Little Black Book: A Ripple Effect

I wake up to the sound of my cell phone ringing, it’s the body shop. Half asleep, I answer. No car again today. I lay there in my bed, just making a few seconds seem longer. How do I get to work?

My love is in the kitchen already in a zoom meeting, dazed into the laptop screen. Working from home has its perks and its pokes. It pokes into our relationship and we argue more. Displace all of our stress onto each other. I wave to get his attention.

Unplugging himself he asks, “What’s up?”.

“I need a ride to work”. I noticed my tone sounded annoyed.

“Seriously, Liz? There’s public transportation everywhere.” (We did just move to the city).

“I’ll get lost out there. Would you please just drop me off”.

He starts to get louder.

“I’m not even close to finishing my presentation. You’re a big girl, handle it”.

I feel myself tearing up. Deeply in love, anything emotion that isn’t love from him feels ten times worse. It was the extra sting to start my day off just right. I walk outside. The city is so loud and overwhelming. I feel the sun on my face and envision a different scenery.

Open my eyes and the stop is right at the corner. A bus is parked, the one I need. RUN. I notice the man in front of me was watching me sprint in amusement. I’m instantly aggravated.

“Thank god you made it, missing one of these things could change your life”.

I take in his look. The kind of guy you’d see against the water somewhere. Pooka shells, flip flops, and shorts. Where was this guy going, Honolulu? He smiles sweetly, winks at me and turns to get onto the bus.

His presence felt overwhelmingly calming. I actually felt the dissipation of my negative mood. I considered smiling but I don’t feel like accepting anything positive today. All of a sudden, the doors begin to close.

“Wait, wait!” I plead.

The driver begins to shut the doors but not before something small and somewhat weighted bounces down the steep stairs and out towards me and into my chest. As I catch the tiny object the bus pulls off, splashing through the leftover rain puddles and away from me. Stereotypically, I run after the bus. I go three blocks and give up. I’m left standing in the street holding this … little black book?

Maybe there’s a name and phone number. I’ve had enough journals to know to label my own. I open from the back and notice a back pocket and find money … a lot of money. My heart starts pounding.

I feel like I should be scared. I notice it’s weight. I frantically look around for a safe place to investigate more. The park. I follow the path to a clearing. I park myself next to a tree and make sure no one is nearby.

Deep breath, I open the book. The first few pages are a disguise for what’s hidden behind. There is more money perfectly fitted into a cut out of the pages. I combine both treasures and begin counting. One thousand, five thousand and finally ten thousand.

I add this to the amount in the back pocket and, I can’t believe it, but there is twenty thousand dollars in cash! My mind beings to shuffle through to find answers within itself. ‘Who’s is this? How badly did someone need this money and now it’s mine? I have to return this/where am I returning this? Should I deposit it?

No. I decide this simply isn’t mine. Although, it seems easier to just accept what was so eloquently thrown into my lap. Then I think of my sister. I pull out my cell and call her. She answers and it sounds like she’s been crying.

“Lily, what’s wrong?”

“We owe so much money!”

“What? To who?”

“The BANK. Kevin defaulted on the loans for the house, never told me the truth and now we’re getting letters practically every day!” She’s sobbing now.

“I have some money”. I say faintly to my sister.

A few seconds of silence “…what”?

“I have the money” I repeat, more confidently this time.

I think I’m trying to convince myself of the decision. This money just flew into my life, in the most literal way possible. It’s not like I could even try to return it, right? I mean, it’s cash? The kind of cash people murder each other for.

Next thing I know, I am at the bank wiring my sister ten thousand dollars. As I walk home, I feel a sense of accomplishment. I was able to be there for my family as a gift from god knows where. It’s funny, no amount of money can actually fix how you feel about life. Although, I can admit, that a sudden deposit can give a feeling of security, even if just for a minute.

With that thought I begin to think about money and how it actually functions within life. It travels all around this planet, going to all corners of the world-enabling so many functions and necessities. Does money have good morals? It can be clean, it can be dirty, it could create a life, destroy a life. With all of this yin and yang it’s almost as if its insignificant … all while being one of the most significant things in this world! I’m walking towards home and I hear someone sobbing.

Sure enough, just around the bend I see a disheveled looking man with body language that looks … defeated. He must feel me staring because he looks my direction. Panicked, I immediately set my gaze to the floor.

“If you feel so strongly for my feelings enough to stare then you would certainly have the politeness to ask me what’s wrong. I was in the military, you know. Served in Iraq. Saw things that no one should see which has managed to isolate me from everything in life and now I’m here with my friend José.” He’s smirking as he pulls a liquor bottle out with a slight imbalance in coordination.

“Want a swig?” He hiccups.

I try to make light in my reach and I swig. He laughs. For a second we feel on the same level. He’s not homeless and I’m not holding the guilt from a priceless chunk of cash in my right pocket.

“You know … If I could, I would do it all over again. Change my mind about how to handle all the postpartum stuff.” I assume he means ‘post trauma stuff’.

I notice a sting of instant heartache. The man has a real history of selfless devotion to strangers and I am in this stranger’s emotional shoes. I roll my fingers over the edges of the cash in my pocket. I figure it’s a pretty good start. Without any words he starts to tear, kisses my hand while taking the money and just walks off.

‘Share it’ screamed my instinct, and that’s exactly what I did. I walk to a nearby café and get myself a drink, I called out of work and deserve it. Again, set for home with my last bunch of cash. Wondering where I am going to invest in myself.

I look left down the alley and see three men fighting. From a distance, it looks like three on one. ‘How unfair’ I think to myself. I’m not sure if it was the severe disgust at the violence I was watching or my lunch buzz and new found financial gift from god, but I felt like I had to intervene. I jump back behind the wall to watch from my distance so I could discover who the protagonist was and also, to talk myself up.

I was about to run into a mosh pit. I slowly turn the corner and start running at my target. They notice me.

“Get off him!” I exclaim.

I hit my target at full force and actually manage to get him off my guy. That felt great, but only for a second. He hits his head against the brink I feel a stab of guilt. What was I doing? Attacking a clear criminal and then feeling guilty about it? He then pops me right in the mouth.

I have never been punched in the face before. I feel the inflammation begin. The taste of metal in my mouth. Everything stops, we’re all just standing there, staring at each other.

“Who the hell are you”. Says the biggest one.

“I’m ... I’m ...” I suddenly forgot my name. Blessing in disguise.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, what matters is our money and the fact that this shrimp doesn’t have it. So, unless you got some cash, you’re about to be in for a rude awakening for hurting my friend, here”. He sends a devilish gaze into my soul.

My protagonist is looking at me. A blend of pity and concern. With obvious tremoring, I reach into my right pocket. I pull out the last wad of cash.

Devil just smiles at me “Smart girl, you just won your life back”.

He rips the money out of my hand and throws me into the man I was defending. He starts counting the money “five thou!”. He turns to the guy I was protecting and points in his face.

“You’re lucky”.

I turn to face the man I saved. We lock eyes and then I start another run. My head is pounding with each step on the pavement, I must have a concussion. I hear cat-calling. I run home and I don’t even care how many people must have saw me and wondered. I open the door and my love is right where I left him.

He looks up as quickly as I opened the door. “Babe, what happened?!”

“It’s an emergency” he says into the computer.

I drop to my knees, dizzy and drenched in sweat. He is by my side before I know it and carries me into the bathroom. He sits me on the floor against the tub, runs the water. He starts with a warm cloth to my face and grabs the ibuprofen from the vanity drawer. I could feel his sadness. I take a sip of water with my pills. He helps me get undressed and places me in the tub. The water feels so relaxing and I tell him everything.

Starting with the cash, to giving it away, to participating in my first brawl. He’s sitting on the floor, his hands playing with the tub water, telling me how amazing I am. He takes a deep breath and rests his chin on the edge of the tub. He’s so adorable. His circle framed glasses fit perfectly on his face and his hair is just long enough to have a small cowlick curl at his front hairline.

“I have to tell you something”.

Nerves.

“So, while you were out playing disciple, my firm gave me a promotion. They loved my pitch and are going with it and my new job position gives me a raise”.

I’m so happy with the news but with flat with emotion. I just manage a smile and the typical “I knew you could do it”.

He smiles bigger, “The raise is 20k a month! It’s like winning a ‘Win for Life lotto!’. He’s beaming now.

Inside I feel elated, just hard for me to show it through my hematoma of a face. He reaches into his sweatpants and pulls out a little black box. What’s inside the little box is anything but little. He pops it open and it’s the most gorgeous ring I’ve ever seen. Heart-shaped, not common, so me.

He grabs my left hand and slips on the ring. Looks at my hand with satisfaction and then kisses me considerately on my swollen mouth.