The Catch

“Say what, now?” I stared at the man.

He was unremarkable. Brown hat, brown eyes, brown coat, brown shoes. In the dim light of the tube station, If he had walked past me, I would hardly have noticed him.

But he hadn’t.

Walked past me, that is.

Nope.

He had stopped right in front of me, halting all forward movement, and spoken.

“What?” I said again.

“I want to you take this. If you do, you will receive $20,000.00.”

I looked down at what he was holding.

A black book. A little black book.

As unremarkable and nondescript as the man holding it.

“You’ll have to start at the beginning.” Okay, I wasn’t usually this dense, but let’s face it, what he was saying was . . . strange.

He smiled, disclosing perfect teeth. “I want you to take this book. And if you do, you will receive $20,000.00.”

“Yeah, right, Buddy. What’s the catch?”

He shrugged. “There will be no ‘catch’ as you so descriptively put it.”

I narrowed my eyes and gave him my most penetrating ‘manager-putting-a-subordinate-in-place’ glare.

He continued to stand there, holding out that book.

“No catch?”

He shook his head. “None.”

“I just take this book. And you give me $20,000.00?”

He nodded.

My mind began to turn it over as a possibility. $20,000.00. What I could do with that! I could even pay off Reggie and get him and his cronies off my back! I started to reach for the book.

Then paused. “Seriously?”

“Seriously. Only I don’t give you the money. It…comes to you.”

I laughed, a short burst of sound. “Right.”

He shrugged. “Believe or not. What I am saying is true.”

“What’s in the book?”

“Names.”

“Oh, I get it now. I’ve seen Mission Impossible. It’s some kind of NOC list and as soon as I take it, I get blown up on a train or helicopter or something.”

He smiled. “Are you planning on going on a helicopter or train?”

“Well…no.”

“The names in this book are just ordinary people like yourself. All have taken the money. All have placed their names in the book. All have carried on with their lives. But with an extra $20,000.00.”

I’m ashamed to admit it, but he was convincing me. That was a lot of money and heaven knew I could use it. I looked around at the people rushing across the concourse to get…someplace. No one seemed to be watching us at all.

I reached out again, this time, making actual contact with the cover of the book. No electric shock. No lightning bolt. No…nothing.

I grabbed it between finger and thumb and pulled it from his loose grip. “Can I look at it?”

He nodded.

I opened the cover and saw a list of names, each written in a different hand and in all different colours of ink. I thumbed through. Mary Tremble. Lou Seriffe. Jamba Jenkins. I recognized none of them. “Then these are all people who…” I looked up at him and broke off.

The man was gone.

I blinked and then looked around, expecting to see him scurrying across the concourse.

But apparently, he had faded back into that same woodwork he had climbed out of a few minutes before.

Like it or not, my decision was made. I shrugged and stuffed the book into my coat pocket, then picked up the suitcase I had dropped when he first held out the book.

What’s the worst that could happen? I started walking toward the exit, then stopped and smacked myself in the forehead. How on earth was Mr. Moneybags going to find me to give me my money? I snorted softly. The whole thing was just stupid.

I started walking again, finally reaching the exit and hurrying to join the queue at the taxi stand.

An hour later, I dropped my suitcase inside the front door. “I’m home!” I called out instinctively. Then I shook my head and rolled my eyes. Who was I thinking would answer? She hadn’t been here for two years.

I looked through the mail on the hall table, mentally thanking my do-gooder neighbour, Jerry, as I did so. Bills and fliers. Just bills and fliers. 10 days’ worth.

I sighed and started to take off my coat.

Just as the doorbell rang.

I jumped, then laughed at myself as I walked to the door and swung it wide. “Yes?”

A stranger. This time all in blue. Hat, eyes, coat, shoes.

Huh. They had found me.

I knew what he was going to say, and he didn’t disappoint. “Your money, Sir.”

I stared at the fat envelope he was holding out to me.

When I didn’t reach out immediately, he opened it and ran a thumb across the bills inside.

Hundred dollar bills. Dozens and dozens of hundred dollar bills.

I blinked, then reached for it.

He dropped it into my hands. “The book?”

I frowned, then pulled the black book from my coat pocket. “I have it here.”

He nodded. “Do you have a pen?”

I picked one up from the table. “Here.”

He nodded, and, taking the book from my hands, thumbed through it to a point where the names ran out. Then he held it out to me. “Sign here, please.”

I frowned, clicked the pen and did so. I looked at my name, George F. Mantis. Somehow it looked…different there on that small page. Strange. Like it didn’t really belong to me.

I ran a finger up the page, stopping at a name a couple of spaces above mine. “Hey! I know this guy! He’s the one I owe…” I snapped my mouth shut.

No way this stranger needed to know my financial woes.

He smiled. And nodded.

Who was I kidding? He probably didn’t need me to tell him anything.

He snapped the little book shut.

I reached out. “Hey…don’t I get…”

He turned. “You took the book. You got your money. It’s time for me to give it to someone else.”

“Oh. Of course.” I offered him my hand. “Well, thank you.”

He smiled again but didn’t reach to shake my hand. “Oh, you’re welcome, Mr. Mantis. And I do hope you enjoy the money. For a while.”

A chill seemed to pass through me. “A while?”

“Yes. You see the money you received came from someone in this book.”

I frowned at him. “What?”

He nodded. “And the next person I give it to will also get money from someone in this book. And so on and so on…and so on. To the end of…time.”

I sat down on a chair. “Really?” I said faintly.

He smiled and touched the brim of his blue hat. “Like I said, Mr. Mantis. Enjoy your money. For a while.”