Interlude 1 - A Fine Work of Art
"Grace, once lost, is a void that aches with the longing for the divine touch." — Dietrich Bonhoeffer
Note: This is labeled as an interlude rather than a chapter. What is an interlude? It is “a break from the main narrative of a fictional story in order to receive the viewpoint of another character or characters, often to further the story or to give us an expanded perception of the story.”
If you haven’t read any of part 1, it is best that you start here → Prologue
The Old Man
The old man pulled the rotary dial phone across his desk, preparing to make an important call. This particular phone, with its distinctive dial and the feel of its clicks as he dialed the number, gave him a satisfying feeling.
Modern cell phones didn’t scare him. He owned half of a mobile phone carrier and invested in it decades ago. Nostalgia kept the antique telephone on his desk.
“Hello?” He spoke with the calm, steady voice for which he was known.
“Oh, it’s you.” The woman on the other end sounded disappointed.
“I gather you’re not having a good day.”
“One of your charity cases is acting up again,” she complained.
“The same one?”
“Yes, and don’t ask. In my opinion, he is making my safe house anything but.”
The old man sighed. “He had such potential, but I suppose he’s made his choice.”
“I’ll take care of him,” she said, her voice filled with sadness and relief. “And you didn’t call to talk about him, nor is this a social call.”
“Have I been that neglectful?” The old man chuckled, but meant to be sincere.
The woman’s voice relaxed. “No, it’s good to hear from you. What’s the problem?”
“Someone else might need to take refuge in your safe house.” He paused for a moment. “A special someone.”
“Oh no,” the woman gasped. “What about his mother? I thought she was doing well.”
“Well, matters have become complicated. When they had to disappear, I believed they were safely anonymous.”
“Is something wrong?”
“I don’t know yet, but I suspect something unexpected has happened.”
“So you have a hunch.”
“You, of all people, should know to suspect every little whiff of danger in these cases.”
“What has you so suspicious about this situation? What’s the danger?”
“Her friend lost contact with his mother.”
“I thought you didn’t know her whereabouts.” She challenged him.
“I didn’t, neither did her friend. They communicated using aliases regularly on some social media site. There’s been no word from her for weeks.”
“You hardly call me to say ‘hello.’ Why do a couple of weeks matter?”
The old man removed his glasses, pinched the bridge of his nose, and stayed silent for a few moments. “They connected faithfully one to three times a week. This contact knows her best and is worried. Frankly, so am I.”
The woman on the other end took a deep breath. “How can I help? What do you need me to do?”
“Nothing at the moment. I need to investigate this. It may take some time. But her son may need a place in your safe house.”
“Is he in danger, too?”
“If something has happened to her, then her son may be at grave risk.”
“I’ll clean up the house, starting with that troublemaker.”
After the phone call ended, the old man leaned back in his leather chair and steepled his fingers. The only person who would be behind this was someone he hadn’t had contact with for years. An informant passed on information suggesting one of their organization’s resources had gone AWOL. That would be a good place to start.
He opened his file drawer, looking through his contacts. Hopefully, his trusted private investigator can do all the legwork where his old bones can’t. She can track the dog from which the flea came. If anyone can find him, she can, before his son.
Next, he found the file of Oscar Powell, a long-time friend and attorney. Oh, how he missed him! It had been nearly a year since his passing, and he still found himself wishing to tell Oscar about some kid they had assisted, just as he had done for Oscar’s daughter when she was in trouble.
The old man wished he could ask his friend where he had placed the mother, but he took that information with him to his grave and left no clues to her new identity.
In his file, there was a Thank-you note from Oscar addressed to him:
“From our days in high school, when you brought extra lunch or gave up your own so you could share it with someone who had none, I have watched how you always gave and gave. Even when you made your millions, I thought you might start taking it all back. You surprised me by secretly finding someone in the gutter and giving them a new life, or in my daughter's case, taking a wayward youth and giving her the opportunity to make something of herself. Though others may not know what you do, I am grateful to have you as a friend and be a silent witness to the fine work you do.”
Author Note: I suppose that if you’ve read this far, you’ll know about Grace’s death. She was one of my favorite characters, although the readers may not have fully understood her. They may have seen her as overly protective, but with just cause. She also didn’t explain herself to young Jake for fear that, in his innocence, he might repeat it. So, I left several subtle clues and cryptic messages about her objectives.
Killing off a key character can be a difficult decision, but one that I didn’t take lightly. Nor did I just suddenly decide she had to go. I’ve been foreshadowing her death from the beginning.
You might recall from the prologue that, during their escape, she thought, “It might be their death sentence.”
That was a little too obvious, but before then. The very first thing in the prologue was the epigraph, which read, “they whose hearts are firm … and will pursue their principles unto death.”
Those epigraphs aren’t just cute quotes. They were all carefully chosen to give clues. The chapter titles as well. And this interlude’s title has significance.
Now, Jake must move on without his mother. We’ll have to see how well he survives with Brooke at his side.