Rescue

Turning her face slowly back and forth, Sally examined every wrinkle and flaw as she stood in front of the mirror. She stopped and shook her head slightly in disappointment. Her dull hair, pulled back in a thin ponytail, did little to improve the sad, tired face looking back at her. She sighed and pinned her name tag on her drug store uniform shirt.

A rustle made her stop and look from the bathroom down the hall. A muffled thump sounded on the other side the plain wooden front door. She wasn’t expecting anyone to stop for a visit. No visitors passed her way lately. She came home each night to an empty, cold house. Sally caught her own gaze in the mirror again. Pathetic.

She headed toward the door, expecting no one. Opening and looking down, she noticed a plain white box resting on the mat. No return address, simply her name and address handwritten in thick black ink. Hesitant, she looked around, but the broken and weed-ridden sidewalk was empty. She carefully lifted the package and carried it inside to her kitchen table.

Knife sliding easily through the packing tape, she opened the top with a strange sense of apprehension spreading through her belly. Peering inside, shredded packing material completely filled the space. A smell wafted from the box that was vaguely familiar, like a memory playing in the back of the mind, misty and out of reach. It made her think of old and ancient things from long ago. Sally pushed through the packing material and saw a large sealed manila envelope. A small black leather notebook was nestled beside it. She stared at the weathered dark book, a foreboding sense that things would never be the same if she removed it. Her hand floated over the binding, unsure. In a quick, but reverent motion, she grasped the book and lifted it, brushing its cover free from packing debris. The outside was wordless, the simple worn leather giving evidence of extensive use and repetitive opening.

Using her thumb, she feathered the book open, the pages whispering to her as she flipped to a random place. The handwritten words were flawless and perfect in their penmanship. She began to read, interest turning slowly into confusion and fear. She stopped abruptly. The words perfectly described an event in her life that happened five years ago, the details astonishing. She snapped the cover closed, her heart racing. What type of trick was this? Her mind raced as she realized everyone in her life at the time of what she had just read were either dead or in a place very far from where she had moved to hide from the world. It was impossible. With shaking hands, she reopened the book much farther past where she had been, not wanting to revisit those memories again. Taking a deep breath, she began to read. Her eyes grew wide as, once again, she was reading about moments from her life as if she were one watching through a window. As she read, her eyes began to sting with tears as she came face to face with her old enemy of self-loathing, realizing how pathetic and alone she had become. She once again closed the book, holding it in her hands with the fore-edge facing her, the paper rough and perfectly imperfect for its apparent age. She looked toward the front section of the book, wondering if it would also describe the time when she was much newer, shinier, and her dreams had called to her sweetly. She dared not read them for fear that she would fall into despair and the dark aching for the long forgotten.

Turning the book over in her hands, wondering and pondering what this all could mean, she noticed a page that appeared to protrude slightly more than the others. Opening to the place, an envelope, yellowed with age, fell softly to the floor. Sally reached down, feeling suddenly like Alice in Wonderland, perplexed and intrigued by the strangeness that permeated this moment. Lifting the envelope flap, she slid a thin piece of paper out from where it had been resting. Reading the contents, she felt her world shift slightly.

Sally Clark,

Do not be afraid. The contents of your package contain a sum of twenty thousand dollars and your life story, unfinished. You are among five unique individuals who have been chosen to re-write and complete your story.

Look to the street. You will see a limousine waiting. Should you choose, leave now with only the contents of this parcel and nothing else. All that is needed will be provided. You must trust and you must tell no one about these occurrences.

Should you choose not to accept this opportunity, you may retain the money in full.

There will be no second chance.

You have half of an hour to decide.

Sally tried to calm her rapid breathing. She raced to the window facing the street and felt faint. The car was there, just as the instructions said it would be. She sat heavily in the chair and cried at the wondrously cruel dilemma this posed. She knew if she walked through that door, she could be making another life altering mistake. She looked again at the book, thinking of the sadness that was her existence, captured in the words on those musty pages. Should she not get into that car, though, she knew the end of this story; the mundane page after page that would be written about who she was.

She closed her eyes and slowly removed her name tag from her shirt, laying it on the table. She stared at it, the only thing that defined her in the sea of customers and coworkers who knew nothing of her life. Sally stood, clutching the envelope and notebook close to her chest, and walked through the front door into the bright sunlight. She walked slowly toward the car, squinting in vain effort to see the driver. The windows were tinted so darkly it was impossible. Her hand rested on the door handle, cold and steely, and she paused to look around. She had the sudden urge to run, but the irresistible draw of the cryptic instructions held her in place. She could hear children playing out of sight down the street and the breeze rustled through the tree leaves. Otherwise, it was strangely quiet, as if the world was waiting in suspense for her to make the final move to seal her decision. With a deep breath of resolve and in a quick motion wrought from panic of being left behind, she opened the door and entered the car. Sally disappeared into the darkness and embraced the mystery.