The Passenger by Jacqueline Druga (the giving tree read aloud TXT) 📗

“Miss?”

“Oh, hey, yeah, wow. These cookies look great.”

“I made them. Chip’s Chips. I’m Chip.”

“They look so good.”

“Did you want to buy some?”

“No. I mean. Yes. That was rude.” She pulled out a bill and put it on the counter.

“Would you like anything else?” he asked. “We have great tea smoothies.”

“Look at you upselling, I’m impressed.”

“Excuse me?”

“Listen,” she leaned into the counter. “I’m passing through town. Is there a place where I can get a drink? Maybe when you’re done …”

Jonas chuckled almost shyly, shaking his head.

“What?” she asked.

“Look, you seem nice and all. But … I kind of am interested in someone right now. But thanks.” He turned to the window behind the counter and grabbed a bag.

Jessie’s jaw dropped. She stammered a few words that were more like noises.

“Mr. Truett?” Jonas called. “Your sandwich is done.”

Jessie stormed away.

Trying to hide his laugh, Grant approached the counter for his bag. “What was that about?”

“Oh, she was hitting on me.”

“Can’t have that.”

“No, I can’t, plus ...” Jonas crinkled his face. “She gave off this weird vibe. Who knows? Maybe it’s me.”

“No, I don’t think so.” Grant held up the bag. “Thanks. See you tonight.”

It took everything Grant had not to burst out laughing, he found the encounter amusing.

Jessie didn’t. She was angry when he returned to find her at the coffee shop.

“He said I was hitting on him,” Jessie said. “I just thought, maybe mention drinking …”

Grant nodded. “Went right over his head.”

Jessie folded her arms. “He looks really good.”

“I know.”

“Mom needs to see him.

“What’s your verdict?” Grant asked. “Team Mom or Team Dad.”

“Team Jonas,” Jessie replied. “And he’s not here.”

“You believe the amnesia?”

“One hundred percent, but Dad, as much as he looks great, is happy, that is not my brother,” Jessie said. “And sadly, the Jonas we all know will return.”

TWENTY-THREE

It was a pattern he had seen before, but Grant just could not remember where. A figure eight, chain link design. Grant couldn’t name the type of flowers they were. Yellow ones made up the ‘eight’, pink ones all surrounding. The design ran from the side of the church to the front, repeatedly.

Quietly, Grant took a picture. He didn’t want to be ‘too much’ and was worried Jonas in his amnesiac state would think he was a creepy old guy. He had spent the entire evening practicing with Jonas, spending all the time he could with him. Jessie’s words stayed heavily on his mind.

In short, she was saying enjoy him while he could because once Jonas remembered, Chip would be gone.

“Mr. Truett?” the soft woman’s voice called.

Grant jumped a little and turned. “Oh, Haley, sorry.”

“I saw you standing there. Everything alright?”

“I’m just taking pictures.”

“Beautiful isn’t it?”

“I’ve seen it before,” Grant said. “This exact pattern.”

“Then he created this before?” Haley asked.

“I’m not sure. I don’t remember it being here a couple days ago.”

“It wasn’t. Chip has been working on it constantly.”

“I just wanted to take pictures. I’ve been documenting everything, sending it to my wife.”

“Is she enjoying them?”

Grant shrugged. “I don’t know. She doesn’t comment on them. She doesn’t believe our son has amnesia.”

“There are times, every now and then, that I wonder if he knows who he is. Maybe just not wanting to admit it. Then I see that look in his eye and I know, he has no clue. He’s lost. You can’t fake the look of wonder.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s like he’s a baby that’s seeing so much for the first time. Maybe your wife will know that pattern.”

“Maybe. I really should get going. I don’t want him to see me hanging around.”

“Can I ask why?” Haley questioned.

“Because the last thing I want is for him to think I’m weird and to then back off. I’m just so in awe of him right now, I can’t get enough. He always loved music, it brought him so much joy. But not like this.”

“Again, it’s that baby thing I was telling you about. But it’s okay. No one thinks you’re weird. Chip will not think that. I promise. And it’s understandable. You were so worried about him, missing him. It’s your son.”

“Is it?”

“Yes.” Haley tilted her head. “Is there anything about the way he acts that is like the Jonas you know?”

Grant chuckled. “Maybe when he was twelve. When we got him that guitar he was so sure he was going to be a rock star and famous. Everyone was going to sing his songs.” Grant smiled. “When he was a kid, he had this naivety about him. Such an innocence. I loved that about him. His innocence. Every other kid was wanting to grow up so fast, but not Jonas, he loved being a kid. He did things for people. Was upbeat and happy.”

“Sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah, I guess it does. You know, we searched for answers.” Grant looked down at the flowers. “Trying to find a reason why Jonas just flipped a switch. Some traumatic experience we didn’t know about. But … that’s not how it works. Sometimes the best kids can get caught up in some bad stuff.”

Haley nodded. “I have known a few. It’s a disease.”

“Yes, it is.”

“What was he like? The Jonas that went and disappeared?”

“You know … I’m not going to tell you. I’ll leave that for him. My son, he likes you. You’re a very nice woman, Haley. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No, I like him, too. And you’re right, you’re absolutely right for not telling me. I don’t want to judge Chip on who he was before he can remember it.”

“Exactly. And again, I should go before he sees me lurking.”

“He’s not here. He’s at the field. It’s the weekly softball game.”

“My son ... is playing softball?” Grant asked.

“You sound surprised.”

“Yes, he never played sports in his life.”

Haley laughed. “No wonder he’s so bad. He hits well, can’t catch worth a squat.”

“I tried to teach him. He just wasn’t interested.”

“Do you play softball?” Haley asked.

“I did when the kids were young. He used to come to