Van Gogh's Little Black Book

My Dearest, Maddie

I prayed and hoped that you would never find this letter, but if you are reading this now the damage has been done. You may find this hard to believe, but I worry my life and everything we stand for is in danger. I don’t want to believe it but the way he looks at me sometimes puts fear into my very core. This book your father knows nothing about, but he knows I have kept things from him. I know he will come to find out, that is why you must not tell your father. Take the money I left you and run Maddie! You must run, know that I love you and only want the best for you.

Love your mother, Julie

This was the letter my mother left me, with quite the secret. The series of events that took place to reach this point happened so fast and feels so long ago.

It all took place when a woman in red came knocking on our bookshop door after hours, asking to speak to my father. They talked that night for over an hour and met up again the next day.

I couldn’t help but wonder what were they conversing about? One night they had decided to go out and I thought it best to play detective.

After rummaging through my father’s things, I had only found a crumbled-up piece of paper that seemed to have missed the trash. It read “Van Gogh’s Little Black book” I recognized that it was written in my father’s handwriting.

I left the shop that night with so many questions and ended up doing as much research as I could on “Van Gogh’s Little black book” at home. All I could find was that he worked at a bookshop called Blussé & Van Braam in Dordrecht, but it does not state that he owned one...What could possibly be in that book?

The night came swift. I had been wanting to ask my father the questions that had been haunting me since the night before, but I haven’t had the chance. It doesn’t help that my father and I have not been close, since my mother’s death. My father had long wanted to sell our shop, but it was my mother’s pride and joy, so I have devoted a lot of time to keep it open. This had caused so many arguments between my father and I. I couldn’t find the courage to ask him.

On the way to my apartment, I kept chastising myself for not at least trying. I need to know what my father is up to, I have to go back.

I arrived at the bookshop to see that there was a car in the alley. I remembered it belonged to the lady in red. It did not stop me from entering.

I assumed they were in the bookshop’s office, so I make my way up with indignation, but as I hear the voices ahead of me, I notice they were not a pleasant exchange. Instinctively I quiet my steps and try to get a good earful of what was being discussed.

“We had a deal! You were supposed to find the book and give it to me, the truth needs to be revealed!” the woman in red exclaimed.

“I can’t find the book; my silly historian of a wife must have hidden it! Maybe you know where it is, you were able to track it up to this point, what are you keeping from me?!” This angry accusation was clearly my father.

“Me, keeping something from you?! How dare you accuse me of such things. I came here in earnest looking to offer you a hefty price for the book!” she retorted.

“Hefty? 40,000 dollars for a book supposedly owned by Vincent Van Gogh himself and yet you offer me chump change! You can’t be serious?! It’s worth much more than that!” My father proclaimed.

“40,000 dollars for a journal that MAY have what I am looking for within its contents is hardly chump change Mr. Beckett! It would be more than enough to restart your shell of a shop that is currently in debt!” She emphasized.

“Don’t patronize me! I know what it’s worth! It contains the true story of Van Gogh and his severed ear! I will continue to search for the book but don’t look forward to me sharing its contents with you Ms. Brady. I think now it is time for you to leave.”

For fear of being caught, I scramble myself together and quietly head down to the dark shop to find a hiding place.

“You greedy coward! You will not find a better price than what I have offered you! You would not even have known about the book if I didn’t come searching for it! How dare you go back on our deal, I will ruin you!”

In a clear icy voice, “Yes, yes, Ms. Brady, but don’t forget that the door is downstairs.” My father states condescendingly. Just audible enough for me to hear. It doesn’t even sound like my father.

Ms. Brady made quite the huff and angrily made her way down the stairs slamming the door shut on her way out.

I started to hear papers-shuffling, cabinets opening and slamming closed. I could my father groaning angrily.

“Where could you have left such a thing, Julie!” My father shouted.

Julie was my mother’s name… did she have such an item, did she hide it, even from father? Why?

I heard him speak in a muttered voice, “You left it with her, didn’t you.”

Instantly I think who is “her”? A shiver ran up my spine when I thought that the “her” he was referring to was me…

It’s a new day and my father had been quite restless. He had been stuck in his office nearly all day, and when he does come down, I wish he hadn’t. After several hours of silence and the occasional gruff noise that leave his mouth, he reluctantly called me into his office to speak.

“Well, I need to go take care of some business, close the shop a couple of hours early tonight, so you won’t be tired for your other job tomorrow.”

“Where, are you going?” slipped my lips.

His eyes gave a cold look, but his words were, “Just worry about the shop, for now, Maddie.”

With that, he left the office and shortly after the shop altogether.

I decided to close the shop right after my father left. I hated the thought of it when we needed all the money we could get, but I could not function until I found what I could.

I’m nearly driving like a madwoman to my apartment. I race up to the third floor getting my keys ready to unlock the door, but find that it had been left open. I put too much trust into my building, by constantly forgetting to lock the door.

My first destination is the closet. I spot the case my mother left me on the top shelf in the corner and pull it down. I snap it open and sift through the papers reading the title of the pages that I have read several times already, and come up empty-handed. I plop on my bed with the case full of papers and lay back with the case open on my stomach. I think to myself, “mom what is going on?”

I look at the case and see that there is a small opening on the inside. I sit up to take a closer look. I scratch at it and see a glimpse of something inside. I start to peel it back and find that its contents contain that of a book and a paper. I trace the outside of the book and can tell that it is old. I open the first page and see a signature. It is hard to make out at first, but I could see that it was signed by the infamous Vincent Van Gogh.

“Maddie, what do you have there?” Calls the all too familiar voice of my father.

I am immediately startled, and gasp out of surprise, “ How did you get in here?” My heart is pounding aggressively as I make eye contact with my father. His eyes looking beady and desperate. I can hardly recognize him.

“Maddie, hand me the book,” His cold eyes focus on the little black book.

“NO!” Escapes my mouth.

“I don’t want to hurt you, Maddie, please just give it to me. This will make all of our problems go away, think about that.”

“I’m not giving you anything! Leave!” Who is this man before me, is this really someone I call father?

He shakes his head ”I’m not leaving without that book Maddie.” He starts to come closer, making each step confidently.

I get up quickly and start backing up to my bedroom wall looking for anything that could help me out of this situation.

“Don’t do it, Maddie, I don’t want to hurt you.” His slow strides get faster, and I look around and I see my lampshade next to me. His cold eyes laced with certainty appear in front of me in seconds. He makes a grab for the book as I reach for my lampshade, but I’m not quick enough. He gets hands on the book and in an attempt to hold on I let go of the lampshade and fiercely clutch on to the book.

“Let go, Maddie, last warning.”

“No!!!” I scream while tears stream down my face in fear.

With both hands on the book, he pulls me forward then forcefully pushes me back, knocking my head against the wall.

The shock and pain from my head caused me to loosen my grip and he was able to take it from my grasp. Streams of tears leave my eyes, as I fall to the floor.

I look up to see him soften his eyes. “I’m sorry Maddie. Your mother never knew when to let go, which caused such a mess. I need this money, Maddie, I need it.” With that, he turned away and left.

My silent cries turned into sobs as I held myself together.

Minutes had passed while I lay there frozen. I start to look around my room and see the papers from the case on the floor.

I immediately notice my mother’s handwriting on one of the pages.

I look at the case and wonder are both sides of the case hiding something? I reach out for the case and start to peel back the opposite side.

To my surprise, there was a large sum of money. And another note, in my mother’s handwriting.

“My Dearest Maddie,

I did something I thought I’d never do, I burnt the pages that revealed the true story behind Van Gogh’s severed ear. I destroyed a part of history, so that I could preserve the truth. It breaks my heart, but he threatened me. Your father is not okay with just knowing the truth, he wants to exploit it. I can’t let him do it Maddie. I fear your father will never give up his search. Take this money and go. It’s 20,000 dollars I was able to set aside for you. Leave and start your own life, without him Maddie. You are cable of doing great things, explore the world and find your own truths. I love you with all my heart.

Love your mother, Julie

Knowing that my father could realize that at any moment these pages were missing I hastily packed a bag, and decided to never to go back to life I once had.