The Tribulations of Jacob Penn

June 2000

Bangor, Maine

Jacob was a quiet child, a bit reserved for an eight year old. From the outside, some people would say he wasn’t special at all.  However, Denise Potter would disagree. As a social worker she saw her share of child abandonment cases, but Jacob’s was stranger than most. While sitting in her car she thumbed through his file. Denise remembered when his case first graced her desk. It was a cool November morning. The police were in the midst of questioning an enlisted sailor on his involvement in a new child abandonment case. They had called her from her across town office, and she listened to his story.  The sailor sat calmly at the detective’s desk, he wore his dress whites, and his dixie-cup rested in his lap.

“I had just left the ship yard. When this guy in a black hoodie, shoved a baby in my arms,” said the sailor. “I told the guy, I didn’t want to get involve but he kept insisting.”

The detective jotted down notes, “How was the ‘hooded man’s a demeanor? Was he afraid?  Did he seem panicked or overly stressed to you?”

The sailor looked the detective in the eye, “No,” he said with conviction. “This dude was angry but he was calm, you know. As a father myself, I know anger when I see it.  I could see it in his eyes. He was a big guy too so I didn’t refuse for long.”

“So you took the child then what happen?”

“The guy thanked me. Then he told me to take the child to a ‘Christian church’,” said the sailor. “I thought that was a little strange, but before I could ask why the guy was gone.”

“Do you think you can give us a description?”

The sailor stood up from his seat. “Not a problem,” he said then paused. “I hope God has mercy on the people the guy is running from. I seriously doubt he will.”

As the sailor left with the sketch artist, the detective took Denise to the child. The infant was wrapped crimson blanket. Monogrammed on the bottom corner were the initials ‘J.G.’ and the symbol of a flying bird carrying a sword.

Denise didn’t tell Jacob, that she still had the blanket. It was rare for a caseworker to stay with a child for so long, but she wanted to see how his story panned out before she retired.Tirelessly she toiled to find him a loving family. Denise searched for years potential parents were few and far in-between. She knew the older he got the less likely he would get adopt. Of course she didn’t tell Jacob that, she always hoped for the best. 

Going over her short list of  adoption candidates she eventually settled on the Penn family. They were a loving southern family who heart always seemed to be in the right place. Denise had a good feeling about them, so she decided to inform Jacob of the new possibility. His group home was on the other side of town. It was a midsized four-bedroom house, which sat on small patch of green lawn. Its guardians look after eight other children around his age. 

Jacob's room was at the end of two-door hallway, which he shared with three other kids. The room had a single closet and a large brown-mirrored dresser. Two bunk beds rested side by side, against a sky blue painted wall. While his roommates were outside playing, he relished the silence. Wearing black gym shorts and a red t-shirt, Jacob lay on his bottom bunk.  He had just started reading Katherine Paterson’s Bridge to Terabithia, when three knocks sounded through his bedroom door disturbing his quiet.  

Jacob sighed. “Who is it?”

“It’s me, Denise.”

“Come in,” said Jacob.

As Denise entered the room, Jacob pretended to read as she neared the foot of his bed. He continued to stare at the pages as she sat on the bottom bunk next to his.