Ty Buchanan [01] Try Dying by James Scott Bell

Author:James Scott Bell [Bell, James Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Thrillers, FIC000000, Suspense
ISBN: 9781599950716
Google: Ga3YxnEuMBgC
Amazon: B000WQ10VK
Goodreads: 7770488
Publisher: Center Street
Published: 2007-10-24T05:00:00+00:00

56

BUT NOT RIGHT away.

I took the box and drove over to Fran’s. She wasn’t home, so I got the key out of the snail statuette she kept in the garden and let myself in. Then I called her at work. She was an assistant in the library at Cal State Northridge.

She said she’d love to have me stay with her for a while. She actually sounded happy about it.

When I hung up I went into Jacqueline’s old room. Just smelling it.

In my mind, I thought I heard a voice telling me to open Jacqueline’s journal.

Then thought, just my imagination. . . .

I took the journal to the big front window and sat on the window bench with it. I opened up to the first page, and heard Jacqueline again at age sixteen.

Mr. St. John was out of control in class today. He kept talking about how there was no soul in animals or humans. We were all part of the same basic group. Different limbs on the same tree.

Of course there’s a soul! You can feel it when you listen to music (except Grunge, of course).

And besides, Mr. St. John, if there is no soul life is meaningless.

Sarah and Paige brought over an old Woody Allen movie, Annie Hall, last Friday. They didn’t like it, but I thought it was hilarious. I loved the part where the little Woody Allen character is sitting in the doctor’s office with his mother and she says to the doctor he isn’t doing his homework!

The doctor asks him why, and the little Woody says the universe is expanding. Someday it will blow up. So what’s the point?

The doctor says that won’t happen for billions of years! So let’s just enjoy ourselves while we can!

That doctor could have been Mr. St. John!

A soul. Jacqueline did believe in it. We’d had one long talk about souls once. She had some sort of intuition about these matters that I didn’t.

“Just give it time,” she’d say. “You’ll see it, too.”

I closed the journal, still hearing her voice.

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