The Journal: A Prophecy, A President & Death

by Parker, W. Leland

  Confused, Alice leans forward with a soft, “What?”

  Danning opens his eyes and looks over at her raising his index finger as to say, one moment.

  Mary asks, “Including his family?”

  “Yes, please.”

  “Okay.”

  Danning continues, “Cross out anyone who worked for or with Mr. or Mrs. Market before the first episode.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Who does that leave?”

  Frantically marking her copy and checking notes Mary says, “One moment, sir … um, yes. That’s just about everyone except four or five people at their church and, uh, three people from Mr. Market’s company.”

  Leaning back in his chair, Danning ponders for a moment. “I know that you cannot tell which of them have not met Joseph, but can you tell me which you know for a fact have met the boy?”

  “Um yes, sir, that would be Carla Brayson and Ken McCuchin from the office, and Henry Copland, Mrs. Thompson, and Calvin Stone from their church.”

  “Hmm. Can you finally tell if anyone in this group entered their lives after the first chat room message referencing Joseph’s episodes?”

  That leaves only Miss Brayson and Calvin Stone, sir.”

  “Alright then.” He swings around to his computer, which is directly behind his desk, logs in, takes a deep breath, and without looking at the NSA agent says, “Miss Wheaton, I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my head, before you say what I know you’re going to say, may I first ask you a favor?”

  A little impatient, she replies, “Well, since I’m certain you’re gonna ask me to focus the teams on these two people, I’ll say yes, on the condition that you can satisfactorily answer my question.”

  Ramirez interrupts, “Hey, would one of you geniuses let me in on all of this?”

  Danning, “The question you’re gonna ask is why would I focus on persons entering the boy’s life after the first episode when that would make it impossible for them to have influenced the lad. And that makes perfect sense if you are looking for someone who told him what to say. My basic premise is we are looking for the person who came into the boy’s life because of the first episode.”

  Ramirez adds, “Which means we are trying to protect the kid from someone rather than find a conspirator.”

  Danning, “It’s four p.m., we’re coming up on twenty-eight hours before—according to the prophecy—the president dies. I no longer care where the threat is coming from, I simply want to do all that I can to protect everyone of value. I believe that someone came onto this scene because of the first episode, and that person is a threat to the kid.”

  Alice asks somberly, “And what about the president.”

  “I’m gonna put him in the bunker with two doctors.”

  “What! Really, what?” They reply almost in unison.

  Alice says, “You can’t be serious!”

  Danning “I can, and I am.”

  “But this is a criminal investigation, and as such, we need to see this kid as having made threats against the president, or working with someone who IS a threat to the president. In either case, we cannot simply drop our investigation of everyone else based on a hunch.”

  “Miss Wheaton, Bill, with all due respect, if something happens to the president only one of us will be looking for a job. We have spent days tracking down an accomplice that we don’t know exists, built on a conspiracy theory spanning nearly ten years, and that quite frankly make the Kennedy assassination sound like a game of tic-tac-toe! Sooner or later Occam’s Razor proves itself, and for my money and my job, the kid’s telling the truth about his source, and someone is now watching him,” directing his comment sternly at Alice, “to perhaps kidnap him and torture him!”

  Ramirez, “Wait, wait, wait. What’s– What’s Occam’s Razor?”

  Mary pipes up, “The principle that the explanation of any phenomenon should make as few assumptions as possible, eliminating those that make no difference in the observable predictions of the explanatory hypothesis or theory.”

  Ramirez looks at her blankly, and in monotone says, “Oh, okay, thanks.” He turns back towards Danning with a confused expression and in expectation of a plain English answer.

  Alice adds the clarity he wanted, “In other words, all things being considered as equal, the simplest answer is the most likely,” and turning to Danning, she says, “and perhaps I can agree with that.” She stops a moment and thinks. Then she asks Mary, “Miss Sorenson, between Miss Brayson and Mr. Stone, what are the relative distances from the first episode to their involvement with the Market family?”

  “Mr. Stone came to work at the same church as the mom, eight months after the first episode, Miss Brayson joined Mr. Market’s company at about six months.”

  Danning, leaning forward in his chair, “How close to when James first talked about it in his chat?”

  Mary, “That came about five months after the actual episodes, so it closes the gap to about three months for Stone and one month for Brayson.”

  Now intrigued by this line of thinking, Ramirez says, “So Brayson started working for the dad just one month after the first premonition went online?”

  Mary, “That’s right, sir.”

  Danning rises slowly to his feet, “When did they apply for hire?”

  Mary, “Wow. The same day, sir, exactly two weeks after the first premonition.”

  Alice jumps on her cell phone, talking to someone in her office she says, “I need the phone records for a Miss Carla Brayson of New York City, and a Calvin Stone of Middletown, New York, emailed to Deputy Director Harold Danning in two and a half minutes. You will get an email from Mary Sorenson of the Service with the dates. I want to see it in about one and a half minutes.”

  On that note Mary jumps up and scurries out of the room to get back to her office. Ramirez jumps on the phone to Al Hinton, and Danning turns to his computer to send a text message to Lauren. While the door is still swinging close behind Mary’s swift departure, Danning yells out, “Mark, get me the White House Chief of Staff!”

  Ramirez, “What are you going to tell him?”

  “I don’t know, I’m kind of praying for something to come to me. It needs to be something that doesn’t create such a disturbance that the press would seize upon it. That way if it all goes south, it won’t be an embarrassment to the president. Something that can fade into history as forgotten.”

  Ramirez, “Why don’t you have him go visit family, you know a family emergency of some sort that displaces the blame.”

  Alice, “The press will find out, that’s a given; it’s just a matter of when, and how well we can control it.” They both look at her with impressed surprise.

  Danning, “I’m sorry but that idea’s no good, a family emergency requires too much planning and has too many potential problems from helpful civilians.”

  Ramirez, “Okay, let’s keep it among staff, how about a missed Dr’s appointment? You could get his physician and him to an undisclosed location.”

  “Yeah, I was thinking along that line. It’s just that the press is all over his schedule. No, that’s no good either; his health is a matter of public record, they will certainly ferret it out.”

  Alice, with a tinge of frustration, “Well then, how’s that prayer coming?”

  Danning, “Funny you should ask. I think I’ve got something.”

  Alice and Ramirez look at each other, intrigued.

  Danning makes a call from his cell phone and turning his back to his office guests has a short, hushed conversation that from this end consists of only, “Good afternoon, sir. Excuse the interruption, but I’m intent on running 2100A-F4 … Yes, sir, I know; but I think the timing is right … Uh-huh … Uh-huh … Five minutes, sir … Yes, sir. I will, sir.” Then, with a very slight smile, he turns and pulls out his laptop and launches a secure program.

  Ramirez asks, “Harry, what are you up to?”

  But Danning only holds up his index finger to indicate, Wait. He t
hen begins typing in a few codes and calls out, “Where’s that Chief, Mark?”

  • • •

  Mr. Hinton, Mr. and Mrs. Market and Joseph are all milling around on the front lawn of the Market home. True to his promise, Hinton immediately gets on his cell phone to try and rouse the electrician that is all that stands in the way of them reoccupying their house. The agent makes his call but uses his free ear to keep track of the conversation in progress among the Markets.

  Robert asks, “Joe, let me ask you a question. Do you think that Mrs. Phelps is treating you differently?”

  Joseph, “I don’t know. How do you mean differently?”

  Instantly Robert remembers whom he’s dealing with; His son Joseph has a very high requisite for honesty and transparency. It’s a complete waste of time to beat around the bush with him. Robert thinks a moment, and after a sigh he simply asks, “Have you noticed her staring at you, or being suspicious with you now, as opposed to before Mr. Phelps died?”

  Joseph laughs a little and says, “Well, I honestly don’t think so, Dad, but Jimbo swears that she hasn’t trusted me since her sister died, when I was just a kid.”

  Joanna cuts in, “But Joe, what about recently, in the last few weeks or days, have you noticed her … staring at you?”

  Joseph, with a very uncharacteristic dryness, “You mean like right now?”

  Following his gaze, they all turn their attention to the Phelps home, and there again in the front window stands Mrs. Phelps. Even Agent Hinton is distracted from his phone call to see the woman just standing there, unmoved.

  Robert, while not breaking his view of Mrs. Phelps says, “Folks this is just plain silly, we all see each other, we might as well be upfront about it and go over there and settle this matter.”

  Joanna says to her husband with a playfulness that comes from great relief, “See? Told you I wasn’t crazy.”

  As they proceed across the street, Robert kids back with, “Well, I wouldn’t count this one account against the mounting evidence compiled.”

  She pokes him in the side to silence his teasing.

  Meanwhile Agent Albert Hinton is at a crossroad. This is an excellent opportunity to slip back into the Market home to search potential hiding places for Joseph’s journal that he had gleaned from his private conversation with the young teen. But NSA Agent Clarkson was anything but vague with his instructions on what Hinton’s primary assignment was to be from this point forward, Protect the Market family with your life. Annoyed, as he is prone to be, but a good agent who follows orders, Hinton decides to tag along. He calls out, “Mr. Market, my phone seems to have dropped the call, you think she’d mind if I used her phone?”

  Robert, “I don’t think she’d object. Do you want to use my cell? I’ve got four bars.”

  But Hinton who is intent on being as close to them as possible quickly replies, “Well, this guy is kind of hard to get on the phone, I’d rather play it safe from a land line.”

  “Okay.”

  They reach Mrs. Phelp’s home and are greeted by her nurse.

  Robert, “Thanks Mary, looks like we may be inconveniencing you all for a few more hours still.”

  “It’s no inconvenience, sir.”

  He leads them all to the front room where Mrs. Phelps is now innocently sitting looking down so you could not quite see her eyes. As they gather into the room, he asks, “Mrs. Phelps, I couldn’t help noticing that you were taking a um … long look at us through the front window.”

  Mrs. Phelps, who has not lifted her gaze to meet anyone’s eyes, says, “Oh?”

  By this time Hinton, who was bringing up the rear, says, “If you don’t mind m’am, I’m Insurance Adjuster Al Hinton, might I use your telephone for a local call?”

  At this she looks up, perhaps simply to see who was asking her to use her phone. As she does, Joseph steps from behind his mother and in front of Hinton, and Mrs. Phelps becomes transfixed. She stares at Joseph with great uneasiness.

  Joanna steps in front of her son and says, “Mrs. Phelps what’s the matter? Why are you looking at Joe that way?”

  She looks up to Joanna and says, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude, it’s just that …”

  Robert takes over with, “Okay, let’s all just take a seat and talk a moment. Obviously something is bothering you, Mrs. Phelps, could you help us understand what it is?”

  They all take a seat. Mr. Hinton stands in the doorway. Mrs. Phelps looks over at each of them, first James, then Joanna, and then finally Joseph. She continues, “I’m sorry. I’ve been a little unsettled of late. It’s just that—well, do any of you remember the name Margaret Jennings?” They all look at each other and somewhat uniformly indicate that they did not … but Joanna seems to have a vague memory. “Joanna, surely you remember, we stood in this kitchen and talked about it.”

  Joanna, “The name seems somewhat familiar.”

  Mrs. Phelps, “Well, a week ago I was away, remember?”

  “Yes, I remember.” says Joanna. Her husband and son nod in agreement.

  “I was at Margaret’s funeral.”

  Joanna’s mind begins to recall. But Robert says, “I’m sorry, if you please, would you … could you simply explain how that’s significant, and why it causes such uneasiness with our son, Mrs. Phelps?”

  Mrs. Phelps continues, “So you don’t remember Joseph saying, He loves his servant Margaret, he loves her more than she can know,” At this point Joseph begins mouthing the words as she says them, “She will be happy to serve the Lord nine more years. Nine years, two weeks and two days …” Joanna notices Joseph and with shocked expression nudges Robert to show him what their son is doing. “Sweetly will he visit her and tell her how well she served him as she sits wrapped in purple in her favorite reclining chair.”

  Robert, who is equally surprised, says, “Okay, what just happened here?”

  Joanna, “It’s the prophecy, from when Joe was– THE prophecy!”

  Robert looks at his wife as what she meant registers on his face. He calls Joseph over to him, “Joey, how did you know what she was going to say?”

  Joseph, “I don’t know, I kind of remembered it as she was saying it.”

  Robert, at a loss for words says, “Soooooo.”

  Mrs. Phelps interrupts, “So, this is the prophecy that he told about Margaret and I just went to her funeral. She died wearing a purple shawl.”

  Hinton seizes the opportunity to remain involved and says, “Hey, I don’t mean to pry in your personal business, but as an insurance man this is extremely interesting. Are you meaning to say that you just came from a funeral that this kid predicted?”

  Robert scratches his head, “Unbelievable!”

  Hinton, “Wow, that’s just amazing!”

  Mrs. Phelps continues, “I’m really surprised that you all don’t remember. This has been with me for the last nine years! You see, Agnes, Margaret and I were best friends, Margaret and I went on to college together and Agnes, you do remember, is my sister. Well, after Aggy died, as Joe predicted, I wrote down this other prediction. Carl thought I was nuts, but since I had a friend named Margaret I always felt I should remember this, just in case, so I would recite it from time to time. So, a few weeks ago when Aggy died—I mean, when Margaret died—I began to become very uneasy around Joe, I’m terribly sorry, but God only knows how he knew the things he knew, and– He hasn’t done anything wrong, have you Joseph?”

  Joseph looks at her, “No, ma’am.”

  Hinton, still in pursuit of Joseph’s elusive journal adds, “This is completely amazing! You people should write a book or something. Is not any of this written down?”

  Joanna, “I do have some of it chronicled in my daily journal, but that’s about it.”

  Then Joseph adds an oh-so important tidbit, “I did, too!”

  But before Hinton can begin to ask of the whereabouts of those journals, Mrs. Phelps drops another bomb, “Well, you don’t need any journal, ’cause I remember what he said, a
nd I checked the dates on my calendar. Margaret died nine years, two weeks and two days after her husband, Sam; exactly as Joseph predicted nine years three months ago, tomorrow!”

  • • •

  Lauren hands James a twenty-dollar bill as they approach the New Jersey Turnpike toll plaza. Careful not to let the bill blow away out of the convertible, he folds and stashes it in the wristband of his watch. When they reach the booth he cheerfully says, “Good afternoon.” But the attendant doesn’t even look up to acknowledge him. Undaunted, he receives the toll card from her hand and passes it to Lauren, and warmly says, “Thanks! Have a blessed rest of the day,” which leaves the attendant with a surprised expression, and perhaps the beginning of a slight smile. James smiles broadly as they pull away, none of which is lost on Lauren.

  She looks at him, impressed but not at all surprised. Lauren feels she’s got James pretty much figured out now, and with great personal satisfaction she’s confident that James Market is simply a really, really nice guy … and not at all a religious nut! He’s into it to be sure, but if they were to become an item, she thinks, he would not drive her crazy with endless morality speeches. Lauren is not completely sure why arriving at this understanding was important, but now that she’s there, she can better concentrate on her assignment. But first things first, she asks, “Did you enjoy baffling that poor booth attendant?”

  James struggling to contain a smile of his own, “Baffle her? I wasn’t meaning to baffle her, I just thought she could use a little warmth.”

  “Uh-huh. And the fact that her sour face was struggling to keep from smiling at how nice you were, didn’t give you any … personal satisfaction?”

  “Okay, I will admit that it’s good times when I see someone react positively, their spirits perhaps lifted by a small dose of loving kindness, but I don’t flatter myself into thinking it’s my doing, I just happen to be the right person in the right place at the right time.”