ABUNDANCE

A Little Black Book

(a short story)

Peter Narsic stormed out of the employment office, the glass door swinging wildly behind him. "They don't know what they are doing!" he thought to himself, as he hurried along the sidewalk, nearly bumping into and knocking over several pedestrians moving in the opposite direction. He had been out of work for four months, and after striking out again today he was down to what he had in the change jar on his dresser and the few dollars he now had in his pocket.

He moved against the brick wall to his left to avoid a kid coming at him on a skateboard and stumbled over a package someone left against the wall. It was a bundle of brown paper and string, about a foot square, with a small hole ripped in one side. Something green was showing through the opening, and he took a closer look. It was the corner of a twenty-dollar bill, the denomination showing clearly. On top of the package lay a little black notebook. He pushed it aside and looked around, to ensure no one was watching, and picked up the package. Without hesitating he began to walk again, staying close to the wall, looking over his shoulder every few moments to see if anyone was following him.

Nelson Humbold walked lightly along; his belly satisfied by the roast beef sandwich he had just finished off for lunch at the corner deli. He really didn't want to go back to work, but he had called a team meeting for 1:30 this afternoon, so he had to get back to be prepared in time. He was grateful for his management job but didn't enjoy the responsibility and stress that went with it. He often thought of a simpler lifestyle, but felt stuck where he was because the pay was good, and where else could he make as much?

Focused on his thoughts instead of where he was going, Nelson tripped over something near the brick wall he was walking along. He caught his balance and turned around to see what it was. The culprit was a little black notebook. Curious, he picked it up and flipped open the cover. As he read what was written inside, the corners of his mouth turned down with interest and he nodded his head slightly. He closed the notebook again, stuck it into his back pocket, and continued on his way.

Peter could not believe his good fortune. His struggles were over. The package he had stumbled upon contained $20,000 in cash. Over the past two weeks he had deposited unequal portions of it into different banks, opening three new accounts, to avoid the suspicion one large transaction would have attracted. Now he stood in the car dealership, ready to buy a car that would show everyone who he really was.

He decided on the 2012 Cadillac Escalade, black, with lots of chrome trim and a gray faux-leather interior. He was able to negotiate a cash price of $16,000, which left him with $4,000. He would pay his rent, and then go to the casino.

Nelson sat in his office and stared blankly at the large, garish, abstract lithograph that hung on the wall facing him. His mind was wandering, filled with new thoughts of hope and possibility. He had finished reading the contents of the little black notebook he had found two weeks before, and the information he absorbed from it had changed him.

He had come to realize that this job, this lifestyle, this way of life was not for him. He felt like the proverbial hamster on a wheel, pouring out effort, but never getting any closer to the destination of happiness. He had a very nice apartment, a brand-new car, a closet-full of fashionable clothes, but none of these things provided true fulfillment. In fact, he wasn't even sure his girlfriend, Felicity, was attracted to him, or his stuff.

Peter looked at the cards in his hand. The jack of spades and three of diamonds looked like his enemies. The dealer across from him was obviously conspiring to ruin him, but if he didn't try to win his money back, he would have lost over seven hundred dollars today. When he first came to the casino two weeks ago with nearly $3,000 in hand, he felt invincible. After several good runs of blackjack, he had won almost another $2,000. He figured he could do this a few days a week, and maybe he wouldn't need to get a job.

If he stopped now he would have less than the $3,000 he started with, and he still had to pay the utility company and his cell phone bill this week. "Hit me!" he commanded the spiteful dealer, who deftly flicked a ten of clubs onto the green felt tabletop in front of him. "Damn it!" he shouted, throwing the cards in his hand down in disgust. The last of his chips gone, he quickly got up from his chair and walked toward the exit.

Nelson felt exhilarated as he hit the return key, finishing his final eBay post of the evening. He had made the decision to resign his position at the firm, and volunteer at the homeless shelter in his neighborhood. When he walked out of his boss's office, he felt free for the first time since he could even remember, and a physical weight seemed to lift from his shoulders and away from his chest. His savings and the proceeds from selling most of his material belongings online would allow him to live without working for at least six months, longer if he wanted to dip into his 401k and pay the penalty. Plus, he had given notice to his landlord that he was moving to a small studio in the same neighborhood for half the rent.

"This is such a blessing," he thought, sitting back against the sofa cushions without a care in the world. "I think I'll keep this," he said aloud, patting the soft fabric next to his leg. "It's very comfortable."

Peter threw the pencil down and picked up the bottle of Scotch. The figures he had just written down confirmed he would be broke in another two weeks if he paid all of his bills, including the ones that were already late. And then he wouldn't be able to pay next month's rent. He would have to use the money instead at the casino to hopefully get ahead again. He took two long swallows of the whiskey and then set the bottle down. It was as good a plan as any.

Nelson entered the shelter as he did every morning with a big smile on his round face. He had never been happier. There was not a thing in the world that he wanted or seemed to need. Felicity had broken up with him when he made the decision to quit his job, but he not only didn't miss her, it was a relief to have her gone. She was often cranky unless he was buying her things.

"Good morning, everyone!" he called cheerfully to the other staff as he walked from the entrance to the kitchen in the back. He lately had been in charge of organizing and stocking the donated canned goods, which were in great supply since he had reached out to nearby supermarkets to supplement what was delivered by individuals throughout the week.

Peter thought bitterly, "so it's come down to this," as he picked up the two cards that would perhaps make up his final hand. He sat alone at the blackjack table, his clothes dirty, as he had been wearing the same t-shirt and jeans for a week. He hadn't bathed in nearly that long, having been evicted from his apartment three weeks after he failed to pay the rent. Everything he owned had been left behind, as he had nowhere else to go and nowhere to take it.

He had been drinking now constantly for many weeks and had blown what money he wasn't gambling with on cheap booze. He turned the cards over and smiled at the queen of hearts and king of spades that revealed themselves. "Finally!" he chuckled. He had wagered his last fifty bucks on this hand, and it would be a good time to begin his comeback. The dealer had a ten of hearts showing. Peter watched his hand slowly move to flip over the other card, and in what seemed like a slow-motion dream sequence, the ace of spades came into clear view, and mocked him.

Nelson agreed to become the assistant manager at the shelter after volunteering there for only a month. He was now paid a small weekly salary, which he donated anonymously right back to the shelter. The great satisfaction he felt from helping others was a little surprising at first, but the more he put into this new endeavor, the happier he became. Understanding the plights of others had taught him to feel enormous gratitude about his own situation, something he never felt during what he now called his "former life." The help he provided the unfortunate souls he encountered every day humbled him and filled his life with purpose.

Peter, nearly starving, asked a street vendor for a bite of anything he could spare. The man angrily told him to get away from his cart, but yells after him that there is a homeless shelter around the corner. Peter looked back at him, spitting on the sidewalk, then wandered off in that direction. When he reached the entrance to the shelter, he looked around, as if saying goodbye to something, and stumbled inside. A dumpy little man greeted him, smiling cheerfully.

Nelson noticed a tall, haggard man walk hesitantly into his shelter, and went to greet him. The man was probably handsome at some point in his life, but his face was now drawn, pale and streaked with dirt.

"How can I help you," Nelson asked the homeless man.

"I need food," Peter answered, both angry and ashamed of himself.

"Of course. Please come this way." Nelson led the man to a chair in the back at a table near the kitchen. "Have a seat. I'll be right back."

Peter fidgeted in the chair and looked around the shelter randomly, at the people, the posters on the wall, the faded tile floor. He looks down and noticed a little black notebook on the table in front of him. It looked familiar. He picked it up with his shaking right hand and opened the cover with his left. One word was written on the first page, in large letters: "Abundance."

"Oh, I see you found my notebook," Nelson said as he came back into the room, carrying a plate full of hot canned spaghetti and a cold glass of milk.

"Where did you get it?" Peter asked without looking up. He had turned to the next page.

"I found it on the sidewalk just a few blocks from here. I know this will sound funny, but it changed my life."

"Changed your life?" Peter said, reading as he spoke.

"Yes. I've never been happier"

"So, it's one of those get rich schemes?"

"Quite the contrary. I had plenty of money. But I was miserable. Why don't you borrow it." Nelson suggested as he watched the man continue to read. "Maybe it can help you, too."

"Sure," Peter replied, his eyes continuing to trace back and forth across the pages. "I've got nothing to lose."