by JR Wirth
Jacob turned back and shushed me. “I don’t want him to know you’re here.”
“Huh?”
Without warning, Jacob pushed me backwards and ran toward the middle of the church.
Still in a crouching position, I lost my balance and fell back into Isaiah, causing him to fall back into Bubba, and like those crazy “Three Stooges,” from the days of black and white movies, we all landed on the ground.
As we unpiled from each other, I tried to get a look at where Jacob was. Suddenly a loud bang came from the middle of the sanctuary. It was louder than any firecracker I’d ever heard.
“Oh no!” Isaiah yelled. He recognized the sound. “Someone’s got a gun. Let’s go!”
Isaiah lifted himself off the ground. He quickly reached for Bubba, pulling him to his feet. Together they ran for the side door. When they got to the door, Isaiah must have realized I wasn’t with them, because he looked back and shouted, “Come on, Hailey!”
I put my right index finger to my lips signaling him to be quiet. At the same time, I waved my left arm for Isaiah and Bubba to leave. “Go!” I mouthed, with a forward thrust of my arm. “Just go!”
Isaiah rolled his eyes and shook his head. And though I couldn’t hear him, I could see his lips. “Not again,” he whispered, with a stomp of his foot. He turned and tried to push Bubba out the door; but Bubba had that adventurous, devil may care attitude.
“Leave me alone,” Bubba shouted. “I’m staying.”
Isaiah shrugged, and in a muted voice, shouted, “Here we go!” He shrugged and led Bubba back to where I was.
When they reached me, I reluctantly looked around the corner. “I hear voices,” I reported.
“Me too,” Isaiah agreed.
“Me three,” Bubba added loudly, just before Isaiah slapped him on the back of the head.
“Shush!” Isaiah quietly shouted.
I stood to get a better look, but stayed a little bit crouched. I saw Jacob standing in front of a man—or should I say a thug—who pointed a gun at him. The thug was about twenty-feet away, I think, but I really couldn’t tell. In reality, it could have been ten-feet or thirty-feet for all I know.
“You should be dead,” the thug yelled at Jacob.
“Well, I’m still standing,” Jacob shouted in return. He then smiled, seemingly taunting the thug. “So, now, what are you going to do about it?”
The thug shook his head while he continued to point the gun at Jacob. He kept gripping and re-gripping the gun, over-and-over, as if he was trying to keep it from falling from his sweaty palm.
“I’m going to shoot you again,” the thug finally yelled. “That’s what I’m going to do.”
“No!” I yelled, and without thinking, I jumped from the hall. As if I were a gorilla marking his territory, I puffed out my chest, hitting it once with my fisted, right hand.
“Are you crazy?” Isaiah yelled. I felt his hand on my arm, tugging, trying to pull me back in the hall.
I suppose he was trying to pull me back out of harm’s way. But Jacob’s well-being was all I could think about. I swung at Isaiah’s hand and stared straight at the thug.
He stared back.
Again, I yelled, “No!”
The thug laughed while he pointed the gun at me. I was scared, but not too scared. It was like I was feeling the same determination, and protectiveness, I felt the previous Christmas.
Suddenly Jacob yelled to the thug, “I’m going to get you!” When he had the thug’s attention, Jacob started running straight for him. I’m sure he was trying to take the attention off of me and the boys. After only a few feet, however, the thug shot his gun. Then he shot again, and again.
Jacob fell forward.
“Oh no!” I started to cry.
The thug stared down at the spot where Jacob fell.
I stood on my tiptoes and tried to get a look at Jacob, but he was out of my line-of-sight.
Suddenly the thug yelled out, “It can’t be!” He shook his head, and his expression turned to intense fear; like when a person in a horror movie is about to be hacked apart by a chainsaw wielding madman. “It can’t be!” All of a sudden, the thug dropped his gun and ran toward the main entrance. “It can’t be!” he yelled again, and ran out the front door. Again, I could hear, “It can’t be,” in a fading voice beyond the closing door.
Watching the horrible event, I froze. Unable to move, I just stared at the main entrance where the thug escaped.
I’m sure Isaiah and Bubba were scared as well. Neither of them moved from their spot, nor did they make a sound.
Finally, Bubba broke the silence. “Poor Jacob,” he mourned.
Overwhelmed with emotion, I looked down and closed my eyes. I tried to hide the flood of tears building behind my eyelids.
Isaiah approached and put his arm around my shoulder. “What the heck just happened, Hailey?” he asked me with a pat on my back. Then without a break in sentences, he pointed and shouted, “No way!”
“What?” I looked up in time to see Jacob bounce to his feet. He appeared quite well and very energetic.
Jacob waved and shouted, “Hurry, he needs our help!”
“Who needs our help?” with my unbelieving voice, I screeched.
“The pastor. Hurry!”
We ran to Jacob’s side. From a distance it was clear that he wasn’t shot. Instead, he must have tripped over the body on the floor. The lifeless body did appear to be the church’s pastor, who now lay on the carpet, in a puddle of blood. How Jacob dodged four bullets, I don’t know.
When we got to Jacob’s side, I glanced at the carnage before me. “Whoa.”
“Is he alive?” Isaiah asked. “I’m glad it’s not Pastor Dave.”
“Why would Pastor Dave be here?”
“One time, I heard him say that he comes and helps out here.” Isaiah paused. “It is Christmas Eve.” He looked around in wonder. “Why isn’t anyone here?”
“The services are tonight. Now let’s save his life!” Jacob shouted in a commanding voice, clearly taking control of the situation. “Isaiah, give your phone to Hailey.” He pointed at me. “Call 911.”
“I’m on it.” I snatched the phone from Isaiah’s tightly fisted grip.
“Okay,” Jacob continued. “Now, Isaiah, I want you to take off your hoodie.”
“Huh?” Isaiah seemed surprised. “But this is my favorite hoodie.”
“Just do it!” Jacob insisted.
Isaiah shrugged and removed his jacket.
“Okay, now fold it up and put it on the wound.” Jacob leaned and pointed to the spot where the blood was pumping. “Right there.”
Isaiah followed the instructions.
“Now, Isaiah, hold it down tightly.”
“They’re on the way,” I happily reported.
“Good.” Jacob looked down at the pastor who was saying something, but we couldn’t understand. Jacob leaned closer. “What is it? What are you trying to say?”
The pastor spoke louder. “Jesus loves you,” I heard him say.
Jacob touched the pastor’s forehead. “Jesus loves you too, and you can be thankful he does. He just saved your life.” Jacob stood and put his hands on his hips.
“Now what?” I asked.
“We wait,” Jacob said. “And a prayer wouldn’t hurt either.”
In silence, we stood around. Except Bubba that is. He seemed quite curious as to how Jacob escaped four bullets launched in his direction. He inspected Jacob, toe-to-head, several times. Each time, Bubba shook his head and said, “Man, how did you do that?”
The fire station was only down the block from the church, so they were the first responders. They quickly took over for Isaiah, who, surprisingly, managed to remain blood-free, except for the favori
te hoodie that was now a memory. Since Isaiah was the one who actually did the grunt work, and saved the pastor’s life, he became the spokesperson with the paramedics, and then the police who showed up minutes later. The ambulance soon followed.
I kept hold of Isaiah’s phone and soon got a text from Jessica. It read: We heard sirens! Are you guys okay?
I replied: we’re fine, should be home soon.
“Your mom texted you,” I reported to Isaiah. “I told her we were fine. No need to get them upset.”
“Good thinking,” Isaiah replied, between conversations with the paramedic and police.
The responding officer, Officer Perez, pulled Isaiah aside, toward the altar. I followed.
“What happened here?” he asked.
Isaiah looked at Jacob. “Well, our friend here saw the pastor on the floor and ran to help him.” He pointed in Jacob’s direction. “Isn’t that right?”
Jacob nodded.
Officer Perez glanced in the direction Isaiah pointed, then looked back at Isaiah with a puzzled look on his face. “Okay,” he said. “What happened next?”
“Well.” Isaiah paused and again, pointed at Jacob. “When he went to approach the pastor, there was a gangster guy, with a gun, who shot at him—three times.”
“Umm,” I paused and cleared my scratchy throat. “It was actually four shots.”
Officer Perez nodded at me and then looked in Jacob’s direction. He shook his head.
“And I yelled at him to stop,” I blurted, adding proof of my bravery. “And then the thug left. He dropped his gun and ran. It’s over there.” I pointed to the gun.
“Good,” Officer Perez responded. “It should make it easier to identify the shooter.” He wrote in a small notebook then looked at Jacob and back at Isaiah. “Do you need to go to the doctor? Sometimes these things can be traumatic.”
Isaiah looked at me, and we smiled. “You have no idea.” He glanced back at Officer Perez. “I’m okay, thanks.”
“Okay.” Officer Perez made his way toward the gun.
When Officer Perez’s back was turned, Jacob patted Bubba on the back and ran to where Isaiah and I stood. “Let’s get out of here,” he urged, with a whispered-rush.
We all ran to the side door to make our escape.
“Hey wait!” Officer Perez yelled.
But it was too late. We continued out the door and then followed Jacob, who ran pretty fast, up the hill and across the street to the park.
Chapter Seven
Hiding in plain sight to avoid Officer Perez, we huddled around the spaceship influenced, jungle gym. We chatted for what seemed like a mere ten minutes, but it was more like an hour, I suppose. The idea of saving a life and scaring off a thug with a gun was too much to keep silent. And since we all had a part in the dangerous church play, we all had tales to tell. We congratulated ourselves with high-fives, fist-bumps, and a ton of hugs. I must say it was quite exhilarating to recall, and relive, the scary moments when death looked us in the eye. And even hiding-out as outlaws was a bit of a rush.
But, as the rush wore off, it seemed to be replaced with sadness; a depression as Grandpa might put it. It left me longing to be home surrounded by the safety of our house and family.
While the boys continued their merriment, I slipped away, hiding the tears that were beginning to flow. After a few moments, I knew I had to do something. So, I wiped my tears and returned to the group.
First things first, I thought, and shoved Jacob to show I was still one of the crowd. “Okay, P-face,” I jabbed. “I think it’s time to go home.”
Jacob slowly shook his head from side-to-side, repeatedly whispering, “No, no, no…” He suddenly paused and looked around the park, and back at the church. Then he waved us in for another huddle. “We must go somewhere else first.”
Bubba jumped. “Let’s go!” he shouted, with that happy-go-lucky smile he always seemed to wear.
Isaiah just shook his head, and said, “Not again.”
“No,” I said. “I don’t think it’s a good idea. It’s Christmas Eve for God’s sake. Cheez-it’s.” I glanced at Isaiah and then Bubba. “Your mom already texted us. They’re worried about us. I think it’s time to go back.”
“Ah, you’re no fun.” Bubba’s smile turned to a frown.
To this day, I don’t know if it was a real frown, or if he made it up to make his point clear. Nevertheless, I frowned back, and stuck out my tongue.
“Wow.” Having seen my retort, Jacob chuckled. “Sticking out the tongue; now that’s not very nice, P-face.”
“You’re the P-face—P-face.”
“No you.” Jacob stuck his tongue out at me.
I reached to grab it, but narrowly missed.
“Na, na, nan-na-na,” Jacob teased me, while he swayed his head back-and-forth.
“Enough!” Isaiah roared, interrupting us for a second time. This time, he rudely disrupted our playful teasing. “We need to make a decision,” he said and grabbed his phone out of my hands. “Thank you, very much.”
“Okay.” Jacob cleared his throat. “If you guys don’t go, then I’ll just have to go alone. It’s like something is calling me to go.”
“Where?” I puffed. I folded my arms in an exaggerated manner to prove my point—that I was mad.
“We need to go to the school,” Jacob said. “Palm Elementary.”
“We?” Isaiah replied, seeming a little upset himself. “I don’t think ‘we’ need to go anywhere.”
I looked at Isaiah. He seemed to be shivering.
“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m getting cold,” Isaiah continued. “In case you didn’t notice, I gave my best hoodie to a dying pastor.”
“Who is now alive because of your hoodie.” Jacob smiled. “And your actions, I might add. Amen to that.” He paused, briefly. “I want you guys to pretend that this is the last time we’ll ever see each other; at least here on Earth. And we have one last chance to have an adventure together.”
Given the way the day had gone, and the past year for that matter, it seemed to make sense. We’ve been given time here together, I thought. And we should take advantage of it, as long as we don’t do anything harmful, or illegal, or stupid. And, we do seem to do some good in this world.
“Okay,” I said, having talked myself into going. “Let’s put our hands in.” I extended my hand to the middle of the circle. Jacob followed, putting his hand on top of mine. Reluctantly, Isaiah went next; and finally Bubba put his hand on top of ours. “Adventure, on three,” I shouted. “One—two—three—adventure!”
After we broke, Jacob looked back at the church then grabbed me, pulling me down. “Duck, everyone.”
“What’s up?” I asked.
“The cop.” Jacob pointed with a nod of his head. “Officer Perez.”
“Got you.” Isaiah nodded.
Hiding from Officer Perez, we stayed in a crouch for several seconds. Though I really don’t know why we were hiding from him in the first place.
Maybe Jacob has a criminal record I don’t know about, I thought. Maybe that’s why he wants an adventure. Maybe he’s going to jail? Or maybe he’s really sick and that’s why he’s so ashy. I looked at Jacob, shrugged and smiled. It doesn’t matter.
Chapter Eight
As soon as Officer Perez went back into the church, we made our break up Palm Avenue, toward the elementary school, where, for a brief minute, I used to go. It seemed as if we were running fast, but, like in a nightmare, when a guy with a meat cleaver is chasing you, we couldn’t move fast enough. It took forever to get there.
Once at the corner of Palm and Belmont, across the street from the school’s giant field, Jacob stopped. He held up his hands, signaling us to stop.
We all stopped and waited to see what Jacob was g
oing to do next.
In silence, from behind, Isaiah and I stared at Jacob. We then exchanged confused looks and shrugs. Without words, gesturing toward Jacob with his head, Isaiah asked, “What’s he up to?”
I shrugged and mouthed back, “I don’t know.”
“I’m looking for a boy who is by himself,” Jacob replied, just over a whisper.
“Whoa.” Isaiah took a step back. “How did you know what we were thinking?”
“I heard you.”
“Holy Cheez-it!” I said. “No way.”
“Way!”
Still confused, I stood still, staring at the back of Jacob’s head. I didn’t quite know what to think of this new, vampire-like, Jacob. The one that could hear voices when there were none, and who could walk through flying bullets, and who knew there would be trouble when no one else possibly could have. I shrugged, and, like a turtle, my shoulders raised and my head disappeared.
It doesn’t matter, I, again, convinced myself. He’s my best buddy—forever.
“The kid is younger than us,” Jacob reported. “He’s probably closer to Bubba’s age.” He nodded upward at Bubba. “Maybe you know him?”
“Maybe?” Bubba’s voice screeched. “Maybe not?” I think he was as choked-up as we were, and may have been captivated by the idea that Jacob had super powers. At least it seemed like Jacob had super powers.
I took the lead and we joined Jacob in the search for the young boy. “Isaiah and Bubba–you guys go that way, down Belmont.” I pointed to the east. “And Jacob and I will go up Palm.”
“Sounds good,” Isaiah replied. He grabbed Bubba by the hand. “Let’s go.”
“Let’s go!” Bubba shouted.
I nodded in the other direction, up Palm. “Come on, let’s go find this kid.” We crossed the street, heading up Palm Avenue. “What are we looking for anyway?”
“I don’t know.” Jacob smiled and kicked a pinecone in the middle of the sidewalk. “It may be a girl.”