The Passenger

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The Passenger Page 6

by Jacqueline Druga


  “What room?” she asked as she walked in the direction.

  “Third room. Two-ten.”

  “Rold-Rold,” she called out as she approached the room. “Gather your things, we will be moving you.” She stepped in the room and stopped. She looked at Jonas, then spun and looked at the doctor. “Is this a joke?”

  Doctor Jenner looked confused. “I don’t understand.”

  “That …” She pointed to Jonas. “Is not my grandson.” Beatrice stormed back out of the room. “You will be hearing from my lawyers.”

  The Chief and Doctor Jenner stood dumbfounded as she stormed out. Doctor Jenner followed her.

  Russ gave an apologetic look to Jonas. “Process of elimination. We know who you aren’t. We’ll figure this out.” Then he, too, left the room.

  Jonas plopped back on the bed. “Process of elimination.” He shook his head.

  Marge gave a closed mouth smile. “We will figure that out. In the meantime … she walked back over to the paper shopping bag and reached in. “I brought you some pajamas.” She handed them to him. “My son’s. They might be a tad big, just pull the drawstring.”

  He didn’t look up.

  “Take them,” she said.

  Without looking up, he reached for them and grumbled a ‘thanks’.

  “You didn’t think you were Harold,” Marge said. “Why the disappointment?”

  “I don’t know.” Jonas shrugged. “I need to be somebody. Who am I?”

  “Like I said, we’ll figure it out. Until then … I’m going to call you Chip.”

  “Chip?” Jonas asked.

  “Chip.”

  “Why Chip?”

  “Because I’m willing to bet you are a chip off somebody’s block.”

  Jonas clenched the pajamas. “I guess I wanted to get out of here.”

  Marge looked at him. “You may not be well enough to be discharged, but … I don’t think there’d be any harm in going outside. Why don’t you get dressed, I’ll fetch a wheelchair and we’ll go get some fresh air.” She made her way to the door.

  “I don’t need you to do that for me,” Jonas said. “I’m okay, you don’t need to mother me.”

  “I don’t look at it as mothering, I look at it as substituting.”

  “Huh?” he gazed at her confused.

  “You’re not Harold, but you are somebody. And I am sure you have a mother. You can look at it as me doing this for her.” Marge passed a smile and walked out of the room.

  Jonas was overwhelmed with a strange feeling as he sat on the bed. Maybe it was the woman Maw-Maw or even the pajamas, he didn’t know. But it was the first time since he arrived at that hospital that he didn’t feel angry.

  TWELVE

  Jessie was a blessing. She was also a badly needed diversion for Cate. Her daughter’s smile could light up a room, and she was funny. She made Cate laugh about little things. The outing to the gardening store fit the bill. Even though it was crowded, Cate really didn’t enjoy the store when it was packed. She supposed everyone that gardened was preparing for their annuals.

  “What about these, Mom?” Jessie pointed to a pink and white flower. “They’re different.”

  “Yes, they are but … do I want different?”

  “Why browse a gardening store if you’re just going to walk out with what you always walk out with,” Jessie said. “We can skip the browsing, get your stuff and head to lunch.”

  “You’re right. Maybe I do need a change.” Cate reached for the tag on the flowers to read about them.

  Jessie placed her hand over Cate’s. “How are you?”

  “Huh?” Cate smiled.

  “Stop. How are you doing?”

  Cate shook her head. “That’s not what today is about.”

  “Really? Because I’m a mess, I can only imagine how you are.”

  Heavily, Cate released the breath she held. “I’m sorry, sweetie. I’m sorry you’re a mess.”

  “And you’re not?”

  “The first couple days were really rough. Then when the police were asking all those questions and wanted pictures, it was surreal. But to be honest with you, he’s not arrested, not in the hospital anywhere. He’s either out there not wanting to be found or in a ditch. Either case, as hard as it is, I can’t change those circumstances.”

  “I keep trying his phone.”

  “The last ping they had from it was that bar he played,” Cate said. “At least they aren’t dragging the rivers yet.”

  “Mom, that’s not funny.”

  “I’m not joking.”

  “Do we know whose car he was driving?” Jessie asked.

  “He got it from Teeter.”

  “Teeter?” Jessie recoiled. “He’s a dealer, Mom.”

  “I know. Bret said they’re still friends.”

  “If he got a car from Teeter, we may not know whose car it is. People get desperate to get stuff. Have you guys talked to him?”

  “We tried, he’s in jail. Arrested a few days ago, but he won’t talk to us.”

  Jessie shook her head in disgust. “He’s such a piece of work. How’s Dad?” Jessie asked, moving along with her mother to the next batch of flowers.

  “Your father is not doing well. I know him. He’s not even hiding it anymore. All the arguments and fights. The tough love. If something has happened to Jonas, your father right now is in a place where he will never forgive himself.”

  “That’s sad.”

  “I know. He’s on the computer constantly. He does Google Image search and puts Jonas’ picture in to see if one pops up. He has joined this national database where police post pictures of individuals. Sadly, they said it could be weeks to update.”

  “Is it obsessive?” Jessie asked. “Should I be worried?”

  “No, don’t be worried and oh, yeah, it’s obsessive. After these six weeks left in the semester, he’s taking some time off.”

  “Dad is taking time off?”

  Cate nodded. “He said if they find Jonas, he is going to dedicate that time to working with him. If we don’t, then he is going out to look.”

  “Will you go with him?”

  “I can’t. I have my job at the home and that keeps my sanity. Plus,” Cate said. “This may be something your dad needs to do on his own. His way of possibly working on his issues with his son. Looking for him, you know.”

  “We’re going to find him, Mom,” Jessie said. “One way or another.”

  “I know. I believe it. I do.”

  “Maybe we can convince Daddy.”

  Cate smiled gently and shook her head. “Him and Jonas are more alike than either of them want to admit. Both stubborn, both hot heads, and both of them don’t listen. They have to see their own way, no one can show them.”

  “Mom, this may be far off,” Jessie said. “Have you guys called rehabs?”

  Cate paused in looking at the flowers. “Why do you say that?’

  “It’s an option. Maybe Jonas had a bad night last week, said enough is enough and checked himself in somewhere. I know it’s hard to believe. Jonas is so narcissistic he wouldn’t do that without announcing it to the world. But what if?”

  “Then it would be the longest stint in rehab yet. He’s never lasted more than a few days anywhere. I always said if he could go three weeks or a month, it could work. But in order for that to occur, your brother needs to find his purpose. Until that happens,” Cate said. “He’ll never find his way.”

  THIRTEEN

  Pastor Rick had a lot of things going for him, but a green thumb was not one of them. His daughter, Haley suffered from the same ‘lack of green thumb’ affliction. It was his wife, Haley’s mother, who had the talent.

  Sadly, she had left them a few years earlier. Not by death, but by choice. She suddenly felt trapped, the church life wasn’t for her and took she off for California. Pastor Rick and Haley had since resolved all conflict or hurt over it, even talked to her. But not about planting flowers.

  “That’s um …” Past
or Rick stood, hand on hips staring down. “Pretty sad.”

  “We tried,” Haley replied.

  “No, we didn’t. Or not hard enough.” He laughed, wrapping his arm around Haley. “I just don’t have a love for this.”

  “Me either.”

  “Pastor Rick. Haley,” Chief Russ’ voice carried to them.

  “Hi, Chief,” Haley said.

  “Chief.” Pastor Rick took off his gardening glove and shook Russ’ hand. “What brings you by?”

  “Certainly not to look at the garden.”

  Pastor Rick grumbled then chuckled. “Some of us are put on the earth to help people, some for flowers. Flowers are not us. I’ll bring it up at services tomorrow. Get a volunteer.”

  “Good. You always do. The reason for me being here. The accident victim formally known as Harold, now known as Chip is being released from the hospital as we speak.”

  “We know,” Haley said. “Marge stopped by to get some clothes from the stash for the bazaar. She wanted to launder them. Is she getting him?”

  “Yes, she is there now,” Russ answered.

  “Any luck with his identity?” Pastor Rick asked.

  “None. I’m waiting to hear back from Harold, no return call yet. I checked all missing person data bases. Nothing. Call it a hunch. A father’s hunch, but I think that young man may be bad news, and no one really wants to find him. At least, no one is looking for him right now. Not according to the national database.”

  “Doesn’t that lag behind?” asked Pastor Rick.

  “The national one, yeah. I reached out to Kansas State PD and Missouri. Since the car was from Kansas he has to be from that area.”

  “You would think,” said Pastor Rick.

  Haley shook her head. “This is so sad. What’s gonna happen with him?”

  “I talked to Amanda, the manager at the Hotel Six,” Russ replied. “She said she’ll give him a room. That won’t help him eat or health wise. Truth is, he still doesn’t know who he is. We don’t know who he is. He is in our town. I can’t help but feel a sense of responsibility. This town is like a big family. I'm not comfortable with the idea he is out there, lost in himself, no means to eat. You know. So, I was hoping Pastor you might, through the church, know of an organization. A shelter maybe, a place we could send him to find his way.”

  Pastor Rick nodded. “I do. I know exactly where he can go.” He looked at Russ then Haley. “He survived that crash and ended up in our town. There’s a reason for it. I think he should come here.”

  “Here?” Haley asked. “Dad. No.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s not that nice.”

  “Maybe that’ll change,” Pastor Rick said. “I haven’t heard Marge say a bad thing about him.”

  “Maw-Maw wouldn’t say a mean thing about anyone,” Haley replied.

  “You sure Pastor?” Russ asked.

  “Absolutely.” Pastor Rick nodded again. “We have that posting for a part time groundskeeper. I have that room. He can stay with me, work the church for his room and board. I am very sure.”

  Arms folded tightly, Haley exhaled and looked at the both of them. “I know what you guys are doing. And don’t …” She waved out her hand. “Don’t say ‘the right thing or the Christian thing’, this goes beyond that. It’s personal. You know it, I know it. Just remember, trying to save this lost soul is not going to make up for the lost soul you couldn’t save.”

  “You’re right. But we can try, can’t we?” Pastor Rick leaned forward and kissed his daughter on the forehead. “We can try.”

  ◆◆◆

  It had been nearly twenty-four hours since Marge had seen him and what a difference that time had made in the young man she called Chip. He sat on a bench in the small hospital park. A bag of belongings on his lap. Probably the ones she dropped off for him. He wore blue jeans and a crisp white tee shirt. His face was still very bruised, but the swelling had gone down, and his hair was shorter. Very short, parted on the side with a little flip added to the front like the boy bands used to do. He looked … clean cut.

  Carrying a takeout container, Marge walked to him. “Look at you. Betty, the hospital beautician, got her hands on someone today.”

  “Doc Jenner said it was a fresh look for a fresh start.”

  “And you agreed?” Marge asked.

  He nodded, running his hand over the top of his hair.

  “I like it.”

  “It’s not me.”

  “We don’t know that,” Marge said. “Hey, it matches the name Chip.” She handed him the container. “For you.”

  “Food?” He lifted the lid. “Wow, Nachos, thank you. You always bring me food. Ann said I gained six pounds this week.”

  “Yep, fourteen more will make me happy. Eat.”

  He dipped into his snack.

  “Chief Russ tells me you declined a fingerprint search. Can I ask why?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, I um … well, if I match that means I have a record.”

  “Okay.”

  “Chances are, I probably do. I mean, someone drugged me, at least it's what Doc Jenner said. So, I probably did something to make someone mad.”

  “People do things and don’t need a reason. You don’t know,” she said.

  “One of those feelings.” He glanced up at her, then looked down to his food. “I just … it may sound strange to you, but I want to try to have my memory come back and know who I am rather than someone tell me, and I have to make myself fit the narrative. Like I tried to do when they said I was Harold.”

  Marge nodded. “I see. I can tell you one thing about yourself. You’re intelligent. No one says ‘fits the narrative’ unless they’re a writer or big reader. But declining the fingerprints is your choice and I think you have the right attitude.”

  “I was thinking of giving myself a time frame.”

  “You can do that,” she said. “Or see what happens. Up to you. How are you feeling?”

  “Good.”

  “Any memories?”

  “I get feelings. Like I told you about. Feelings about things I like or want.”

  “Like what?” Marge asked.

  “I think I was a smoker. I keep feeling like I want a cigarette. And pot roast. It’s like I feel like pot roast is something I like.”

  “Well, lucky you, Pot Roast is my Sunday supper.”

  “There you go feeding me again.”

  Marge laughed. “That’s just me. We can go on these feelings. They have to be helpful. Still, no memories?

  “Of my life? No.” He shook his head. “But of that night I do, I still see his face.”

  “David’s?”

  “Yes. His face telling me, ‘I got you’. Do you think he’s dead?”

  “I don’t know. There are some folks who don’t think a man was in the car with you.”

  “Like I’m nuts.”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Not nuts. Don’t use that word. They believe you weren’t alone.”

  “They don’t believe a man was in the car, but they don’t think I was alone …” Then it hit him. “You mean, like they think it was God that was riding with me?”

  “Some folks feel that way. Old Joe does.”

  “Hmm. Interesting.”

  “Wow, no scoffing. I’m shocked.”

  “Another feeling … I feel like usually I would scoff,” he said. “But I really think whoever was in the car with me is a key to a lot. I can’t put my finger on it. I keep thinking that once I figure him out, I can figure me out. A key.”

  “A key to your survival that night? Your new journey.”

  He chuckled. “Is that why you’re here Maw-Maw, to take me to wherever I am going?”

  “I am.” Marge nodded. “I am your driver. You can’t just be discharged from the hospital, Chip, with only a good riddance. You don’t know who you are and you’re still healing. You landed right smack in Williams Peak. You couldn’t ask for a better place. We take care of our own and right now, you are one of
our own. Until you figure out who you are. Until you find your way, we have a place for you.”

  “Where?”

  “You’ll find out shortly.” Marge tapped his food container. “Eat your nachos.”

  ◆◆◆

  Jonas just stared at the room, taking in the simplicity of it. Everything in the town was simplistic. The room had a twin bed which was in the corner of the room. A window on each wall was by it. There was a television on a desk and a dresser.

  It was a room in Pastor Rick’s home. The two story, white frame building directly across the street from the church.

  Maw-Maw, Pastor Rick and Haley were crowded by the door. He supposed they were waiting for him to say something.

  “You don’t …” Pastor Rick stepped to him. “Have to stay here or take the job. We just thought it would be good for you. Once you’re on your feet, know who you are, it’s up to you then. Who knows? You may even stay in Williams Peak.”

  Jonas turned around. “I doubt I am the type of person that lives in a town like this. But, as Maw-Maw always says, I don’t know, because I don’t remember.”

  “You’ll take it?” Pastor Rick asked. “As I said, we can call the Motel Six. They offered you a room there, the chief is working on finding out who you are …”

  “No.” Jonas shook his head. “This is great. What will I be doing? I’m not sure I have any skills. If I do, I don’t remember them.”

  “We’ll all help you,” Pastor Rick said. “Help me take care of the church, put the books out for service. Help set up for music rehearsals, stuff like that.”

  Maw-Maw added, “We have the bazaar in six days. On Friday, and we will need some help with that.”

  “It’ll add a few bucks in your pocket, not much,” Pastor Rick said. “A roof over your head and food. I’m a great cook.”

  Haley cleared her throat.

  Jonas quickly looked at her.

  “What?” Pastor Rick asked. “I’m a great cook. And you’ll find out shortly.” He waved his finger at Jonas. “Lunch is in a few minutes, Chip. Marge, lend me a hand?”

  “Absolutely.” She and the pastor walked out.

  “So … was this your room?” Jonas asked Haley.

 

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