Frustration: Part I

Hours were beginning to turn into days, and Peter was growing increasingly frustrated. Ripped papers and crumpled notes scattered his house as he and Jake scoured through all of Rose’s daily journals in an attempt to find some sort of lead that would help him uncover the people he felt were responsible for killing his beloved wife.

He had read through entry after entry, and each one became increasingly painful. He couldn’t stop himself from visualizing his perfect wife as he read her writings. Her sweet laughter that rang through the house day and night, the scent of cinnamon against her skin after her many hours cooking, and those big, brown eyes that always sparkled the moment he came home.

There were several moments he had to stop reading and excuse himself because the memories became too suffocating. It took everything in him to maintain as much composure as possible, and he felt like he was attempting to hold back flood gates with bandages. Jake, who was usually incredibly talkative, had hardly said a word the entire time they were together. He felt himself at a loss as he watched the high chairman wade through the murky waters of unending grief. However, as dawn was fast approaching, he felt it best to encourage the high chairman to take a break from their search.

“Sir,” he began.

“What is it, Jake?” Peter didn’t bother to look up from the leather-bound notebook.

Jake tried not to look at his boss’s puffy face and bloodshot eyes. “I was thinking that maybe we could stop for dinner? You haven’t eaten all day, sir.”

“That may not be a bad idea,” Peter sighed, pushing back the notebook and rubbing his weary eyes. “I haven’t had much luck. Have you?”

“No sir, but there are still a lot of journals left. I’ve learned a lot about Charity, though, which is nice. I miss talking to her every day,” Jake said as he pulled out his phone to order takeout.

“I always wished you two would have worked things out,” Peter commented.

“I think we will one day. I would like to, at least.”

For the first time since he found out his wife had died, Peter laughed. He clapped Jake on the back as he chortled loudly. “That’s a good one,” he finally said. “Thank you for that.”

“I didn’t mean it as a joke,” Jake murmured. “Does she really hate me that much?”

“I wouldn’t say she hates you, but your desire to reconcile is definitely a one-sided thing,” Peter replied, still laughing.

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“Is there anything I could do to change her mind?”

“Jake, you dated my daughter for two years, and you never realized that girl does not change her mind once it’s set? I like you, but I highly doubt Charity will ever consider dating you again.”

Jake slumped over. He had always hoped that Charity would come back to him, but hearing from her father – the man he admired most in all of Exoneron – how unlikely his aspirations were left Jake feeling as if he had lost the wind in his sails. However, he was unwilling to completely give up hope. He was certain there was something he could do to earn Charity’s trust again. He just hadn’t found it yet.

Before long, their food had arrived. Jake and Peter sat in silence as they slurped their noodles and thought of what to do next. Peter thought of where other potential leads could be, but Jake thought of ways he could begin to win back Charity. Jake eyed his watch and realized curfew was coming close. He quickly cleaned up and began getting ready to leave.

“Where are you going?” Peter asked, picking up a new journal to comb through.

“It’s almost curfew, sir. I need to get home while it’s still safe,” Jake replied.

“I’m going to tell you something that can’t leave this room,” Peter said.

“Okay,” anticipation filled Jake’s voice as he returned to the bar stool at the kitchen counter.

“There are no monsters, at least none that would attack people without reason.”

“What?” Surely Jake had heard wrong. No monsters? Then why would Caladun be forced under a curfew and confined to their homes?

“King Abaddon started the curfew a century ago to stop people from trying to stir up trouble in the middle of the night.” While an audible gasp escaped Jake’s lips, Peter continued his explanation with a disinterested tone as his eyes scanned Rose’s journal. “With his tower being so close to a lot of small mountain towns in this region, it was a central point for rebellion attacks. Over the years, those towns have died out, but the king thought it best to maintain the curfew just to avoid any other nuisances.”

Jake was confused, “Why not just tell people that? And since when have there been rebels in Exoneron?”

“There have never been many rebels. A few small groups will rise up from time to time, but they never last and usually get rooted out before they can cause any harm,” Peter clenched his fist in an attempt to suppress his anger. If only he could have acted sooner and stopped the rebels he was searching for before they managed to kill his wife.

“As far as why people aren’t told that,” Peter continued, “it’s easier to keep them home if they think they’ll die if they leave after a certain time. It’s also better to not mention rebels or rebellion to people. We don’t want to give naive people ideas and cause them to forget all the good King Abaddon does for them.”

“So, do you want me to stay longer then?” Jake asked.

“If you can, I’d appreciate it,” Peter replied.

“Alright. But if you don’t mind my asking, what do you plan to do when we find the people you’re hoping these journals will lead us to?”

“We bring them to the Elite and smile as they schedule an execution.”