recipe for Duck Pâté en Croûte?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Lennon answered. “Someone wrote their notes in the notebook.”

“Makes sense,” Catori said sarcastically. “It's a notebook.”

“Interesting,” Lennon said. “Thirty-six - e, fifty-nine - n, seventeen - w, sixty-three - n.”

“Sounds like lottery numbers,” Catori replied. “My grandmother writes all of her lottery numbers in her not-so-lucky-notebook.”

“The lottery?” Lennon asked. “Does your grandma play Bingo Lottery?”

“Bingo Lottery?” Catori asked. “That don’t make no sense.”

“The lottery doesn’t use letters,” Lennon responded. “The next number is thirty-six - n. OMG! I won a set of steak knives playing Bingo Lottery.”

“Point taken,” Catori replied. “What are the number-letters?”

“No, idea,” Lennon answered. “Wagering a guess, maybe something hidden.”

“Let’s find it,” Catori replied.

“Not that easy,” Lennon responded.

“Why not?” Catori asked.

“We don’t know where to start,” Lennon explained. “Someone could’ve lost the notebook or stole it. The starting point could be anywhere.”

“Maybe the starting point is here,” Catori said. “Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“In my back pocket,” Lennon replied.

“The one you fell on?” Catori asked.

“Something like that,” Lennon responded.

“Dust it off, let's go,” Catori said. “We’ve got a treasure to find.”

Lennon opened the notebook to the first page, skimmed the notes, looking for a starting point.

“Okay, let’s play Bingo Lottery,” Lennon replied. “Thirty-six - e, fifty-nine – n, seventeen - w, sixty-three - n.”

“What does that mean?” Catori asked.

“Maybe the number of paces and direction,” Lennon said.

“Geographic regions?” Catori asked.

“Possibly,” Lennon stated.

“Is there a map?” Catori asked. “ With a great big X marking the location?”

Lennon flipped through the pages examining the hand-written notes, hoping for a better understanding, of what, if anything, maybe hidden. Lennon made his way through the pages as Catori’s impatience grew, detecting Catori was getting anxious, Lennon turned to shield the notebook from Catori snatching it out of his hands.

“Nope, no big X telling us where to go,” Lennon responded.

“Check your phone, see if they are geographic regions,” Catori demanded.

Lennon got his phone and searched for a possible geographic location. Catori anxiously awaited an answer, arms crossed, rapidly tapping her foot on the ground. Lennon lifted his eyes from his phone focusing on Catori’s tapping foot.

“Tapping your foot isn’t making this go any faster,” Lennon stated.

“Anything?” Catori asked.

“Nothing,” Lennon answered. “They could be the number of paces and directions.”

“Makes sense,” Catori stated. “Which way do we go?”

“The first is thirty-six - e,” Lennon answered. “East for thirty-six paces.”

“Which way is east?” Catori asked.

Lennon pointed toward the Makawee Forest. Some believe the Makawee Forest is haunted. Locals believe the spirits of ancestors roam the forest to protect the locals. The Makawee Forest provided the perfect cover, anyone with a superstitious thought, was too afraid to enter the forest. It’s conceivable something buried could be buried for centuries.

“That way,” Lennon stated pointing towards the Makawee Forest. “Ladies first.”

“Nope. Same time,” Catori said.

“Afraid you’d say that,” Lennon replied.

They strolled east. With each stride, the stride became greater. Lennon counted the paces out loud.

“Thirty-four, thirty-five, and thirty-six,” Lennon said. “Thirty-six paces east.”

“Where now?” Catori asked looking around.

“Fifty-nine paces north,” Lennon replied pointing north.

Catori started walking in the wrong direction looking over her shoulder for Lennon.

“Are you coming?” Catori asked.

“Where are you going?” Lennon asked.

“Fifty-nine paces north,” Catori answered.

“You’re heading south,” Lennon stated.

“That’s why I use GPS for everything,” Catori said walking back to Lennon.

“Can you believe only having paper maps and no GPS?” Lennon asked.

“I wouldn’t have survived,” Catori replied. “ I couldn’t do it.”

“If that’s all you had,” Lennon responded. “Imagine sailing the ocean with nothing more than a semi-accurate map.”

“Probably why so many countries and their inhabitants were incorrectly identified,” Catori stated.

“I’d bet you’re right,” Lennon said. “Fifty-nine paces north.”

Catori and Lennon walked north counting out fifty-nine paces following the notebook’s directions.

“Don’t lose count,” Catori said. “We’ll have to go back to the starting point.”

“Why don’t you count?” Lennon asked.

“You’re better at math,” Catori stated.

“Twenty-eight,” Lennon replied.

“Twenty-eight?” Catori questioned. “Try forty- nine.”

“Oh, you were counting?” Lennon said laughing. “Fifty-seven, fifty-eight, and fifty-nine.”

“Which way?” Catori asked.

“A short stroll,” Lennon replied. “Seventeen paces west. I think we’re being lured to the Makawee Forest.”

“Are you sure?” Catori asked. “The Weayaya Cemetery is just over the hill.”

“That would make sense,” Lennon said.

“Why does that make sense?” Catori asked.

“Where’s the best place to bury something?” Lennon asked. “A creepy cemetery.”

“Both are creepy,” Catori replied.

Lennon and Catori changed directions heading west making quick work of the seventeen paces. They continued, uncertain where they’d end up, or if they’d find anything.

“Sixty-three paces north,” Lennon said. “This could end up being nothing more than a guided hike.”

“It’s a beautiful summer day for a hike with my best friend,” Catori said.

“With your best boyfriend,” Lennon replied.

“My only boyfriend,” Catori responded.

“That’s what I meant,” Lennon responded. “There’s no other place I’d rather be my love.”

“What a romantic,” Catori said reaching for Lennon’s hand.

They joined hands continuing on their notebook guided journey. They counted out sixty-three paces north finding themselves in the Makawee Forest. Reaching the end of the directions they noticed a distinct shape of one specific tree. The tree trunk was thin, the bottom curved, resembling a fishhook.

“Anything saying where to look?” Catori asked.

“Here we go,” Lennon said. “Be careful what you fish for when looking for the treasure.”

“It’s hidden around the fishy-hook-tree,” Catori said. “Be careful what you fish for a fishhook.”

“I don’t see anything in the tree,” Lennon said looking around the tree. “It must be buried around the tree.”

“How are you going to dig?” Catori asked.

“No idea,” Lennon said. “Maybe there’s something around we can use.”

Lennon and Catori looked around the fishhook tree and surrounding trees when Lennon noticed a small shack just past the line of trees. Lennon sprinted to the shack returning with an old shovel.

“How old is that?” Catori asked.

“Pretty darn old,” Lennon responded. “The old shack’s been abandoned for years. Don’t think anyone will miss it.”

“Where are you gonna dig?” Catori asked. “It could be anywhere around this tree.”

“I guess at the base of the hook,” Lennon answered. “We’re fishing.”

Catori laughed as Lennon began digging. Lennon was determined to find what might be hidden when he hit something peculiar with the shovel. He handed the shovel to Catori. Lennon started digging with his hands dragging out a small wooden box.

“This is so exciting,” Catori said with excitement. “Open the box.”

Lennon opened the small wooden box pulling out a handwritten letter.

“Patience,” Lennon said. “I don’t want to tear the letter. No idea how old or long it’s been buried.”

“What does the letter say?” Catori asked. “I feel like a rebel.”

“It says,” Lennon said. “You rebel scum!”

“What?” Catori questioned. “You’re such a liar!”

“Yeah,” Lennon said chuckling. “The letter reads: To the person(s) who finds this box: Good fortune comes to those who are wise to search and lucky to find. I hope this finds you fortunate enough to be lucky. I will the contents to the person(s) lucky enough to find it, I ask you to help change the misfortune of another as I have done for you!”

Lennon reached into the small wooden box, pulled out a stack of cash, and counted the money.

“There must be fifty thousand dollars,” Catori said in excitement. “We’re rich!”

“It’s not fifty thousand,” Lennon replied. “Twenty thousand to be exact.”

“We’re still rich,” Catori stated doing her happy dance. “What are we gonna do with twenty thousand dollars?”

“Probably pay some bills,” Lennon said. “Help out some unfortunate people, as the letter said.”

“Help how?” Catori asked.

“This past year we’ve all had,” Lennon responded. “Lots of unfortunate people.”

“For sure,” Catori agreed. “How do you decide who to help?”

“Donate some money to the food bank and homeless shelter,” Lennon said. “They can help many people in need.”

“Not a terrible idea,” Catori said. “You’re actually a lot smarter than you look.”

“Most kind,” Lennon replied. “I’m blushing.”

“I’d also like to donate to the local ARL,” Catori replied. “Animals are forgotten about too during tough times.”

“Agreed,” Lennon said. “We donate fifteen hundred dollars to the food bank, fifteen hundred to the homeless shelter, one thousand to the ARL, and one thousand to the Special Olympics.”

“We’re donating five thousand dollars?” Catori asked.

“That’s right,” Lennon replied. “True to the letter helping those in need.”

“That leaves fifteen thousand dollars,” Catori stated. “I can live with that.”

Lennon handed the wooden box, the letter, and the cash to Catori as he filled the hole.

“Do you think we have to pay taxes?” Catori asked.

“Of course, we’ll have to pay taxes on the money,” Lennon said with a smile.

“I don’t suppose the don’t ask don’t tell rule applies?” Catori asked.

“Not likely,” Lennon said. “The government always knows. The shovel was free, though.”

“Nice,” Catori said.

“We should leave before the werewolves come out,” Lennon said.

Catori slowly turned towards Lennon with a blank look.

“Werewolves?” Catori asked walking away at a brisk pace.

“Kidding,” Lennon said. “There’s no werewolves.”

The sound of distant growl could be heard followed by the sound of snapping twigs. Lennon’s eyes enlarged, his heart began to race, and the hair on his arms stood up. Lennon thought it best to pick up the pace and catch up with Catori.

“Are you sure there aren’t werewolves?” Catori asked.

“Well, now I’m not,” Lennon responded. “Quickly!”

Lennon and Catori held hands as they scurried off with the small wooden box, the letter, the twenty thousand dollars, and the small black notebook in hand leaving the Makawee Forest behind.