The Passenger

by Jacqueline Druga

  Jonas nodded. “I feel that.”

  “When you arrived in our little town and you didn’t know who you were, you had an adjustment period, correct? Just like you didn’t jump right into being a, hardworking, fun loving, cookie baking nice guy Chip, you don’t need to jump right back into being, partying, living on the edge, never happy, jerk of a guy Jonas.”

  “Wow.” Jonas laughed.

  “You need an adjustment period. Take it. That’s my advice. You know what you want more than you care to admit. I promise. You’ll figure it out. Now ...” He clapped his hands once. “Let’s hear your opus?”

  Jonas smiled and just to have fun, he ripped into a hard core, hard rock riff. Then after saying ‘just kidding’, he returned to the song he was working on when Pastor Rick came in.

  His memory returned and with it came a lot of good advice from everyone who had gotten to know him. But what of the two people in town who knew him his whole life. Talking to them would have to start with an apology long overdue.

  TWENTY-SIX

  It wasn’t the first time she had heard an apology from Jonas, but it was the first time Cate actually felt it was believable.

  The night before he called her at the hotel and said, “I’m sorry, Mom. Can we talk? Maybe over a milkshake?.”

  She and Grant met him at the milkshake shop and Jonas apologized again, not only for the outburst hours earlier at the hospital but for many things.

  “I’m sorry for all the sleepless nights. I’m sorry I was mean and hurtful. I’m sorry for destroying my body, for not being the son you raised me to be. I can make a list, I can say I’m sorry, but I don’t know what I can do to make it right.”

  Cate and Grant held him.

  “You don’t need to make it up to us, Jonas,” Grant told him. “We want what’s best for you. We want you happy. That life you led, it didn’t make you happy. You were searching. And I pray, yes, I pray you don’t ever go back.”

  “But that is your choice,” Cate added. “We can’t tell you what to do.”

  He had come to them for answers and advice, and Cate didn’t want to tell him what she thought he should do, because it ultimately had to be what he wanted to do, what was in his heart.

  One thing was clear, Jonas hadn’t left his job at the market bakery. He had done his morning shift, asking Cate and Grant to not leave town yet. If one of them could stay at least, until he made up his mind on what he needed to do.

  Grant was still on sabbatical and Cate had to get back to work. One more day and she had to leave. However, she planned on enjoying her time in the quaint town.

  “You should stay until Wednesday,” Grant told Cate as they sat on the patio of Baker’s Market Café. “It’s meatball sub day and they are awesome.”

  “I wish I could. But you know, I think Jonas is going to be ready to leave here in a few days. He knows who he is. Right now, he’s getting his phone back.”

  “We should have cancelled his number,” Grant told her.

  “Cancelling his number isn’t going to cancel his old life.”

  “Speaking of Jonas.” Grant lifted his chin to nod.

  The phone store bag seat on the table. “Hey.” Jonas pulled up a chair and sat down. “You got the chicken wraps. They’re pretty good, huh?”

  “You hungry?” Grant pushed his sandwich to him. “There is still half.”

  “No, Maw-Maw made me eat one about an hour ago.”

  Cate smiled gently. “She is very good to you.”

  “Yes, she is. Has been since day one,” Jonas stated. “Even when I wasn’t easy to be nice to. And I told her I didn’t want her help. She didn’t listen because she wasn’t doing it for me. She was doing it for you, Mom.”

  “Me?” Cate asked.

  Jonas nodded. “Yeah. She never looked at me as trouble or John Doe, she looked at me as somebody’s child. Your child. Little did I know at the time,” Jonas paused and looked down. “About Mathew.”

  Eyes feeling, Cate choked up. “I am so grateful for her and Joe. More than I can ever say.”

  “She knows.”

  Grant’s hand rested on the bag. “I see you got a new phone.”

  “Number is activated. I … I haven’t turned it on yet,” Jonas said. “I know I’m going to get bombarded with old texts and voicemails. I don’t really know if I’m ready to see them yet or visit that life yet.”

  “Yet?” Grant asked. “So, you think you’ll eventually go back?”

  Jonas nodded. “I do. I have to, right? I mean, that’s my life. My apartment. People I know. I can promise you both, I am going to do everything in my power not to get drawn back into the way I was. I learned a lot. But this here in William’s Peak is Chip Doe’s life.”

  “Aren’t you one and the same?” Grant asked.

  “Dad, I don’t know anything. I just know it feels like I am fooling these people if I stay because I am not who they thought I was. I just still feel this pulling, like I’m searching for an answer and don’t know the question.”

  Cate reached over and grabbed his hand. “You’ll find it. I believe you’ll find it.” She glanced up when she saw Marge approach.

  “I’m not interrupting, am I?” Marge asked.

  “No, not at all,” Grant answered.

  “Chip, you have an hour free?” Marge asked. “I need to run to Fremont to that wine and spirits, they’re the only place that carries the cordial juice and we need it for the chocolate covered cherries. You know how funny I feel about going there alone. I mean if you’re busy …”

  “No, I’m not busy,” Jonas replied and stood. “I’ll go.”

  Marge looked at Cate then Grant. “Do you mind?”

  Cate shook her head. “Not at all. We’ll be in town.”

  Jonas leaned down, kissed his mother on the cheek, then his father. He swiped his phone bag from the table. “I’m ready.”

  Marge held out her hand. “After you, Chip. I got Joe’s truck.”

  Cate kept the smile on her face, watching them walk away.

  “What is it?” Grant asked. “What’s on your mind?”

  “She still calls him Chip. And he doesn’t correct her.”

  “Maybe she’s the only one who can convince him Chip and Jonas are one and the same.”

  “Maybe.” Cate glanced back again, watching them get into the truck, then she returned to the conversation with Grant and her sandwich.

  ◆◆◆

  It was a busy morning for Russ. Five traffic citations before noon and one of them was to Old Joe for careless driving. He kept stopping, going, jerking the car. He claimed he stepped on gum and his foot kept sticking the pedal.

  Russ didn’t see any gum, but he couldn’t think of another reason Joe would be driving like that. He issued the citation but would probably just toss it out.

  The station was quiet. Everyone was on patrol or out to lunch, which left Russ in charge of answering phones when they rang.

  And they did.

  “Williams Peak Police Department, Chief McKibben speaking. How can I help you?”

  “Chief,” the voice on the other line spoke. “This is Chief John Elliott over in Fremont. Glad I got you.”

  “John?” Russ sat down. “Wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

  “I wasn’t expecting to call you. Thought our business was done.”

  “Me, too. What’s going on?” Russ asked.

  “Any chance I can get you to stop by today? Make the trip?”

  “Sure. I’ll head on up. Again, what’s going on?”

  “Well, Kevin McConnel our Guitar World pawn boy?”

  “What about him?”

  “Seems his mother found a gear bag in his room.”

  “I’m not sure what that is,” Russ said.

  “Usually, guitar players have them. They carry their cords, maybe a peddle, strings, stuff like that.”

  Russ snapped forward in his chair. “It belonged to our John Doe, didn’t it?”

  “Yep.”<
br />
  “Why didn’t he sell it with the other stuff?”

  “Ready for this?” John asked. “He didn’t have the bag with the guitar. His mother saw him walking in the house with it two days ago."

  “That gear bag would have been in the car with the guitar.”

  “He claims he went back to the site to see if he could find anything else and he found it then.”

  “A month later?” Russ said with disbelief.

  John laughed. “We know that’s not true, so because you got me started on this, I started looking, asking places he could have tried to sell it. It’s a long story, but I just sent you a fax. It explains a lot. Take a look at the pictures and we can talk when you get here.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you. See you soon.” Russ ended the call, and he was curious. He heard the whirling of the fax machine and walked across the station to it.

  The second his eyes cast down to the emerging fax and he saw it, his mouth dropped open. “Well, I’ll be.”

  He didn’t need to look at the fax for long, he knew he had to get to Fremont and talk to the chief there.

  Hurriedly, Russ grabbed an empty large envelope, placed the fax inside. He walked back over, grabbed the keys from his desk, and as he left the station, flipped the sign on the door to ‘be right back’.

  While getting in his car he saw the Truett parents across the street at the café. He paused in leaving and crossed the street.

  “Afternoon folks,” he greeted them. “Do you know where your son is right now?”

  Grant asked. “Yes. Is everything alright?”

  “Oh, yeah, actually great. Where is he?” Russ asked.

  “He went with Marge to some liquor store in Fremont to get cordial juice or something,” Grant replied.

  “Even better. I’ll call Marge to tell them not to leave. Thank you. Enjoy your lunch.” Russ hurried away. He supposed he could have told them what was happening, but he felt Jonas had to be the one to know.

  Jonas was right where Russ needed him to be.

  Finally, Russ believed Jonas would get his answers and like Russ would finally close the chapter on the accident.

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Jonas could have stayed at Guitar World all day, hours at least, but he knew Marge was anxious to get to the store and get that cordial juice. He was glad she stopped for him. It made his day.

  The store was located on the main street of downtown, and they parked directly in front of it. A pull in spot, and Jonas could see the entrance.

  Marge said she’d be right back, she always wanted to see what other juices they had so she could be a few minutes.

  He was fine with that.

  While sitting in the car, he put on the new protective case on the new phone, it was bulky and thick, and he didn’t know if he liked it. Then finally drew up enough courage to turn it on.

  As he expected the notifications popped up.

  Four hundred text messages, sixty-three missed calls, and forty-two voicemails.

  Marge wouldn’t be in the store long enough for him to make a dent in those messages.

  Perhaps that was his excuse to avoid checking them out, and Jonas slid the phone into his front tee-shirt pocket.

  He was thinking about going into the store, but with his past, he wasn’t quite certain he was ready to go into a liquor store to join Marge, even if she was getting stuff without alcohol.

  Deciding he would check out his strings, he reached for the bag and that was when he saw three people run out of the store. It was worrisome running, like they were scared.

  Curiously concerned, Jonas jumped from the truck and hurried into the store.

  It was quiet, too quiet.

  Marge was right there. As soon as he stepped in he saw her near the door holding two bottles of cordial liquid. She wasn’t moving nor looking at the door. It was as if she was going to walk out and was busted, that was the look on her face.

  Jonas started to laugh, ready to say, “Maw-Maw, what are you doing?” When he quickly noticed she was doing the same thing as the two cashiers and three other customers in line.

  The manager’s booth was against the far left wall and they all faced it.

  Was there something on the news? He stepped toward Marge, reaching out.

  “I said hurry up!” a man’s voice yelled.

  A quick look back to his left, Jonas saw it was a man, in a gray hoodie by the manager’s booth.

  His eyes went back to Jonas and that was when she saw him. Her face tensed up in a panic and mouthed the words, “Go. Get out.”

  She must have tried to run out like the others. So close to her escape, Jonas reached for her hand. He wasn’t leaving her.

  “And I told you!” the man’s voice cracked as he shouted frantically and out of control. “No one move.”

  The man spun around with the gun in his hand. His arm extended; the gun aimed outward to point at Marge.

  Jonas, without hesitation, dove in front of her as two consecutive shots were fired.

  Both hit Jonas.

  The impact sent the left part of his body back with the force of the hits and he fell into Marge before dropping to the floor on his injured side.

  Everyone in the store screamed.

  “Shut up!”

  “Chip. Chip,” Marge sobbed out.

  Jonas felt one hand on his right arm, her other on his head.

  “Get away from him!” the man yelled.

  “No!” Marge blasted. “Chip, please.”

  He was stunned. Jonas could feel the sharp, burning pain, most of which came from his shoulder, he blinked several times to snap out of the shock.

  Warm blood poured down his arm, he knew he had been hit in the shoulder, but there was an ache in his chest, like someone had punched him.

  He had been there on the floor only a few seconds, but it felt like longer. Time moved in slow motion.

  He brought this hand to his chest to check to see if he was bleeding and his hand hit his new cell phone. The phone he had placed in that thick bulky case, tumbled from his pocket, exposing the embedded bullet.

  “I’m okay,” he told Marge in a whisper. “I’m okay.”

  “Yeah, he’s okay,” the man snapped. “Get up. You’re okay.”

  Jonas rolled onto his back to sit up some. When he saw his assailant. His mouth dropped open, and he instantly was breathless as he muttered in shock. “You.”

  Flash.

  No longer was Jonas on the floor of that store, he was back in the car, after the accident.

  “You’re okay, you’re okay. I have to undo your seatbelt,” the passenger said.

  Jonas released from the seat and dropped to the roof of the overturned car.

  “I got you.” He appeared at the window, reached down for Jonas’ extended arms and pulled him out.

  Once Jonas was out, he rolled on to his back to see him standing above him. He then looked over, saw the car and the small dancing flames on the car.

  “We need to get you closer to help. Don’t worry, I got you.”

  Then he reached down and lifted Jonas.

  “You,” Jonas repeated again from the floor then staggered to stand, never taking his eyes off the man with the gun.

  The long hair was the same, beard a little longer, but there was no denying it.

  The man robbing the store, the man with the gun … he was the passenger.

  ◆◆◆

  They hadn’t even made it to Fremont when Russ called Marge. They were in Guitar World. He didn’t tell her anything, just that he was headed to Fremont on business and not to leave until they met up.

  Russ didn’t expect the circumstances he faced when he arrived in the usually quiet town.

  He had debated on taking his own car or the squad car. Opting for the squad car was a good thing, it gave him access when other cars were turned around at the blocked off street.

  The younger officer leaned down to Russ’ window. “What brings you to down here, sir?”

&n
bsp; “Official police business, I see the chief is engaged already.”

  “Yes, sir. We have a hostage situation.”

  Russ nodded. Then he saw Old Joe’s pickup truck. “Not the liquor store?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “I’m pulling over.” Russ didn’t wait for permission, he moved the squad car to the side, put it in park, and made his way to Chief John Elliott. “What’s the situation?”

  “Well, this was not how I expected to talk to you about this,” John said. “We have hostages. Shots were fired. We aren’t sure if anyone is hurt.”

  “I think two of my townspeople are in there.”

  “I don’t know right now how many or who are hostages. I do know one thing. That’s our guy.”

  “You’re kidding me?”

  John shook his head.

  “I can tell you one thing I know. Our John Doe,” Russ said. “Is in there, too.”

  ◆◆◆

  “David,” Jonas said softly.

  He stood off to the side of the window, peeking out. “What?”

  “You told me your name was David.”

  The assailant, David looked turned with a growl. “They’re out there. Is there another way out?” he asked the manager.

  Nervously, she pointed. “Out back.”

  “You don’t think the back door is covered, too?” Jonas asked.

  With another shouting, ‘shut up’ he pointed the gun at Jonas.

  “There’s no way out of here.”

  “Shut up!”

  “You don’t want to do this,” Jonas said. “You don’t.”

  “You don’t know me.”

  “Your name is David. Look at me,” Jonas pleaded. “You know me. I could never forget your face. A month ago. The accident.”

  David stumbled back some. “You lived?”

  Jonas nodded. “I lived. Thank you. David, they’re out there. Just put down the gun …”

  David growled loudly, almost a scream of fear and frustration. “I can’t go back to jail!” He put the gun to his head.

  “No!” Jonas screamed. “No! Don’t! Don’t do it. Let me help you.”