Easy

It was easy, too easy. Yet Byron also had great respect for the process. He had learned never to assume it was going to work each time. As he placed the folded piece of paper in the pocket of the notebook he would think, maybe this is the last time. But it never was. Each morning he’d wake up and there would be another wad of cash in the pocket where the note had been.

He tried not to be greedy. In fact, his most greedy wish was probably the first time. This was before he knew the power of the little notebook. Just barely eighteen, his grandmother had given it to him as a going-away gift for college. “A little book for all your thoughts or just in case you need to jot a few things down,” she had said the last time he saw her. It was a sweet gesture, and as he smiled and thanked her, he was sure he’d find a use for it.

He’d read somewhere that if you wanted something you should write it down. By writing it down you gave it intention and then by putting that intention out into the universe, it could come true. The first time he tried was with Sherry Jones. He wrote her name on one of the pages, put a heart around it, tore it out of the notebook and placed it in the little extra pocket in the back. He quickly forgot he had done so but it didn’t matter because Sherry never gave him the time of day anyway.

Not long after, he started talking to a girl called Crystal. They had Biology together. “I’ll go out with you, but you gotta do something for me,” she said after class.

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

“I want go to the music festival this weekend.”

“Aren’t those tickets like a hundred each?”

Crystal looked at him and batted her long lashes. “I think they’re actually more like one seventy-five. That’s okay, yeah?”

Byron swallowed hard. He had less than $400 in his bank account, left over from the student loan payment that he needed to get him through the rest of freshman year. Spending over $350 on tickets, parking and fees was out of the picture.

Crystal raised an eyebrow, filling the silence. “So…?”

He answered before he knew what hit him. “Sure, yeah! Sounds cool.”

“Really? Okay, then. Pick me up on Friday at seven.” At last, he was getting some attention.

After she left, he felt his heart sink. He had no idea what he was going to do when he showed up on Friday with no tickets in hand. He sat for a long time with his thoughts, ignoring the biology homework he should have been doing. Finally, he remembered the notebook. Turning to a new page, he wrote a dollar sign first followed by five and two zeros. He ripped the page out of the book, folded it in half, and slipped it into the pocket.

When Friday came, he was trying to think of an excuse to text Crystal why they couldn’t go. But instead, he thought to check the notebook. As he lifted it out of his desk drawer it felt heavier than normal. There was a slight bulge to it. Inside five hundred-dollar bills were tucked neatly into the pocket. He took them out and looked them over. Must be fakes, he thought. But they looked real enough and he decided to make sure at the bank that afternoon.

The small bank office on campus was usually only attended by one or sometimes two employees. It was just a place where students could use the ATM or cash checks from their parents. Bryon walked up to the desk and smiled at the woman behind it. “Excuse me, I have a strange question. Are these real?” He handed over the bank notes. “I got them for graduation but they’re just so crisp. I’ve never seen bills that weren’t wrinkled yet”.

She smirked as she held them up one by one, partially believing him, and marked each in turn with a special pen. “Yes, honey, they’re all real. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Oh yeah, can you put them in my account? They’re probably safer in there.”

She nodded, glaring at him over her glasses. “Much safer.”

Bryon used his bank card to purchase the festival tickets and would have money left over for food and drinks. When they got to the stadium, Crystal ended up abandoning him almost immediately. She had, he realized, just needed a ride and a ticket – and Bryon could provide those. He wasn’t angry, though. Perhaps if it had been his own money, he would have felt anger. But he had asked the universe and the universe had provided. He wondered if it would work again.

Over the years – fifty here, a hundred there – he got used to how it worked. Easy. He tried not to abuse it but found that sometimes he was a little short on rent. One year he threw a surprise birthday party for his friend Trevor at a local restaurant. He told Trevor to order steak or whatever he wanted. Bryon paid for everyone’s food and drinks. No one asked him how he could afford it, so he didn’t say anything.

Sometimes he used it to take out girls but most of them didn’t deserve it. The first time he didn’t use it was the night he met Belle and knew she would be the one. He offered to take her out for dinner, but she suggested they go for a picnic on the beach at night. She brought a chocolate cake she had made in her dorm kitchen and forgot utensils, so they ate with their fingers. He was in love.

Graduation seemed to come quickly. His mom, dad, and grandmother were driving in to see him graduate and he wanted to look presentable. He asked the book for a hundred dollars so he could buy a suit. However, as he did so, he noticed there were only two remaining pages. After a moment’s thought, he tried writing $5 on a piece of paper from one of his school notebooks and placed it in the pocket. It didn’t work. It was clear that he would only be able to ask for money two more times. This was a dilemma: He found it difficult to rationalize what he should ask for. Should he ask for a large amount in case he couldn’t find a job after graduation? Or maybe to get a car that wasn’t constantly breaking down, or maybe even a ring for Belle? One day, he knew, he would ask her to marry him.

A few days before graduation, his grandmother called him. “Byron, my love, I’m so sorry to bother you. I know you probably don’t have much, but they turned off my electricity this month. I don’t know why, but they did. There’s a number you can call. I think I owe them about a hundred and ten dollars. Can you help?”

Byron had already written $110 on the second-to-last notebook page before ripping it out and putting it in the pocket. “Of course, granny! I’ll call them first thing tomorrow.” By 10am the next day, her electricity was back on.

After the graduation ceremony, dressed in their black caps and gowns, Byron introduced his family to Belle. They loved her. When all the pictures had been taken, his grandmother put her hand on his shoulder, drawing close to his ear. “I’m so proud of you, Byron. And thank you for helping me with that bill the other day. Sorry it was such a pain, but my account is almost empty.”

Bryon looked puzzled. “What do you mean it’s almost empty?”

“I don’t know.” A brief wave of panic swept across her face. “There was almost twenty thousand in there, from when your grandpa died, and now... The bank thinks someone stole it, but they have no way of finding out where it went. It started four years ago.” Byron’s eyes widened. “And all different withdrawal amounts, like five hundred one day and then five dollars a week later, then three-forty, then fifty. They said it’s impossible to trace, and they won’t be able to recover it because I never noticed there was an issue. So, thank you for helping me out the other day. It means the world to me.” She hugged him tightly.

Byron was quiet, staring down at the grass as the truth began to dawn on him. “Of course, granny.” He knew it had been far too easy. He knew there would be a catch — and here it was, almost four years later. His heart sank. As the group made dinner plans, he said he would meet up with them at the restaurant. There was something he had to do first.

He ran back to his apartment, just a few blocks from campus, and grabbed the notebook out of his bedside table. He held it for a moment. It weighed almost nothing now — just the two black covers and a single page sandwiched between them. He didn’t know if it would work but he had to try. He took his pen and scrawled $20,000 on the remaining page. He hesitated. The math didn’t add up and logically it shouldn’t work. But he felt desperate and frantic. Before ripping out the page he added a minus symbol in front of the amount. He tucked the page into the pocket as usual, closed the notebook, and headed back out.

For a whole week he felt sick. He wanted to tell his grandmother what had happened but frankly the guilt was overwhelming him. He wasn’t eating properly. Belle was worried. There had been no word. He didn’t notice his phone ringing on the coffee table when Belle told him it was his grandmother’s number. He picked it up, shaking slightly. “Hello?”

“Hello, dear. You’ll never believe what happened! They must have caught the scammer because it’s back! I knew you were good luck, kiddo.” A moment passed in silence as Byron felt his breath catch in the back of his throat.

“Oh my god, granny,” he sputtered, “I’m so happy you got it back!” He was beginning to weep, he realized. Belle rubbed his back lovingly. “But it wasn’t me,” he continued. “I’m not good luck... Sometimes you must put your good intention out there and the universe will take care of it. But sometimes it’s best to ask for help, and I’m glad you asked me.”

His grandmother chuckled. “Of course I asked,” she said. “What was I going to do, wish for the money to arrive?” Bryon had to laugh too because it sounded ridiculous out loud. Still, he could never really explain it to anyone, not even to Belle. It was better just to keep it a secret. Though it was never easy.