The Book Of Me

The Book of Me

Another scroll through the KeepInTouch app to see what everyone is up to. All people that, admittedly, I no longer talk to. Tristan Cook must be inspired by his name, as he mostly posts his food. Claire Morgan is on selfie number 3 for the day, and I do not believe she is quite finished yet. She pretends to be annoyed with the flirty comments on the pictures, but she keeps sharing more. Joyce Hadland, employed by the restaurant that I was sitting at, has shared her fundraiser for her brother Greg once more. I wish no ill will on anyone, but I was never a big fan of Greg. Still, his condition sounds quite serious nowadays. James Neary sent me a friend request, but I thought we were already friends on here. I do not think I will be accepting that.

I was mid-sigh at the boredom before me when my waitress came over. It was Joyce. I was sitting at my usual spot. She had a coffee in hand, but her eyes widened as she approached me at the table.

“I didn't even ask you if you wanted coffee today, did I? I am so sorry!” She said, embarrassed.

“No worries Joyce, I think I’ve been coming in often enough to have earned myself a ‘the usual’, eh?” I said. She laughed, but I could still tell she was embarrassed.

“So then I am safe to assume you want a turkey club?” She asked.

“You got it!” I said, with a slight wink. I was never able to pull that off too well, but I thought it was as smooth a wink as I could have done this time.

She walked away and I took a sip of my coffee. It wasn’t too great today, so I decided some sugar was needed to salvage it. When reaching for a sugar packet, I noticed a piece of paper folded neatly on the rack that held each of the individual packets. It seemed intentionally placed in it’s location, and it almost felt as though it would be wrong to remove it.

“And here we are, turkey club for you.” She started when her eyes arrived on the paper.

“Oh, I am terribly sorry, must have missed that when cleaning the table. Want me to throw that away for you?” She asked.

“That won’t be necessary, I will take care of it.” I responded, not knowing why I felt so defensive for a piece of paper. It was as if a puppy were giving me the look - the take me home with you look.

After eating my breakfast, I could no longer resist my urge to look at the paper. It was folded too well to have been a child. The paper was creased perfectly and lined up spot on. It was a letter. At that moment, I felt even more guilty, as if I was now reading someone else’s business. But upon reading it, the discovery of it by a stranger seemed to be the intent.

Hello friend,

I hope this letter finds you in good health, whomever you may be. It so happens that my health is not so great. In fact, at this moment that you are reading this, I may already be gone. I won’t bore you with the unnecessary details of my condition, but they tell me I do not have long left. My condition is incurable. Though this news would be unfortunate to anyone, it has put me in quite a predicament. When I was just 18 years old, I decided to make a list of the 100 things I would like to do before I die. I accomplished nearly everything on my list, but there are still just a few remaining items to be done. I want the last few items to be completed and crossed out, but seeing as I am unable to complete them myself, I am asking for a favor from you. Reach your hand under the table. You will feel a notebook taped underneath. That will contain my list, the exact list I first wrote at 18. This notebook has been through a lot, treat it with love.

Please fold this up and place back on the sugar rack if you do not wish to take on this task. Thank you for your time, and take care.

PS - there is an envelope taped under the table as well, please only take it if you will be taking on the challenge.

I felt a little intimidated. The word ‘challenge’ did scare me, but nevertheless I immediately reached under the table to see if this was a joke. Naturally, the first thing I felt was a piece of gum. I shuddered a bit, but continued to feel until I felt the book. It was quite small, and easily held by the tape. I pulled it off and gave it a quick look. It was old indeed, a black leather cover but the pages were in surprisingly decent shape still. I began to look through his list of things to accomplish.

There were items big and small, but as he stated nearly everything was crossed off. Things from rolling down a large hill, to owning a business. Both were accomplished, thank goodness, as I was easily dizzy and had no means to start up a business. I noticed one crossed out with a different colored pen, as if to grab attention. It clearly had read ‘stick gum under a table’ and I had to admit, I snickered.

I finally came up to the first one not crossed off, and it read something that could not be more simple:

34. Eat ice cream. I am lactose intolerant and never felt brave enough.

How could someone have never had ice cream?! I got up to run to a nearby ice cream shop, when I remembered to check for the envelope. I reached back under the table - accidentally touching the gum again - and pulled it down.

I couldn’t believe my eyes, it was absolutely filled with money. All told, there was exactly $20,000 in there. I realized after seeing this that he must have some expensive things he had not done quite yet. It was time to begin completing his life’s journey.

One month later...

Melville Hospital. Park on the west side of the building, enter door 3, go to the elevator directly on your right to the 3rd floor. Room 308. I may be gone, but if not, please come.

These were the notes on the last page of the notebook.

“Hello, I am here for…” It was not until I reached the nurses station on the 3rd floor that I realized that there was no way they would be allowing me into anyone's room without saying who I am here for. I felt defeated and at a loss for what to do next.

“Sir?” The lady said.

“My apologies… I think I may be in the wrong area.” I said, not knowing what else to say. But as soon as I began to walk away, another nurse stopped me.

“Welcome back! Right this way.” She said, and gave me the look. The ‘just go along with it’ look.

“Oh, right.” I said, confused beyond words. She brought me into room 308, but the bed in the room was blocked by a curtain. I was finally able to see his name, written on the white board: Ben Nucci.

“Saw the notebook, I knew you were here for Ben. We are not supposed to let anyone back here who isn’t family, but he does not have any. He told me about the notebook. I am so grateful you found it before he was gone. He does not have much time left. Please know that he is barely hanging on.” She said, and then let me beyond the curtain.

Though I expected his age, I was taken aback by how small and old Walter looked. I sat by his side and pulled his black notebook out, and began to talk to him.

“Walter. I do not know if you can hear me, but I pray that you can. I wanted you to know that I set out to accomplish all of the goals that were left behind by you. I ate ice cream, and though I have had it before, I made sure to enjoy it as if I were someone who had never had it. It ended up being the best ice cream I have ever tasted. I skinny dipped in a lake, which is something I always told myself I would never do. I shared your fear of the filth, but your expectation was correct - it did bring forth a freedom that can’t be felt another way. Don’t get me wrong, I will never do it again, but you were still correct. I did everything left that you asked, and it was honestly just an incredible experience. I also kissed a stranger, which was the most terrifying item you had written on here. I could not believe you wrote that down. I wanted to be upset with you over that goal, but I was too invested. I had to accomplish it. But the funny thing is, the girl got a kick out of it. Believe it or not, she let me take her out after she was done yelling. It took some serious convincing, I do not know how I pulled that off. We have been on a few dates now and I feel happier with her than I have been with anyone in a long time. I have a good feeling about this one, and I cannot thank you enough for that. One thing that I haven’t been able to understand is why all the money. The items left on your list did not require all of that money, Ben. I know that, because I am proud to tell you that I accomplished everything on this list. Well, everything except for the very last item.

Number 100. Change someone’s life. Ben, I did not cross this off because I wanted you to know that you actually did accomplish this. You changed my life. Giving me the opportunity to see what all you had done in your life, and going through your remaining goals changed me. It makes me feel like if nothing else, I have done good by one person in my life. You also helped me meet someone whom I am feeling pretty serious about.

You did it Ben. You changed someone’s life. You finished number 100 on your list. I just wanted you to know that before it is too late.”

I looked at Ben for a moment, begging that somewhere inside he was able to hear me. At one moment, I thought I caught a smile. Maybe it was just me hoping. I took a pen out, and began to cross off item number 100, when the unthinkable happened. Ben spoke.

“No… Yours now… YOU complete…” He said. Those were his very last words. It was no longer his goal to change someone’s life, now it was my turn. I said goodbye to Ben, a man I had only just met, yet I was extremely emotional. The tears began pouring, and I was determined to finish this list. I owed it to him.

I decided to donate the money to Joyce Hadland, for her brother Greg. I sent the money anonymously through her fundraising app. I have since heard that he is expected to make a full recovery. I have never seen her quite so happy.

It did turn out, however, that the remaining amount requested through her fundraising site still left me with $4. I decided to use the leftover amount from Ben Nucci’s money to purchase me my own black notebook. It was time I finally made and accomplished my own goals.

“Thank you Ben.” I whispered to myself.