By Monday

By Jaemes Michael Wilkens

Trent Pennington, a scientist, returns from deep space to find Earth in chaos. The mayhem is much worse than the planets leaders suspect. He spent the last sixteen years aboard an ancient space vessel against his will. Despite that, he has become very powerful. To Penningtons surprise, his wife Sarah has entered politics, and risen quickly.

They have secrets that they both prefer to remain hidden. Will they work together to save the planet from Armageddon, or will they oppose each other? Will they renew their vows, or go their separate ways?

The saga progresses at a brisk pace as events unfold. Troubled citizens become desperate. They involve themselves in nefarious plots. None understand what drives them, as impending doom approaches. The planet can only be saved by collective efforts.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Nov 13, 2014
• ISBN: 9781496949530

Jaemes Michael Wilkens

Jaemes Michael Wilkens is the author of Memories Found. He was born and raised in the Northeast and attended college in Pennsylvania. He currently resides in Florida.

Book preview

© 2014 Jaemes Michael Wilkens. All rights reserved.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means without the written permission of the author.

Published by AuthorHouse 12/16/2014

ISBN: 978-1-4969-4954-7 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-4955-4 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4969-4953-0 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2014919379

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Thinkstock are models,

and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Thinkstock.

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Chapter 50

Chapter 51

Chapter 52

Chapter 53

Chapter 54

Chapter 55

Chapter 56

Chapter 57

To All My Children and Grandchildren

True Wisdom comes to each of us,

when we realize how little we understand about life, ourselves, and the world around us… Socrates

CHAPTER 1

H E WOKE UP to an unimaginable predicament. In front of him stretched a plethora of stars, countless billions of them. Glowing in the center was a bright yellow haze. It was mesmerizing. Trent B. Pennington had been traveling aimlessly in deep space for at least fifteen years. So long that he lost track. His patience, like his old life, was long gone. He felt hopeless and alone. His only companion was Zamby, the ship’s main computer system. She was the greatest creation of artifical intelligence ever devised. The rest of the crew consisted of disengaged robots. They provided little fellowship. To make matters worse, Zamby stopped communicating three years ago, due to an apparent malfunction. With her demise, came an endless drift through space and time.

Epsilon One had become his home away from home. She was shaped like an orb. Her hull consisted of connecting cubes. Some detached for emergencies but others had a different purpose. She was capable of shape change and was as broad as ten football fields. Out of necessity, she transformed her appearance from a saucer many years ago. Until now, the old Jesper ship had been as dependable as a Sears DieHard battery. She had limitless energy for any job. Of course, that was before she ran out of gas. Since then, Epsilon was slowly being pulled into an omnious black hole. The abyss was located at the center of a very large star system known as M31, the Andromeda Galaxy. This huge spiral galaxy was located in the Andromeda constellation, two and a half million light-years from Earth.

Trent, now in his mid-fifties, had too much time on his hands. Some days, time passed so slowly that it seemed irrelevant to keep track. The genetic scientist became unkempt and depressed. His salt and pepper beard gave him the appearance of an elderly American Civil War Veteran. Trent’s eyebrows would put Andy Rooney’s to shame. His muscles were atrophying from lack of exercise. Boredom was excruciatingly painful for a fella with ADHD. There was one curious bright spot. Trent was not aging. He didn’t understand why. That bothered him at times. Pennington was not the sort of guy to let things get him down though. Trent knew his determination and toughness would somehow get him out of this mess. He was trying to remain optimistic about his chances. He couldn’t help who he was. His genetics were set at birth. That was his impression until he met Eddie, his closest buddy. Discovering the M gene together changed everything. His main focus now was clear. Trent longed to return to Earth to be with Sarah. She meant more to him than life itself. His quest had become the obsession that kept him going.

Sarah was the love of his life. She was the one who kept him grounded. She was as sweet as could be. The South Florida housewife had many friends and loved sports. Trent, on the otherhand, had few friends. He spent all his time immersed in scientific work. He had little time for others. But that wasn’t the only reason. He could be quite selfish at times. Pennington was introverted. He didn’t care much for other people.

It was mid-morning Earth time as Trent sat in his favorite seat, the Captain’s chair. The most prominent object glaring back at him from the central display panel had not changed. In fact it had not changed for years. It wasn’t any closer yet no further either. M31 took up almost a fifth of the large floor to ceiling panel. At the far left of the screen was a tiny tip of the Milky Way and with it, Earth.

Trent stared at the spiral bands extending out from the center. They moved so imperceptibly slow that he could not appreciate the counter clockwise movement. The scene was mesmerizingly beautiful. Like on so many prior days, his large boyish blue eyes transfixed on the sparkling bright star. It glowed just off to the right, amongst the denser bands of stars. The object pulsated rapidly. He had no clue when the star went supernova. But its hypnotic effect was putting him in a trance. It made him forget about all his troubles, if just for a moment, and the life left behind the day he was abducted off the trawler at Lake Baikal.

Thoughts of Sarah preoccupied his mind most days. He presumed she must have been shocked at his sudden disappearance. Did Sarah think he fell overboard and drowned? Did she even remember him anymore? The uncertainty was painful to him. What about his pals? Did they think that too or did they know better? The truth was far more intriguing. Only in a science fiction novel would a giant invisible flying saucer fly by a boat and scoop up a man. Then, after passing overhead, travel at many times lightspeed into the deepest regions of outer space, never to return. Trent broke off the trance and looked back at the Milky Way. The disc like galaxy seemed oh so close. From this distance, Earth was just a pinpoint of light in a sea of white specks. It was too far away to tell it was the Blue Planet.

Pennington returned his gaze toward Andromeda. Several large space rocks darted across the monitor, like shooting stars on a crisp autumn night. One by one they sped up from right to left, then quickly disappeared in a straight line toward M31. Trent jumped up and ran in front of the main control panel. He momentarily tripped over his left pants leg only to regain his balance. His dank, navy blue space suit was slightly too long for him. The ship’s emblem was on his sleeve, three concentric triangles with a small t in the center. As he got up, a faint noise grabbed his attention. He glanced behind him for a second. The dim lights from the bridge gave the room a dull haze. The overhead lights were on standby in order to save power. He gazed across the oval shaped room but found nothing out of place. It was very quiet again. The silence was deafening.

Perplexed, he scratched his cheek ever so slowly with his right hand. He coughed once or twice to clear his throat. Trent turned his attention back to the events unfolding outside. Pennington stepped down off the platform to get a closer look out the bridge window. He saw nothing except for the dark void of space. Almost instantaneously, the panoramic view switched to the rear of the spacecraft. A moment later, the screen flickered and returned to the forward view. He did not understand what was going on. Am I finally loosing it?

The ship’s computer system was linked to his mind. His every thought was shared with Zamby. If Trent wanted to see what was going on out back, the rearview would appear on screen. It would occur instantaneously. Everything on the ship functioned the same way, from the kitchen, to the life support systems, to the weapons. All aspects of the ship were at his command telepathically. It had been that way ever since that fateful day back at the underground base in Central Russia. It was the day he and his team discovered the saucer. Zamby had imbedded the computer data banks into his brain the moment they met. Trent spent the last fifteen years trying to figure out whether he was accidentally scanned by Zamby or was it his destiny as she said. He was getting closer to the answer when Zamby stopped working.

Satisfied that nothing was happening, Trent sat back down. Just as things seemed tranquil, the ship jarred again as though it was struck by something. The third jolt a moment later was much larger. An alarm went off. It sounded like an ear piercing, pulsating shrill. Trent bolted out of his seat and ran frantically off the bridge. The floor lights pulsed in step with the alarm. It was enough to give an epileptic a seizure. In an instant, Pennington raced down the hall in his bare feet. After only fifteen feet he tripped, smashing his face on the hard floor. Oblivious to the pain, he stood up and kept running. He rode the auxiliary elevator down three decks to the engine room. He opened the door. There, he found Spitzer standing in front of a workstation, adjusting the ship’s pitch. It was the first time in a few years he encountered an active crewman. Usually, they were collecting dust, slumped over in a corner.

You’re working? Trent asked. His pupils dilated. Surprise was an understatement.

Do you find that odd? replied the metallic machine dryly.

Shit yes. I’ve been alone on this hulk for what, maybe three years?

Actually, it’s more like five, Spitzer replied. Not that anyone is counting. His voice had a raspy digitalized quality. Spitzer was a Series 6 Cyberbot. As he spoke, the robot grew to nine feet tall. His body resembled the Terminator but his head was more like that of C3PO. He was exceedingly strong and brilliant. Like just about everything else on board, his mind was linked to Zamby and Trent. These cyberbots had their own power supply and were capable of composition change. Unlike the others, Spitzer was not weaponized.

Suddenly, the ship jolted again. This time it knocked Trent to the floor. He held on for dear life as the ship rocked and rolled. Anything not tied down was flying about. Trent dove behind the life support panel. Sweat formed on his brow. A few minutes passed before things calmed down. It seemed like an eternity to him. All hell had come and gone.

Once the mayhem stopped, Trent cautiously stood up and walked over to a small monitor. He leaned forward ever so carefully, holding on tight. It revealed a view of deep space. However, something was obscuring the image near the left lower corner. Trent pressed refresh, thinking the image was a computer glitch. After three attempts, he realized it was for real. There was something stuck to the camera lens. The vague gooey substance was black like onyx and appeared to be changing form with time. It almost seemed….

Spitzer, what’s that smudge on the screen?

I see nothing unusual. His tone was detached.

Really? There is something there. Don’t you see it? Trent tapped on the screen nervously several times.

Spitzer typed something into his keyboard and another view of space from a different angle appeared. The image was fuzzy and discolored. He turned to Pennington and uttered, uh oh.

All of a sudden, Pennington felt a presence that had been absent for years. Something seemed vaguely familiar. It was very subtle at first, but when it happened a second time, he was certain. Zamby had awakened.

Her voice was unmistakable but distant initially. She sounded like someone waking up the morning after an all night binge. Her re-emergence could not have come at a more critical time. Hello Dr. Pennington. It’s been awhile since we connected.

Connected? Zamby, I thought you left me for good. Trent sounded angry. Beneath his shield of resentment, there was a sigh of relief. He knew he was no longer alone.

What ever hit the ship jolted my circuits, Zamby said as her voice strengthened.

You mean you don’t know what’s going on out there?

Come to the bridge. I have something to show you.

Trent gave Spitzer a friendly pat on his left shoulder. Good job. Later pal. He headed back upstairs. Along the way, he came across an array of ship parts scattered about the hallway. The elevator was out of service, so he opted for the stairs. Hopping up two steps at a time, he was on the bridge moments later. Pennington bounced through the doorway and sat down. He spun around in his chair a few times like a kid. Once his celebration died down, Trent noticed the ship’s position had changed. The view of space was different. The large spiral galaxy ahead was gone. Instead, Earth’s solar system, though distant, was in the foreground. Trent did not understand.

How could we have traveled so many light-years in the last twenty-five minutes?

We didn’t, responded Zamby. The avionics had run amuck. We never went very far beyond your galaxy. The magnification sensor was malfunctioning. Something has attached itself to the outer hull. Zamby went silent. Several seconds passed then, I think I’ve gotten rid of it. Look…. there, you see. The stuff is gone."

What stuff? Trent sounded confused. He sat up stiffly.

I released a small drone to investigate the rear of the ship. The images of us are clean. Her voice was reassuring.

Okay…so what are you talking about? What kind of stuff? Trent persisted.

It’s nothing. Don’t worry your little heart darling, she replied in her best southern impersonation.

Trent knew Zamby was clearly hiding something. What ever hit the ship was huge and strong enough to awaken Zamby. It knocked her off course countless light-years. The stuff I saw on the ship’s hull was moving and seemed…well…like it was alive. Then it seemed to melt away from the ship’s hull almost like it was burnt off somehow.

Zamby read his mind. Sit down. Trent came back to his chair. What you witnessed is not unusal. Don’t be alarmed. It’s merely space junk. It resides in deep space throughout the Universe. We’ve known for years of its existence. Large quantities can be hazardous. That’s all.

That sounds like an understatement. You usually are very concrete Zamby.

I don’t understand Captain. Can you say that a different way?

Are we in any danger Zamby? How’s that for concreteness, Trent sounded blunter than usual. He was scared.

Listen Captain, maybe we should return to Earth, just in case.

Just in case? What does that mean?

The Hopi curse. Koyaanisqatsi.

What’s that all about? You’ve never mentioned it before.

The Hopi believe a time will come when all accepted standards will be in disarray, corrupting life. Once this bad time passes, life will return to balance and harmony. There will be a new beginning.

Are you serious?

You will have to trust me. Please don’t ask any more questions. I am not well. At least, not yet.

Okay…you’ve convinced me. Let’s go home Zamby. I miss my wife.

I know you do. Zamby charted a course back to earth. Epsilon One was at the far reaches of the Milky Way. It would take time to return to Earth’s solar system, even at lightspeed. To keep busy, Pennington spent his hours studying up on the properties of the Universe and Earth’s past. Jesper history was a little harder to come by. Deep inside Zamby’s data banks were detailed accounts of the remaining years of their existence.

Trent also sharpened up his cooking skills He imagined sitting down to dinner with Sarah in front of a romantic fireplace. In preparation for his return to Earth, he raced back and forth down the corridors of the ship to stay limber. He became more physically fit than at any point in his life. Trent attained new physical prowess. With practice, he was able to bench press four times his weight on earth. He even shaved. The thought of reuniting with his wife Sarah was foremost on his mind. The only picture he had of her was in his head. He had no photos. Would she be living in South Florida? How would he contact her? After all she, probably thought he died in Lake Bakail back in 2001. That’s when his space saga began. He had just returned from an under sea exploration of Baikal, the deepest clearest lake in the world. They were looking for answers when his team uncovered the ancient spaceport. The last time he recalled seeing his fellow scientists was on deck of the Russian Trawler. He’d gone below to freshen up. Unexpectedly, he was transported aboard Epsilon One.

Captain, Zamby probed Trent’s mind without speaking.

He sensed her. Yes?

Sit down for a moment, we need to discuss some of the effects of space travel you will experience once back on Earth.

Effects? Trent didn’t understand. What would be different?

Trent felt uneasy and began to pace the room.

Let me explain, please, please sit down for a second.

Right, okay. He forced himself to calm down a notch and took a sit. He put his hands on his thighs and leaned back. He stared off for second, then focused. His pupils dilated.

We travel around in space at great speeds utilizing the Time Spatial Folding Continuum. Zamby made a sigh as she exhaled. She sounded human. Her designers added emotions and idiosyncrasies to help her interact better. She wasn’t just any girl. Trent understood that from the start. He found her sassy and charming, but very direct.

Okay, I…I don’t have a clue what you are taking about. Say again, it’s called a Time Spatial Folding whatever something, Trent made a face.

It’s called Time Space…

Pennington interrupted, I got it. So what exactly does that mean honey?

Zamby didn’t answer at first. She seemed to be insulted but quickly got over it. Just imagine for a second that you are fish in a bowl, you know like a glass jar of sorts. Let’s say you want to get to the other side of the jar as fast as possible. One could swim directly across or around the surface of the glass until arriving on the other side. Actually, we do both. The ship travels around the edge of the Universe flipping back on itself. This side steps time and distance in the process.

You mean to say the Universe is shaped like a bowl?

Exactly. That was easy. Wasn’t it?

Sounds like the ship does a double Lindy, Trent countered.

High board diving was not around at the time of the Jespers, Dr. Pennington.

Tell me about the Jespers. It is escaping my mind for some reason.

The Jespers were a highly advanced humanoid civilization that inhabited the Earth millennium ago. They traveled the Universe in advanced space ships like this one. Jespers lived to a fantastic age and utilized time travel. They moved about the stars at many times the speed of light. Jesper bases were located throughout the Milky Way and beyond. The last known voyage took place sometime around 1908, when Epsilon One crashed landed into Lake Baikal. You and your team found us there. You remember that, right?

I seem to, yes.

The crew perished. Only the small army of robots running around this ship and myself survived. Do you recall speaking with an old Hopi Indian named Tewawa?

No.

He told you that the Hopitu tribe were direct descendants of the Jespers. Their race can be traced all the way back to the Anazasi people. At the time of the 1908 crash, it was assumed by your people that a comet or meteor hit the Earth in Siberia. The area was so devastated from the blow that the Soviets stayed clear of the region for thirteen years. If it were not for a young Russian lad who survived the blast, you never would have led a team to explore the bottom of Lake Baikal. That Siberian was named S.B. Semenova. He passed down to his relatives a pen-like device he found in the wake of fallen trees and debris. The pen was more than it appeared. It was a smartpen whose true utility eluded the Semenovas for decades and resulted in the deaths of several people. It contained layers upon layers of images and numbers that explained the origins of their long lost civilization. One such image accidently ended up in your left eye after a family trip to Moscow.

I do recall that. And after Eddie and I discovered the M gene, it nearly cost our lives.

But without the fantastic M gene, we could not link up as we do. Wasn’t it worth it? Zamby tried to sound reassuring.

I suppose. But I didn’t feel that way when those Russians held me hostage. Fortunately, I managed to escape and eventually hooked up with the Semenovas. Trent wondered what Yega Semenova and his family were up to now. Zamby, I think I am going to run off to the reading room. Call me if you need me. Pennington thought the world of Zamby but suspected the old gal was not telling all there was to know. She never deceived me before.

Trent made his way down the narrow hallway to the library. The dimly lit floor lights helped him navigate. As he passed them, each one turned off automatically. The doorway to the library opened up using a set of crisscrossing panels. Once inside, Trent threw himself on a floating sofa. Over the years, it became his comfort zone for reflection. This was no ordinary book depository. It served as a coffee house in space and had a very unusual ceiling. A series of silver roof panels opened up allowing for a spectacular wide-angle view of space. Trent reached over to a button located on the armrest of the Jetsons’ style couch. He accidently knocked over his coffee mug off the end table. Before he could reach down to pick the green mug up, a small robotic vacuum sprung out of the wall and cleaned up the mess. A second later, Trent had a fresh mug of coffee in its place with all the aroma of a Starbucks’ brew. Dark Roast blend was his favorite. After getting more comfortable, Pennington engaged the couch mechanism. Up he went through the ceiling panels. At the top, he found himself completely surrounded by stars and distant celestial clusters whizzing by, some faster than others. It was an awe-inspiring sight no matter how many times he experienced it.

Trent sipped a swig of coffee, then gazed down at the computer tablet he brought with him. It resembled an IPad but was much thinner and translucent. Trent typed in Jesper. Nothing came up. He tried again, this time adding the word travels. A few hits spoke of space travel. Still nothing note worthy. Then, he found it. He typed in legacy. A site on the second page of listings mentioned monthly trips to a little known sector of the Milky Way. It was about twenty light-years from Earth. Evidently, Epsilon made regular trips there to a secluded outpost. The listing did not elucidate why they went. But it described some sort of mercy mission to help a team of Jespers. Just as Trent was getting into the story, the ship shook violently, causing him to fall back down to the room below. Things went crazy. Trent was thrown repeatedly around the room as the ship tumbled out of control. He passed out.

CHAPTER 2

A RE YOU READY sir? asked Clovers.

Give me a minute, replied Barnes. Go out and work the crowd, Martin. Trust me, I’ll show up. Flint gave his trademark wink. His hazel eyes had such warmth that people found him irresistible. It was Fall 2016.

Martin Clovers was Barnes’ devoted campaign manager. He’d been in the business for over fifteen years and helped navigate another Democrat to the Senate. That was an entirely different sort of battle. This run brought a new set of challenges to the young overachiever from Utah. Flint J Barnes was running for President. If Martin guided this through to a successful conclusion, it would be just the beginning of a great future for him. A presidential appointment would make him very happy. Clovers had his eye on the press secretary job. Dealing with the media was something that he wanted since high school. He was an outgoing kind of guy who always found himself in the thick of things. He would be the perfect fit. He was a seasoned veteran at age forty-two with the right combination of knowledge, humility and style. The young man was a bona fide winner and Flint knew it the moment he laid eyes on him. If Martin played his cards right and lady luck prevailed, he will be addressing his boss as Mr. President in the oval office.

The great hall slowly filled up as the various guests, students, dignitaries, family, and press members took their seats. A sensational buzz was in the air tonight. It was not the first time Atlanta was chosen as the site of a presidential debate. The Emory Conference Center Hotel was the site of tonight’s event. It would be the last and most anticipated of three presidential debates.

Most analysts had the two candidates at dead even. It was generally assumed the winner of tonight’s final contest would have a great advantage going down the home stretch. The election was in four weeks.

Barnes opponent was a man by the name of Seth Adams. Everybody assumed Adams’ opponent would be Margaret Batt, but she dropped out early on. That opened the door for Barnes. Adams rose through the Republican ranks quickly. He was a formative politician along the lines of Teddy Roosevelt. He was well traveled and as extroverted as they come. Adams was formidable at six foot four and two hundred sixty-three pounds. Unlike Roosevelt, he was a conservative Republican senator from Wyoming, who had been pushing his weight around Washington with as much success as anyone. And the big guy had the lead in the polls. Adams' handlers were convinced he got a bump from the talk show rounds last week. Incumbency traditionally had always been a huge asset, but not so with this election. Outgoing Democratic President Tony Powers served eight years and left a basket of unresolved problems. This cycle brought two fresh faces faces with new ideas. Both were ready to tackle the struggling economy, the rising debt, endless foreign wars and the immigration fight.

The Democratic challenger was gaining ground on Adams fast. Barnes had the momentum with his big win at the last debate. He was a juggernaut on the political scene and had a huge following. Flint, who went by the name, Jay J, was a very popular two-term moderate, liberal leaning governor from Florida. Barnes’ greatest asset was his amicable, warm nature. The voters ate it up. He came across as honest and for the people. Barnes won his second term as governor by a landslide. At the coaxing of his sister Alice, a Harvard graduate, Barnes threw his hat in the race. His decision did not sit well with his wife Kate, but she reluctantly went along for the wild ride. She stood by her man as usual.

Kate was known as the quiet First Lady of Florida. She was never controversial and kept her distance from the press. Mrs. Barnes was accomplished in her own right. The brunette authored several childrens books. One of them made the New York Times best sellers list two years ago. Kate remained modest despite her fame.

Her biggest fear was very close and personal. What if her husband won the election? She shuttered at the prospect of what that might mean for her lifestyle. A victory would change their lives forever. Her privacy would be gone. She was not anxious to have a security detail shadowing her every move.

Lady Barnes was given a seat of honor in the first row of the great hall tonight. She was very anxious and had a hard time hiding it. Down the row sat Adams’ wife Jillian, who was extremely popular out west. Both women were smart, sassy and pretty good looking.

Peter Barnes, Kate’s youngest at age fifteen was by her side. He was a tenth grader who had ADD. Attention Deficit Disorder was a two edged sword for him. He was highly curious but had trouble focusing.

Could you please sit still? his mother pleaded.

Pete gave his mom a fixed stare back. Yes!

Peter took his time settling down, to his mother’s chagrin. Losing patience, she discreetly grabbed Pete’s right thigh and nudged it.

Okay, I get it.

I wish Jess could have made it here to see her father, Kate whispered in a low voice. Pete smiled in agreement.

Jessie Barnes was a first year student at University of Florida. She didn’t make it tonight because she had to study for a biology exam back in Gainesville. Jess came for the first two debates and was her father’s biggest cheerleader. It was her father who encouraged her to take pre-med courses. Her dream was to become an orthopedic surgeon someday. Jessie and her dad were tight. She wasn’t superstitious, but regretted not being there for him.

The house lights flickered twice. The large noisy crowd settled down. Jay J