Janie Gideon Chapter 2

in #writing6 years ago (edited)

I have not been able to stop and make something new for a few days, so here is something older. It is Chapter 2 of Is Janie Gideon Missing”
https://steemit.com/writing/@jacksonblair/page-one-of-a-novel-i-am-writing (Chapter 1 link)

Chapter 2.
“So I bet you see a lot going on around here,” Chesapeake said to Ezekiel. No response. He wasn’t a sucker for a pretty face or for a chance to be on television, unless he was shy. It was time for approach number two, just to get over the shy part. “You wanna be on tv? I didn’t get enough to finish my story.” This would have two chances for an opening. One, if the boy was just shy and really wanted to be on television, then the offer would draw him in. Two, if he was wary about a prying reporter, this approach sounded more like business as usual than as a hunt for important information. The only response the boy had was a grunt, but it was something, and it wasn’t a growl or a no. “Is Janie a pretty girl?” Chesapeake asked.
The boy answered, “She is,” clearly and honestly.
“Do you have a crush on her?”
“I’m her friend. That means other than that I have nothing to say to you.” Ezekiel made his big line and made a big exit. He had been practicing. As Ezekiel walked away and Chesapeake watched, they both had big cat-with-a-mouse-in-their-mouths grins. They both got what they wanted.
“He is someone to watch,” Chesapeake thought to herself.
“I told her,” Ezekiel thought to himself.
Across the street, the Gideons were agitated. Gerald Gideon looked tired. He went to an electronic device that he had been given to detect surveillance devices and turned it on. Eliza Gideon turned on a fan, a television, and the radio. “This is what our lives have turned into, a bizarre spy story,” Eliza said not quite to Gerald, bringing a wry smile to Gerald’s face.
“We should be all clear, let’s talk here,” Gerald said to his wife. “I am exhausted and scared,” Gerald confessed, “It seems like we should start alerting people that Janie is missing. What would happen if we do that?”
Eliza’s face radiated compassion and love as she thought that she was married to a very good man. “We can’t and you know it,” Eliza said. “They said if we ever tell people they will withdraw every piece of support she has from them and be left entirely on her own wherever she is.”
“They didn’t say that we would lose complete communication with her,” Gerald quickly responded, his face reddening. “What were we thinking? How did we ever agree to any of this?” Gerald was exasperated and his sense of guilt hung on him like an itchy wool sweater. “She’s a fourteen year-old girl.” A tear streamed down his cheek, a lone tear.
Ignoring the emotion as best she could, Eliza asked, “So what do you want to do?” knowing there was pitifully little they could do. She started getting anxious and tormented herself, “How did we get here? How do you give your daughter away? Aren’t we the worst parents in the history of parenting? The most gullible marks in the world? Uggh!” She thought back on the day they agreed to be in this situation.
It was here in the house, sitting on the living room. Gerald and Eliza sat on the love seat, and a woman called Helen Smith sitting in the red La-Z-boy chair. “I’m sorry,” Eliza had asked in calm surprise, “Are you asking us to give up our parental rights?” It had been an easy question to ponder at first because the answer was a definitive, no-way-in-hell, absolute, negative. But things aren’t always so easy even when they seem so obvious.
“Absolutely not,” Helen replied, “But we are asking that you let her go into situations that you do not have complete control of.”
Gerald laughed. “Ms. Smith, I thought that was what being a parent is. I can’t remember the last time I was in control of anything.”
“Please call me Helen. I recognize the near-absurdity of the situation, but this is an extraordinary situation.”
“I recognize that,” replied Eliza, “But I have not heard anything that would even let me begin to entertain your proposal.”
“Janie is a very special young girl. She has excelled at our school. She has chosen her own path and we have done our best to enrich and refine her talents on her chosen path. Admission to the International Academy of Magnificence itself is an amazing accomplishment, but this is the next step. We have no interest in making this sound like an ultimatum, because it is not. It is simply time for her to take the next step. She can move forward with us or she can go in a different direction.”
Harold’s face reddened, “You will kick her out of your school? And this is not blackmail how?”
“We completely understand your feelings, but this is not a negotiable point. It is not a punishment, but ours is a progressional institution. Her journey at the International Academy of Magnificence is at a turning point. It is either forward with us or in a different direction. We thank you for what you have given of her to us so far and are being brazen enough to ask for much more.”
“We will need some time and we will need to discuss this with Janie.”
“Of course. Just remember that you are prohibited from having any substantive conversations about our institution with people that are not in Janie’s immediate family. Janie will be home on break in 48 hours.” And with that Helen Smith, if that was really her name, gathered up her stuff and took her professionally-ensembled self out of the house and the Gideons had not seen her or heard from her since.
The Gideons sat in a near silent stupor. They didn’t even know who or what the “we” that Helen Smith referred to was. The International Academy of Magnificance did not officially exist. Its representatives called it a school, but they trained their daughter very carefully to never really define anything about it. She had classes and projects but she never gave any specific information. Her teachers had names but nothing was ever verifiable. They had no verifiable information about this institution; they just saw how her daughter blossomed by being a part of it. The place terrified them and they fretted over what she was being trained to do. They knew their daughter and they got to see her often enough to look her in the eyes and believe that she thought everything was all right.
They sat in their living room, realizing that they were going to have to seriously consider the inconsiderable. That day they behaved like typical Americans, stunned Harold reached for the remote control and turned the tv on. Soon Harold and Eliza were making nervous small talk about the news
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