Hello, Little Sparrow by Jordan Jones (ebook audio reader txt) 📗

She didn’t care for Brooks any longer, and he began to notice when her creative worlds became darker. She wouldn’t be galloping on a horse through the backyard; it was a tamed werewolf. She tamed it with magical berries, and she could command it to kill at her discretion.

And she did. Often.

It was only a few days after this Brooks saw the work of his father in the garage behind his house. His uncle Samuel was also over on certain days of the week, and they would disappear in the garage for hours. Mother was unfazed by this and never questioned their deeds.

She would hum joylessly as she cleaned up the kitchen, and hum louder the more it bothered her. Brooks wrote how she got sick and was tired most days towards the end.

He didn’t understand what his sister went through, but he had some idea. His cousin, Angela, also experienced much of the same, but she didn’t have revenge in her mind.

Jody would have. She would’ve been there with Brooks through the murders. She would’ve helped him clean fingerprints from the crime scenes.

Brooks didn’t write crime scenes…they weren’t crimes. He used more appropriate terms. Terms that fit much better than a crime.

Angela was weak and forgiving. Jody would’ve been strong and spiteful.

Exactly the way she should’ve been.

Brooks wrote about the last day of Jody’s life. She had told him she wanted him to grow up and “Do what you think you have to do.”

Brooks didn’t know what that was. He had gotten straight A’s in school, went on to get a bachelor’s in biology, and a masters in horticulture.

He was aimless with a very good job.

Until Madison finally showed him the way.

Much like Madison, Jody’s death was tragic…it was mourned by everyone who knew her, and everyone who didn’t.

Father and Uncle Samuel would continue their deeds for a few months until they were caught and each sentenced to twenty and twenty-five years respectfully.

Uncle Samuel died less than a week after being released from prison after pulling a knife on a man at a bar just outside Paducah, Kentucky. The man was trained in mixed martial arts and made quick work of Samuel. The man connected with several punches and knocked the inebriated Samuel back several feet before he tripped over a rock and slammed his head against a trailer hitch on the back of a pickup truck.

He was pronounced dead at the scene. After locals discovered his history, the news clippings soon left the papers.

Father was released from prison three years ago. Brooks couldn’t find it within him to locate him.

He was afraid of what he might do.

He felt sweat beads form on his head as his hand formed the letters to the paper.

There was a knock at the door.

“Custodian,” exclaimed the woman from outside the door. “Mr. Ingram, are you in there? If so, you forgot to leave your trashcan outside your office. Mr. Ingram?”

Brooks jolted up and grabbed the trashcan from under his desk and hastily opened the door and set it out without acknowledging the woman.

“Thank you, too,” she said with a smirk, and walked away.

Brooks returned to the paper and intended on reading his masterpiece…but it wasn’t there. The jagged squiggly marks covered the entire page from top to bottom.

There were no words at all, only lines. There were sharp edges, circles, and straight lines. It looked like nothing was accomplished…to the layman.

Lines came to a point at the top and bottom, almost like a showcase of what was inside. Brooks took a step back and exhaled. He had expected the words would dance off the page and into his pupils much like Jody, but this wasn’t that at all.

He couldn’t understand it.

It was a convoluted, jumbled mess. Nothing was where it was supposed to be.

It was perfect.

Chapter Twenty-Seven

The eggs were sizzling in the skillet at six o’clock the next morning by my own hand; Katherine wasn’t there to prepare my every meal like she had before. It was comforting having the movement I needed in my right shoulder again. The pain had subsided and the movement came back…I was almost full-strength.

I turned on the local news to see if any good happened the night before. I was hopeful they didn’t catch wind of the party we all had at the Maise house last night, or the investigation would be in dire jeopardy. The Sparrow was already keen enough on his own.

We didn’t need the news showing our hand.

I also didn’t want him knowing we found his letter to us. I was sure he’d love the fact we read it and still had no clue who he was or where he lived.

A sportscaster gave some scores of some basketball state tournament games and the meteorologist gave us the predictable early-spring gloom on the radar. They had the easiest job of all.

The eggs were too salty and not peppery enough. Katherine made them perfect every morning. She was a pro in the kitchen, much like her mom, but I never found my way into the kitchen long enough to learn.

Katherine was too embarrassed by her old man dancing like a goofball while stirring the spaghetti to take me seriously. I thought we’d grow closer learning things together, but that wasn’t the case. There was always the distance, even when we were feet apart.

The month she spent with me in the cozy cabin made no difference, and her stealing my debit card was proof of that. My indifference only accompanied my enabling by showing her that I knew, but also didn’t care.

Money meant nothing to me.

Nothing was everything to me. I was shocked at that thought. I wanted pursuit of The Sparrow to give me that drive again…much like after I