TJByrum
Member
|
Foreword: The Case of Amelia Jackson is the first short story for the The Jed Anthology. They will be Southern gothic tales featuring the titular protagonist Jed Connors and his partner, Camille Jackson. This unlikely yet dynamic pair is brought together by common purpose and navigate the prejudices and supernatural dangers of the 1970's American South. I have seven scenes planned for this particular short story, but only parts I and II are complete. They were written by me, revised by someone else, and then re-written by me to maintain some originality.
Future submissions will involve mystery, action, and adventure in this setting, brimming with Southern folklore, urban legends, cryptids, and more. My writing is inspired by William Faulkner and Flannery O'Connor, artists like Tyler Childers and Cole Chaney, games like Hunt: Showdown, and works like The Devil All the Time. I'm looking for feedback and honest criticism!
Part I: Clyde's Diner
Jed rested the newspaper on the counter. ‘Help Wanted’, he read, ‘Missing Person’. The ad also included the lister’s name, Lamar, as well as a phone number and address. He recognized the street name and knew it was somewhere in the city’s ghetto. He took a sip from his coffee and considered the job. It was just another morning in Clyde’s Diner: Jed was an independent private investigator, and he often sought jobs in the local newspaper while eating breakfast and drinking coffee at the diner.
“Find something?” It was Clyde, the owner, speaking from across the counter.
“I did,” Jed replied. “Daughter missing. Contact Lamar with information,” he read from the article.
Clyde was a slender old man. He had graying blonde hair and a thoughtful demeanor. He had owned and operated the diner for three decades. Located on the outskirts of the city, Clyde’s diner, much like himself, was well-known among the community and served a diverse clientele. He often overheard or gathered many things from his customers, making him privy to the goings-on of the city and its surroundings. Nodding, Clyde would say “Lamar? I heard the name just yesterday. Daughter of his – young thing – went missing about a week ago. Lamar thinks she was kidnapped.”
Jed regarded Clyde with curiosity, “a kidnapping? What have the police done about it?”
Clyde shook his head, “asked some questions, not much else. Little girl was black, you know how it goes. Case closed as far as they’re concerned.”
It was an upsetting reality, the prevalent racism and prejudice in the American South. Many of its African American inhabitants were confined to ghettos and slums, and the local law enforcement seldom addressed crimes in their neighborhoods. It was no surprised, Jed thought, that the police were doing nothing, and that Lamar was looking for more help.
This is where Jed stepped in. Where official authorities faltered, he would offer his services and bridge the gap. He had an aptitude for figuring things out, and his rural upbringing and military training served him well when push came to shove. His time in Vietnam had been brutal and had given him no pleasant memories, but it had given him invaluable skills and cultural insight.
Clyde winked at Jed, smiling, “I think you ought to bring that little girl home.”
Jed nodded. He took a final sip of his coffee, tossed a dollar on the counter, and stood up. “I think that’s a mighty fine idea.” He departed the diner with determination.
Part II: Lamar and Camille Jackson
Greenwood Heights stood as a testament to both the resilience and challenges of its inhabitants. The signs of infrastructural neglect were apparent: cracked roads and weathered building exteriors painted a picture of better days gone by. Most businesses had shuttered, leaving behind locally-owned establishments struggling to make ends meet. The towering apartment complexes bore the marks of time, their fading façades telling a tale of wear-and-tear. In this gritty neighborhood, children found their playgrounds in alleyways and overgrown lots, while teenagers gathered on street corners. On one such corner, an old man concealed a bottle of liquor in a weathered brown paper bag.
Spotting the man with the hidden bottle, Jed whispered to himself, "I feel you, man," a reminder of his own battle with alcohol, a vice acquired after the war. His own bottle of whiskey lay hidden beneath the seat of his car.
Eventually arriving at Lamar's address, Jed parked his truck nearby and took a swig from his hidden bottle. He made his way into the run-down apartment building, a unit among many. The fifth floor was his destination, where Lamar resided. Jed located the adjacent stairwell and ascended.
Upon reaching unit 503, Jed could hear the voices of a man and a woman inside. Knocking, he waited, initially met with silence before sensing movement behind the door; he knew someone was looking through the peephole. A woman's voice, brimming with zeal, inquired, "What?"
Identifying himself as Jed Connors, he explained his purpose for seeking Lamar. The door swung open to reveal an African-American woman, her features a striking blend of pleasantness and fierceness. Behind her stood an older man. “What do you want?”
"I'm looking for Lamar, I saw an article about..." Jed started before being interrupted by the woman.
“My sister?”
The older man spoke up, “Camille. Let him in.” Camille rolled her eyes and reluctantly let Jed into the apartment. “My thanks,” he said, removing his hat.
The apartment was quite plain with its single couch, TV, the chair where the man sat, and an end table. Jed found his seat on the couch, while Camille stood with her arms crossed.
“Who are you?” Camille inquired with zeal.
“You can call me Jed,” he replied. “I’m an independent private investigator. I’m here to look for Lamar’s daughter.”
Lamar remained quiet, understanding that his passionate daughter would take the lead. "She was my sister, Amelia. She’s been missing for almost a week, and the police haven’t done anything about it. I rode a bus back down here to help look for her," Camille spoke, her determination palpable. She glanced at her father, then back at Jed. "If you’re expecting a reward, don’t. We don’t have much."
Jed nodded, expressing concern. "I understand. Don’t worry about any payment. We can focus on that after the job is finished. Now," he cleared his throat, "when it comes to these matters, time is everything. And I need to know everything. Her appearance, her age, the last things you said to each other, places she might have been, where she was last seen."
Amelia, who had been out of state during the kidnapping, looked to her father for him to speak. "She woke up Tuesday morning and left for school," Lamar started. "She’s twelve, but responsible. I don’t have to wake her and get her ready. We didn’t speak that morning, but we did watch some programs and talked Monday night, nothing unusual. All I know is she didn’t come home that evening."
Jed stroked his beard. "And the school? Did she ever show up?"
Lamar nodded. "She showed up. I called McCaul’s Middle myself." He shrugged. "She left on time. Something must have happened to her on the way home." Grief tinged Lamar’s voice as he struggled to recount the story. "Police asked around…" he shook his head, "nobody saw nothing."
"Do you know the route she took?" Jed asked.
Lamar nodded. "I do—"
"Same one I took when I went to McCaul." Camille looked over at her dad with a hint of anger, then at Jed. "I was going to walk it before you showed up. Someone had to see something."
Jed guessed Lamar refused to let Camille walk the route. Perhaps he was afraid something might happen to her too. He looked at the father to see what he had to say. "The neighborhood she walks through… they won’t tell us anything. You understand."
Jed did understand. Amelia was probably last seen in a white neighborhood, and no one there wished to speak to Lamar or Camille or get involved with the investigation. "I understand," he said. "Maybe I can walk it, see if I find anything."
Camille stepped forward. "I’m coming with you."
"Camille," Lamar said, despairingly.
"What?" she retorted. "He doesn’t know the way. I do. Let me go with him. I’ll find Amelia, and I’ll bring her home."
Lamar sighed, but Camille was right. She did know the way, and she was determined to find her sister. "Fine, if it’s alright with Jed. Just… be careful. I love you."
"Love you too," she told him. Then looking to Jed, said "you said time was everything. If we’re going, let’s go."
Jed stood up. He wasn’t expecting a passenger, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about having Camille come along. Nevertheless, he wasn’t going to argue with a furious woman. "Let’s go."
|
Printable Version
Icon Legend
New Messages
No New Messages
Hot Topic w/ New Messages
Hot Topic w/o New Messages
Locked w/ New Messages
Locked w/o New Messages
Post New Thread
