Jicky Jack And The Ominous Promise

Chapter 1

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Chapter 1

What’s Coming Is Here After 150 Years

 

J.R.’s eyes popped open and shifted from side to side. They were filled with suspicion and for good reason.

It had been six days since his grandfather said it was coming. And in that time, J.R. was sure someone or something had been stalking him.

Worry and fear quickly flooded his mind. He knew he’d run out of places to hide. And now, something else was wrong—something new.

He could feel it.

He wiggled his nose with irritated twitches. Then he puckered his lips, rolling his gaze downward. And while focusing past the end of his nose—looking almost cross-eyed—that’s when he saw it.

“What in Sam’s Dams is going on?” J.R. grumbled in a jaw-dropping state of panic as he rubbed his fingers in a downward stroke over a Fu Manchu mustache. “That’s it. Grandfather owes me a better explanation.”

Things were getting worse. Everything from the feeling of a menacing stare on the back of his neck, with each trip to and from school, down to the shadows jumping around in the tree outside his bedroom window every night. And now this—waking up with a Fu Manchu mustache.

J.R. peeked out from under his bed.

The coast was clear.

He rolled out, jumped to his feet and did his fastest cleanup ever, including the painstaking process of shaving. That part he hated. Razor burn is no laughing matter at twelve-years-old.

“Oh great, late again,” he grunted, while glancing at the clock and pushing through his typical eight and a half push-ups. He knew getting a better explanation from his grandfather would have to wait. So, he grabbed his backpack and dashed for the door.

“Jicky-Jack, I’ll be back,” he whispered, rubbing the head of a gray wooden statue of a peregrine falcon.

J.R. opened and closed his door as quietly as possible thinking that his grandfather might still be sleeping. But that didn’t seem to matter because a loud snake-like call echoed from down the corridor.

“Psssssst.”

J.R. looked in the direction of the call but saw no one. He and his grandfather were the only two with bedrooms upstairs, and his grandfather’s door was closed. Then it came again.

“Pssssssssst . . .”

It was followed by the clicking of a latch and the squeak of a knob. The door to his grandfather’s bedroom opened.

“Hey, Jackrabbit,” whispered his grandfather while peeking around the frame of the door, “is that you?”

J.R. didn’t really like that nickname but he lived with it. He knew his grandfather meant well, giving it to him because J.R.’s first name was Jack and because he was a fast runner. But what he didn’t understand was why his grandfather was acting so mysterious and whispering like he was.

At the end of the corridor, his grandfather, Mr. C, as he was called, rested his bony hand on J.R.’s shoulder, and pulled him into the doorway and out of the hall. Then he coughed and cleared his throat. “Jackrabbit, listen to me and listen carefully.”

J.R. listened and made a mental note of the fact that his grandfather was dressed in a gray silk suit instead of his pajamas.

“It’s happening,” he declared, staring into J.R.’s puzzled eyes. “I told you it was coming and it’s here. It happens only once every 150 years, Jackrabbit. You’re the one. You’re next in line for the secret honor. And you can stop the spread of that pandemic. It’s probably in your blood.” He coughed again, this time muffling it in the bend of his elbow. And J.R. seized the opportunity for more answers.

“What’s coming, what secret honor and what’s in my blood?” asked J.R., feeling his heart pound faster and faster as his voice began to shake. “Something or someone’s been following me, grandfather, I can feel it. Who is it? And what’s wrong with me? This morning I woke up with a Fu Manchu mustache. And what’s a pandemic? I don’t even think I really know what that is.”

“Oh, you will,” said his grandfather. “You will. Your life will never be the same after today, Jackrabbit. That’s a life-changing promise you can count on; I saw it in your tree.”

J.R. guessed his grandfather’s mind was slipping but he didn’t dare to say such a thing. He just nodded, all the while feeling something was seriously wrong.

“What do you mean my tree? And tell it, whatever it is, that I don’t want any of this.”

“I should have seen it in my own tree,” said his grandfather, casting a piercing stare into the corner of his bedroom as if gazing beyond the wall. “But no matter about all that, I can’t tell you anymore than I already have. Except to say, it fits like a key to your destiny, and you’ll have to make the connection before it’s too late and before the pandemic spreads. Keep your willpower strong, Jackrabbit, and follow the signs.

“But grandfather, what key, what—”

“Now, off to school, you’re running late as usual. And here I want you to have this ticker before I . . .” his grandfather paused as if deep in thought and scratched the gray whiskers on his chin. “Well, never mind that. It’s for your birthday. It’s a pocket watch. It’ll help you stay on time.”

Mr. C placed a sparkling gold watch in J.R.’s palm and bent over to whisper in his ear, “Each time it’s opened, something happens.”

J.R. slipped the watch into his pocket as his grandfather commanded his attention and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“And remember these three things, J.R. One . . . the death of a flower or fall, is the beginning of life in the spring. Two . . . you can’t stop time for life, but you can stop life for time. And three . . . last but most importantly, the machine has time on its side.”

Mr. C’s posture sank, and with a deep sigh he pushed J.R. on his way, and then closed his door.

“Ok, this is too weird,” said J.R. “School, get to school, that’ll be normal. Wait, did I just say that? I must be losing my mind.”

J.R. raced along the corridor then slid down the banister of a golden-oak staircase. His thoughts raced as well, what did Grandfather mean, fits like a key to my destiny?

He hit the landing below and charged into his mother’s den. And as usual, she was watching the morning news before heading to work at the library. He zigzagged through towering stacks of books and sat next to her on a small couch. Together they listened to a horrific story being broadcast on the morning news.