The Black Book.

     “Ten thousand dollars? It’s a lifesaving surgery, this shouldn’t cost this much. Doesn’t my insurance cover this?” Pierre said desperately over the phone

     “I’m sorry sir, but your insurance dropped you for missed payments.” Said a silky voice in response

     Pierre hung up before angrily tossing the phone across the room. This wasn’t fair. He was a good man, why was this happening to him? Mountains of bills piled up closing in around him like walls, his parents had moved here from France sold on the promise of a better life. Instead, all they had found was hardship, his father had worked long hours stressed to the point that he died of a stroke. Now it was just Pierre and his sick mother. He did what he could for her, but with her declining health and the never-ending deluge of bills Pierre found himself under, he didn’t know what he would do. Pierre felt as though he was drowning.  

     “Pierre, come here cher.” A voice called out weakly

     “I’ll be right there, mama.” Pierre said trying to mask his stress

     Pierre, quickly went into the kitchen and gathered up his mother’s dinner and her medicine. It was some soup, Pierre hated to give this to her, but it was the only food she could keep down anymore. Now he found himself walking to her room, his every step feeling heavier and heavier with a deep dread. Pierre’s dread was twofold, on the one hand he dreaded seeing his mother in this state, slowly withering away to a form he couldn’t recognize. On the other hand, he dreaded the day when he walked into this room and he found her cold and still. As sick as his mother was, and as much as she suffered, he selfishly didn’t want his mother gone. Pierre loved her too much to see her gone. Now he stood outside, bracing himself to enter the room, bracing himself to see his mother. Pierre took a deep breath and entered his mother’s bedroom. It was still full of her personality, full of flowers and beauty. Seeing her room bought tears to Pierre’s eyes.

     “Oh cher, why are you crying? Did the call with the insurance company go well?” Pierre’s mother asked

     “It went fine, mom. Don’t you worry about that, you need to rest.” Pierre lied trying to keep his mother’s spirits up

     “Oh Pierre, you’ve never been a good liar, If the call went well you wouldn’t be crying.” Pierre’s mother said sweetly

     “I guess you’ve got me there. I bought you some soup, you need to eat to keep your strength up.” Pierre responded in a defeated tone.

     “Oh Pierre, you give me all the strength I need. The fact that your father and I raised such a good man makes me incredibly proud. I have all the strength I need; I’ll be with your father soon and I’m content. You don’t need to worry for me so much. In fact, I’ll call my nurse, why don’t you go out tonight? You deserve some time to yourself.” Pierre’s mother said amicably

     “Ok mom.” Pierre said in a defeated tone before kissing her forehead and leaving the room cause

     Pierre wanted to feel content with his mother’s decision, but again he found himself selfishly wanting more. He wanted her to fight. He knew she felt this way because she missed his father and because she knew what Pierre knew, that there was no way to pay for her mounting medical bills or surgeries. It was a depressing and unwinnable situation, for his mother she was looking at the silver lining. For Pierre though he felt as though he was lost in a storm freezing and wet with no shelter. Pierre decided he would take his mother up on her offer, he would go home to his apartment, take a nice relaxing shower, get blackout drunk, and then he would sleep. After that, he would be able to be able to return to his mother with a renewed vigor.

     As Pierre left his mothers to head to his car, he noticed how beautiful the night was. The sunset was particularly striking. As he looked upon its beauty, Pierre felt a pang of regret. In what seemed like another life at this point, Pierre had wanted to be an artist, he was even enrolled in art school. Unfortunately, his mother got sick and he had to make a choice, his passion or his family? Pierre had chosen the latter, and although he loved his mother and wanted her well, he always felt bitter about what could have been. Before he got any more upset Pierre got in his car and quickly drove to his apartment. As he walked inside, he could already feel his strength returning. Just he thought of being back I n his own space and not his childhood bedroom did wonders in recharging his batteries. There was a large pile of mail on his coffee table, Pierre thought about going through it, but thought better of it. Tonight, was about self-care and Pierre wouldn’t let anything ruin it. The real world could wait till morning. Instead, Pierre when over to his bar cart and mixed himself a drink. He turned on some jazz, reclined in his favorite chair, and let the music take him on a journey. After a while, Pierre drifted off into a comfortable nap.

     Pierre dreamed of a perfect world. There was a knock at his door. It was his father Jacques. There were tears in his eyes as he hugged the man. Pierre’s father had met everything to him, and he had shaped much of the man Pierre saw when he looked in the mirror. The day when he had his stroke still haunted Pierre to this day. To see such a strong man felled in such a way seemed to be a cruel irony. But now here Jacques was healthy and looking at Pierre rather perplexed.

     “I know you’re an affectionate boy, but that hug, you’re acting like you haven’t seen me in years. Anyway, you’re running late we have to get to your gallery opening.” Jacques said hastily

     “Gallery opening? But I had to drop out of art school, mom is sick.” Pierre said thickly

     “Your mom is sick? That’s news to me. As far as I know she’s meeting us at the gallery. Now hurry, get your things, you can’t be late to your own opening.” Jacques said hurrying Pierre out the door

     As the two men left the apartment Pierre’s surroundings seemed to dissolve and morph before his eyes, together he and his father walked into a nondescript building. Inside was a space full of many works of Pierre’s some that he finished and others he had only dreamed about. Pierre followed Jacques to what he assumed was the centerpiece of the exhibit. The first thing Pierre noticed was his mother, she was healthy, she was glowing, and she was the life of the room. The woman she was before she got sick. His father immediately went over to her and picked her up twirling her around like a ballerina before pulling her close and passionately kissing her. It did Pierre’s heart good to see his parent’s happy, heathy, and together. It was a sight Pierre hadn’t seen in a long time. For a while he stood there and took in the sight.

     “Oh, mon bien-amie, I love you so much, Lucrece.” Said Jacques continuing to kiss his wife.

     “I love you too you silly man, now let me go. You’re making a scene!” Lucrece squealed playfully.

     “Of course, I’m making a scene! I’m in love and I don’t care who knows it, I’ll shout it from the rooftops!’ Jacques said happily

     “Well mon amour, to shout from the rooftops your vocal cords must be properly lubricated, and mine should be as well so I can scream back how much I love you. So get us some drinks. I want to talk to the artist” Lucrece said tenderly before kissing Jacques

      Pierre watched as his father headed over to the refreshments, seeming to dissolve into the crowd, leaving Pierre alone with his mother. She calmly walked over to Pierre, seeming to glide as she did so. Lucrece seemed ethereal in her movements, Pierre was reminded of one of the last pieces he had worked on, it was a picture that Pierre would have displayed at his mother’s funeral. Pierre had never finished it however. The concept had been too painful. Now here Lucrece stood resplendent in her beauty. Pierre, was moved to tears.

     “Cher, why are you crying? This is a happy day.” Lucrece said wiping Pierre’s face

     “They’re tears of joy, mama.” Pierre said to his mother

     “Ok then, if you say so. I want you to come with me. Let’s look at your masterpiece.” Lucrece said taking Pierre’s hand

     Lucrece led Pierre to the center of the room which was dominated by a massive painting of an innocuous black book. Everyone in the room seemed enthralled by it. But for Pierre it felt wrong, the painting of the book seemed dark and foreboding. He wanted nothing to do with it, Pierre felt drawn to the painting as though it was his destiny. The longer he stared at the painting everything seemed to fade away. Soon Pierre was alone in the space with the painting, it was as cold and empty as Pierre had ever felt. Somewhere in the gallery there was a loud ringing, Pierre didn’t know what it was but he ran for it, but he felt as though he was in quicksand. As hard as Pierre fought, he was being drawn back to the painting. He felt as though he was being drawn in, the ringing.  continued and Pierre was terrified. Just then, Pierre woke up drenched in sweat in his apartment. The ringing he had heard was his cell phone.

     Looking at the display, he saw that his mother’s nurse Bianca was calling him. He cleared his head and prepared to speak with her, Pierre had originally said that the real world could wait until tomorrow but after his dream he could use a bit of reality.

     “Hello? Is everything alright, Bianca?” Pierre asked groggily

“Oh yes, everything is fine. Ms Lucrece has had her medicine and eaten her dinner. She’s resting now, I’ll stay here for the night and leave when you come back in the morning.” Bianca said sweetly.

     “Thank you, Bianca, you’re a lifesaver. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” Pierre said gratefully

     “Please, Pierre you’re too modest. Your mom helped me a lot getting through school, the least I could do was give back where I can.”

     “I miss you, Bianca.” Pierre said, almost immediately regretting his words.

     “Oh, I uh, I miss you too Pierre.” Bianca said awkwardly before quickly hanging up

     Pierre felt like such a fool, what had he been thinking? It was true, he did miss Bianca. He might have even loved her, but there was no chance for their love to grow while he was dealing with his mother. At least that was what he had told her when He ended their relationship, things had been strained between them ever since. Pierre wanted nothing more than to love Bianca the way his father had loved his mother, but he felt as though he had irreparably damaged what they had. As he thought on his situation with Bianca Pierre heard a knock on the door, He wasn’t expecting company but he quickly got up to check and see who it was.

     When Pierre opened the door, he saw nothing. At first, he was going to chalk it up to playful kids, then when he looked down, he saw it. That damned book! The same one from the dream, Pierre felt a sickening wave of déjà vu as the memories of his dream rushed back., Aside from the book, there was an envelope. Glancing around furtively, Pierre gathered up the envelope and the book and went back into his apartment. He put the envelope and the book on his table and paced, he was unsure of how to proceed next. Pierre took a shaky deep breath and opened the envelope. Pierre was shocked to pull out a stack of crisp hundred-dollar bills. Counting it, Pierre was shocked to find five thousand dollars. Pierre was both shocked and confused, this didn’t make any sense. Maybe it was some sort of mistake? That had to be it, maybe the book would have some answers for him. He cautiously reached for the book. He couldn’t understand why he was so afraid; the book was innocuous it was just a black book. Yet Pierre felt that if he opened this book, nothing would ever be the same. He just decided to tear off the band aid. Opening the book only led to more confusion. On the first line in simple text was an address. Without anymore thought, Pierre grabbed the money, the book, and his car keys. He would end this before it went any further.

     After a half hour drive where he consistently second guessed himself, Pierre arrived outside of an unassuming office building. He shuddered at the thought of entering it, but Pierre swallowed his fear and entered the building. Most of the rooms were dark, save for one. Pierre entered cautiously. The room was empty, save for two people, and dollars man sitting idly at a desk, sipping a drink. The other sat tied to a chair with a bag over his head, Pierre immediately assumed a trap.

     “Relax Mr. La Fleur, If I wanted you dead, I wouldn’t have given you five thousand dollars, now would I?” The man said casually continuing to drink

     “Look, I don’t know what you want I just came to give you this money back!” Pierre said putting the money on the desk.

     “Before you do anything hasty. Hear me out. I have a preposition for you. I’ve already given you five thousand, how would you like another fifteen thousand?” the stranger asked

“Explain yourself.” Pierre said pausing

“It’s simple, you can make twenty thousand dollars. All you have to do is kill that man in the chair.” The stranger said silkily

“You’re insane!” Pierre said moving quickly for the door

“That’s unfortunate, and here I thought you loved your mother.” The stranger said tauntingly

“What do you know about my mother?” Pierre asked darkly

“I know you’ve got a golden opportunity to help her with that surgery and all those bills and you’re being too selfish to take it.” The stranger continued

“You don’t know anything about me or my mother! You don’t know how much I’ve sacrificed, or how much I love her. You keep your mouth shut!” Pierre thundered

“I hear a lot of words, but I’m giving you the opportunity to take action. All you need do is take it.” The stranger said

Pierre wanted so badly to just turn around and walk out of this place, but the selfish side of him kept him rooted in place. He turned back towards the desk and saw the small case full of money, and he knew that he’d be a selfish fool to turn away from it. To be this close and do nothing, he would never be able to look his mother in the eye again. Steeling himself, Pierre walked over to the bound man, wrapped his hands around his throat, closed his eyes, thought of his mother, and squeezed.