The Passenger

by Jacqueline Druga

  He carried a flyer with him when he walked in. Not that he expected them to hang it up, but he had to try.

  The young female bartender was behind the bar looking up to the television as she leaned against a cooler, and one other customer was there. A man sat at the far corner of the bar, eating a burger while looking at his phone.

  The bartender noticed him, smiled and walked up to Grant as he approached the bar.

  “Hi,” she said. “What can I get you?”

  “Nothing. Are you Chelsey?”

  “I am.”

  “My name is Grant Truett.”

  The smile dropped from her face and she drew a look of compassion. “Oh, yeah, my manager told me you would be stopping by. Still no word on your son?”

  Grant shook his head and inched the flyer her way.

  She lifted it. “Yeah, I remember him. Really talented guy.”

  “Thank you. You were working that night?”

  “I was.”

  “His drummer said he got into a fight?”

  Chelsey nodded. “He did. A scuff, short fight with Lance, one of our regulars.”

  “Was he hurt maybe? Like something that would have a delayed reaction?”

  “Not that I know of. He played the next set. But can you hold on, I have something for you.” She lifted her finger then darted from behind the bar to the back room. She wasn’t gone long, and when she returned she set the black wallet down in front of Grant.

  Grant sighed out a silent aching moan when he saw it. “His wallet. He didn’t have his wallet or ID.”

  “He dropped that in here before he left … the police didn’t tell you?” she asked.

  Grant shook his head. “They didn’t tell us much about what you told them, just that they didn’t suspect any foul play.”

  “He was fine when he left. I mean … he looked tired, said he was hungry or something like that,” Chelsey said. “I mean I only served him two drinks. One was really early on, the other was at the end of the night when Doug bought him one.”

  “Who is Doug?”

  “Another regular. A friend of Lance, he got him the drink to make up for the fight. But when I left there was only my car and the waitress’ truck.”

  “Was there any way he could have been jumped maybe?”

  “I don’t know. I mean, the car was …” her attention was drawn away when another customer, a man entered the bar. “Hold on.” She turned from Grant. “Can I get you something?”

  “I have a takeout order for Jeff,” he said.

  “Two orders of wings and a burger?” Chelsey asked.

  “That’s it.”

  “Almost done. Can I get you something while you wait?”

  “Nah, I’m good.” He slid onto a stool.

  Chelsey returned her attention to Grant. “I’m sorry I couldn’t be more help.”

  “No, I appreciate it. I do. Can you …” He began to slide the flyer to her but paused. He glanced at Jeff, the man at the bar. “Sir, hi, are you from this area?”

  Jeff looked over. “I’m working in the area. I live about eight miles east of here.”

  “I’m looking for my son. Can you take a look and see if you saw him around?”

  “Sure.”

  Chelsey took the flyer over to the man.

  Jeff stared at it then shook his head. “No, man, I’m sorry. I haven’t seen him. Quite a ways from Iowa City.”

  “He was playing a gig here,” Grant replied.

  “Sorry. I wish I could help.” Jeff returned the flyer to Chelsey.

  She took it over to the other customer then returned. “He hasn’t seen him. I’ll be more than happy to have this behind the bar and show people.”

  “I would really appreciate that,” Grant said.

  “And you checked all the hospitals? Jails?” she asked.

  “We have exhausted every hospital, jail, even rehab. There were no accidents that night. His name wasn’t registered. Or even …” he lifted the wallet. “A John Doe.”

  “John Doe?” Jeff spoke up with question to his voice. “When was this? When did he disappear?’

  “We haven’t seen him in two and a half weeks,” Grant replied.

  “Not sure when it was, but there was a big accident on Broke Man’s Curve a little while ago. Week, two weeks, I’m not sure. The guy pretty much walked away with only a little bit of injuries, which …” he fluttered his lips. “Was a miracle. Lots of wrecks there. No one ever survives. He lost his memory though. The local news called him John Doe. Just made me think.”

  Chelsey snapped her finger. “Oh, that’s right. That’s the guy they’re saying claimed Jesus was in the car with him.”

  “Um, He had to be in the car with him,” Jeff replied. “Just saying.”

  Grant’s head spun. “Wait. There was an accident with a John Doe? We checked every hospital in the state. No one said anything about a John Doe.”

  “Iowa?” Jeff asked.

  “Yes.”

  “Uh, yeah, that’s why,” Jeff said. “Broke Man’s Curve is in Nebraska. About twenty-five miles from here. I think they mentioned Williams Peak. Pretty sure it was Williams Peak Hospital.”

  Grant felt instantly deflated. “Thanks, but that’s west, he would have been headed east.”

  “It’s west on eighty instead of east,” Jeff said. “It was late. You said he had a gig. It was dark. Could be an easy mistake. You came all this way already, what’s another thirty miles to check it out?”

  Grant suddenly perked back up. “You’re right. You are absolutely right. And you know what? That is the first solid lead I have had to follow. Thank you.” He backed away from the bar, stopped, pulled out his wallet and put money on the bar. “Buy this man his lunch and keep the change. Thank you so much. Both of you.” He headed to the door.

  “Good luck.” Jeff lifted his hand.

  “Let us know,” Chelsey added.

  Something stirred in Grant, it was an exhilaration he hadn’t felt in weeks. He hurried out of the bar. As soon as he stepped to his truck, he looked at the road and it took him a second to remember which way he came in. Grant smiled. If he couldn’t tell in the middle of the day, surely Jonas could have been confused on direction at night.

  The moment he got into the truck, before he drove off, he picked up his phone to call Cate and let her know about the hopeful news.

  ◆◆◆

  Williams Peak was about as picturesque as any small town depicted in the movies. Grant was amazed at how clean it was. The buildings and stores were all in great condition. Tree lined sidewalks with outdoor cafes.

  He thought about showing the flyer, but instead opted to go to the police station. If there was an accident and a John Doe, surely, they would know about it.

  After getting directions from a very nice man at the gas station, Grant found the station and pulled in a spot by the road across the street.

  He paused before crossing, but traffic stopped to let him go. He had never seen anything like it.

  A female officer was seated at a desk by the door when he walked in.

  Grant approached her. “Hi, Ma’am, would there be someone in charge I could speak to?”

  She glanced up to him, but as her mouth opened to reply, a taller man stepped closer.

  “That would be me,” he said walking to Grant. “I’m Chief McKibben, how can I help you?’

  Grant was nervous, his stomach twitched, and hand shook a little. “I’m Grant Truett.”

  “How can I help you, Mr. Truett?”

  “I may be way off. Like three hundred miles off. But I heard there was an accident and … and my son is missing. I’m looking for my son.” Grant held up the flyer. “Have you seen him?”

  Chief McKibben looked down to the flyer and lifted it. “Come into my office.”

  NINETEEN

  Losing a child is every parent’s worst nightmare, Russ knew this. As a father himself, he hated that he had left Grant hanging, sitting alone in his office with no a
nswers. But there was more to it than just saying, ‘Yes, we know where your son is.’

  Russ wasn’t a medical expert, not by a long shot. Even he was aware there had to be cautionary steps taken with amnesia victims.

  He called in reinforcements for the talk with Grant Truett.

  “Marge can you and Old Joe come to the station,” Russ called them at the store. “It’s important. Nothing bad. Please, I’ll explain when you get here.”

  “On their way?” Doc Jenner asked.

  “Yes. Should only be a minute.”

  Jenner leaned back and glanced into Russ’ office; he lowered his voice. “Did you say anything to him?”

  Russ shook his head. “I thought it would be best if we all explained, and you tell us how to handle this.”

  It wouldn’t take long for Marge and Joe to show up. Russ knew that. They were only a block away.

  They, like Jenner, arrived within five minutes. Mr. Truett had been kept waiting a little over ten minutes, which to him must have seemed like a lifetime.

  Marge and Joe had no clue what was going on when they showed up, and it was written all over their faces.

  Just outside his office. Russ stopped them. “There’s someone here you need to meet. He’s in my office.”

  Marge and Joe walked in ahead of Jenner and Russ.

  Grant turned around in his seat, standing when the group entered.

  “You’re him,” Joe said. “You’re his father.”

  Russ looked quickly at Joe. “How did you know that?”

  “I just did. This is fantastic.” Joe extended his hand to Grant.

  Marge just stepped forward and embraced him. “Oh, you poor man, I know what you have been going through.”

  Grant trembled. “Please don’t tell me my son has passed.”

  Gasping, Marge stepped back. “No, no. I’m sorry you took it that way.”

  “Are you guys like a town council?” Grant asked. “What … what has my son done? He’s done something bad, hasn’t he?”

  “Have a seat.” Russ indicated to the chair. “This is not a town council. More of a council of your son.”

  “I don’t understand. Is he okay?”

  Russ nodded. “He is. This is Doctor Jenner. He treated your son. And these two are Marge and Joe Baker, they treated your son with absolute kindness and were the ones who saved his life that night on the road.”

  “He was the one in the accident?”

  Russ nodded.

  Grant glanced at Marge and Joe. “I can’t begin to thank you enough, all of you.”

  Doctor Jenner leaned against the Chief’s desk. “While he only suffered minor bodily injuries, he did have a head injury and some swelling. Physically, he’s better. But he has memory loss.”

  “Amnesia?” Grant asked.

  “Yes. It’s coming back. Are you familiar with the term procedural memory?” Jenner questioned.

  “I am. That’s like riding a bike.”

  “Exactly. Things like that are coming fast for him. For example, the guitar,” Jenner said. “According to the Chief, he just picked it up and played it like a pro, not knowing why.”

  “That doesn’t surprise me,” Grant said. “The guitar has been an extension of his body since he was twelve. It also wouldn’t surprise me if you told me he was gardening.”

  Everyone looked at each other.

  “He is,” Russ said. “Nice work, too.”

  “Well, he gets that knack from his mom,” Grant replied. “He worked landscaping in the summer. Has he started baking yet?”

  “Baking?” Marge asked with shock. “Chip bakes?”

  “Chip?” Grant asked. “You call him Chip?”

  Marge nodded. “We all do. That’s me, I called him Chip because I figured he has to be a chip off the block of someone. So, he bakes.”

  “He makes amazing cookies.”

  “What is his name?” Old Joe asked.

  “Jonas. His name is Jonas,” Grant replied. “I … I don’t understand. Why not run his prints?”

  “I wanted to,” said the Chief. “Would we have matched them?”

  “Oh, yeah, Jonas has not been on a good path for the past few years. DUI, public drunkenness, a couple disorderly conducts,” Grant said. “Why didn’t you run them if you wanted to?”

  Marge answered, “Chip wanted to wait until he got his memory back before he found out who he was. He wanted to remember instead of being told.”

  Doc Jenner spoke up, “It’s not that we didn’t try to find out who he was. The fingerprints were going to be the last resort at the one month mark. The VIN on the car was a bust.”

  Grant nodded. “He borrowed it from a guy named Teeter, and I don’t even want to know where he got it from. Teeter’s a dealer and in jail right now. You wouldn’t have had any idea who he was.” Grant sank back in the chair. “He dropped his wallet at the bar where he played his show. And I will need to go back there to thank the man who suggested I come here.”

  “Have you been there?” Russ asked.

  “I was just there,” Grant answered. “The state police weren’t giving me any answers. As a father I just needed to ask my questions. He wasn’t drunk, at least that’s what the bartender said. She told me he had two drinks. One earlier in the night and someone named Doug bought him one at the end.”

  “Is this Doug a friend?” Russ asked.

  Grant shook his head. “No. According to the bartender he was a friend of the guy Jonas fought with that night. Was buying him a drink, I guess to make amends.”

  Hurriedly, Russ pulled out his tablet. “You said the guy’s name was Doug?” He wrote it down. “Would this bartender know how to find him?”

  Grant stammered. “I guess. I think she said he was a regular.”

  “Where is this bar?” questioned Russ.

  “Outside of Persia, Iowa.”

  Russ looked at Doctor Jenner. “Have your son call up the Iowa state police. I wonder if we can get this guy to admit it.”

  “I don’t understand,” Grant said. “What’s going on?”

  Doctor Jenner turned to Grant. “That last drink your son had … was spiked. Someone put a date rape or club drug into it.”

  “Someone deliberately did this to my child?” Grant asked with emotions. “They had to know he was driving. They had to know.” He brought his hand to his face.

  Marge rested her hand on Grant’s shoulder. “The Good Lord was watching out for him.”

  “In fact,” Joe added. “He was riding in the car with him.”

  Slowly, Grant lowered his hand. “Is my son saying Jesus was in the car with him?”

  “Spoke and saw him.” Joe replied.

  “Okay. Okay.” Russ stopped them. “We can discuss that later. And no, Marge, I’m not scoffing at your husband. I have a question to ask.” He walked over to his desk, opened the drawer and pulled out a piece of paper.

  Marge, Old Joe and Jenner all groaned.

  “For goodness sakes,” Jenner said. “Let that go.”

  “I can’t. I have to know.” He handed the paper to Grant. “Do you recognize this?”

  “Yep, it's my son’s guitar. He had it custom made,” Grant answered.

  “Ha!” Russ gloated. “I knew it. Call it a hunch. I knew this was his and it’s stolen property.”

  Grant shifted his eyes around to everyone. “Could this have something to do with the spiked drink?”

  “We can find out.” Russ put the picture down. “For now, we need to take you to Chip.”

  Doc Jenner interjected. “We need to not overwhelm him. Maybe Grant, Marge and Joe go over. We don’t know if he’ll remember right away when he sees his father. He may, he may not. He also may have some physical repercussions if it hits him too fast. Anything is possible.”

  “And if he doesn’t remember his father?” Joe asked.

  “Doesn’t mean he won’t in an hour or a few days,” Doc Jenner answered. “After steady exposure. I think for the first introduction, i
f Chip doesn’t remember his father, we don’t say anything. It might be too much; he may not trust it. Are you prepared for that reaction?” he asked Grant. “It might be painful he doesn’t know you.”

  Grant nodded. “I can handle it. I can handle anything because he is alive.”

  “Good.” Marge extended her hand. “Let’s go see your son. Did you want to call your wife first?”

  “No.” Grant shook his head. “Not until I see him with my own eyes. Then when I do, I’ll let her know the good news.”

  “As a mother myself I can tell you,” Marge said. “It will be the best news of her life.”

  ◆◆◆

  Haley was hesitant at first. She took a bite under pressure, chewed apprehensively for a second, then she stopped. Her eyes widened. “Oh, my goodness, Chip.” She brought her fingers to her mouth to catch the crumbs and she chuckled. “These are amazing.”

  “You think?”

  “Yes!” She took another bite, closed her eyes and leaned against the wall in the back hall as she enjoyed her treat. “They melt in your mouth.”

  “They’re just butter cookies, that’s all your dad had the ingredients for. He doesn’t really make anything from scratch."

  “No.” Haley smiled. “No, he doesn’t. You aren’t gonna happen to discover you sew, are you?

  Jonas laughed. “I don’t think so. But who knows. Wait, you have …” he reached her chin, and using his thumb he brushed away crumbs.

  Haley paused, looking at him as he did so. “Thank you.”

  There was a moment there, just a brief moment of quiet.

  Haley cleared her throat. “So, did you find a recipe for these?” She finished the cookie.

  “No, I didn’t. It just came to me.”

  “Wow. That is crazy how the mind works. I think someone totally domesticated you and you …” she stopped.

  “And I what?” Jonas asked.

  “Chip,” her voice dropped. “What if you’re married?. I didn’t even think about that”

  “I don’t think I am. I don’t feel like I am.” He lifted his left hand. “Wouldn’t I wear a ring?”