Book of Destiny

The Quill & Brew was owned by Mr. and Mrs. Chong. What started out years ago as an office supply warehouse had morphed into an industrial themed stationery store with large glass windows, complete with a coffee shop and a loft-style apartment for the Chong's. It was a haven for aspiring writers, college students and the occasional board game enthusiasts. In fact, it was my favorite place to spend my free time when I was not working behind the counter myself.

The Chong's believed in keeping everything clean, simple and old fashioned. Their philosophy was that in this way there was less noise and ideas were allowed to brew nicely along with the manual pour-over coffee they served.

"Maggie, great stories are like flowers. You can't make them bloom. All you can do is keep giving them water and sunlight and hope for the best," Mr. Chong was fond of saying whenever I expressed frustration with trying to find that one novel idea I could latch on to.

The Chong's were like surrogate parents to me. I worked at the store through college and now after graduating, I had decided to stay.

Today was my writing day. Out of two days off from the shop I always dedicated one full day to writing and nothing else. I even wore the corny "Write or Die" t-shirt my teenage brother gifted me for my birthday.

"Hello Maggie, I see you have your lucky writing shirt on today," Mrs. Chong proclaimed as she came over to my favorite table where I was settling in for the day. I always chose the corner table against one of the large walls opposite the main entrance and large windows. It allowed me to people watch as the ideas percolated in my head.

"Hi, Mrs. Chong. Yeah, its writing day, I responded warmly. "How's business so far today?"

"Oh you know Maggie, Mondays are slow, so Mr. Chong does inventory and I make sure everything is perfect in the shop. If you want, you could always head back there to see if there are any new journals that don't qualify for RTV's. RTV was short for Return to Vendor. Mr. Chong kept a bookshelf in the storage area where he put them as a free for all for the workers.

"Thanks, Mrs. Chong, I'll head back there now. It's actually good timing. My current one is almost full," I held up my fancy thick brown leather journal with the symbol of the World Tree on it that my parents gifted me after I graduated.

I headed back to see if there were any journals on the giveaway bookshelf that caught my eye. Normally the thicker and fancier the better. Mr. Chong looked up from the center of a sea of boxes as I approached.

"Hey Maggie, come to see if there are any new journals for you?"

"Yeah, Mr. Chong. The one my parents gave me at graduation is almost full and today is writing day," I pointed to my shirt.

"Hard to believe that was only three months ago now and you've already filled that thing up."

I sighed on the inside and simply gave Mr. Chong a weak smile. Between my parent’s cash gift at graduation and the meager savings I was able to put away during my four years here in college, I only had enough to cover six months of living expense while trying to become a published writer. And the worst part was despite all the effort and pages of work so far, I did not feel as though I had latched on to a story idea that was strong enough to become my first novel. And when I ran out of time, I would have to move back home to my parent’s basement and squeeze out some writer’s inspiration between work and babysitting my little brothers.

"Are you still coming to have dinner with us tonight, Maggie?"

"Mr. Chong, you and Mrs. Chong don't have to keep doing that. I mean, I love coming to dinner with you guys, but I feel like it might be too much every night with the store and all."

"Nonsense, Maggie, you are always welcome. We enjoy your company. Plus, you're the closest thing to a daughter we've ever had."

Not wanting to embarrass me, Mr. Chong went back to sorting inventory from the boxes as I slowly made my way over to the freebie bookshelf.

It had all the usual suspects: Leuchttum, Moleskin, Lemome, Rhodia, Muji etc. As I scanned the shelf for something different, something that may spark some inspiration my eye caught a very glossy black leather journal. It was the typical five by eight-inch size but when I pulled it off the shelf, I noticed right away that there were some pages missing. They had been torn out. And the leather was supple but smooth. It screamed quality. As I turned to the cover page it had only one symbol, that of scales hanging from angel wings.

As I made it back to my spot in the shop, I opened the black journal for closer inspection. Something caught my eye as I was rapidly flicking the pages through my fingers. There was writing on at least one of the pages. Curious I slowly thumbed each page until I found it. Before I began reading the words written on the page, I could not place the eerie feeling that came over me. I had goosebumps all over my forearms. And then it hit me like a blast of cold air to the face. It was my handwriting!

What was my handwriting doing in this journal? Before my brain could even begin to come up with any possibilities I began reading.

This is the Book of Destiny.

It appears in times of great need and reveals

itself only to the worthiest recipient.

Its purpose is to restore balance between

good and evil through the power of creation.

Simply put, what you draw on the page

and tear out will become real.

Your drawing may not be machinery,

electronic or need fuel.

It must also fit on the page.

But be warned the tearing of every page will

also spawn a formidable hunter to stop you.

They will pursue you and

the Book of Destiny at all costs.

Your charge is to discover and stop the

the forces plotting to enslave humankind.

To aid in your journey there will be a drawing

on the next page.

I was overwhelmed. How could this be possible? But it was my handwriting. And how was I supposed to restore balance? Oh, wait, the drawing on the next page! I turned the page and my short burst of excitement quickly became consternation. It was a sketch of a pair of glasses. And on the part of the frame that went on to the bridge of your nose was that symbol again, the scales hanging from angel wings.

So, I tore out the page. And nothing happened. Nothing at all. No puff of magic, no horns announcing a grand creation. Did I misinterpret the instructions? So, I laid the page down next to the journal and flipped back to the page with the instructions and read them again. Nothing.

I went to pick up the page with the drawing of the glasses on it again only to find that it was gone! Just like that. One minute it was there and the next, gone. Just gone. I stared at the spot on the table where the page was for what seemed like an eternity. When I looked up something caught my eye in my peripheral vision. It was on the small table next to mine. When I turned my head, I stopped breathing. It was the glasses with the symbol of the scales and all.

My hands were trembling when I grabbed them off the table and put them on. At the same time, the warning about a hunter reverberated in my mind.

As I looked through them with trepidation, I began scanning the store. At first, nothing was out of the ordinary but then a businessman in a suit who was sitting in the middle of the cafe at a free-standing table with his back to me slowly turned to look directly at me.

I don’t know when I started screaming because I don't remember hearing any sound through the soul snatching fear I felt. However, I knew I must have been because everyone in the cafe stopped what they were doing to look at me. But all I had eyes for was the businessman who had now gotten up and was moving towards me.

Almost everything about him was normal. Even his voice as he tried to act helpful.

"Are you okay young lady?" he said.

I could not respond. All I could do was stare at his face. What had happened to his face? It could not be human. His mouth was permanently open as wide as possible since his top teeth were twice as long as his bottom teeth and twice as numerous. He had no nose, and his eyes were two overly large bulging black ovals. And his scalp was covered in fish scales with two small horns on top. He was hideous, like anat otherworldly looking deep-sea creature come to life.

It was at that moment that I decided to wake myself from my self-induced writer’s trance. It took me a few seconds to register where I was again and smell the comforting aroma of freshly brewed coffee and see other patrons finding their seats for the day. For the first time in three months, I felt enthusiasm. Mr. Chong’s advice and my perseverance had paid off. I had finally found a story I could sink my teeth in to for my first novel, but I only had three months of savings left.

After the shop closed and I finished working on my new story for the day I joined the Chong’s for dinner in their loft.

"Maggie, we have something to tell you," Said Mr. Chong solemnly. I was instantly suspicious. Anytime Mr. Chong took that serious tone it usually meant good news. It was his way of kind of trying to catch you off guard with a nice deed. I gave him my suspicious look and crossed my arms.

Mrs. Chong laughed. "Honey just tell her. No build up this time."

"Alright. Geeze, you ladies spoil all the fun."

We both smiled at him warmly.

"Maggie I talked to your parents today. I told them I wanted to start a scholarship once a year for one of the employees of the store. Someone who shows promise but needs a little help to make their dreams come true. And we chose you."

I was floored. The Chong’s had done so much for me already. I had a lump in my throat.

"I don't know what to say. You guys have done so much for me already. I feel like you’re my family away from home. And I don't think I would have been brave enough to start my writing career had it not been for the store."

At that Mrs. Chong nudged Mr. Chong with her elbow.

"Tell her the best part honey!"

“After talking with your parents we have decided to award you $20,000 so that all your expenses are paid for a full year while you become a writer."

The lump and my throat moved to my eyes and became tears. I got up and hugged them both for way too long. And then I looked at them and simply said, "I love you both. Thank you so much. Today I thought that chasing my dream may be over soon but now I know it’s not and that means everything to me."