The Purple Notebook, By Catherine Yang

The thirty five year-old author Serena Sherman-Stuart sat at the side of her own private lake watching the sun set over the hills that wove into the countryside. Sighing, she plodded up the steps of her porch, where she picked up a notebook and pencil and began to write. She didn’t notice the old woman who was now climbing up the porch steps toward her.

Helen Sherman-Stuart laid a wrinkled hand on her only daughter’s shoulder. Serena gasped, crashing back to Earth. Looking up, she half-smiled a greeting to her mother.
“Have you had dinner yet Rena-girl?” Helen asked critically.
Sometimes her daughter accidentally skipped meals when she was too caught up in her writing. When she faced writer’s block she often sat there staring off into space until her mother had to find her and drag her back into the house.
“Mom, I’m all right okay? Jeez. And please don’t call me that.”
“I’ll leave then. I just wanted to say hi,” Helen answered sadly turning to leave. “Is something bothering you?”
“Oh no, I’m fine, ” Serena quickly replied. "Sorry." But the truth was, something was bothering her. Lately she’d been having nightmares of strangers warning her. As they grew more frequent Serena had become more irritable and apprehensive about nothing in particular.
The next morning Serena decided to take her boat for a ride in the cool morning before the hot summer sun would confine her indoors until evening. “A peaceful ride in my boat should refresh me,” she thought as she grabbed a blank purple notebook and pencil.
As Serena neared the middle of the lake she turned the engine off and pulled out her notebook and pencil. But before she could start writing anything she knew something wasn’t right. Then Serena spotted a whirlpool not far away, and it was getting bigger and closer to her. Soon it was right in front of her boat and Serena could see that everything was getting sucked in along with fish and other debris. Before she knew it, Serena realized it was too late and that she too would be sucked in. Before she could even turn the engine back on the boat was already spinning out of control, spiraling nearer and nearer to the bottom of the whirlpool, where Serena knew her beautiful boat would smash into pieces while she herself drowned. Now she was getting closer and closer to the bottom. She knew she would drown without her life jacket on. She closed her eyes and waited for death.
But after a minute nothing happened at all. In fact, when Serena opened her eyes again she was back in her boat. “wierd...” she thought. Had she just imagined it all? No. It was too realistic. And besides, she was dripping wet. But then why was she here? She realized she was cold and wet and her notebook and pencil were nowhere in sight. &nsbs;&nsbs;&nsbs;&nsbs;&nsbs;“Did I imagine everything?” she thought. “Wait. Not everything is the same… Where exactly is my house anyway?!” Serena wondered aloud, on the verge of delirium. “I need to get back home and take a nap.”
After she started the motor and the boat was gliding smoothly toward shore, Serena took in her surroundings. The trees that grew next to the lake seemed smaller than they were before. As she neared the dock she knew that something was definitely different about the place. A big sign was planted firmly into the soil where the dock ended. “PRIVATE PROPERTY” It read. “NO TRESPASSING”
Serena quickly tied her boat to the dock as quick as she could while eyeing the strange sign. She didn’t understand where it had come from. She knew she had never put a sign next to the dock. She had put her own “No Trespassing” sign on the trail to the lake but never next to it.
Serena ran quickly to the door of the house nearest to the lake. After she knocked a few times an old woman wearing and apron who looked to be in her mid sixties answered the door.

"Yes?” Wendy Sherman asked kindly when she saw the startled look on the face of the stranger who had knocked on her door.
"Hi.” the woman replied, her voice shaky. “I’m kind of lost...Could you help me please? I need…” she didn’t seem to know how to finish her greeting.
Wendy decided she could trust this stranger. "I’m Wendy. Why don’t you come in and have some apple pie while you dry up? You can borrow my daughter Helen’s old clothes to wear. I’m sure she won’t mind since she and her sister have already moved out, though your clothes do look a bit odd. We can sit and chat.”
“That would be great, thank you.” said the woman. “By the way, my name’s...Sarah.”

Wendy was known to be very kind to strangers and friends alike. She was always offering people snacks and inviting them in. Her daughters often told her she shouldn’t invite whoever came by into her house but Wendy didn’t care. She liked company and was very talkative.
As Wendy stepped aside for her new guest to pass she wondered about this Sarah. She looked oddly familiar, yet Wendy knew she had never seen this person before. “I guess I’ll find out soon,” Wendy thought as she headed toward her youngest daughter 's room to find some clothes for her new guest.

Serena sat dry now on a leather couch and looked around. The living room she was sitting in was well furnished, with cream colored walls and white curtains.
Something had told her not to use her real name, but to use her cousin's. She was glad someone had offered her a place to sit. She needed to think. But then her eyes landed on a calendar on the wall across from her. “Wait a minute,” she thought. “This calendar isn’t correct. It’s at least thirty years old!”
Before Serena could think anymore of the strange calendar Wendy entered with a tasty-looking apple pie in her hands.
As they ate and chatted, Serena found that she and Wendy shared a lot of the same interests, though Serena found it weird answering to her cousin’s name. When Wendy asked her where she was from Serena pretended she was traveling and had gotten lost in the town. It was half true anyway. Fortunately, Wendy didn’t dwell on the subject.
When Serena remembered the calendar and asked about it Wendy seemed surprised and said that it was perfectly up to date. “Okay, this is strange,” thought Serena “Maybe Wendy is just a bit confused about what date it is.” Serena assured herself. It wasn’t like she had traveled back in time.
But her fears were confirmed when Wendy started to talk about a recent election for a new president. Serena wanted to stand up and shout out who the real president was. But she settled into thinking to herself while tuning out her hostess’s endless chatter. “So this must be the past. I traveled back in time thirty years! That means the past me should be in school right about now,” Serena thought as she glanced at the clock hanging on the wall behind Wendy.

After Serena had said goodbye to Wendy she headed toward her old school not far away. As she skipped down the street not really noticing her surroundings she thought about her childhood. Good memories, bad memories, everything flooded back to her. Now Serena wanted more than ever to see it again in person.
Serena entered her school campus. It was just like she remembered it; a big field where students ate lunch, a slide and an old swing set in front of a small brick building with little windows scattered along the walls. She entered the front door under a big red sign that read, ANDERSON ELEMENTARY SCHOOL.
Once inside, Serena recognized each bold number on the doors to the classrooms: #2…#4…#6…#8…#10. Serena’s heart pounded as she reached for the doorknob of room 10. This was her fourth grade classroom. Now Serena took a deep breath and opened the door silently. When she stepped in she expected everyone to turn and stare at her. But no one even noticed her. “This is strange,” she thought. “Not even my old teacher Mrs. Smith noticed me.”
But one student did. Serena took in the girl’s glasses and curly red hair. She looked familiar. As Serena studied the girl she didn’t notice that the little girl had raised her hand and asked her teacher who “this lady” was.
"Why Rena,” Mrs. Smith replied, glancing up over her glasses. “The only lady here is me.” Snickers echoed across the room while Rena’s face turned the color of her hair.
"What?!” Serena almost shouted out loud when she heard the teacher’s response.
So no one could see her. Except for that girl Rena. Then Serena remembered that her childhood nickname was Rena. And an idea began forming in her head, but Serena knew it would have to wait. So she slipped out of the classroom feeling Rena’s confused gaze bore through her.
When Serena heard the bell ring she knew it was time to put her plan into action. Rena didn’t deserve to be laughed at when she was telling the truth about what she saw. And Serena intended to change that.
As soon as the students poured out of the building with their lunches Serena looked around for Rena. She finally found the girl making her way to the corner of the field with her best friend, who Serena faintly remembered. Chrystal. That was her name. She and Chrystal had been best friends since Kindergarden, but Chrystal had moved away after fifth grade and they soon had forgotten about each other.

When Rena saw that the woman who had interrupted her class was approaching, the girl pretended to ignore her.
“May I talk to you for a second?” The woman beckoned as soon as she got close enough.
Rena pretended not to hear her. And was unable to believe that no one else had noticed. Not even Chrystal. Maybe she was seeing a ghost. And no one else could see the ghost except for her. “How exciting!” she thought. “Maybe this will be like in the books where a person meets a ghost and they talk to each other and become friends!” but she didn’t want to risk being laughed at again and kept on eating her lunch.
But as usual, curiosity got her in the end and she decided that she had nothing to lose.
Rena stood up. “I’m gonna use the bathroom and I’ll be right back okay?” Rena lied to her friend.
“Sure,” mumbled Chrystal, who was too busy studying something in the grass. So Rena followed the ghost behind the school.

Serena couldn’t believe that it had been this easy to make little Rena follow her.
"Did you know that I have maaaaagical powers?" Serena announced, exaggerating the first syllable in the word magical to make sure Rena had heard her right. "I know everything that will happen to you in the future! Doesn't that sound ex-” "Are you a ghost? 'cause it seems like no one can see you or hear you except me.”
“I’m not a ghost, I’m magic,” Serena answered calmly.
But the girl didn’t seem to hear. “Are you old? How old are you? Can you fly? Can you walk through walls?"
The questions flew at Serena faster than she could answer them. Clearly this girl had been reading too much fantasy. Then (finally) the most reasonable question: “What’s your name?”
"My name,” Serena replied. “isn’t important. I told you I’m magic.”
“If your name isn’t Important, then why did you already tell me what it was, Magic?”
“Okay, we aren’t getting anywhere,” Serena sighed. The girl clearly knew how to get on peoples' nerves! “Listen. I know a way to make people believe you saw me.” Immediately Rena snapped to attention and stopped talking.
“How?” she whispered.
“Just tell everyone that what you saw was a ghost, not that I am one," said Serena, refusing to whisper back. "And I’ll poke them or scribble on the board or something. That ought to make them believe you.”
"I love it." squealed the girl, rubbing her hands together. And together they hatched a plan that they were sure would freak everyone out. Then the bell rang and Serena followed Rena back into her classroom, where Chrystal was so hurt she didn't even look look for Rena. But Rena of course was so excited about getting people to finally understand her that she didn't even notice.
After Serena was finished freaking out the whole class she opened the door wide before she left the classroom as an extra effect. Walking down the hall Serena told herself that she had done something good. And although little Rena had giggled a couple of times they had done great. Now she had another problem to solve. How come only Rena and Wendy had seen and noticed her? Then Serena remembered Wendy’s last name. Sherman. Immediately her mind went to the word Stuart. And Wendy had said that daughter’s name was Helen…Wendy was her grandmother! No wonder! Only her family members and Rena, who was basically herself, could see and hear her.
Now all she needed was to get back home. Serena pondered this until she came up with an idea. “Maybe if I take my boat back to the lake and find that whirlpool again,” Serena thought.
As soon as her boat was skimming the water in the lake Serena felt confident that she would find the whirlpool again and find her way back to the present. “Oops, I forgot to give Mom’s clothes back,” she thought. "Oh, well, she won't miss it anyway.”
Serena’s boat glided gracefully around the lake for a long time but she couldn’t seem to find even a ripple of any kind. A seed of doubt planted itself in Serena’s mind and she began to wonder if she would ever be able to go back to the present again. She closed her eyes and took in the sunlight, debating whether or not to just go back to shore and try to live here. But Serena knew that that might be a bad idea. She didn’t have any money or job, and Wendy couldn’t take care of her forever.
But when Serena opened her eyes again she thought she spotted something on the far side of the lake and decided to check it out, though her hopes weren't very high. But the nearer she got, the more confident Serena became as she steered her boat toward the stirring part of the waters.
Sure enough, there was a huge whirlpool in front of her boat. Serena took a quick, calming breath and maneuvered her boat into it. She felt braver this time and wondered what would happen if she kept her eyes open. She neared the bottom of the whirlpool, spinning rapidly. Normally she might have felt sick from all the spinning, but it felt more like being in a ride at an amusement park than in a whirlpool. Serena let out a giggle of surprise and looked around.
At first everything looked normal. But wait. Was that a movement? Serena thought she was seeing things until images started flashing before her on all sides of the whirlpool: Rena was sitting alone on the field and Chrystal was walking the other way. Then another image: Everyone was staying away from Rena on the playground. Even the teachers kept their distance. The fear was plain on everyone’s face as they backed away whenever Rena came near. “She’s haunted.” They all thought. Then the image faded again and another replaced it. Rena, now in junior high, was talking to a councilor, who looked somewhat confused. More and more images appeared but the last one stood out: Rena was sitting in what looked like an apartment crying over a letter. Something told Serena that the letter said that her mother had traveled overseas and had had an accident that would keep her from ever coming back to the U.S.
The next second Serena was floating again in a lake on a kayak. “Is it over?” Serena thought, breaking out of her trance. “And why am I in a kayak?" And even though she wasn't wet this time, she started to panic. "Where is my lake?” Serena realized that this was definitely not her private lake. There were people everywhere floating in kayaks similar to hers.
Serena rowed her way toward shore where there was some kind of shack with stacks of kayaks the same color as Serena’s next to it.
As soon as Serena was close enough she could see that it was in fact, a boat rental area. She dragged her boat on shore and stumbled into the shack, where she managed to tell the man behind the counter that she wanted to return her boat.
Serena then made her way into the parking lot, where she in some way knew that her keys were in her pocket and that her car was the dark green one in the corner. Then she drove to her home which she somehow knew was an apartment on 8th avenue, where she lived on floor 5, room 14.
The next few weeks went by in a haze. Serena went to work and came home, ate dinner, and went to bed. This was nothing like her old life. Serena soon found it harder and harder to remember what had happened on that day when she had gone into the past and met Wendy and Rena. Or even her old life. So Serena wrote it all down in a little purple notebook she had found in her kayak, which she tucked under an old rug in her bedroom and never gave it a second thought. And soon she became just a normal person who lived an uneventful life in New York City.
Though something was constantly drawing her toward the lake nearby that offered kayak rentals.

It wasn’t until years later when Serena had mysteriously dissappeared. She was last seen heading toward the lake nearby, where she went often. A janitor was sent to clean up the apartment room for its next residents. As she was inspecting the old rug in the living room, debating whether or not to get rid of it, she noticed a lump on it. She was surprised to find a small purple notebook hiding under there. Leaning on her mop, she opened it to the first page and read the first line: “The thirty five year-old author Serena Sherman-Stuart sat at the side of her own private lake watching the sun set over the hills that wove into the countryside.”