The Last Wish

“Your next treatment is scheduled for Wednesday, Madam President.”

Eager assistant in a sharp charcoal suit stood in the doorway of Julia García’s ornate bedroom.

“Cancel it…”, she said flatly.

Any continuation of treatment wouldn't be anything more than just a ritual gesture meant to make her doctors feel better about themselves.

Madam President Julia García was too far gone to care about other people’s big egos.

“Robert!”, she called on her assistant as he was about to turn around and leave. “Bring me my old notebook, will you?”

“Certainly, Madam!”

…………..

…………..

“What could any of us gain from an unwritten book?”

The question was followed by a prolonged silence.

Julia raised her hand.

“That was a rhetorical question, Miss…”, professor glanced at the list “…García!”

His stern gaze fished her out from the crowd of freshmen. Julia’s arm retracted back down like a deep sea creature spooked by light. Faint chuckle rippled through the auditorium.

“The answer, if one wanted to give it a shot anyway, Miss García, would be, of course, ‘NOTHING’…”, professor continued.

“Nice going, idiot!”, she hissed at herself quietly.

...


Hispanic Languages & Literatures at the UCLA wasn’t the most practical choice but Julia was never pressured to pick anything more… advantageous.

“Everybody wants to be a leader these days but there is no one left to pick up the trash”, her father used to say.

He was one to know. His major? Philosophy at the Universidad de Guadalajara.

His most recent gig as a janitor in a hospital here in LA still was the one he was most proud of.

"Poor guy!"

…

It was getting late. Absent of the Californian sun's blatant flamboyance, the library transformed itself into a place of wonder with warm fairy light coming from the green glass table lamps. Julia returned all her due books but didn’t feel like rushing back to her crummy dorm room.

As a child she loved picking books from shelves at random and lose herself in them for hours. Her picks seemed to always have an uncanny relevance to her life’s situation at the time. It felt like looking in a kind of mirror…

Julia wasn’t superstitious but the thought of books being her life’s mirrors was mildly exciting, except for that one time when she picked “Fatherless Women” by Clea Simon on the day before dad’s accident.

“It was the kind of thing that makes you stop and think, no matter how rational you are, you know?”, she told her therapist afterwards.

Since then Julia didn’t play her 'mirror game' again even though she knew dad would most likely lecture her about the difference between a miracle and a rare event and about how silly she was to think a random book pick could predict his subsequent death.

Today, at the UCLA library, she resumed her ‘mirror game’. How could she not in a library such as this one?

“Let the roulette begin!”

She closed her eyes. Her fingertips glided across several spines. One particular book bound with smooth fabric attracted Julia’s touch the most. Her pick was bound with black satin. The light bounced off its surface in the most mesmerizing way.

“All right, let’s see where I’m at today!”

Julia took the book to the nearest table and riffled through it back and forth.

Blank.

“Looks like someone put their empty notebook on the shelf by mistake… Does it mean my life becomes empty now or am I going to be dead soon?”

Julia held on to her rational skepticism.

“Silly!”

She asked the librarian if he didn’t see anyone with that notebook earlier.

"Just take it and put it to good use", he said. “Due date is in two weeks! Enjoy your read but don’t lose yourself in it too much!”

His thin mouth grinned at his own joke but the rest of his pale face seemed unchanged.

…

She woke up before the beeper.

Dad visited her in a dream again last night. His visits always made her feel calm and safe. It was as if he had never left...

She recalled a memory of him teaching her how to draw monarch butterflies when she was little.

"Let's see if I can still remember..."

There was some time to kill before the Comparative Literature class.

She reached for her newly found notebook and grabbed a No2 pencil.

…

“Aaah! Ooooh! Gasp!”, the sounds of awe snapped her out of the excruciatingly boring lecture induced slumber. Everybody looked in her direction. Julia looked around and back at herself embarrassed. There was something on her sweatshirt...

“It’s a monarch butterfly!”, the lecturer pointed out. “This is the time of their migration!” His erudite tone didn't quite match the situation.

“How did it get in!”, a surfer dude type classmate wondered.

“Let’s see if we can let it outside. Miss García, would you mind?"

Julia approached one of the screen-less windows and opened it with care.

The insect flew out gracefully.

…

Julia took her notebook out of her night table drawer. It's been a week since the butterfly incident which by now she filed under the Rare Coincidences folder.

“Well, this is pretty pathetic but it doesn’t hurt to try…”, she thought with mild amusement while trying to locate her No2 pencil.

She drew a $100 bill, two $50s and one $20. Green colored pencil added a hint of realism.

“Now let it simmer for a few hours and see what gets cooked up!”

…

There was plenty of time to scan sidewalks and lawns around campus throughout the long weekend but Julia had no luck. Not even a penny and the room and board fees were due on Monday!

“I thought as much! Magic notebook, my ass!”

She fell asleep annoyed with herself.

...

Julia's 'dream dad' came back that night but he seemed distant and quiet as if he was holding a grudge. She tried to talk to him but he kept inching back until he disappeared into the fog. It was Julia's last dad dream for a very long time...

...

Her phone was on silent again so the call went through the voicemail.

Hello, Miss García? My name is Stacy Brown from the financial aid office. I’m calling to inform you that due to additional expenses our scholarship recipients must face early in the academic year, we will be reimbursing them for all the learning materials they had to cover from their own pockets. You are eligible to receive three hundred dollars towards your room and board fees. We are sorry for the inconvenience. Let us know if we can help in any way.

“Huh!” Julia put down her phone.

“Not exactly $220 and not exactly in cash but… hey!”

She hugged and kissed her new notebook as if it was a cute puppy.

“Looks like I’m about to gain quite a bit from an unwritten book after all, professor!”, she thought with cunning glee.

Everything was going to change.

……………

……………

The problem was that Julia García couldn’t think of a way to draw ‘not having cancer’. Although her drawing skills were spectacular, sketching a likeness of herself smiling or 'walking on sunshine' didn’t yield any actual results. It was much easier to draw a giant diamond or a bag of money...

Writing her wishes down with words never worked either. Besides, as Julia came to learn over the years, the notebook was granting wishes in less than precise way.

After sixty two years its pages were filled with all sorts of wonders. Which of her achievements were a result of hard work and which were conjured by the black notebook? She liked to believe it was a little bit of both...

...

Dull tip of Julia’s pencil pressed against the only blank page left in the notebook.

Her hand was shaky but her lines steady as ever.

“Here comes my last wish!”, she said to the notebook.

...

Her newly drawn likeness of dad was spot on!

It made her feel calm and safe. It was as if he had never left.

The black notebook slipped off her hands and landed on the floor with a hollow thud.

Dad came to her in a dream again.

This time he stayed.