The Unexpected Journey

A man was lounging on his couch, looking at the television without seeing it. He felt incredibly numb. He’d had a rough year to say the least, and he was definitely starting to feel the weight of a 9 to 5 job he didn’t enjoy doing anymore. He’d contemplated quitting numerous times, but never had the guts to actually do it. He didn’t have a passion to fall back on. Like so many others he knew, he was content just going through the motions, living paycheck to paycheck. He tried to convince himself that the few luxuries he could afford and the scarce nights out with friends were enough of an existence.

His dull colored eyes were pulled to the window and to the grey skies outside as they followed the flight of a bird. It would probably rain soon. Something was trying to reach his consciousness, but he couldn’t figure out what exactly. It was on the third ring of the doorbell that he finally realized someone was at the door. Getting up from the burgundy velvet couch, he hiked his well-worn sweatpants up his hips and made for the front door. A mailman was standing there with a registered package, asking for his signature. After confirming he really was the intended recipient, he scribbled his name and closed the door, all the while frowning at the little brown package. He didn’t recognize the sender. His curiosity piqued, he headed back to the couch and started tearing up the tape, opening the box easily. Inside he found a little black book.

Even more confused, he took it out before discarding the empty box to his feet. The black leather was cool to the touch and still had that brand new smell. He opened it and after turning the flyleaf, his eyes went comically wide. Right there, tucked into the binding’s folds, was a check for 20,000$ written to his name from an anonymous donor. His hand shaking badly, he picked it up for closer inspection. The check couldn’t be real; it was certainly a cruel joke someone was playing on him. As he couldn’t find any issue with it, he turned his attention back to the book. Spotting his name at the top of the page, he started reading the message addressed to him.

I know things haven’t been great lately, that they haven’t been for a while. I hope this little game I came up with will be able to alleviate your sorrows and change that somewhat. You’ll find in this book an itinerary for the trip of a lifetime, with a few blank pages to fill with your thoughts. Once you feel that you’ve achieved what you set out to do, you may go on to the next destination. The 20,000$ enclosed is to be used towards this trip and this trip only. There is but one condition: if you accept to play this game, you must quit your job. I sincerely hope you’ll make the right decision and choose yourself. Enjoy!

He sat back on the couch’s cushions, needing the support. Clearly this person knew him, but he couldn’t figure out for the life of him who it might be. He didn’t think any of his friends or his mother would have that kind of money laying around to be spent on him. He wasn’t that close to any of his coworkers either. Then he thought back on a much more important detail: he would have to quit his job. How would the mysterious sender even know if he did? Or as a matter of fact, how would they know what he used the money for? He could clear up his credit card, maybe get a new car – his old Civic was starting to act up again. Undoubtedly the money would help, but the more he thought about it, the more he felt like this game was everything he needed. An excuse to quit a job that made him miserable and an all-paid vacation to help him get his bearings, all rolled into one.

Looking at the next page, all he saw was his first destination: Tokyo, Japan. He stared at the words, feeling excitation slowly bubbling up in his chest. He hadn’t felt that in a while. A smile spreading on his face, he pulled his laptop to him and set out to write and email his resignation letter to his boss. Feeling freer than he had in years, he quickly hopped in the shower and changed, laughing maniacally at the absurdity of the situation. He was jobless, and about to embark on an adventure, without any safety net.

Grabbing the check on his way out, he headed to the bank to deposit it into his account. The teller notified him that she needed to make a call first, and after being held for a few minutes on the phone, she apparently got the information she needed to process the deposit. The man wondered if the teller somehow knew to double-check if he’d met the one condition that would entail him to the money. He decided against questioning his good fortune.

As soon as he got back home, he booked a one-way ticket to Tokyo. In less than 24 hours, he would be on a plane, flying towards the unknown. He quickly updated his mother and closest friends so they wouldn’t worry about him, without giving away the details of his situation. Then, fishing his old backpack from the bottom of his closet, he started packing.

While on a plane to South America, the man took stock of the little black book, recalling its contents. It had been six weeks already. Six weeks since he’d left Chicago to tour the world. The book had brought him to countries he wouldn’t have ever dreamed of visiting. After experiencing firsthand the true meaning of ‘’cultural shock’’ in Japan, he’d hiked the Taiwanese mountains to enjoy a refreshing cup of oolong tea, had walked along one of the Seven Wonders of the World in China, headed to Greece where he’d impregnated himself with the rich history of the Ancient Era, had lazed around the labyrinth of Venice’s canals aboard a gondola, and had lost himself walking through the Scottish moors. The next few pages in the book had sent him to Africa, where his inner child had rejoiced at finally seeing the Giza pyramids, the Sphinx, the Temple of Osiris, and the majestic temple of Ramses II, Abu Simbel. That was the longest he’d stayed in one country since leaving Chicago. Something about this place had drawn him in, and if he wasn’t indulging in the cultural tourist attractions, he was seen riding camels through the desert, lost in his thoughts as the unforgiving sun beat down his back. He was always accompanied by a guide, of course – he knew how dangerous the desert could be. Once a week had passed and quite a few pages of the little black book had been filled with his musings, he’d felt ready to fly to his next destination. In South Africa, he’d participated in a safari, where he got to appreciate some of the most magnificent animals on Earth in their natural habitat. Blown away by this place that humanity hadn’t completely tainted yet and, seeing as he’d been living quite frugally on the money he was gifted, he’d made a generous donation to support conservation efforts in the region.

Shutting the book again, the man looked lovingly at what had become one of his most prized possessions. It had seen better days, its cover now more brown than black, the leather supple with frequent use. Its pages were not only filled with the things he’d seen and experienced, but also with the people he’d met along the way, and his feelings as he slowly came to term with events of his life that had unknowingly plagued his psyche. As he’d poured his heart out on the pages, he’d finally felt peace. He noticed that about three quarters of the pages had been used, which matched the seven thousand dollars that were left from his initial budget. He knew there weren’t many stops left before he had to get back to reality, to his life in Chicago. While going back might have once filled him with dread, he was now feeling more optimistic. He still didn’t know what he wanted to do upon his return, but he knew the pieces of the puzzle that was his life would eventually all fit nicely.

He decided to enjoy his last couple of weeks of freedom to the fullest. Landing in Rio de Janeiro, he visited the statue of Christ the Redeemer before luxuriating in all that the city’s nightlife had to offer – a paradox, he knew, but the contrast made him feel alive. He then flew to Peru, where he hiked his way to the Machu Picchu, which he felt incredibly lucky was still open to the public. His mysterious donor finally sent him all the way to Whistler, Canada. There, he spent an embarrassing amount of time sitting in a ski lodge, looking out to the vast expanse of white snow in wonder. All at once, he felt utterly insignificant, but also like he could achieve anything he’d set his mind to. It was an interesting feeling, and one that perfectly described the last eight weeks he’d spent travelling.

It was already summer when he finally got back to his apartment in Chicago. He would have thought ‘’home sweet home’’, but he’d realized by now that home is within yourself; it’s where your heart is, and what you make of it. He sat down on his couch, wondering what his next step should be now that the little black book wouldn’t tell him where to go. He took said book out of his backpack and felt the worn leather of the cover, a soft smile on his face as he thought back on all that had happened to him these past two months. He flipped through the pages, memories flashing behind his eyes. It had indeed been the trip of a lifetime, something he wouldn’t soon forget. He was about to close the book when he noticed a message scribbled in a noticeably different handwriting in the blank signature pages. His eyes hungrily followed along the sloppy cursive.

I didn’t have much to give you, but I had this. I can’t say how much I regret bailing out on you. I know this trip won’t make up for all I’ve done, or not done in this case… But I hope that, while it might not have given you all the answers you wanted, it might have helped you get to know yourself better. I hope you now know who you are, the real you, the guy I always knew you could be. The guy you might have been if only I’d been there for you. All I can wish for now, is for you to be happy. Enjoy your life and make the best of it! Love, your father xxx

The man slowly lowered the book, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. He felt dazed, unable to reconcile the words with the knowledge that it was his estranged father, who’d died late last year – or so he’d heard – who’d orchestrated this unexpected journey. The father who couldn’t be bothered to give him a call when he was just a child, the father who chose everything and everyone over him, was the man who’d sent him to find his true self. Who’d seen what he was missing and had devised this whole trip for him. He’d never done anything right in his life, but this… This, he’d gotten right, for crying out loud. It was too late to make amends now, but the man felt like maybe, just maybe, he could start forgiving his father. And just like that, the last piece of the puzzle fell into place.