Little Black Book

As Jerome waited for his Uber to arrive, he noticed a small bag hidden next to a bush. He looked around to see if anyone else noticed. As his Uber arrived, he quickly grabbed the bag and got into the cab.

When he opened the bag, he was astonished to find it filled with cash! There must be at least $100,000 in here, he thought. He tried his best to hide his amazement. A sorry attempt. A smile overcame his face as his mind wandered to a life of luxury.

A new car! He began to think. The car of his dreams! Definitely a new wardrobe! He could start dating supermodels! A vacation to the Bahamas! He could go anywhere, he could be anyone!

He smiled wider as he took one more look. This time, he noticed a little black book inside. He quickly flipped through it and found it filled with names. Just a list of names, no titles, no categories. Could it be a hit list? Is this what the money was for? Was this the pay for offing these people? Hm, maybe I just saved these people’s lives, he begins to think, Guess I do deserve to live in luxury since I’m a hero.

Suddenly, the car began to shake, and he returned to his current situation. He realized they’ve pulled over and the driver is in a panic. Ugh! Just what I needed, he thought, stuck in the middle of this unknown city with a fortune in cash, a broken-down car, and a hysterical Uber driver. He watched as the driver quickly popped the hood and began working on the car.

Jerome climbed out of the car and told the driver that he will cancel the ride and order another Uber. The driver, barely able to speak English simply waved him off.

Jerome grabbed his belongings and walked down the street to call another Uber ride. When he opened the app he noticed the driver’s name. Hector Ramirez… Hector Ramirez?

Jerome paused in a flustered mania. Impossible.

Hector Ramirez was the first name listed on the little black book he found!

Jerome suddenly noticed the driver’s panic was a bit exaggerated for a simple mechanical breakdown.

“Hey, hey, man, it’s okay. What’s wrong?” Jerome asked.

The driver, too involved in his troubles, simply repeated to himself, “This can’t be happening! Not today!”

“What’s wrong, man?” Jerome repeated. “I’m sure it’s not that bad, you can just call AAA.”

“Yes, I know sir, but this means I won’t be able to drive the rest of the night! I was supposed to get a bonus this weekend and already promised my daughter a big gift. No! No! I’m the worst father, making promises I can’t keep and I-“

“Hey man,” Jerome interrupted calmly, “How much was your bonus supposed to be?”

“$150, sir.”

“I’ll give you the $150.”

How strange, Jerome thought. Strange, no, impossible!

Jerome awoke the next morning remembering what had happened the day before and thought it all to be a dream. But as he got up, the bag, the book, and the cash were still there.

Jerome opened the book. There’s no doubt about it, Hector Ramirez’s name was clearly listed on the first line on the first page of the book.

He read through the rest of the names. Who were these people? He thought. Am I supposed to find them?

He brushed it all off and decided to go get breakfast at his favorite café. He counted his newfound fortune so he could begin planning how to spend it. $19,850.

He memorized the first few names in the book and began his trek towards one of his favorite cafés.

Allison, Martha, John, Gregory...

As people passed him on the street, he wondered, could this be Allison? Could that be Martha?

He walked towards the café and already knew what he was going to order. The brunch platter; it always seemed just a tad bit out of his budget and never seemed to be worth to try, but now he had the means. He could order two of those platters if he wanted.

He passed a flower shop he had always passed on his way to the café, but noticed a lady boarding up the window. He didn’t pause, as break-ins were common in this area. Suddenly, he noticed the name of the flower shop. Allison’s flowers. Allison?! It couldn’t be. How? Why?!

He walked up to the lady and asked, “Allison?”

“Yes?” The lady responded without even turning around. She was clearly upset about the break-in. Utterly defeated. An empty vessel trying to repair her life’s work.

“Allison Sieglar?” Jerome took a chance in hopes of shaking her out of her detriment.

“Yes?” She turned a bit more aware that there was a person behind her.

“Allison, how much do you think that’s going to cost?”

“Are you from the insurance company?”

“No, I live in the neighborhood and I’m just concerned.”

“I’m not sure,” she responded, “somewhere between 2 to 3 thousand.”

Jerome wished her a nice day and hastily returned to his apartment. He packed up $3,000 and went back to Allison’s Flower Shop. He gave the bag to Allison and without a second to wait for thanks, he left.

Jerome felt a sudden rush. A smile the size of the moon took over his face. He felt like running. He ran. A sense of wonder and amazement took over him as he ran, his feet barely touching the ground below. His insides felt like they were going to burst.

He ran back to his apartment with this rush. He grabbed the bag and found the little black book. He read the names on it. He read them again. He read them again and again until he memorized them. He packed up the money in a backpack, put on his best walking shoes and began a run without any direction in mind.

One by one, he found each of the people in distress. He didn’t think too much of how to best fix their problems, he simply asked and delivered. Never asking for thanks, never waiting for a thank you. He reached about 150 people that day.

He ran, he took the bus, he called taxis. He found them all. He found them in bakeries, in alleyways, at the DMV, in restaurants, in parks, outside apartment buildings. All the people in the book, of all shapes and sizes. All people who needed just a bit of help that day. Jerome was there to serve them at just the right time.

He was down to $700 from the bag and only one more name in the book. One more person on the list. It was about 2:30 in the morning and he wondered where or how he would find this person, Jessica MacDonald. Should I wait until tomorrow? He thought, I don’t think anyone is outside at this time of night.

He decided to go back home and rest. He got home and put some water to boil for tea so he can rejuvenate and continue his search for Jessica. He turned on his small space heater and waited for the water to boil.

“I’ll find her,” he said, “I’ll find her.” He was extremely tired from all the running he had done and simply dozed off at his dinner table.

The pot continued to boil and began to shake. It shook and shook as the temperature of the water rose, until it reached the edge of the stove and fell. The water spilled onto the floor and slowly crept around the room. It reached Jerome’s heater which sparked in an electrical fury. The sparks landed on the curtains, sending them into flames.

Jerome awoke at the smell of smoke and quickly tried to run out. He tried to run out his front door, but it was blocked by the fire. He tried the fire escape, blocked. He quickly ran into his room and covered the door with his towels. He called 911.

“Hurry!” He cried. “Please, hurry!!!”

Jerome sat in his room waiting for the fire department to arrive and realized he might actually burn to death. He saw the walls turn brown. He felt the heat on his face. He saw the smoke creeping in. He prayed. He begged. He cried.

He heard the sirens of the fire department getting closer, but he didn’t know how long he could hold on. The smoke now engulfed the room. He tried to stay as low as possible, barely keeping his eyes open.

On his final blink, he heard a loud crash and saw firefighters rush into his room. They quickly covered him in a blanket and carried him out.

The firefighter who carried him gently placed him in a cot outside of the apartment.

He looked up, barely able to open his eyes. “Who- who are you?” He asked.

“Sir, you’ve just been in a house fire. You need to rest, we’re taking you to the ER, but please lay back and get some rest.”

“Please, tell me your name!” He wheezed.

“My names Jessica sir, Jessica MacDonald. Now please, lay your head back.”

Jerome reached into his pocket and pulled out the last wad of $700 he had. He handed it to her and noticed she began to tear up.

Jerome faded into the abyss.

Jerome regained consciousness in a cot in a hospital. He saw a lady sitting in a chair in his room.

“Jerome?”

“Hi.” Jerome responded, barely able to speak.

“Jerome, my name is Jessica, I’m the firefighter who pulled you out of your housefire.”

“Oh yes,” Jerome responded, “thank you for saving my life.”

“Jerome, I’m here because before you passed out, you handed me $700 but I can’t accept them. I kept the money so it wouldn’t get lost in your transition to the hospital but I’m here to give it back.”

“No, no!” Jerome exclaimed as he fell into a fit of cough. “That money is meant for you, you’re Jessica MacDonald, right? Please you have to accept it!”

“Jerome, that’s not how the fire department works. We don’t accept gifts or payments for our work.”

“Please,” Jerome insisted, “It’s not a gift, it’s not a payment, I know you need it Jessica MacDonald.”

Jessica once again broke out into tears. “But why are you doing this? How do you know?! How do you know my son needs a-“

Jerome fell back into coma.

“Hi Jerome, how are you feeling?” A doctor asked.

Jerome, struggling to speak, coughed out, “I’m fine.”

The doctor explained to him he may not have much time left to live. “You inhaled a heavy amount of smoke which has caused respiratory problems. We’re unsure of what the problem is. Jerome…” He paused as if preparing for bad news. “Jerome, our tests indicate you may not have long left to live.”

The doctor continued to explain the health problems Jerome would have to live with for the rest of his apparently short life. Jerome blocked out most of it and didn’t come to until the room was clear.

The next day, he called his insurance company. He told them about the fire and they quickly scheduled an inspection.

The insurance claim for his personal property totaled $25,000.

Jerome bought a bag and a little black book. He began writing the names of everyone he knew. Every name he could remember. He began with his family, his friends, his barber, his teachers.

He took the other $5,000 and decided he would retire to a distant land. He knew he only had a short amount of time left to live and didn’t want to burden any of his closest relationships with this knowledge. He decided he would live his last days in peace.

Bag in hand, he waited for his Uber ride to arrive. When it arrived, he dropped the bag, climbed into the car, and rode away.