Jacob's Bell by John Snyder

Author:John Snyder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: FaithWords
Published: 2018-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

After walking the streets, Jacob calmed down to the point where he began thinking rationally again. He contemplated returning to the mission, but feared Howard would shun him. Instead, he sank down onto a bench to rest a spell while he pondered what to do. Overcome with a nagging feeling he should return to the mission, he rose and began walking in that direction. On his way, he thought about his budding relationship with God, and his journey toward forgiveness. For this, he desperately needed Howard’s assistance.

The following morning Jacob felt much better after enjoying a good night’s sleep. There were no nightmares, not even any pleasant dreams. Seeking out Howard, he found him walking down the hall.

“I didn’t think I would ever see you again,” Howard said.

“I was sure you wouldn’t. But after hours of prayer I decided to come back. Can you ever forgive me?”

“I have nothing for which to forgive you. What you told me is in your past. I want to help you with the present and the future.”

Jacob began to speak, then hesitated.

“What is it, Jacob?”

“Last night made me come to the realization that I need to find Tom and Frankie. I’m ready to ask them for their forgiveness. Will you come with me for support?”

“Today?”

“Right now, while I have the courage. Besides, it’s Saturday and Tom should be home.”

“Sure I will. But where will you begin looking for them? Chicago’s a big place.”

“When I searched for them, I met a woman who lives at their last address. She said the landlord might have Tom’s forwarding address. The landlord wasn’t home when I tried to speak with him.”

“Let me grab my jacket and we’ll go.”

Howard and Jacob set out to talk with the landlord in hopes he could give Jacob the information that would lead them to Tom and Frankie. When they arrived at the landlord’s home, an elderly woman was sweeping the front porch. Jacob stopped at the bottom of the steps and called out to her.

“Excuse me. I’m looking for a Mr. Schmidt.”

“I’m Mrs. Schmidt. How can I help you?”

“I’m trying to locate my son, who used to live down the street at 1641. The woman who lives there now said your husband may have my son’s address.”

She invited them inside, introducing them to her husband. Mr. Schmidt was tall and skinny with a head of thick, uncombed hair. He wore blue suspenders to hold up his baggy pants.

“Thomas McCallum?” the man asked to be sure.

“Yes,” Jacob replied.

“How long ago would it have been?”

“About two years ago, maybe?” Jacob wasn’t quite sure.

The man licked his thumb and began leafing through a thick pile of papers he pulled from a file.

“Thomas McCallum…let’s see.”

Jacob and Howard anxiously looked over his shoulder. The man tugged on his suspenders, then slipped his glasses down on his nose.

“Ah. Here we go. Thomas McCallum. Actually, he moved not far from here, just a few blocks up on Wabash.”

Scribbling the address on a piece of paper, he handed it to Jacob.

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