Journal Entry 3 – 9/17/09

I stopped for a long lunch. I figured I should finish my journal in case something weird happens. Jacob sounded like I could lose my memory at any second. To be honest, I think I’m just procrastinating. I can’t believe I’m doing this. I should’ve probably told my sister where I was going, but then again she’d probably have me committed.

Jacob picked me up yesterday and took me to a run-of-the-mill charm shop. It was a garish kind of place to say the least. It was like a giant pre-teen jewelry box. Cheap necklaces, hair ties, you name it, hung everywhere. I noticed the snap bracelets right away. They had every color of the rainbow. Avery would have loved it.

Jacob focused on the clerk. She couldn’t have been any older than sixteen, but Jacob’s hard stare didn’t faze her. I couldn’t fathom what was going on with those two, so I panicked. I bolted to the door and ran into a rack of earrings. Jewelry flew everywhere. Jacob didn’t look. The girl didn’t look. They just continued to stare at each other.

Jacob asked where Jenna was. His voice was so cold that my heart sank into my stomach. I froze, hovering over the mess I had made.

The girl told him that she was in the back. Jacob told me to leave it. Normally, I would have ignored a person who told me not to clean up my own mess, but Jacob’s demeanor had changed. He’s one tough guy− scary. Plus, he called me Drew like I was some kind of close friend. No one had ever given me a nickname before.

I followed him through a beaded curtain. We entered a small room that had thousands of tchotchkes displayed all along the walls. Some were like those up in the front, but most looked older and had a dull sheen. A woman slumped in a beanbag chair with a laptop on her generous lap. Two empty bean bags sat opposite of her. She signaled for us to sit. Jacob plopped down like he’d been there before. I was a bit more cautious.

Jenna asked for an offering. I didn’t know what that meant.

Jacob leaned back all coy and said, “I ain’t gonna to kill yah,” with his thick urban speech.

Jenna smiled, but didn’t laugh, and then politely asked for something else.

Jacob took out a penny and tossed it to her.

She held it up. “1955 double die obverse wheat penny.” She stuffed it in her pocket and started in on me. Jenna knew a lot about Jackson. She called me, “Darrel Jackson’s remaining victim,” and said that we were, “one of God’s little projects.” She told us that Jackson was always looking for new ways to end someone’s life and leave a pain that lasted forever. “He was one of God’s favorites.”

Jacob defended me. It’s like he could see the growing fear in me. He ordered her to stop taunting me and called her a witch.

Jenna argued that I needed to know what I was getting into. She called the angel, “a tool of God,” and said that I was fighting against “God’s Divine Plan.” Then, without any more argument, she took out a brown paper bag. She told me to put the bag into a fire if I wanted to summon an angel for help.

I told her that the only thing that mattered to me was finding my daughter.

There was a slip of paper inside the bag with the GPS coordinates. I was to go to the location and throw the bag in the fire. Burn everything in the bag, including the paper with the coordinates on it.

Jacob grabbed the bag and peeked inside.

Jenna warned that I must go alone.

Jacob jumped down her throat immediately, swearing that he would not let that happen.

Jenna typed on her laptop some more and then informed us that the Morning Stars have been tracing Jacob. She advised Jacob to leave and give me space because his gang didn’t believe in “fighting fire with fire.”

Jacob had me leave by myself and catch a bus back home.

So here I am. Procrastinating at a truck stop. Writing down what happened to me in case my memory gets erased. On my way to summon a real angel to save my daughter, Avery. Like I said, I’ll try anything.

The staredown – rendered by the amazing Gordon Napier. Check out more of his art on his DeviantArt page.