The Notebook











"Quiet down class, quiet down" the Spanish teacher said in his foreign accent. It was 12:13 p.m., just after lunch, and we all were ready to call it a day and go home. The room was filled with chatter and no one, as always, was paying attention to Mr. Mario as he taught. I as usual was trying to listen to my friend Justin while I observed every little unique thing happening in the room. Mike lying at Katie's feet moaning in pain from being hit in the gut, Amanda reading the latest Twilight book for the third time, Mary, Molly, and Sophia running around flirting with Benjamin and Seth. Then across the room, William looking...looking down. Well this was strange, so I stood up and went to look where he was looking leaving Justin mid-story. When I reached his seat, I saw a pink notebook covered with hand-drawn hearts made with black sharpie. I flipped through the pages expecting to find it filled with notes to keep the unknown owner entertained during class. The pages where all blank. Not a single spec on them, but in between two pages was a tattered, yellowed note folded in fourths. Even though I should have just let it go, dropped the notebook and returned to the now angered Justin, I unfolded the note instead. Inside this note was a message written in old calligraphy. I slowly looked at William for some kind of approval before I began to read, he nodded once. The message read: If you can find me then you will have the key to all the answers in your head. Find me before four you can walk right out the door with out thinking of this anymore. Nevertheless, if you fail to locate, you my friend, your soul will be cursed for eight.


I felt my face turn completely white. Was it just coincidence that I had found it? No, there is no way, I mean this note was so old, tattered, and garnished with stains due to aging that there could absolutely be no way that it was written in this decade, nor in 2008. And what did it mean by eight? Eight years, centuries, lives, or generations? While the information on the note was percolating through my mind, William had slowly slithered the note out of my clinched hands and began to read. After the few minutes that he had taken to analyze the note repeatedly his eyes finally met mine. His eyes where bright hazel, the size of golden dollars and looking at me with worry. We both knew that something had to be done and quick. The question was; what?


William and I went through almost every record we could find in the school to see if we could find out who wrote this. We told no one, afraid that we might be suspended for thinking such thing. We both were guessing Mr.Willywanka had written the note on an old paper from when his grandfather was a kid. We suspected that he then sat it on the chair in the lost random notebook right before our Spanish class. He hated me because I had spilled some water on the tiled floor in his Science class by accident making him slip in front of the class and the principle . This made him the laughing stock of the school board and had ruined his reputation as the meanest, strictest teacher in the district. He would know that if I did find this note that I would be so preoccupied for the day that I would be paying no attention in class causing me to fail. This would be perfect payback for him and he was the only teacher who knew calligraphy in the whole school. He was the perfect suspect. He was the culprit.


On the way to our last class of the day, we had discussed trying to find if there was any other person who could have done left the note. There was no one else who could think of a scheme as well planned out as this one and willing to take the time to complete it.


During study hall, William came to me in the library. I was looking at the records of students enrolled in the school since it was opened 30 years ago. William ,being his usual officious self, sat down across from me at the old round wooden table and picked up a book to help. Tick, tick, tick the clock was now screaming at me. It was now 3:00, we had exactly one hour before the deadline and I was starting to feel light headed from the stress level of this whole antagonizing event. I had been flipping through records on a "social studies project that was for extra credit" for more than an hour now and not one single thing on Mr.Willywanka. It was so frustrating to me. Why couldn't I find anything? I collapsed into my chair with all my hope now faded. Doubt and worry came in like a fog. If it weren't for the worried look on William's face while he stared at me wondering what he should do, I would have imploded into a tantrum right then and there. I finally just decided to pick up a book, after all I had nothing to loose. I was already reprobated. As I was scrolling across the words in this huge dusty book that should be in a museum, I came across a last name that I recognized from 1979.


I audaciously sprinted out of the library and down the empty halls. All you could hear was my hard breathing and my feet smacking the floor. I took the next left and bashed into the door. I could hear William behind me, but there was no time to waste. I bounced up, kicked the door open with my shoe, and ran directly to the back of the room. I tried to scream, but no sound came out. I stopped inches away from slamming into Mr. Willywanka. I ran up to Patrick and asked him why? Patrick is my best friend. Why would he ever do this to me? He shrugged his shoulders and simply answered," I am moving. Now you have something to always remember me by and the paper was just lying there on the ground outside of my house." He looked up at me with amusement in his eyes that then turned into sorrow once he looked into mine. He realized I wouldn't forget him even if he hadn't gone to all of that trouble. He would always be my best friend. There was now detente between the two of us again. In a remorseful voice he said, "I am sorry." It was 3:58 P.M.