Chasing Mr. Jones

“I’m not dead.”

Those three little words woke me up in the middle of the night. So clear that they made me question whether or not I was in my right mind. I sat up, confused. An array of scattered thoughts and emotions struck me and pulsated through my brain. I looked over at my last picture with my dad sitting on my nightstand. Was I supposed to really believe something that I had heard in a dream? I lay in my bed until 6:15, my anxiety slipping up my arms and legs pinning me to my bed. I used to be able to not sleep at night because trauma and restlessness were saturated in the floor and marinated in the walls of my room. Sadness washed all my hope away, swarming me with an even greater wave of confusion and angst.

I got ready for school faster than I ever did before and I walked downstairs, stairs feeling like pins and needles under my toes. I turned the corner, and there she was, a strong, beautiful woman, cooking breakfast and packing my lunch.

My mom looked at me with her mesmerizing eyes and a sincere smile and asked, “How’d you sleep, sweetie?”

“Fine, I- I guess…” I said with extreme hesitation.

“Well, breakfast is ready,” she said as she checked my lie. “Sit down and tell me what’s the matter.”

I took a seat at the day bar and inhaled as if I was taking my very last breath. “Ok…well… Dad’s not dead,” I muttered.

“What was that, hon?”

In a slightly more pronounced voice I said, “Dad’s not dead. I had a dream about it and he told me.”

Shock overtook my mother’s whole body, paralyzing every muscle. And in the moment, I was faced with immediate doubt and denial.

“Your father has been dead, for a year now, Chase…” she said in a flustered manner. “I know you were close, but he isn’t coming back.”

Close.

We were once close, I thought to myself.

He walked me to school, he came to all my recitals and performances. So many shared smiles and laughs, weekly ice cream outings. He never let me down and he NEVER lied.

My mind snapped itself back into reality, and in retaliation I responded to my mother and said, “Why can’t you just believe me this once?!”

My temper and voice grew louder as rage combed through every fiber of my being. Before I knew it, my feet were carrying me faster than ever out the door, to the bus, and up to the front doors of my school. In school, I sat and thought to myself. I was told that dad was never coming back, and after a year of being told so, I started to believe it. He was gone…at least I thought he was.

The bell rang and I met up with Abby in the hallway. Like clockwork, she rolled up showing her radiant smile. She looked at me for a minute as I just stood there in a complete daze.

“Chase, are you okay?” Her voice flew in through one ear and slipped out the other. “Chase…Chase, what’s up with you today?”

For a second she was almost as confused as I was. I tried to say it, but my words choked me. I felt my breath getting shorter and the minute I felt I was about to pass out, it came out.

“Abby… my d-d-dad’s not dead,” I uttered as I held my head low.

She reached in to console me and said, “Huh? W-what are you talking about? How do you know this?”

Words poured out of my mouth as a movie reel of last night’s events ran through my head. Now Abby knew, and I thought I was crazy for even having the nerve to tell her about my dream.

“I believe you,” she said, and finally I felt a release. I could finally breathe in peace.

Abby touched my shoulder and asked, “You want to find him, don’t you?”

“Yes,” I replied.

Abby hugged me and said, “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

I called my dad’s old friend who was an police investigator at our local police station. Daniel has always been like an uncle to me and I knew that he, like myself, would not rest until we found dad; especially if he had any reason to believe that he would be alive.

Bringggggggggg. Bringggggggggg

“Hi… Daniel,” I said nervously.

“Hello. Who is this? ” he replied.

“It’s Chase. Do you think you can help me with something? It about my dad,” I said.

What was a phone call became a face to face sit down between me, Daniel, and Abby at the police station.

Daniel looked at me and let out a deep sigh saying, “Chase… I-I don’t know what to say. Your father’s case went cold and has been closed for almost almost six months.”

There has to be something you didn’t check that could help us find him, I thought to myself.

“And nothing seemed out of the ordinary to you all?” I asked in a contemplative tone.

Daniel replied apologetically and said, “We looked at his purchase records, business exchanges, and call logs; nothing seemed off.”

Email, I thought to myself. “What about his email? Did you check that?”

“We tried,” Daniel replied. “But because of his job, and his security clearance, he has a password security system that is too hard for any of our system here at the station to handle.”

Abby sat up in the chair quickly, raising her hand like the teacher’s pet in my class.

“I think I can help you unlock his email.”

Many people don’t know, but Abby is super into technology in coding. She had spent two whole summers away learning to stop cyber hacks, encrypt codes, and break down firewalls.

“Ok,” Daniel said as he lowered his voice. “That will work, but this is not an official case and I don’t want to draw attention, so we will have to work at my house.”

My arms flew around Daniel’s neck suffocating him with appreciation and my embrace. My walk home was quick and brisk. I felt like I was walking on a cloud compared to earlier in the morning. Mom saw me and didn’t really speak. Guilt from her comment that morning glued her lips shut. I went straight to sleep hoping to make time go faster and get to the next day.

RRRRRRR. RRRRRRR. RRRRRRR

My alarm went off and and my feet like springs, propelled me out of bed, into my clothes, and out the door. I tiptoed down the hall to the office. There it was, untouched. Everything exactly how he left it. Maneuvering like a stealthy cat, I removed dad’s laptop from the charging dock.

My feet carried me mindlessly to Daniel’s house. Knock knock knock. He opened it with a giant smile on his face, gesturing me to come inside. Abby was already there and she waved her hands, pointing to the couch as if it were a landing strip.

We opened the laptop and Abby got to work. What seemed like hours of trying to get into dad’s email passed, but then Abby sat back and said, “Done.”

All of dad’s emails were now at our disposal. Daniel took the computer and he scanned the screen looking for any red flags.

After about two hours of going through junk mail and trash folders, Daniel inhaled sharply and exclaimed, “Chase, Abby, check this out!”

It was a email. Dated June 22, 2014. Exactly one year and two days ago. The day I got the news that my then-14-year-old self couldn’t handle. It read,

Mr. Jones,

Meet me at the corner of South St. and Winchester Ave. Mr. Dobbs has not been happy with you. Come with your debt in totality, or there will be consequences.

1. Sacks

It was no coincidence this was the email dad got two days before he disappeared. Abby’s cousin had set up her computer to go on the black web earlier that day. Abby and I put the name J. Sacks into the search bar. We scrolled through what seemed to be hundreds of search results; cross referencing key words we found in the email. Before we knew it, a whole hour went by and a one site in partiular had a search result that helped to connect all the dots.

            Jonathan Sacks– Bodyguard for hire– specially trained in the use of firearms.

Click the link below for contact information and rates.

clwc–5r6hti/eiwnc.bz.

There it was. The link that could answer every question I’ve had for the last year; one click away.

Click.

A number appeared and before I could say anything, Daniel picked up the phone and I heard the dial tone in my ear.

Bringgggggg, Bringgggggggg.

Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. All I heard was static. When it finally broke, I uttered, “Hello, this Chase Jones.” The breathing on the other end of the phone was labored and heavy. In hesitant response, I replied, “I-I was wondering if you could tell me about an email you sent to my father, Kevin Jones.”

Before I could say anything else, the voice said, “He’s gone, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” The phone became butter and it slipped out of my hand with ease.

“What’s wrong, Chase?” Daniel asked as he gave me a concerned look.

I couldn’t answer.

It had to be him. Sacks. He took my father, and has held him ever since. Right?

I played all these statements over and over in head and I ran out of answers to tell myself. My body began to quake and I went numb. The car ride home felt surreal.

Abby leaned in to me and said in a comforting tone, “We got a lot done, and we’ll get even more done tomorrow.”

“I know,” I said with glazed eyes and a monotone voice, still numb and in shock.

That night I heard nothing else, said nothing else, and thought nothing else other than what I heard on the phone.

“He’s gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.” “He’s gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.”“He’s gone and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Minutes of sleeplessness turned into hours of sleeplessness. The sun came up and I got text. It was from Daniel.

I could see Daniel from all the way down the street. He seemed eager. Like a child who can’t sit still. When I finally approached him, he pulled out a small piece of paper, white and wrinkled, folded about four or five times.

4075 Creek lodge place, Burtonsville, Md 20867

“What’s this?” I looked at Daniel with a baffled gaze.

He looked at me with raised eyebrows and shrugged shoulders and said, “His address. Sacks’ address.”

“How did you get this, Daniel?”

“I pulled a few strings,” he said as he shrugged and leaned in for a hug.

Next thing I knew we pulled up to a small cottage-like home. It was in a cookie cutter neighborhood. My palms got sweaty and my breathing got heavier. I knew I was ready to face whatever or whoever to try and find my dad. I knocked on the front door and was startled when it opened slowly. Daniel, who had on his police tool belt, drew his weapon and turned to me.

“Chase, stay here. No matter what you hear.”

“No! What if he’s in there?”

“Then I’ll come get you,” he said in a very serious tone. “But DO NOT COME INSIDE.”

He turned quickly.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeee. The door squeaked and he entered with caution.

I don’t know if it was adrenaline or the mere fact that I never stopped anything once I started, but I pushed open the door and followed behind Daniel like a shadow does to its owner. It was dark. It all seemed unreal.

Boom!

I flinched in terror when I heard what seemed to be someone dropping twenty-pound weights. It was dark and the air felt dry. My eyes jutted from side to side scanning the room with haste. I was trembling and tried to feel my way around what seemed to be a pitch black maze. Daniel came up behind me and held my arm until it felt completely deflated.

“What are you doing?” he whispered intensely. “I thought I told you not to come it at all.”

I gasped and my words asphyxiated me. “I’m sorry. I-I-I-I-”

Boom!

There was that noise again. Daniel raised his gun sharply and pointed in the direction of its origin. It was coming from a small door. Again what seemed to be millions of tiny pins and needles coated the floor.

Thump thump thump thump.

Both of our ears shot in the direction of the footsteps. The door swung open and out walked a tall, brute man with another smaller, slimmer flung over his shoulder like butchered meat. The slimmer man was bound and the hands and feet, and completely black and blue in the face. The larger man threw his hostage on the ground and I took a closer look. Barely recognizable, it was him, battered and bruised laying lifeless.

“Dad?”

The larger man looked up in rage and spotted me and Daniel perched behind an armchair and began to approach us, but before he got to us I thought to myself:

It was love that set apart a dream and allowed him to talk to me. It was love that pushed me to fight for him when my mother wouldn’t. It was love in the form of friends who had helped me find Jonathan Sacks. It was love that brought me back to dad.

And it is love that will always push me to keep chasing my father, Mr. Jones.