All That Glitters

There must be something amazing in that little black book.

That's the thought that crosses your mind as you stand there, arms crossed over your chest and eyes darting back and forth between a book and an envelope. An odd but friendly-looking man stands across from you holding onto that book and that envelope, smiling and waiting for an answer to an extraordinary proposal. Twenty grand for that one sill little black book. It seems insane.

It seemed like a joke at first, but the longer the two of you stand there in the middle of the yard sale, surrounded by open boxes and folding tables with crooked legs, it settles into your mind that you may have struck gold here. The only question is, which of that man's hands holds the gold?

You start to think maybe you shouldn't be that surprised. Aunty Bird was an odd one. She had all kinds of weird, strange, obscure, but fantastic items scattered around her house. The whole family came around after she passed to scavenge for the most valuable things. They took jewels, sculptures, framed paintings, clothing, tapestries, the fancy plates from the dining room cabinet to pawn off for an extra bit of cash. All that was left when you arrived was some of the furniture and about seven shelves worth of books. There was nothing much of value there at first glance and that's why you thought it was the best option to just drag everything out onto the front lawn and put up a yard sale sign.

You didn't really bother looking through everything, didn't even think to open any of those books, especially not one so tattered looking. You didn't bother to look and now you're dying to know what is inside, to know what could possibly make this odd man believe that it is worth $20,000. It looks more like a journal than something published, maybe it has some of Aunty Bird's old sketches in it. Maybe photos from her travels. Poems, maybe? Knowing that woman, it really could be anything.

"You really want to buy that book for twenty thousand dollars?" You ask.

"Absolutely," the man says, and there is not the slightest bit of hesitation in his voice. He seems so sure, so determined, and that only makes you more and more curious. "It would be a great pleasure of mine to buy this here book from you."

"For twenty grand?"

"Yes."

You have to laugh. You can't hold it in anymore and you let out a cackle, doubling over with your hand on your stomach. This is just too much. "Sir," you wheeze. "you can't buy this book for that much money."

"Oh, should I double the amount?"

"No!"

You stumble back a bit, confusion and aggravation flooding your face. This man is ridiculous, or maybe just crazy.

"Sir, this book is... it's not worth twenty thousand dollars."

The man presses his lips together, raising his eyebrows as he glances down at the book in his hand, turning it to look over tattered black material. He nods, "Yes, perhaps you're right. The book might not be worth much, but what's inside I'd say is nearly priceless, and I'm willing to give you $20,000 for it. If you'll accept my offer."

"Believe me, I want to, but I just don't understand."

The man's expression falls a bit as he adjusts his posture, glancing around at the scattered remnants of Aunty Bird's belongings. He nods, seemingly to himself, before turning back to look at you. "Most people don't. You don't even know what's in this book, do you?"

You shrug, "No, sir, I don't."

"And that is why I would like to have it. Treasures like these should be held onto and appreciated, and that is what I like to do.” The man huffs and holds the envelope of cash out in front of him while clutching the black book to his chest. “Please, accept my offer.”

The little black book seems to gleam at you, holds your gaze as you ponder on it again and there is a part of you that wants so desperately to snatch that book back for no other reason to satiate your curiosity of its contents. Of course, that’s not what you do. That isn’t what anyone in their right mind would do, is it?

It’s an odd feeling in the pit of your stomach that erupts when you reach out to take the envelope, and it’s an even worse feeling when the man looks almost disappointed with the final outcome. You stand there, envelope clutched in your hand, stuck still as the man smiles once more and glides away, disappearing down the street.

It almost feels illegal. You feel like you may have just conned a man out of twenty grand. An ungodly wave of guilt and remorse hits you, but it quickly washes away once you open the envelope. Suddenly, it’s euphoria you feel, it’s excitement, it’s relief that falls into place, soothing the tight pinch in your stomach when you see the thick stack of hundreds staring back at you, waving at you as you fan through them. All of this gold for a silly little black book. Amazing

Absolutely amazing.