Little Black Book

This whole digital world has been my predominate form of communication during this pandemic. Sometimes I hate it. And I get it, obviously it serves a purpose because we have our limitations with physical interaction; we should be grateful that we have an easier way to talk to each other compared to years ago when people had to travel on horses to send and receive letters. Blah, blah, blah. I exhale. As cynical as I sound, I have a valid reason why I “hate” it so much. Each time I FaceTime my boyfriend, Raul, I yearn to talk to and hold him in person, but I’m constantly reminded that time and distance is a disrupter in how we envisioned our current life to be. It’s been hard without Raul physically here. Gosh, I wish he could see how empty the train carts look. It’s oddly peaceful yet weird.

New York City without Raul and my family has been uncomfortable. Life has been stressful before the Pandemic but now it’s become overwhelming. While I’m currently on this subway train, all I can notice is just how empty these train carts are so EMPTY. As I sit in this train I’m realizing that New York City isn’t “New York City”. Before the pandemic it’s actually rare to find an empty cart at this time; there would be a random performer, the sounds of people talking and annoying train delays. I tilt my head back on the train map, rapidly watch the buildings pass through the window, shake my leg anxiously, and close my eyes. All I can do is reminisce my routine with Raul before he left. I miss our morning uplifting reflections, French Toast with bananas and maple syrup and when we were done eating we’d walk the dogs before work. Once we had free time we would binge watch some Netflix or Hulu, had our very own live music sessions where Raul was the guitarist and I the lead singer. Our dogs and friends, when they could visit, would be our audience. For the most part pandemic life wasn’t so bad.

We had to accept that some situations were out of our control and we did our best to adapt and manage change. While we were used to this way of life, unfortunately, our lives changed again when Raul had no option but to pack his bags and move to San Diego. His mother was having health complications and laid off from her job and Raul’s father could not help because he was on his own in Ontario. The lease for our apartment was not up for another nine months and we could not afford to break the lease early. Between student loans, helping out our families and providing for ourselves let’s just say the pandemic was not treating many of us well. But we held onto our faith and hoped for the best as Raul was doing right by his mother and I could wait it out until my financial situation was looking up. Every morning I’d glance at the fridge and read the sticky note Raul left that said “Sabrina, eventually this will work out. See you soon my love. I’ll be thinking about you every day. – Raul”

In 2019, I took a leap of faith and left my job at Barnes & Nobles and stepped into a new field in graphic design as a self-taught web designer. And while I enjoyed it, bringing in clients was challenging. I was learning the ropes the best way I could with the resources found and presented to me. While we tried to stay optimistic, my savings was running out and my freelance business has been stagnant for the past five months. I searched daily for different job opportunities aside from designing and my mental health was rocky. My family couldn’t contribute because they decided to move back to Puerto Rico a couple years ago and was struggling to make ends meet. Worrying about Raul’s mother, rent, and income, I couldn’t help but feel hopeless. I cried in the shower for endless nights aching for a miracle.

But for some reason, this day seemed different regardless of how lost I felt on this train cart. Before it was time to get off the next stop, I glanced at the last seat in the corner and found this smooth, slightly torn leather little black book. It was a Moleskine book with the words “Carpe Diem” engraved on the cover. I grabbed and opened the book to read the inside. The first page said “In case of loss, please return to: Phil Johnson, an address near the East Village and a phone number… As a reward: $20,000.” I had to reread the $20,000 to make sure I wasn’t hallucinating. “TWENTY-THOUSAND?!” I whispered to myself. At this point, I was waiting for Ashton Kutcher to burst through the cart doors and tell me I was Punk’d. I looked around to ensure the owner wasn’t magically siting in the corner, but the cart was completely empty.

A rush of emotions came over me. I safely put the notebook in my tote bag and kept thinking how this reward could change my life. I ran out of the train station to get a signal on my phone and find a quiet place to call Mr. Johnson. There was a Chase Bank nearby, so I went inside, called the number twice and received no response. I quickly pulled down my face mask to leave a voicemail. I was nervous and mumbled so much. “Uhm, Hi Phil. Mr. Johnson. Hope all is well. I found your little black book on the seat next to me on the four train and figured you’d want this back. I’m in the city too so whenever you want to meet and get your book back please let me know. My name is Sabrina Ramirez. You can find me on Facebook or just give a call back. Whatever works for you. Okay. Uh, Goodnight.” I hurried back home and put my iPhone ringer on high and put the setting to vibrate on ring. I was constantly eyeing my phone and anticipating for a response while working on a design. It was already midnight and figured Phil was not going to return my call. My phone was placed under my pillow, I checked to see if the book was safe and called it a night.

Skeptical about this whole situation, somehow a random user by the name of Diego Johnson, messaged me on Facebook in the morning. He asked if I was the woman who left a voicemail to his grandfather about his book. I quickly replied and sent a picture of the book as proof and asked if we could meet in front of Remedy Diner in the Lower East Side since the address in the book was in the East Village. Diego and I agreed on the location and to meet the following day around noon.

Throughout this whole situation I kept it from Raul because I wasn’t sure if this was legit or how it was going to turn out and did not want him concerned. I was uneasy the whole time. As I approached the diner I saw Diego with an older man who I assumed was his grandfather, Phil. They were waiting in front of the diner. I waived hello with a warm smile and they greeted me with excitement. “SABRINA!! OH WOW, THANK YOU SO MUCH.” Phil exclaimed. He was a tall black man, about 6’3, grey facial hair, around his late sixties, with a long black trench coat and carried a bright smile that was welcoming. Once he smiled I managed to calm down. His grandson, Diego, was friendly and resembled his grandfather’s personality; he seemed grateful that I was willing to meet them to hand over the book. It was a brisk day, but we didn’t care. Phil was glad to retrieve his book.

While I was handing over the book, Phil pulled out a small letter envelope that had my name on it. “Hey, Sabrina. I really do thank you. This book had almost everything in it. Thoughts, contact information, username and passwords, photos. I’m not a technology person. My grandson is. And he was willing to look you up to make sure you were real, and this was going to be safe. I mean, I don’t even remember it falling out of my bag on the train. Someone could’ve easily tossed it out. I used to complain about how technology was no good for society. Everyone is so glued to their devices. But I guess I have to appreciate it now.” He smiled and laughed. “I agree.” I said “I honestly don’t like this constant interaction I have on the computer with my partner. I rather be in his presence. But I have to appreciate that I’m able to see his face you know.” I replied.

“Where is he, if you don’t mind me asking?” Phil asked. “San Diego. Left about 5 months ago. It’s been hard financially and he had obligations that cut our quality time short. But it’s okay. Taking it day by day. I just miss him. But, hey. I’m glad to meet you and hand this over. It seems really important to you.” “Sabrina. I hope this envelope will do you good. When I tell you this means a lot to me. It means a lot to me. It’s basically my life in a small book. I’m a jazz musician and travel a lot. I honestly did not think I would see this again. I was hurt. So, thank you.” There was an awkward silence and Phil interjected “Well, it’s been nice talking to you, but Diego and I have to head back to Arizona. By some miracle you contacted us a couple of days before we had to head back to check on our family. Take care of that envelope and yourself. Goodbye Sabrina. Now come on Diego before we’re late.” “Of course. You’re welcome.” I said while waving goodbye.

This whole exchange was random, and I had my doubts. I didn’t question the $20,000 in the first place because I was not sure if that was written on purpose, by mistake, or as a joke. A yellow cab was driving close to the diner. As I approached the curb, I stuck my hand out and hurried in after he pulled over. I told him my destination and like a kid on Christmas, took out the envelope from my bag. I slowly opened it and behold A CHECK TO MY NAME FROM PHIL in the amount of twenty-thousand dollars. I was smiling from ear to ear. The driver began to make some conversation and asked, “This pandemic was unpredictable, huh?” Staring at the check with confusion, I responded back “Very.”

Receiving the check was just the first step. I had to deposit it in order to make sure it was legit. After anxiously waiting, within a week the check cleared and immediately told Raul the news. In disbelief, he did not understand what happened but was ready for me to be with him in San Diego. The apartment lease was able to be broken early, packed what I could and booked the next flight out. I was on cloud nine. Eventually I arrived in San Diego and reunited with Raul. Raul’s mother was ecstatic I was there and appeared healthier. I was able to pay for a web designer certificate program and within a couple of months actually landed a position as a front-end developer at Spotify. I was so grateful to be able to have stability in my career to help Raul and our families. I left New York City behind me and began a new life in California. All thanks to Phil’s little black notebook and some technology. Who would’ve saw this coming?